Déja-vu.

July 3, Medford.
France won against Brasil in the quarter-finals of the World Cup yesterday. Can't quite believe it but here it is, eight years afterwards, and they did it again. I couldn't see the match for I had to take advantage of Fridman watching Dylan (and football) to go work in the office (still no internet in the trailer, now a running joke.) I wish I could have.
Fridman watched it at the cookhouse tent, the Russians were there, with Bérengere, bien sur, and Vasily, Gustavo, some of the other Mexicans, Rafa the cook (because he had drawn France in the raffle,) tio Tito.
I heard a roar from across the parking lot in the office trailer, we had won.
My Mom called (like all week ends) and said the match was beautiful, and that the Champs-Elysées was filling with crowds celebrating, Black Blanc Beur, 1998 World Cup win déja-vu. I can see it.