Story

My first memories of Paris are entwined with the Arc de Triomphe, a landmark that told me I was close to my family's hotel off Avenue Wagram, one of the spokes that emanates from the hub. At the time, it was the largest edifice I had ever seen that wasn't built for human habitation, and to this day, I try to avoid any mention of its meaning or place in French history so that its strangeness is not diminished. What in the world, a 14-year-old Sluggh wondered, are all these warriors and politicians doing on its panels, and why are so many of them not wearing clothes? It was an indelible lesson in something ― non-utilitarian creativity, maybe, or art's ability to inspire awe ― that I needed to travel to Europe in order to learn. It's still pretty great. And no, I don't want to know about the Battle of Austerlitz or whatever it's supposed to commemorate. On this day, security in this area was as thick as I've seen in Paris. Not sure if this is typical or not; I usually don't hang out on this side of town. But I am for the next two weeks!