« February 2006 | Main | May 2006 »

April 29, 2006

It's Jazzfest...

Just got back from my first day of Jazzfest 2006. I have a lot to write, but I have to pick up Manolo at the airport so I'll have to get to it later.

April 19, 2006

First Taste Of Hurt

With Jazzfest just a week away, I've been listening to the New Orleans Social Club album. I've been haunted by the closing refrain from one of the songs -- "First Taste Of Hurt" by Willie Tee of the original Wild Magnolias.

The original 1970 recording of this track is more of a musical bitchslap to a soon-to-be-dumped girlfriend. But for this release, the lyrics have been beautifully reworked as an anthem for the rebirth of New Orleans. The new version closes:

I think we're ready,
I know we're ready,
I think we're ready to go back home.

Since I picked up this record a few weeks ago, those words have been hanging in the air all around me. They brought me back to the time just after Katrina when all I could think about was what kind of city there might be left to go home to. Whether my personal refuge these last 15 years would still be what I remember. And whether or not I was ready to face it.

For me, and it seems for almost everybody I've spoken to in New Orleans, the post-hurricane shell shock has passed and given way to a sort of disaffected, resigned conversation about mayoral races and rebuilt levees. I guess looking at the technical and political issues and trying to work through them is one way of dealing with the devastation -- both physical and emotional -- that Katrina wrought. Put your head down and try to solve the problem you've got, as it were, rather than lamenting what you've lost and hope you might get back, but may never get back again.

From a distance (and it seems I'm always operating at a distance, but that's for another time), I have the luxury of diving in to the situation when it's convenient for me. Every year, after Jazzfest, I put a box of my gear in an attic somewhere in the city to be picked up when I come back. This year, there's a metaphorical box full of emotion right next to the physical one, full of walkie-talkies, old Brass Passes, and air mattresses.

And now, so, here we are, eight months down the line, and my appointment with destiny is less than a week away. Wheeler fetched my physical box from the attic last week, ready for me to pick it up when I arrive. And the emotional box, well, it crashed out of the attic on to my head right about the time I heard Willie Tee singing those lines. "It's time to stop your grieving, time to start believing."

Am I ready for my first taste of hurt?

I think I'm ready. I know I'm ready.

I think I'm ready.

I'm coming home.

April 11, 2006

The French CPE Crisis… A Postmortem

By now, you will hopefully all have heard about the recent crisis in France regarding youth employment. I've certainly read a ton of commentary on it, most of it written by the uninformed and uninvolved, and I thought it might be valuable to offer a perspective from somebody who lives in France. So here we go…

For those of you who haven't been following along, here's a brief primer:

  • Youth unemployment in France is in the vicinity of 25%
  • The riots in France of last Autumn are largely considered to have been rooted in the discontent of unemployed (predominantly immigrant) youth
  • Under the traditional French employment contract, it is extremely hard to dismiss employees for any reason, which is generally considered to significantly chill hiring
  • The government introduced fast-track legislation to combat the unemployment situation by creating a new "Contrat de Premiere Embauche" (CPE), which allowed companies to hire people under the age of 26 on the basis that they could be fired, without cause, within two years
  • French students subsequently shut down universities in protest, and joined with France's powerful trade unions to stage general strikes
  • President Chirac announced that he would withdraw the CPE.

    For many people who aren't familiar with France and the politics of French social welfare, this entire scene sounds highly implausible, and it offers yet another opportunity to pile on and point out how ridiculous the French are. And this situation is surely ridiculous, but not for the reasons that many might speculate.

    The French social model is different from the present Anglo-American model in that the state generally takes the responsibility for guaranteeing the welfare of its citizens, often at the expense of corporations.

    This is a gross oversimplification, but as it relates to employment, companies generally can offer a 3-6 month probationary period when hiring, after which period it becomes extremely difficult to dismiss employees for any reason; you need to be able to clearly demonstrate cause to dismiss that borders on the criminal. Any other reason, including layoffs or mild incompetence, and it's going to be hard to fire your employee.

    Beyond this, the cost of an employee to his/her employer generally amounts to double the salary, because the company is required to pay old-age, medical, and unemployment benefits that would be considered ridiculously high to most. But this money, paid by the companies, is what forms the basis of the French social safety net.

