Nope. Just can't figure it out. Why on earth, at the end of another grueling sales cycle, would so many Americans scrape together the last of their resources, in energy and funds, and get on a plane for one final auction in France? Setting aside, that is, the langoustines and truffles; the calvados and cider; the designer boutiques; the Christmas lights that transform an elegant summer resort into a filmset apt for a French remake of It's A Wonderful Life; the medieval villages huddled, in the early dusk of midwinter,...