I've loved that song with a passion since I first heard it on an import Moody's compilation LP in 1972, and I still think it's the best pastiche of French pop in all of post-Beatles rock. So you can imagine how cool it was for me to pose on the very street Laine was pouring his heart out about at long last. Sentimental old fluff that I am.
That picture's from last year, BTW, but the passage of time since then has dimmed my youthful Groucho-ness not one whit, or so I like to think.
