Nothing Like Perspective

LIZ SAYS: Okay this is what I am doing. Brightening up the trim on the atelier, when after about a half hour I can ignore the cops sirens, whistles and chants no longer.
I look out on the balcony and there is a huge anti-Israeli protest going up the rue Marcel, which is at one corner of our block. The Turkish flags and Palestinian flags are swirling and the march is massive.
Dick had gone out for some dinner items and saw a guy yell something at the protesters and get beaten through one of the local brasseries.
Of course, countering a mob is not the smartest of moves, but I guess passion rules. Anyway, Dick escaped and returned home. We are all of a half block from the heat, but there is no sign of the passion, except the bull-horned chants.
Its very obvious now why Euro's have the metal shutters. Not a bad idea, if things get out of hand. But, the French believe in police. They let nothing pass. They are ready and willing to kick ass. Which is, I guess, why the march stays within its rue (street) and no further. The funny thing is you could be a block away and never know what was happening.
Okay, so my problems are petty again and the world keeps turning 'round and 'round.