The First Day of the Rest of Your Life Page #3

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Chill out!

If they watch,

they'll see you and me...

in this yard.

You go. I'll only get mad.

You're a pain!

Where were you?

You forgot her?

You said midnight.

It's after 1:
00!

I'm not a kid!

- Lay off.

- Shut up!

That's enough. Calm down.

Don't talk to me like that!

I will if I want.

I'm your father.

Don't shove me, you jerk!

God damn loser!

You see, Dad,

that's grunge.

Friday, December 3, '93...

the first day

of the rest of my life.

LIFE IS A SEXUALLY

TRANSMITTED DISEASE!

SATURDAY, JUNE 22, 1996

Raph isn't here right now.

It's Mom. Today's

your brother's wedding.

Be on time.

Thank you, dear.

I didn't get a bottle today.

I didn't have time.

Come in. I've made tripe.

My own private reserve.

I'm listening.

Purplish hue...

Orangey reflections...

First whiff...

Preserved fruit.

With airing, the notes become...

- What's the word?

- More vegetal.

That's it.

Typical of St. Emilion?

At the second taste,

we find ripe fruit,

comfortable...

welcoming...

Spicy notes, too:

pepper, paprika and damp earth.

I drank this wine

every day for a year.

Your dad didn't tell you?

I was in the Resistance.

I didn't do much,

but the Gestapo arrested me all the same.

I escaped.

I fled to the Bordeaux area,

where a family of winegrowers

ran the risk of hiding me.

I stayed there

until France was liberated,

safe in their cellar.

Where they stocked this?

Chteau Sainte-Claudine.

Named after their daughter.

Your grandmother.

I never dared open one of these before.

Even the best scents

can make you suffer.

Is remembering her that painful?

You know...

everything reminds me of her.

These trinkets,

the furniture she hunted down...

That armchair was her favourite.

I can still see her sit down in it...

cross her legs...

and smile at me.

This apartment is a bit like...

a time machine?

A bit.

Fleur, come and see.

Come on, dear.

This is impossible.

I ask you to help,

and you mess me up!

You've put Aunt Anna

next to Cousin Jean.

So?

They haven't spoken for 25 years!

This will be a chance to.

It won't.

They can't be together.

You Shook Me All Night Long

by AC/DC.

Angus Young is the greatest.

He goes wild on the solos.

Angus Young...

The guy knows three chords.

He got famous with a duck-walk

stolen from Chuck Berry.

Hendrix's Voodoo Child then.

Better, but still not

the greatest rock solo.

Who then?

Pink Floyd? Van Halen?

- Come on.

- I don't know.

Led Zep? Black Sabbath?

Not Bon Jovi, surely.

Lynyrd Skynyrd, Free Bird.

Alan Collins, on his Explorer.

A solo that really rocks.

Five minutes of madness.

Just pray your fingers don't melt.

That's the third Angus Young wannabe

I've seen tonight.

Angus Young...

He knows three chords.

He got famous with a duck-walk

stolen from Chuck Berry.

You play guitar?

I mean, for real.

No, that's my air-guitar case.

Just kidding.

I teach guitar.

Do you play, too?

A little.

Would you teach me?

Trying to pick me up?

I'm not trying anything.

Pity.

Hold on. Let me guess.

I bet your style is...

romantic.

Still in love with a childhood sweetheart

you last saw 15 years ago.

Sarah Chevalier.

No, I've blanked her out.

You see, I knew it.

You might even be the kind

to fall in love with a girl

and not dare talk to her.

I'm talking to you.

Baby Stardust.

You're on in five.

- Baby Stardust?

- What?

When am I on?

What's your name?

Magic Fingers.

Just after her.

Let's go.

See you later.

I'm on next.

Great. Are you ready?

Show me how you hold your air guitar.

Your hand further out.

It's not a Fender Stratocaster.

You can hold it askew like this, too.

Frank Zappa style.

And use your face, as well.

When Hendrix hit high notes

in a solo,

he'd pull a face like this.

Like this.

That's it.

Like this, too...

There, that's it.

As if his fingers

were in a river of piranhas.

It's like you had that guitar

in your hands.

I could feel the strings vibrating.

It was fantastic!

By the way, remember to put

your mom's leopard-skin coat back.

She'll have kittens.

What's up with you?

It's that girl.

She didn't say goodbye.

It's not looking good.

You know, when I met your mom,

it didn't look good either.

But now...

What's that?

Her number.

It's not looking so bad then.

FOR GUITAR LESSONS...

Sh*t!

Stop the car!

Sh*t!

Come on,

we'll never find it now.

Hi, I'm not here,

but you can leave a message.

Hello, Moira, it's...

It's RaphaI Duval.

We met six or seven years ago

at a guitar competition.

Well, a guitar competition

without guitars and...

I just found your number.

And...

Listen...

if you want, you can call me

on 0143549217.

RaphaI Duval.

Magic Fingers.

I do.

Already?

Trust you!

Did he say "I do"?

Yes, he did.

A second ago.

Mr. Mayor, excuse me.

I hate to have to ask you this,

but could we backtrack a bit?

Back to where my brother

has to say "I do"?

That suits me.

I can do it better.

Exceptionally, we'll redo the vows.

Raph, did you see Grandpa today?

We had lunch,

like every Saturday.

- He said he'd be here?

- Yeah.

Where the hell is he?

Want me to go and see?

I do.

I declare you bound

by the bonds of matrimony.

Dad? It's me.

Come over, please.

What is this?

You didn't cancel?

Honey, it's already

complicated enough...

Robert, we can't just cancel.

I'm very sorry

about your father, but...

- I'm sure he'd have...

- Don't think for him!

You feel like partying?

It's their wedding.

They decide.

Honey, your father's dead.

It's terrible.

But what can we do?

It's your son's wedding.

Think of him.

Wrecking my wedding?

- Sh*t, Grandpa's dead!

- Calm down!

Fine, we'll all cry tomorrow.

Even so, Albert, I find you selfish.

Don't tell me what I'm like.

You've never looked at me!

All these years,

and you never noticed me.

No encouragement, nothing.

I see you now.

And I don't recognize you.

Like your dad,

you can't recognize your own son!

My father felt I wasn't worthy of him.

It's different.

No.

I'll never be worthy of you.

Know why?

Because I was dumb

and rated you too highly.

Want to wreck everything?

Let's do it!

You have a new message.

Today at 4:
12 p.m.

Hello. You left me

a message earlier.

I'm afraid you have the wrong number.

There's no Moira here.

SOCIAL SECURITY CARD

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 25, 1998

IF THE EARTH TURNS

YOU TURN WITH I:

Sorry to disturb you.

I'd like to talk to Antoine, please.

Antoine? He's in bed.

It's 4:
00 a.m., God damn it!

Why do you want my son?

Who are you?

I'm the mother of Fleur,

one of your son's friends and...

What now?

I woke you

and you're not pleased,

but you can still be polite!

Seen the time?

- Come to bed.

- Let's call the police.

Sure. And why not the FBI, too?

To say what?

Your 20-year-old daughter isn't home?

She's overage.

Let her live her life.

Two days without a word.

I'm frantic.

She's pulled this trick before.

Living here, she respects us.

She comes home or she calls!

She was still a baby only yesterday.

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