I just saw “Midnight in Paris”, Woody Allen’s latest, less than wonderful movie, and could barely get passed the shoes the fiancee and her mother wore throughout. High heeled, wedges, stilettos–none of which would be possible to wear in Paris, unless you were either born and bred in Paris, or you were carried around by large henchmen. Furthermore, these two ladies obviously never got that famous tourist syndrome–the blister-that-never-goes-away. The last trip I took to Pari