Memories from childhood: the blue-and-red-hatted, gibberish-speaking boy and girl
Chapi Chapo are cheeky little children living in a magical world of colourful shapes, getting up to various cute-as-pie giggly adventures.
They always feel like busting a move at the end of each episode, a mixture of leg-shaking ballet and tap (did I say cute-as-pie?).
I personally hold Chapi responsible for making me want long flowey blond hair as a child – and for my appreciation of large brimmed hats.
More Chapi Chapo adventures here.
Non monsieur!
If I got a dollar every time someone asked me to say ‘Non monsieur, I deed not no zat Petit Miam ‘as a lot more calceeum zan meelk’, well, I would be rich.
La plume
As much as I love Louise Attaque’s first self-titled album, I think my favourite is their second. And as impossible as it is to pick a favourite from all the songs in ‘Comme on a dit’, if pressed I will say ‘La plume’.
Which features a little cork with eyes, arms and legs up to slightly confusing adventures which involve swimming around like a medusa and pushing a fellow cork on a swing. Let me know if you figure it out.
Their official site is here – and if you visit you will learn with dismay they are on hiatus again. Bum.
Memories from childhood: shaking that coconut
Having grown up in different countries, Christian and I sometimes have no common childhood references (boo sad!). For example: Sesame Street means nothing to me*. It was on telly in France for a couple of years (translated to ’1, rue Sésame’) but no more by the time I was born. So when Christian says ‘I want-a to suck-a your blood!’ when he sees someone wearing a polo shirt with their collar up, I giggle (because I’m highly excitable and he uses a funny voice) but I also go ‘Whaaa?’.
And he is not familiar with the French institution that is ‘Cocoshaker’. Cocoshaker was on channel 2 at 8:30, and was part of my bedtime ritual when I was about 3 or 4. It is basically a tropical version of ‘spy vs. spy’: two creatures (a blue one and a pink one) vie for supremacy, which is achieved by climbing a palm tree and sitting atop holding position for as long as possible. The one still on the ground does everything in its power to unsit the one in the tree. And they don’t speak in intelligible words, but in a high pitched jibberish that makes me laugh so hard I’m in danger of snorting (if that sounds funny, you have seen nothing until you have heard my sister do an impression of it).
So while I try to show youtube videos of Cocoshaker to Christian, I am brushing up on my Sesame Street characters. And let me say, it is very surreal to have your husband explain to you who’s who in the cast of a colourful puppet show…
*But we had Fraggle Rock and the Muppets! Go figure…
Martha
Cliché ahead: I love Édith Piaf (but I hated the movie – a story for another time). For me her music speaks about life in a way that is unmatched: sometimes miserable/sweet/uplifting, a mixture of uncontrived emotions that go right through me and make me want to twirl.
I heard one of her songs on the radio two days ago by an English-speaking artist (her French was damn good with just the most lovely tinges of an accent): after some digging, I’m fairly positive I had my first run in with Martha Wainwright and her rendition of ‘Le Brun et le Blond’.
I am now obsessed and have ‘Sans fusils, Ni Souliers, À Paris‘ squarely in my sights. I couldn’t find the song I heard on youtube, so instead I will leave you with another beautiful classic she performed in London just last week. I dare you not to twirl.
My little cuties
As much as I am irritated by people using French words for effect (read here about my full indignation), I am so endeared when anyone speaks French with me (whatever their knowledge of it). I was all excited when I found these two covers of a cheesy but catchy song I remember from my childhood. Midnight Juggernauts and Vampire Weekend, you little cuties you.
Paris bus ride
Paris en soldes from Jacques Perconte on Vimeo. Amazing video of a Paris bus ride.
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