Lies Woody Allen Told Me (about Paris, in Midnight in Paris)

1. There is nothing more beautiful than Paris in the rain. Bullshit, Woody. I don't know if you've noticed, but besides being a boyfriend killer, rain is wet, sir. Wet and cold. Paris in the rain is like everywhere else in the rain: unpleasant. There aren't hoardes of people meandering about in the rain admiring the majestic beauty of the moistened avenues. No, sir. They're all flipping up umbrellas and trying to gtfo the streets. Unless, of course, you're walking back from returning the rental car with your mother in which case you will, indeed, walk ten blocks in the rain--but you'll be shivering and pissed and not at all in the admiring mood.

2. Les jardins de Monet are a secluded romantic spot. Not so, Woody, not so. Les jardins de Monet are a place for disgruntled school children to trample unchecked through 200 year old gardenias in persuit of wild chickens and pungent homeless men to stand by and hope no one notices them pissing in the water lilli pond. Entertaining? Perhaps. Romantic? Not quite.

3. Owen Wilson could roam easily through the city streets. At this point, Woody, I'm beginning to doubt you've ever been to Paris. Owen is a person of respectable size and stature. Little known fact: Paris was built to make Napoleon feel tall. My father, not the largest of gents, can't help but mow down miniature Parisians on our way through the Metro. I have to duck my 5'4" head in order to walk through the doorway to the hotel's breakfast room. Setting Owen Wilson loose on the city would be like Yao Ming in the Shire. The man is a Goliath among Davids. Owen Wilson needs somewhere a bit bigger--like Portland, Oregon.

4. The Streets are Paved with Taxis. Oh no, no, no. In the movie, all Owen or Rachel McAdams had to do was to lazily fling their arm out into the road and a Taxi would materialize out of thin air, as though taxis were roaming Paris in the hundreds, searching for willing customers. I mean, the man caught a taxi back in time, for God's sake. I could do backflips up and down Rue de Honore, naked, while a trained elephant sent up solar flares, and the Paris taxi drivers wouldn't so much as blink an eye. Needless to say the metro and I have gotten very farmilar.

5. Paris is oozing with writing talent. Paris? The Paris known for painting, fashion and sculpture? American writers all did time here in the '20s, but French? Are there even any French writers out there? Oh, that's right, Dumas. Pronounced in the U.S. dumbass.

6. French Men are oh-so-romantic. But it's their B.O. we remember most.

7. "There's nothing happening on Jupiter or Neptune, but from way out in space you can see these lights, the cafés, people drinking and singing. For all we know, Paris is the hottest spot in the universe." Well there you have me, Woody. Paris, in fact, does seem to be the center of the universe--and I'm in love with it.