    So, if you're a company, you're basically going to have to think twice, and then think again, before you (a) create a new job, and (b) hire somebody for it. Creating the job is a massive expense, and if you hire somebody for it they're going to cost you money whether or not they're earning their pay.

    Crazy? It would certainly seem so to anybody who's familiar with the at-will hiring policies of most American companies.

    But this system, while ripe for abuse by lazy or incompetent employees, is merely the inverse of a system that's ripe for abuse by ruthless corporations. The potential for abuse is there in either case, but the French have decided over the years they'd rather make sure the people are covered and the corporations absorb the risk, and that they're willing to pay higher taxes to preserve the safety net.

    Perhaps it's not the decision you'd have made, but whether or not you agree with it, there is a logic to the system. The French buy into the system almost universally, and are very proud and protective of it.

    Now, for the current crisis and why I think it's patently absurd.

    The government's introduction of the CPE was largely considered to be a response to the rioting that took place last Autumn, during which a predominantly North-African immigrant underclass took to the streets, burning cars, in protest of police abuse. The undercurrent to those riots, however, was the extremely high (I don't have an exact number, but much higher than 25%) unemployment among these North-African immigrant communities. This disproportionate unemployment among immigrants inflates the national average, so while again I don't have exact numbers, unemployment among the non-immigrant youth community is significantly lower than 25%.

    This situation needs addressing, and I'm pretty sure the CPE was not the way to address it, but the government saw an opportunity to create jobs at the low end of the pay scale that they figured had a good chance of going to the disaffected, unemployed immigrant youth. Another approach might have been to try and combat the systemic racism that openly prevents many immigrants from getting hired to jobs they're qualified for, but such an approach did not come to pass. Make no mistake: the CPE was designed for the immigrant community.

    Fast-forward to this January, and all of a sudden university students -- who are disproportionately non-immigrant and generally under 26 -- realise that the CPE might affect them as well, because the new contract is available to all employers. Trade unions -- representing employees who are disproportionally non-immigrant, and whose long-term future rests on the shoulders of those who are under 26 -- find common cause with the university students. Students take to the streets, protesting to maintain the status quo. The trade unions, sensing the government's vulnerability in next year's elections, and finding at long last an issue the political left can rally around, joins them.

    So what you have is a relatively privileged youth class joining up with a relatively privileged worker class shutting down the country to stop a piece of government legislation that probably would not have helped the immigrants it was purportedly designed to help. Then, predictably, the government pulls the legislation -- because the ruling party's political base looks a lot more like university students and trade union members than it does like immigrants.

    In the end, nobody really won. And in the process of nobody winning, everybody -- left, right, students, government, unions -- sold out the immigrants. So in a controversy that started as an attempt to (at best) help or (at worst) placate the disaffected, unemployed immigrants, you'll find they are the group that has the most reason to be angry at the debacle.

    So how long, do you think, before the next round of riots breaks out?

  • April 5, 2006

    I'm Still Alive

    Haven't written in a while, and just wanted to let everybody know I'm still alive. I'm slowly (read: at a snail like pace) moving forward on my menu-translation business, which I hope to really kick into gear when I get back from New Orleans in mid-May.

    Speaking of which, Jazzfest is looming pretty large, just three short weeks away. As usual, during the weeks leading up to fest, I'm having trouble concentrating on anything else. Today, I picked up the new album from the New Orleans Social Club (iTunes Music Store link), another excellent release from displaced New Orleans musicians to help, well, displaced New Orleans musicians. So nice to hear the licks from Leo Nocentelli's guitar open up the first track (he'd also like you to know that he wrote all the songs).

    There isn't too much else to report. The first cherry blossoms are out in Paris, and we've had some sunshine to help lift the funk from what was a long, dark, gray winter. I know Paris is the city of romance and light, and I'm not by any means complaining because this town is great to live in. But spend a couple of winters here in the city, and you'll know what I mean about the gray funk. It's rare to see the sun in winter, and when you mix that in with all of the gray/beige buildings and the fact that the only parks in Paris are outside Paris, it can get you down.

    Now the days are getting longer and the mercury's edging higher. I've got some ass shakin' to look forward to. As the winter funk bled me, thus will the New Orleans funk fill me up. In 23 days.