There are two types of billionaires --- Florence (5)

Michael is working on a new soap consisting of a series of flash stories featuring Jamie and Dex, the heroes of his flash Jamie 1.0. The whole thing is set in Florence, Italy, which we visited recently. Here's a brief fragment of the second part...hold on, let's start with an illustration again:

There are two types of billionaires

And now the fragment:

There are two types of billionaires: (1) unhappy billionaires, who are each unhappy in their own way, and (2) happy billionaires, who answer “whatever” when their valet inquires as to today’s attire and are then served with a bespoke Bond Street summer costume in understated grey. Our man belongs to the second category. What’s special about him: he’s faceless. You couldn’t even say he looks like a choir boy (hedge funds), or Osama bin Laden (family money), or Donald Trump (family money). He looks like somebody who refuses to look like anything.

“Huh?” I said.

“They’ll look anonymous. Totally. They could be caught on CCTV robbing a bank and broadcasted on cable networks and nobody would recognize their face on the bus or on the buffet of the Mar al Lago. They’ve had a face job. An expensive face job.”)

We don’t always get it right, but this time we do. Mr. Bond Street finishes his phone conversation, makes a beeline for yours truly, and introduces himself as “John.” He asks whether I like art. “Real art. Botticelli. Da Vinci. Warhol.” He chuckles. Of course we like art...

You find more of this on the pages of LustSpiel, here.

Today...

...the view from the Pic de l'Ours across the bay of Cannes, with the city of Cannes on the shoreline and the city of Nice (next bay, in the background) on the shoreline of La Baie des Anges. The back-background is provided by the Alps. From here (500 m elevation), you get a view of the entire Cote d'Azur.

He's clad in widely-cut pants --- Florence (4)

Michael is working on a new soap consisting of a series of flash stories featuring Jamie and Dex, the heroes of his flash Jamie 1.0. The whole thing is set in Florence, Italy, which we visited recently. Here's a brief fragment...hold on, let's start with an illustration:

"He's clad in widely-cut pants."

That's actually Savonarola being burnt on the stake there, in the background, but never mind. And now the fragment:

A black guy has materialised next to the fountain and is taking pictures of the Loggia, meaning he’s taking pictures of me taking pictures of him taking pictures of me and so on. It would be a new come-on for me, and the fun part is in the wuzzy reciprocity—who is to say who is coming on to whom? Whether the guy is actually aware of my presence remains to be seen (the Loggia holds a dozen statues and six dozen sightseers as we speak), but I am becoming increasingly aware of him, unmistakably. I’m a natural.

He’s the Kenyan type, long and stalky, ebony-black, clad in a half-open Hawaii shirt that leaves nothing to the imagination, wide strong shoulders, shiny tapered pecs, the torso funneling down to the small of his back along effortless abs. Obama has a beautiful, round crane, infinite lips, infinite teeth, and wears stylish grey flannel pants, widely cut, much wider than the fashion on the Via Tornabuoni. I know about these pants: guys wear them to hide their third leg. He’s also wearing elaborate sandals about which more later...

Back in Bürchen for a week

This evening...

...at the nearby restaurant Le Mizuna in Mandelieu.

This afternoon in the Esterel

On Sunday in St. Raphael

Too late