[a few words from Chico]

Saw an old French gangster flick last night, Touchez pas au grisbi (Don't touch the loot). The lead character, Max, wants to retire with the proceeds of his big score (this is a heist movie that doesn't show you the heist), but his partner gets tripped up by a woman (of course) and things don't go as planned. Max is definitely French old school gangster. He has a secret sports car and a secret hideaway filled with mod furniture, complete with a fridge filled only with champagne and pate. He has a cupboard full of pressed pajamas, and a spare toothbrush for his pal (he even offers to sleep on the couch so his partner can have the bed). He's the kind of guy who tries to keep his friends out of trouble, but goes to the mat for them when they ignore his advice. The whole movie makes you want to make more gangster friends. We don't know anyone with a pistol, let alone a submachine gun. Those things come in handy from time to time. We don't even know anyone with a second apartment, let alone a secret hideaway. We must start preparing better for the inevitable time when the shit hits the fan and they all come looking for you.