So, what's a Flaneur?

If I were a woman, I'd be a Flaneuse.  But, I suffer from an inferior gender identity, being male, so I'm a Flaneur.  My on-line dictionary defines a flaneur as a "stroller, idler, loafer, lounger."  I like all those, and I enjoy doing all four, often at the same time, but the problem is they don't fit the word.  "Flaneur" is not only a French word, it's a very Parisian one.  It applies to that person who likes to wander the streets of this particular city, preferably with no visible, conceptual, or even imaginary object in view.  The Flaneur goes where his feet take him, nosing around this most beautiful and individual of cities, observing the local flora and fauna, dodging its sometimes chaotic traffic, smelling its smells, tasting its tastes.  Tourists are not Flaneurs because the definition of a tourist is someone who sees what s/he has come to see.  I'm sometimes a tourist, and I have nothing against tourists.  I think they get a bad rap, but I've been to this city many times over the last thirty years, lived in it for months at a time, and now, having visited most of the places one would come here to see, I sometimes just start some place and wander.  As I wander, I make comments to myself, and because several people have--with more kindness than common sense, I think--suggested I write some of these comments down, I've decided to do it.  I hope they won't regret suggesting it once they read it.  I take some comfort in the knowledge that I may at least cure readers of insomnia.  That's a public service of a kind.  I don't promise that my impressions of this city I've come to love so much will be particularly original, but they will be true, or at least, as true as I can make them.  Feel free to comment.