The Parc Monceau is a jewel of Paris’ elegant 8th arrondissement, surrounded by fabulous townhouses and peppered with follies (an Egyptian pyramid in miniature, an Italian rotunda, and Greek columns around a duck pond) that lend it a romantic atmosphere. Teenage couples have drunken picnics, dapper old men make their afternoon rounds, and silly American expatriates read Thomas Hardy novels under pink flowering trees.

It reminded me of Central Park, except that everyone in Central Park seems in a hurry to get somewhere. There’s a major taxi route running through it, after all. The French seem to understand the whole relaxing/picnicking thing, whereas Americans get nervous easily during their leisure time. More often than not, you can spot a New Yorker walking his dog at 7am while responding to business emails on his Blackberry. Call it ambition, call it multi-tasking, but Americans like to mix business and pleasure.

Here’s to enjoying spring, because you never know when the world will explode in an apocalyptic frying pan catastrophe orchestrated by the government, sponsored by Wal-Mart, and hosted by Heidi Montag.

- Haley Hogan

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