A few years ago, Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman starred in a fun movie called "The Bucket List." Nicholson and Freeman played a pair of aging geezers who made a list of things they wanted to do or places they wanted to see before they "kicked the bucket," then got busy having a ball.

I have such a list myself. But the number of places to visit on my personal bucket list is now shorter by one.

Paris is out. But not for reasons you might expect.

All my life I've heard the French were rude, haughty and notoriously inconsiderate to outsiders. That doesn't bother me. I know social clubs that operate the same way. Besides, I've heard many travelers say their French hosts were as warm and welcoming as any people they'd ever met.

I figured if Paris was anywhere near as pretty as the pictures, a bite of fresh-baked croissant followed by a stroll down the Champs Elysee or along the Left Bank had to be worth a bit of hassle.

But maybe not. According to a recent Wall Street Journal story, visitors to Paris might want to pack an extra-long, heavy-duty raincoat. Not to protect against bad weather. To protect against outdoor urinators that have turned parts of Paris into an open sewer.

In photographs and movies, the streets of Paris are always depicted lined with tacky open air urinals that leave little to the imagination, much less the sense of smell.

In the past, they were excused as quaint, stinky reminders that the French were so full of life (or something) that they couldn't waste time lining up for restrooms. They had to get on with the business of living.

But apparently a new breed of Parisians has taken things a bit too far.

Despite an abundance of new enclosed outdoor toilets, the streets of Paris are more awash than ever in a liquid that isn't bottled by Chanel.

According to the WSJ story, Paris now smells so bad the local government has formed pee-pee patrols to spot and fine outdoor offenders caught in the act.

The restroom police force is known as Brigade des Incivilites, or Bad Behavior Brigade. They fine folks for littering or not picking up dog poop, but are mainly interested in stopping what they call urine savage, roughly translated as "wild urine."

City workers wash walls, spray streets and do what they can, but one told the WSJ it made no difference.

"It masks the smell," the worker said. "It doesn't wash it away."

Frankly, my dear, I don't get it.

When one is interfacing with nature, outdoor restroom usage is sometimes necessary. In fact, when I was in Boy Scouts, if you went on a weekend camping trip and didn't use the outdoor restroom areas, you were in danger of having your bladder explode.

But the scouts and everyone else, from the Methodists to the Masons, knew that when you went to town, you didn't treat the street like a latrine. You either found a public restroom or "held it" until you got home.

This behavior can be stopped. The Journal reported that last year, New York cops issued over 18,000 tickets for public urination. The Big Apple is still a swell place to walk.

The French only issued 1,110 tickets for the same offense in the first nine months of '09. That's a pretty clear sign that deep, down inside, Parisians don't mind a little public pipi.

But I do. So I won't be going to Paris. If I ever want to witness such tacky outdoor antics, I'll go to the zoo.

(Send your e-mail comments to: alex@ newnan.com)