Paris was most well known for activities of this nature. Revolution was a kind of a flash mob = totally unexpected, mass mobilised, message got across efficiently. Now one needs to notify the police in advance for every public gathering. The French Constitution reserves the right for people to hold demonstration in public places (anyone in the territory; whether citizen or foreigners. France' Constitution encompasses everyone. The objective is that all humankind benefit from what the Republic has to offer under the three pillars: equality, fraternity and liberty). Besides the few times I was caught in the traffic congestion when I was in a hurry to get somewhere, I - bizarrely- enjoy watching the street demonstrations. Very often I just run into them by chance (Well, Robert Di Nero did run into me on Champs Elysee for example. See post "Those who Sejour in Paris") Quite often this happens when I was on a city bus somewhere between Etoile, Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame; as these are the major attractions not only for tourists but also for the demonstrators. Normally the bus driver would tell us to get off the bus as he couldn't continue the journey given the road blockage. Once during her extended visit, my mother, the career shopper, was on her way to ave. Montagne where designer shops co-habit with the prime minister's office, was told that the bus could no longer proceed. Mother the smart cookie insisted that the driver make a U-turn and bring her back to where she started otherwise she would be terribly lost. The driver did chauffeur her back safely to Place Victor Hugo. I had no such courage, for the driver would most likely have other plans in mind if I suggested that he drive me back. In any case, it is as common as a good espresso in Paris that the traffic comes to a halt due to some street demonstration. Well, since you can't proceed, then might as well sit down and have a good espresso at an outdoor cafe until the affair is over and you can continue your merry way.
Sometime I "happened upon them" by simply being in my own bedroom. (Fret not, I was no
Marie Antoinette confronting the rebels in my chamber). Once a great assembly of African dancers and singers in delightfully multi-coloured dresses and hair pieces cam marching along the avenue outside our window (I didn't realise it was meant to be a political demonstration until I saw the police). Their agile movements, swift steps, electrifying drum beats, and energetic chants were very inviting. I thought it was a flash mob as in, dancers and carnivals, that maybe ordinary people of no particular political inspiration were welcome to participate). There were no need for microphone/loud speaker, nor DVD players. They were singing naturally to the rhythm of the drums. I still have no idea what the cause was. It was a group of foreigners who were not entirely satisfied with the election results of their home country. It had nothing much to do with France besides that the police force was guarding the embassy of the country in question. The music, however, had stayed with me for many years.
Speaking of election result, one of the smallest countries freshly freed itself from USSR had their embassy set up near our place. On one Sunday morning (apparently, the day after their election), a handful (literally, there were FIVE) of individuals were standing outside the embassy shouting into an empty office. There were two police cars on site which made the law enforcement outnumbered the demonstrators by 1.5 times. These five were singing some very sorrowful songs that even I wanted to shed a few tears. (Yes, I, the arrogant and elusive Parisien who has seen it all....) For pretty much the whole day, this small congregation sang and drank (vodka) on the sidewalk while the police sitting gently next to them. Eventually they left - until the next election - so they told the audience.
At the same corner, we were woken up (don't ask me why were sleeping at 8pm) one Saturday by thousands of roller blades, swishing through the avenue under the window. They were at least 2000 of them, most wearing helmets with roller blades that sparkled. Led and followed by police motorcycles. It must have been fun to do it - if you can keep up - as these guys are very very good at it. Once in a while they did this, and traffic from Champs-Elysee, Avenue Foch to Concorde stopped. Yes, time for nice drink before hitting the road again. That's the charm of Paris. She has her own rhythm, and you just have to be patient.
I was no roller blader - generally feel safer inside tons of metals if I am to control something with wheels. However, I enjoy watching public events in the neighbourhood. Once I dragged my daughter to participate in an international Marathon which started at Arc de Triumph, 8am sharp. By "participating", I mean we were running alongside the runners. (We, on the sidewalk. They, on the avenue). After 1 or 2 km (more like 1km), we lost them when they entered the Boi de Boulongue. We u-turned back and waited for them by Avenue Foch and joined in the greeting and cheer leading procession to welcome the winners (an Ethiopian, followed by a Kenyan)at the finishing line.
A real flash mob that has been trend setting is the Diner en Blanc ("White Dinner"). Started in Paris some 20 years ago, it is now a very popular event in major cities like New York, San Francisco, Sydney, Milan, London and Singapore. It started out as a secret activity where a group of young showed up by surprise in their best white suit to enjoy an elegant picnic. You are not supposed to know where the picnic is taking place until you board the special coach. Invitation is strictly by telephone through personal network. One rule is that you got to look good. They were not notifying the police in this case. Usual places are Etoile, Notre Dame, Champs du Mars, Invalid, Place des Voges, and Concorde.
We were invited by a friend who was a stage actor. As it was a weekend, we had to ask for babysitters like university students in the neighbourhood. All three we asked said they were going as well so we ended up staying at home. Now it is a worldwide event, well organised, carefully publicized with major sponsors and commercial partners. Still, it is a fantastic event. Apparently, one guy proposed to his girlfriend that evening at the Diner in Singapore. 
And that is what I call "the creme de la creme of a flash mob".
(See I told you I was going to talk about "love" in the next few days.)
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