Paris, France - February 9, 2008 (7:49pm)   ♫ Je me mourrais d’ennui dans la discothèque. À me faire du cinéma où le fils du Tchèque m’emmenait au galop des 220 chevaux d’une super Bugatti un soir à Miami quand un homme entra beau comme un hidalgo et me dit je suis Georges le fils de Valentino. Georges, je tangue comme un bateau ivre. Georges, les vagues du tango m’enivrent. Georges, je suis si faible entre tes bras. Georges, je suis une femme n’en profites-pas. Et j’allais m’endormir dans la discothèque. Des rêves d’Argentine bousculaient ma tête. J’y voyais un macho la rose entre les dents et j’allais m’en aller loin du bruit et des gens quand un homme entra comme tombé du ciel et me dit je suis Georges, le fils de Carlos Gardel. Georges, je tangue comme un bateau ivre. Georges, les vagues du tango m’enivrent. Georges, je suis si faible entre tes bras. Georges, je suis une femme n’en profites-pas. Georges, je tangue comme un bateau ivre. Oh, Georges, les vagues du tango m’enivrent. Oui, Georges, je suis si faible entre tes bras. Oh, Georges, je suis une femme n’en profites-pas. Oh, Georges ! ♫ In 1978, Sylvie Vartan, who happens to be my favorite singer, sang a song called Georges. In France, they spell my first name with the letter “s” at the end (as if there was more than one of me!) however the “s” is silent. When I hear this song, I wonder if she’s actually singing about me. In this song, she sings in French: “George drives a 220 horsepower super Bugatti one evening in Miami”. Although I have lived in Miami for some 30 years, I don’t remember ever seeing a Bugatti anywhere in South Florida. Actually, I finally did see one on December 24, 2011, which was more than 3 years after this picture was taken. As strange as it may seem, everytime I go see Sylvie Vartan perform somewhere, I see a super Bugatti! That was the case on September 29, 2006, when I went to her gala in Monte-Carlo: The first thing I saw after I got out of the train station in Monaco was a Bugatti! It was a statue of the car that won the first Grand Prix of Monaco in 1929. In the above picture, I am at the Palais des Congrès where Sylvie Vartan just did a concert earlier that afternoon. She would do one more concert in the evening, too, only less than one hour after this picture was taken and I actually went to both concerts! Lo and behold and here is that super Bugatti once again! OK, so it’s only a model and not the real thing but still, this is quite a coincidence. When the subject of Sylvie Vartan comes up, I think of many coincidences. Like me, Sylvie Vartan was also born in Bulgaria. In 1952, she left her homeland with a group of 4 people to escape from the terror of communism. On XMAS Eve that year, she arrived in Paris with her parents and her brother Eddie. About 10 years later, another group of 4 people including me, my mother, my uncle and a cousin, also fled from the hell of communism and our destination was exactly the same as theirs: Paris. Now that’s quite an amazing coincidence! I have wondered many times if these are really coincidences. Perhaps my destiny was meant to be this way.o end, it’s absolutely incredible!!! I have wondered many times if these are really coincidences. Perhaps my destiny was meant to be this way. (Nikon D50)
 

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