School Portrait and Fist Fights

From generation to generation - the same forced smile, goofy look and posed awkwardness - is it never not the case? Here is last years BTW. These photographs sent to grand-parents around the world finding themselves on the Grand Piano or in the dining room framed in silver for all to see. As it should be. On ours, both kids march to school having completed two-hours of homework on the week end. Madeleine acknowledges that she is prepared and I note that it must be a nice feeling - she reluctantly agrees. Given Gadwell, my aim is 10,000 hours in something. Otherwise it is a cold and cloudy day by the Thames. I await feedback for San Francisco and plan a trip there. Already I will see my folks and Guy and Jeanine+Katie in New York.

Christian sends us a care-package filled with all sorts of great things: a signed Philip Roth book, Kooks poster from the Worfield, Hotel Costes and Brazilian Girls CDs, T-shirts and more books. He also sends Eitan Man-U gear and Madeleine paints and brushes. Beforehand, the kids promptly fight over who gets to open the boxes. I find them on the ground kicking and grunting, surrounded by paper shrapnel; when they see me: boom! tears. Sometimes my anger is best conveyed in... complete... silence.

Divinity

Memorial Stadium following Cal's victory in the Big Game - thank you Christian.

I hear Malcolm Gladwell speak about his book "Outliers: The Story of Success" - Gladwell is best known for his book "The Tipping Point" - that illuminates secret patterns behind everyday phenomena. He begins with the NHL where players are mostly born from January to March (this BTW applies to European footballers and other sports). It turns out that youngster selections occur during this period and the biggest kids chosen who in turn receive the most training and resources; they may not be the most talented but this hardly matters over the long-haul. Gladwell argues that mastering complexity - music, sports, finance - requires 10,000 hours work and those who achieve do so because they have the opportunity to put the time in (swimming, any one?) He then explains cultural aptitudes - Chinese and maths, for instance. Asians for thousands of years have cultivated rice which is the most sophisticated early production known to man requiring 3,000 hours of labor per year+an understanding of drainage, seeding and multiple plantings. Contrast this to European's wheat at 1,000 hours and fairly straight-forward. Given this 10,000 year legacy is it no wonder that the Chinese thrive in arithmetic?

Gordon Brown announces a stimulus package and tax cuts in his new budget. Worringly, the Financial Times reports that the Britain's jobs boom from 1998 has been fueled by the public sector creating two out of three jobs. This suggests the private sector may not be equipped to weather a recession.

The Axe

The Axe, which goes to the winner of the Cal-Stanford Big Game, returns to its rightful home in Berkeley (picture from the Cal Daily archive) as we thump our private school preppy lame ass rivals 37-16 at Memorial Stadium. Go Bears! 

The first Big Game was March 19, 1892, on San Francisco's Haight Street grounds when Stanford beat Cal 14-10. It is the tenth longest rivalry in NCAA Division 1 football while the Cardinal leads the series 55-45 with 11 ties though I have never seen one (in '96 the NCAA created over-time). 

Happily, Cal has won six of the last seven including yesterday. This year, as every year, the Big Game makes up for a season's failings - Cal, we know all too very well, has not been to a Rose Bowl since '59 and Stanford 2000 (Brown went strangely in 1916 and a first college-memory is an advertisement for that in the Brown Daily Herald). 

While there has been many a cliffhanger, including 2000 when Stanford caught the winning touchdown on the final play of overtime, nothing matches '82 or the year of The Play. Grace, Moe and I were on the 40-yard-line to watch Cal's five-lateral run through the Stanford band including my distant-cousin Carl who plays trumpet (and was tackled by Kevin Mohn). John Elway shed teards on the following morning's Today Show. 

 Ah, sweet Jesus that is a fond memory and a moment right up there with getting into college or my wedding. I am glad I was present.

Led Zep

Sunday morning and we find snow which has now rain and sleet or a perfect reason to stay inside and do homework. Or blog. Sonnet breaks out to run around Richmond Park and I follow with a long-walk allowing me to listen to Led Zeppelin's "Mothership," a compilation of their best 18 tracks. Led Zep captures, better than any band I know, the emotional upheaval of the teen-age years: the volnerability, sex, break-ups, power-shifts and weirdness of it all. And the band not shy about their lyrics: "Way, way down inside, I'm gonna give you my love, I'm gonna give you every inch of my love, Gonna give you my love." Nothing ambiguous about that. Eric introduced me to songs like "D'Yer Maker" and "Fool In The Rain" my Freshman year when everybody was wiggy and exposed. Robert Plant's high-octive, nasal and whining chords captured the feelings of his message perfectly. What else on earth could send >70,000 into euphria ensemble? While there are huge bands today - Sonnet and I have seen some of them in London - none Godlike. Plant with is wavy golden hair, skinny body and stuffed trousers and Jimmy Page on guitar made the The Biggest Band In The World from 1972-79. Sex and drugs and Rock n' Roll (oh yeah). The band broke by 1980 when Plant grew tired and John Bonham asphyxiated on his vomit at 32. In December 2007 the band re-unioned for the first-time in >25 years at London's O-2 Centre.

