You know, I started noticing something just after we moved to Paris. People kissing in the street. But the part I loved the most is the people kissing in the street were older. Like, in their sixties or older. And these kisses weren't just a simple little peck on the cheek, or the traditional French greeting of a kiss on each cheek. No, these were passionate kisses. My favorite to date was when the boys and I were waiting in the freezing cold outside the Parc Monceau for some friends, and an older couple walked up to the Metro stop, stopped, and gave each other a beautiful, loving kiss before parting. Of course I had enough respect not to snap a photo at the moment, so I've added Robert Doisneau’s beautiful, iconic photo “The Kiss by the Hôtel de Ville" to make my point. And I love it because I walk on this same corner several times a week.
And this whole thing has got me to thinking. I very, very rarely see kisses like that between older couples in the States. It seems to me that, for some reason, in our culture we are a bit disgusted by public displays of affection from people over a certain age. I remember quite a few years ago there was an ad with a couple making out, and then when the camera went wide you saw that it was an elderly couple and everyone's first reaction was EWWWW!
I wonder why this is. I mean, maybe I'm asking the question just because I'm getting older myself, but does passion end? Do those kisses end? I don't think so, and I'm taking a mental note to remember this lesson from the French. And to my friends who have rolled their eyes at Steve and I and our public displays of affection I say get ready for more PDA's for many more years to come.
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