W̶h̶o̶ i̶s̶ T̶h̶i̶s̶? No, whose Hands Are These?

If you are a French, you should immediately know? If you are an American, you’ll know that Muhammed Ali was a better actor than Silvester Stallone pretending to be a boxer. He’s a good boxer on film: good music, good film editing, all choreographed. Right? But four sequels are four too many.
We salute Vitali Klitschko, “boxing” for his life and all Ukraine’s and all the rest of the free world, as Mayor of Kviv. Budmo, Ukrainian for “cheers.” I’d say a boxing match with Putin, winner take all.
But I digress.
The image above is one of a dozen we have on our website, WhiskyMoods, an online lifestyle magazine. It is by the 20th Century French fashion and cultural photographer, George Dambier. Here we tell the back story of Marcel Cerdan, France’s most famous and popular boxer. In 1938, he beat Omar Kouidri in a 12-round decision at Casablanca to claim the French welterweight title.
He was a gentleman boxer, one of Edith Piaf’s lovers in the heyday of the Copa, and a French resistance helper spreading a stretch of barbed wire to help a friend to freedom. Read full story, here.
Édith Piaf “Je Ne Regrette Rien” , “ I regret nothing”
Non, rien de rien No, nothing at all
Non, je ne regrette rien No, I do not regret anything Ni le bien, qu’on m’a fait Nor the good, that was done to me
Ni le mal, tout ça m’est bien égal Neither evil, I don’t care at all
Non, rien de rien No, nothing at all






