This morning I walked through the quiet Paris streets, metros and trains shut for a strike, pedestrians complaining but secretly exalted. Because today didn’t feel like yesterday, or the day before. Frustrated logistics seemed to present new possibilities. I talked to strangers. A few quoted impressive statistics, having dutifully tuned-in, while on a corner a bum in yoga pants channeled Frank Sinatra, and beside a blinking Christmas tree a pretty North African cried her makeup off while talking into a cellphone sporting rubber bunny ears. Everybody knew what really mattered, but nobody could articulate it. So we moved on.⠀