Obstacles to my Francophilia

Though my rants are usually dedicated to issues facing Latinos and Latin Americans, a recent event has provoked me to bare my American teeth.

How can the French support Roman Polanski?

In response to his recent arrest in Switzerland, the French are horrified about the U.S.'s intentions to have Polanski extradited so he may face charges of drugging and raping a minor. A crime mind you that he admitted to committing over three decades ago but fled to Europe to avoid trial.

Polanski's wife is calling on film directors to support Polanski. Yes, let's appeal to the dubious moral fiber of the entertainment industry.

This event, coupled with Zidane's head butt at the 2006 World Cup final, really creases my love for the French. Perhaps the Puritanical brainwashing I've received during my youth in the American public school system has inoculated me against ever really "getting" the French. But they seduce me with their scenic films and mind-altering food.

However, I can never really embrace the French. That part of my heart, the space carved out exclusively for Western European culture, is reserved for the English.