Sarko made me late this morning

Actually, a cop by métro Champs-Elysées Clemenceau did. I bike there to get to my lab, which I had to do this morning. I biked by the Elysée (the presidential palace) as usual, but today at 11 was going to be the handover ceremony from Chirac to Sarkozy. Lots of cops around, but they let me bike right past the gates, which were hung with French flags.

When I went to park my bike, I made the mistake of asking a cop if it was all right to park my bike there, because it looked like the métro was closed off. The métro wasn't closed off, but of course he said I couldn't park there, all the bikes would be taken away. But when I got there I saw there were bikes there. So I tried parking there and pretended I thought he was talking about another place, but he came running up to me and assured me that I needed to move. He couldn't even tell me where to move. I knew this was because really, no bikes would be taken away. I KNEW that when I came back in the afternoon, those other bikes would still be there. This being France. And I was right. But I still had to park somewhere else.

I just watched the coverage of the handover and related events on Bouge la France on TV. Mercifully, there was no commentary, just the footage. Sarkozy came up to the palace, shook hands with Chirac for the camera, and they went inside. When they came out, they shook hands again and chatted a bit, with Sarko rather free and easy with his gestures, touching Chirac on the arm several times, itself a show of power. (Ooh, now the talking heads are doing commentary, showing that clip again, saying that Sarkozy was "très friendly," I kid you not!) Then Chirac got into the car at the end of the red carpet and was driven away. Sarko stood and watched, then went inside to give a speech for the beautiful people inside.

Later there was this weird moment outside where he stood alone looking at the military band played the Marsaillaise. I bet he practices that slightly sad, knowing smile in the mirror. Heck, I bet he doesn't need to practice it anymore.

Then, he was driven up the Champs-Élysées towards the Arc de Triomphe, in a convertible, standing up and waving. No Popemobile; if someone had wanted to take a potshot at him then, they certainly could have. There were barriers on either side of the road, and I'm sure there was security (represented proudly by my friend the cop at the métro), but still. Anyway, just from the TV, the crowds seemed light to me. And at any rate, there had been no one lining up at 8:30 this morning, that I could see.

Next on monsieur le président's agenda was a ceremony in the Bois de Boulogne for fallen French soldiers. A young girl read a letter from Guy Môquet to his family. Guy Môquet is now just the métro station to most Parisiens, but he was the first person, and a teenager at that, to fall in the Paris résistance to the German occupation. Sarkozy wiped away tears -- yes, really -- and later described himself as having been "bouleversé" ('bowled over') by the letter.

Ooh, now they're showing a clip of him passing his wife, or rather, the woman who passes for his wife... they've had some differences, to put it mildly. He touched her face as if to wipe away tears, or perhaps stray eyeshadow, but she gave a frozen smile and looked away. Must suck to have your I-can't-believe-it's-not-a-relationship be pundit fodder, all because your erstwhile estranged husband is becoming the president of France.

Tonight the riot police are driving up and down and around the Place de la Bastille. Nothing happened all week, and I don't know if anything is going to happen tonight, but there are a lot more police around now, so it looks like they expect something.