We Americans like to appropriate other peoples’ holidays. I’m as guilty as anyone — on Cinco de Mayo we have friends over for fish tacos and margaritas; never does a St. Patty’s Day pass by without corned beef, cabbage and Guinness. And Chinese New Year always represents an opportunity for lacquered duck. But we the people haven’t seemed as taken, for some reason, with Bastille Day. 
I was in Paris once for Bastille Day. I remember tanks on the Champs Elysees, jets flying low overhead, drunk Parisians everywhere, reveling. I’ve always been enamored of France, and Paris in particular. More
skinny girls & mayonnaise 