La Bonne Glace

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La Bonne Glace
(kathy hussey)

[english translation follows]

Il fait chaud et
Le soleil tape
Je dois me rafraichir
J'ai un brulante soif

Glace, glace, glace
Glace, glace, glace
La bonne glace
Palavas
Glace, glace, glace
La bonne glace

Sable entre mes orteils,
Bruits des vagues
Je dors les seins nus
Me reveille et puis je nage
Vive la plage!

Glace, glace, glace
Glace, glace, glace
La bonne glace
Palavas
Glace, glace, glace
La bonne glace

Le chanson sans cesse
Le long de ma mollesse
Proche puis loin
Ici ensuite partie
Ç'est çe qu'il dit:

Oh, la bonne glace - glace, glace, glace
Oh, la bonne glace - glace, glace, glace
Oh, la bonne glace

Glace, glace, glace
Glace, glace, glace
La bonne glace
Palavas
Glace, glace, glace
La bonne glace

Je suis sur que
Ce chantuer port bonheur et joie
Tous les plaisirs de vie
Sa charrette ouvre la voie
comme ça

Glace, glace, glace
Glace, glace, glace
La bonne glace
Palavas
Glace, glace, glace
La bonne glace
La bonne glace

Translation (with no attempt to be poetic):

It is hot and
The sun is beating down
I need to cool off
I have a scorching thirst

Ice cream....
Good ice cream
(this may have been a brand name "La Bonne Glace")
Palavas...etc

Sand between my toes
Sound of the waves
I am sleeping topless
I wake, then swim
Long live the beach!

The song is unceasing
All along my lethargy
Near then far
Here then gone
This is what he says

"Ooooh, la bonne glace
glace, glace, glace" 3X

CHORUS

I am sure that
The singer brings good luck and joy
All the pleasures of life
His cart paves the way
like this

CHORUS

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The Story:

June 14 2002

J'ai ecrit ce chanson...oh, sorry. In English please.

My husband, Bob, and I were in France in the mid-90s...he was in the house
band for a music festival in Montpelier (backing up Kathy Chiavola and Randy
Howard, Molly Scheer...etc). We had the most incredible time there, and in our
down time spent some days lolling about on the beaches in the south of France,
mostly Palavas and Carnon which are close to Montpellier.

The one thing that stood out the most from those few days on the beach,
besides all the breasts, was the ice cream vendor, who pushed a cart up
and down the beach, selling italian ices and "glace", which is french for both
ice and ice cream, in this case it meant ice cream. He had a song that he
sang ALL DAY LONG and he would disappear for a while and then you could
hear him slowly approaching again, singing his song at the top of his lungs
(which, as we singers know, is not the best place from which to sing, but I digress).

The bridge of this song is what he sang, exactly. "Ohhhhh, la bonne glace.
Glace, glace, glace:|| ad infinitum. "La bonne glace", directly translated,
means "the good ice cream", and I have come to suspect that it was a
brand name...

It was actually 6 years between that trip and when I finally wrote this song,
but the kernel of inspiration never faded because it was drilled into my brain
those couple of days. Funny thing, speaking of kernels, there was also a
popcorn vendor who handed out free samples...we decided that he was most
likely hired by the guys selling "glace" and "limonade", because between the
dry popcorn, the sun, the sand and the salt water, all you could think about
was something cool to eat or drink by the time you had eaten a couple handfuls....

I decided that since the inspirational phrase was in French, the rest of the song
should be as well. I had a great time writing this with my French/English
dictionary and a newly procured Dictionary of French phrases close at hand.
It was actually easier than I thought it would be to be poetic and to actually RHYME
in French - I kept getting very lucky - I'd decide what i wanted to say and then look
a few things up and there would be a perfectly rhyming set of words that fit exactly
with my intended meaning...it could have easily gone to the contrary, and I might
have never finished. I have an interesting relationship with the language - lots
of school French and not nearly enough practical usage, but plenty to get me
in trouble, as it turns out:

This festival was held on the grounds of an ancient castle, and we were treated
incredibly well - wined and dined as only the French can do - but when the music
was happening, everyone that I knew was onstage, and I was left to my own devices....
one night, I was out in the crowd with one of our lovely hostesses, and she introduced
me to several women who were friends of hers...I had insisted to her that I was fine
with speaking French and she didn't need to coddle me by asking everyone to speak
English. One of them asked what I was doing in Montpellier and with a gesture towards
the stage, I said "Mon mari est le tombeur" which I was certain meant "my husband is the
drummer" and I was quite pleased with myself for having prepared this phrase for just
such a moment...every one of them sort of gasped and uttered the French equivalents of
"really?!" and "oh my!" - I darted a look at Christene who managed to stop laughing long
enough to tell me that "tambour" [tom-boor] (as in, tambourine) is the word for drummer...
"tombeur" [tome-bare], the word that I used, is what they call a man who is a womanizer.
A fine, but very significant pronunciation distinction. The icing on the cake was that just
moments later, Molly Scheer, from the stage, introduced him as "International Playboy,
Bob Mater". Mon Dieu.