French Doors

I just finished reading David Sedaris’ new book Happy-Go-Lucky. It’s a good quick read, with Sedaris’ customary brand of humor. Not his best work, but when you’re writing about COVID, elderly parents dying in rest homes, child molestation, underage sex, and difficult life partners, even Sedaris’ humor can get, let’s say, a tad dark.

But only Sedaris could have handled these subjects with the aplomb, tact and honesty that he is known for. I have read every published word he has ever written, and I will continue to do so. I vow to you, right now, that one day I will meet three people:

David Sedaris

Mike Rowe

Joe Rogan

You heard it here first. I want to be on Joe Rogan’s podcast. Unfortunately for me, he doesn’t know this yet, which makes it tough to get booked.

Anyway, there is a chapter in Happy-Go-Lucky that takes place in France, where he and his partner Hugh have a small home. He discusses a boy named Olivier who develops a crush on Sedaris, and crawls through Sedaris’s window or walks in the house when he knows Sedaris is alone, trying to initiate sexual contact. Sedaris, of course, rebuffs the young boy, by yelling the oddest thing:

“Grandmother!”

After yelling “Grandmother!” Sedaris would run across the small road to Olivier’s grandmother’s house. The implication was obvious: “This is inappropriate, your grandmother is watching!” It is both a sad and hysterical perspective of young love and raging hormones.

But the part that struck me is when Sedaris mentioned that in France, everyone leaves their door open all the time, no matter what gets in. The doors stay open, period. And I wondered if that’s where we get French doors- you know, opening French doors to let the light and space in.

And I wonder if also, perhaps, my French heritage is to blame for the fact that I leave my front door open, all-year round, all-day long, weather permitting. I hate shutting my front door, and I have never known why.

When I purchased my front door during home renovations, I asked my contractor to put in a screen door, but he said it wouldn’t work, not with the door I wanted. So fine. I just started leaving the front door open all the time.

Yes, we get flies. Yes, Mr. Squirrel comes in at all times of the day. Two nights ago my son was making himself a salad, looked up, looked at me and said, deadpan:

“There’s a squirrel in the house.”

Mr. Squirrel is very bold and very greedy, and comes right up to the pantry door to wait for his peanuts. I drop a peanut right by my feet, and he has no fear. That way I get to hear his little feet making the little tap-tap-taps over my wooden floor as he goes back outside with his prize. Cutest thing. Even my son thought the sound was cute.

But encouraging him to come in is dumb. I know. He’s a rodent. He wouldn’t think twice about ransacking my house if I wasn’t home. He’s not a pet. I just can’t help it. For the first time in over ten years, I even got Mr. and Mrs. Duck to come in. They came right over the threshold to get their critter food of corn and sunflower seeds. My son witnessed it.

I shouldn’t encourage wild animals to come in my house. But what can I tell you? I’m French.