On the CeeDees 1986 self-titled album there’s song called France which goes, in part:

To see you would be thrilling, but I cannot take that chance.
What’s the time in France?
What’s the time in France?
Where in the hell is France?

My friend Oliver heads to Paris this week — alas without our small family in tow, as was the original plan — and I’ll be whistling the chorus all week long. It seems somehow appropriate that my copy of the album is sitting on my mantle, still wrapped in its original cellophane. Someday I’ll open it.

There’s an interesting article by Ron Graham about Curtis’ influence on gardener Marjorie Harris.