Chambe-Elysees: After a winter of unrelenting grey and everlasting wetness, not to mention stupifingly boring politics; the mood of this mob of the moment was positively giddy. With a bass-line laid down by idling motors of thousands of vehicles, occasionaly punctuated by brief 13000 rpm 86 valve screaming Kawas, the piccolos of scores of motorized cameras, the gentle shuffle of sneakers, loafers, sensible shoes, boots, stilletto heels, and roller skates, the orchestra of the boulevard was indeed joined today by the fluty peeps of just arrived sparrows. If they were not in fact noises made by trinket sellers. The whole scene was made more than perfect by the scents of pizza, frites, diesel, perfume, cigars, exhaust from both overheated surface verhicles and seriously overheated disk-brakes rising from Paris' first Métro line underneath: the ultra-slam-fast Défénse-Vincennes line: in sum, an agreeable and totally Parisienne stink.