the foutains get tired


Turn off the fountains, they can’t take this anymore. For this reason alone, winter at Versailles is the best time of the year. Oh they have those summer days when they turn them all on, and the music, they call it the Big Water and Musical Gardens, and you can hear it anywhere you go. The same CD all day, every day. Water spewing, music blaring. Who is responsible for this?  I want to shake his hand. 

You may question this, but I am a very baroque person; and yet strolling in the park to the tune of something like “God Save the Queen,” by the same composer, taps into some PTSD affected part of my brain. The musical court of Louis was controlled by Lulli and Lulli’s end is what should be the grand finale in any composer’s career: While conducting his latest masterpiece and in a state of total ecstasy, Lulli whacked himself on the head with the cane and died of concussion.

It’s quiet now. You didn’t know it, and the Sun King didn’t either, but they would only turn on the fountains when Louis was there and only in the part of the park where he was.

Imagine, all this splashing at the time when an inhabitant of Paris would get half a liter of water a day. You know how much is half a liter? It’s a size of a bottle of vodka. OK, water is not vodka, you cannot drink more than that, but you have to strategize which part of you to wash and when. I am telling you, revolution was coming…, and now it is nice and quiet and we all have a flushing toilet.

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