Ah, the only photo from my honeymoon back in '34. I was a captain back then, piloting a cargo barge on the muddy waters of the Seine. Dita Yvette (or was it Yvette Dita?) and I eloped one dizzy summer night when I was in port delivering mason jars for the Iva Firefly Festival. She never learned to speak English, and I never learned any French. Communication was therefore quite difficult, and by the end of the week we lost touch and went our separate ways.
Au revoir, rêves doux de luciole. Mai toutes vos fioles brillent brillamment. (N'est-il pas étonnant comment le Français fait à non-sens romatic sain?)
-L' Atalante (1934) directed by Jean Vigo
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