It is of little wonder, that old stereotype about the French having a general disdain for Americans, when you consider that for years we simply cannot, will not, and have not even attempted to pronounce even their name correctly.  How would you feel if you were a young Chopin, cooking up masterpieces on the keys, and people butchered your name like a sous chef chopping vegetables?  Or keeping on that composer theme, a young Samuel Scheidt?  I won’t even go there.

Say it with me, my peeps: Fraaaaaahhhnce.

France is sexy.  Maybe you have to feel sexy before your American-trained tongue can say it right…so set that ambience.  It’s just a little nuance.  No need for a séance, you just have to mentally go to France!  So say it with me…Fraaaaaahhhhhnce.  We can write it in whatever fonts you like.  Get it wrong and be ready for some serious taunts.

I hope you didn’t say “Freance”, or I won’t give you another chance.  Go to a discotheque in Oberkampt and you’ll see a bunch of rhythmically-challenged Frenchmen dancing like they have ants in their pants, not a pretty sight.  So why should it rhyme?  When in France, there’s no need for pants at all—we’re going for sexy, remember?

So just remember….ambience.  Get a positive response…

Fraaaaaaaaahhhnce. 

Fraaaaaaaanhhce.

Fraaaaaaahnce.

Fraaaahnce.

Fraaance.

France.

Let’s go!