Antibes/Juan les Pins had its most glorious days during the twenties when American people brought a certain way of life of fun, enjoying the sandy beaches, and Jazz. It was an immediate success and all of Europe's youth came in search of fun with the best know American stars such as Frank Jay Gould, Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald, or Douglas Fairbanks used to go to Juan. That was the beginning of les années folles (the crazy years). After World War II, the exuberance atmosphere of Juan started again, making it the European New Orleans.

In the early sixties the region became a cultural magnet for many of the artists of the European continent. Chief among these was Pablo Picasso, a Spanish born painter who'd spent most of his life in Paris before moving to Antibes around 1947. In 1944, Picasso had announced that he had joined the French Communist Party, which opened him up to sharp criticism. His political beliefs evolved from his early experiences growing up in near poverty, as well as from his wartime perspective, and he didn't budge in his commitment to the ideal of communism.

After settling into the coastal town he became interested in the classical cultural tradition of the Mediterranean. Mythological daydreams of nymphs, satyrs, fauns, and centaurs soon filled his works and from 1946 to 1953, he lived with Françoise Gilot, and together they had two children, Claude and Paloma. Françoise, his flower child, was the subject of many of his paintings during the Sixties.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I didn't know what I could accomplish with Charles in tow, his desire to stay away from all things young and illegal was an anchor dragging me along the sea bottom. Alas, now that I had apparently refound my sexual temperament I was cursed with a moral conscience as my sidekick.

We ate at a small sidewalk café, one of many that dotted the coastal road above the sea along the fortified walls. The Mediterranean Sea sparkled in the early afternoon light, my excellent Salad Niçoise aided by a tall cold glass of beer, my alcoholic tendencies kept in mind and still in check. I knew I was prone to falling off the wagon but I wasn't going to live my life in fear of a simple taste of alcohol spinning me back into the gutter. Yes, I knew many a good men had uttered the same words and I was not Superman but I was who I was. Sort of a Popeye figure... I am what I am type of person.

The thoughts of the two French jeune filles from the train filled my mind, the delectable eye candy with the firm derriere on the older fourteen-year old, the innocence and allure of the emerald gray eyes of the younger eleven-almost twelve- year old. I picked up my cell and the note she'd given me and dialed.

"Bonjour," a tinkling young voice answered and I recognized it as the younger sister Yvette.

"Comment allez-vous?" I replied.

"Sava, et vous," she replied, "are you two still looking for company?"

"Sure, where are you?"

"We are at the playa, with some friends but they are rather boring, too intellectual, you understand?"

"Oui, intellectual. You want a little more excitement, fun. An afternoon of possible romance with an older man, is that it?"

"Afternoon," she giggled, "is that all you are good for, just an afternoon?"

"We'll have to see, won't we? Tell me are you chaste?"

"Am I a young virgin? But of course, you take me for some trollop. I am just an innocent school girl, not some 'ho as your American hip-hoppers say."

I laughed. "What about Marion, is she game?"

She spoke briefly to her sister and came back on. "Game on. When?" ......(cont)