Memories & Memoirs:
Monique drove a Citroën SM (San Francisco)
The Starck Club (Dallas, Texas)
Angelique via Utrecht (The Netherlands)
Poet, Poetry & Poems:
Professor Pim and the Evil Queen of the Neverlands
The Crane Birds of Monaco
Motto & Quote: To ask nothing. To expect nothing. To depend on nothing -- Ayn Rand, The Fountainhead
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IN THE VILLAGE of MONACO
Near the Metropole Shopping Center in Monte Carlo
After arriving underground by train, I walked up the stairs and stepped into Monaco and immediately noticed how clean the streets were. I looked up at the buildings and noticed how perfectly maintained they were also. Everything around me seemed new and fresh.
I kept walking as a Bentley passed me by, then a Ferrari, and many buzzing scooters. Amazing. I was in a whole different world. Most people were well dressed. I felt safe everywhere. And the more I walked, the more glamorous the architecture became as I was nearing the casino area of town, with all the French designer shops from Versace to Louis Vuitton stores in a row on the ground floor of modern luxurious apartment buildings near the casino square in Monte Carlo. Was I dreaming?
Things in Monaco seemed too good to be true. Was it true? Is Monaco a real place? Or had I arrived in a fake world? A type of Disney World for stylish adults? Because at times I felt this couldn’t possibly be real. I felt as if I was in "the Village" from the British television series "The Prisoner" starring Patrick McGoohan, but the Village turned-out to be a prison he was unable to escape from.
Patrick McGoohan in the Village from the TV series "The Prisoner"
But one thing different from the Village was that there were many cranes in the sky of Monaco, construction seemed a constant. And all the cranes were labeled with the same sign: "J.B. Pastor & Fils." And all the luxurious high rise apartment buildings bore a golden plaque near the entrance: "Groupe Pastor."
I then remember reading that the Pastor family owned a great deal of the real estate and were also the main construction company in Monaco. My first instinct was to ask why they held such a monopoly. But then the more buildings I saw that were erected by the Pastor company the more I could understand why they were so successful. Their buildings were of high quality and absolutely great architecture. Their buildings were residential sculptures rising into the sky. There seemed to be great architectural freedom in Monaco.
Le Simona Tower -- Groupe Pastor
After walking around for an hour, I went into the shopping center near the casino, the Metropole. Inside there was an elegant cafe where they served lunch. I sat down and ordered a large beer on tap that cost me 20 euros and it came with potato chips, the perfect combination. And the cold beer was bubbling my brain with random thoughts.
I remember reading that Patrice Pastor bought a 100 million dollars worth of real estate in Carmel, which included a house designed by Frank Lloyd Wright, which made me think of the book "The Fountainhead" by Ayn Rand whose hero is an architect named Howard Roark who was based on Frank Lloyd Wright. Ayn Rand was a big fan of skyscrapers and modern architecture. For her the New York City skyline represented freedom.
And this made me wonder if these modern types of buildings in Monaco could ever be erected in New York City. Because it seemed that all the great architecture today was taking place outside the US. How ironic, I thought. Ayn Rand immigrated to America in 1926 seeking freedom, but maybe if she had arrived a century later she would have immigrated to another country. Or maybe she would have stayed in Russia. Or maybe she would have immigrated to Monaco and Howard Roark would have been an architect working in Monte Carlo. The beer was good.
But then again, I thought, Monaco was a Kingdom. Ayn Rand could have never been living in a country that was ruled by a monarch. Like Aristotle and John Locke, her epistemology holds that man is born tabula rasa and that he is responsible for who he becomes, and he should be judged on his accomplishments and character, not on his bloodline or family pedigree. The whole monarchy ideology and caste system was abhorrent to her. Ayn Rand was an individualist, she had no respect for royalty, tradition, status quo and prestige.
But then again, I thought, as a radical for laissez-faire capitalism, Ayn Rand would like Monaco because it is a capitalist country. And that is the irony also, it being a capitalist country ruled by a Kindom in the middle of an Orwellian socialist superstate: the European Union.
Fortunately, Monaco itself is not a member of the European Union, which means they still have sovereignty and freedom, at least to a certain degree . . . but for how much longer?
In the Village -- "The Prisoner" 1967
Another thing I was thinking about is a story I had read: that someone had hacked into the emails of the "King's men" in Monaco and had posted it on an anonymous website for the whole country to see. This was a tremendous embarrassment for Prince Albert because it exposed how much corruption there was under his crown. This scandal is known as the "Dossiers du Rocher."
Many people in the media claimed that Patrice Pastor was the man behind the hacks because the Palace kept denying him real estate contracts and instead would give it to his competitors. The hacked emails showed financial links between the "Kings men" and the property developers who were rewarded these contracts -- "follow the money." Prince Albert claimed he knew nothing about the kickbacks, and Patrice Pastor claimed he knew nothing about the e-hacks.
And that had me thinking: Denying it to the media is one thing, but denying it under oath in the court of law under penalty of perjury is another.
I am of the opinion that whoever exposed the corruption at the Palace is a larger-than-life character, and a man with a very strong sense of justice. Not all heroes wear capes, and not all heroes are nice guys.
Meeting Angelique at the train station in Bunnik 30 years later It was a typical Dutch gray day. No rain, no sun. The train had just left the Utrecht station on its way to Bunnik. I was now only minutes away from seeing Angelique. The last time I had seen her was 25 years ago when she had visited me in San Francisco. The last time I was in the Netherlands, there still was the Dutch guilder and Dutch freedom. Now returning so many years later, the monetary currency was in euros and the cultural currency was in lockdowns, face masks and QR codes. Dutch sovereignty and freedom had taken a beating, but this time from within. When the train stopped in Bunnik, my compartment was the farthest from the platform. When I stepped out, I saw a silhouette in the distance waving at me. It was Angelique. She was dressed all in black, with a long raincoat that looked like a cape and with a wide brimmed black hat. For a moment I felt I was in one of those Zorroesque Sandeman commercials I grew up ...
King Willem-Alexander and his mother Princess Beatrix smiling at the people who pay for their palaces According to Article 1 of the Dutch Constitution, every individual in the Netherlands should be treated equally under the law. However, there is one family who is above the law: the superior royal Dutch family. This is a huge contradiction in Dutch society and culture. The Dutch legislature should either abolish Article 1 or the monarchy and revert back to a republic, which the Netherlands originally was. Not only are the Dutch royals above the law, they run over the rights of the Dutch people by taking their money. And then the King lectures the Dutch people about "equality" and "diversity" as the Dutch politicians, elected by the Dutch people, sit there silently while he does. In the Netherlands they call that "democracy." Somewhere along the line the Dutch went from total football to total monarchy. King Willem-Alexander is one of the richest ...
In the previous century, after the Second World War, many Europeans sought to immigrate to the United States. It was the promised land, a beautiful and safe country. These immigrants had to work to survive, back then there were no financial support programs for immigrants. My father was one such immigrant after leaving Holland after the Second World War. He worked many odd jobs until he became his own salesperson, first selling Dutch chocolate from his VW van to supermarkets, and thereafter he became a successful fine arts dealer, importing Dutch paintings to California art galleries. One of my first jobs after arriving in America in 1983 was that of a busboy at the Bankers Club. Nowadays they call that job an "assistant waiter" but back then that job was called busboy and "Human Resources" was called the "Personnel Office." The restaurant was on top of the 52nd floor of the Bank of America building. At the time, this was the highest floor in San Fran...
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