Tuesday, June 02, 2015


Schoffman with Dahlia Danton, Geneva
DuMartin famously wrote that "if you can't fall in love in Paris then you might as well bicker in Geneva." ("si vous ne pouvez pas tomber en amour à Paris, alors vous pourriez aussi bien se quereller à Genève." from Point de repère 1942).

There was a time when my good friend David Schoffman and I shared everything. We shared a studio, a broken down Schwin 3-speed vélo, a winter coat, an umbrella, a transistor radio and a girl friend.

Or two.

Or three.

The problem with sharing women was that it required more finesse than generosity and as such, was rarely worth the effort.

Despite what they say about us Europeans, we are just as inept in matters of love as the Americans. We are neither more amorous nor less monogamous than our cousins across the Atlantic. 

We just have better literature. 

When Schoffman recently met up in Switzerland with my former fiancé Dahlia Danton I admit I was more than a little bit peeved. The one souvenir that I so jealously protected and here was Schoffman fouling further a memory that I had carefully fouled myself all those years ago. 

What happens in the Alps should rightfully stay there but here was David acting the lapdog, continuing his humiliating folly back in L.A.

Danton is a vixen, a tormentress and a third-rate painter who has no business lifting a brush. In a way the two of them deserve each other.

All the same, the whole bloody thing just sticks in my craw.

I knew I never should have lent him my bike!

No comments: