On Tears

Erik and Madeleine at the Di playground. Check out Madeleine's Vans.

Erik also a father this Father's Day and his son in Germany. He pursues his masters from the University of Chicago and his thesis a series of sonnets structured to Joyce's Ulysse and before Joyce, Homer. By coincidence I finished re-reading the "The Odyssey" last week but no match for Erik when it comes to poetry. We discuss other interesting things, as ever, and occupy ourselves with Israel and though I always get a little bent by his stubbornness, anon, I also learn from these exchanges as it has always been since '89 when we first met, the morning of July 5 (Oh how can I forget, Dear Reader, my first day at First Boston?) The kids love Erik too, of course, and Eitan begs to play penalty shoot-out all afternoon (we remain in the park until 7PM). Madeleine is somewhat less demanding - her bug-bear being ice cream: "Can I have one, dad? Can I have one, dad? Can I have one...."

Eitan wales on about missing tonight's football match between Switzerland and Portugal. Kick-off is past his bed time and it is a school night. It strikes me, as I lie on the coach watching football and listening to the boy cry, that if adults expressed their emotions similarly the world might be better off somehow.