Chelsea Blues

Eitan and I go to the Chelsea-Newcastle game yesterday, which ends in a nil-nil draw. Woo hoo. It's a perfect afternoon for it - cold and mostly clear though the few hanging clouds turn pink and orange over London as the sun sets around 4PM. Chelsea dominates the game taking 27 shots on goal (vs two for Newcastle) but no net. The fans are grumpy then angry and shout epitaphs not suitable for an eight-year old but hey - this is half the fun. Eitan, as my fearless readers and family will know, is a committed Manchester United fan and the boy refuses to compromise wearing his Man-U reds: shirt, hat and scarf. He makes a point of telling anybody who will listen that he hates Chelsea until I order him to put a sock in it; eventually he notes "I am a bit scared of the fans." Regardless of team-colours we see our heroes: Lampard (pictured), Joe and Ashley Cole, Deco... for Newcastle, there is only one: #10 Michael Owen, who exploded on the scene with a marauding run straight through the Argentine defence from the halfway line, finishing with a thumping shot to give England a 2-1 lead in the '98 World Cup second round, a match which England eventually lost on penalties - of course. I watched the game at a pub in Fulham amidst a delirious, joyful and ultimately irreconcilable audience. Magic.

Sonnet spends the afternoon with Madeleine taking her to the movies and pizza (pepperoni of course). The girls do some shopping on the Richmond High Street. Madeleine has fallen in love with my hat and begs me to get her one too - she looks rather cute in it, I must say. Scrappy.

Madeleine, making an omelette: "Can I put peanut butter in mine?"

Brown Bears Tie Ivy

Sunday morning it snows; the kids listen to Harry Potter CDs in Eitan's room where their "buddies" cover the floor (Madeleine has 83 "buddies" and transports them from her bed on a sheet. Smart). It is a big weekend in sports as Brown ties Harvard for first place in the Ivy League football (photo of Brown vs Harvard in 1959 from the George Street Journal). The Brown Bears earned its place defeating Columbia 41-10 playing in sub-freezing temperatures on the frozen Brown Stadium before a capacity crowd of 7,865. Just the way it should be. This is Brown's third Ivy title in the last 10 years and fourth ever league championship. I remember trudging to the athletic complex for football or track meets - it was about a 35 minute walk from campus so not taken lightly; the walk passes through Providence's East Side, a lovely tree-lined area with the highest concentration of Victorian houses in America - I should now since I painted many of them. While thinking of Brown, when I was a student the schoolchanged the team mascot from the Bruins, which I thought was kinda tough and fighting to the Brown Bears - which is sorta girlie, if you ask me. Going back further, Brown's first mascot was a burro, introduced in 1902 in a game against Harvard. The burro mascot was not retained after it seemed frightened by the noise of the game, and due to the laughter it provoked. The University eventually settled on the bear after the head of a brown bear was placed at an archway above the student union in 1904. In 1905 The Bears introduced Helen, the university's first live bear mascot, at a game against Dartmouth. Bruno, Brown's current mascot, was introduced in 1921, originally also as a live bear. A number of bears represented Bruno over the years, later being represented by a person in costume by the late 60's, including my friend Sarah who served from 1887-89.

Brown BTW played its first football match against Amherst in 1879. Playing for Brown was John Heisman, who attended the college from 1887 to '89 before transferring to the University of Pennsylvania 1890-91. Heisman's statue of course is famously given the America's best college footballer.

James And Stephen

From the RA, I walk to the Portrait Gallery to meet James for an afternoon with the impressionists (my favorite freebie). James and I met in the early Internet epoch when he was CEO of UpMyStreet.com, a promising directory business that eventually bit the dust. He then spent six years at Yahoo and became part of the founding team of Skype which was famously sold to eBay in September '05 for $2.6 billion, half of it in cash which presumably found its way to James's pocket. Today he advises venture funds and start-ups and we lament the lameness of the venture culture in Britain, which probably offers the most forward tech market in Europe. If it was bad then it is worse now - raising money for anything webby is nigh impossible. I used to follow the action, and the people, closely but the community has been decimated no doubt. In the go-go years I started a poker club which included a number of the new media luminaries - founders of sexy companies and their financiers. From about 2004 we lost momentum as the moribund tech market dragged on (and on) and the ex-pats repatriated. Our last game was in '07. I think of this because Sonnet and I have dinner with Jenn and Stephen, who was part of the cards table and a super quant jock so not too surprising that he thrives in the hedge fund world. Here he is pictured at Thanksgiving four years ago - he just looks like somebody who studied maths at Columbia and Chicago... which he did.


The average British teenager on the street is wearing clothes and carrying gadgets worth £655. (Daily Mail)

The Bank of England's base rate is expected to fall below 2% for the first time since the Bank was foremd in 1694. (Financial Times)

"I know how hard it is for you to put food on your family."
W., Greater Nashua, N.H., Jan. 27, 2000

Christ!

And yes, here it is Friday again. I have a cultural afternoon in town, visiting the Royal Academy and the Byzantium exhibition. The collection moves from 330 AD or the the foundation of Constantinople by the Roman Emperor Constantine the Great and concludes with the capture of the city by the Ottoman forces of Mehmed II in 1453. The remarkable piece in the collection is the Antioch Chalice (on loan from the NY MOMA). After its discovery in 1911, the silver gilted AC was believed to have been the Holy Grail, the cup used by Christ at the Last Supper. Holy cow! Other highlights are the two-sided icon of Virgin Hodegetria (obverse) and the Man of Sorrows (reverse), 12th century, from the Byzantine Museum, Kastoria, an impressive 10–11th century imperial ivory casket from Troyes cathedral depicting hunting scenes and riders and the Homilies of Monk James Kokkinobaphos, a manuscript from 1100–1150AD. I learn how the epoch produced icons of Christ, the Virgin Mary and other figures which became powerful religious symbols recognised then and today. In fact, the smartest thing Constantinople did was accept Christianity, which became the dominant religion of the Roman Empire within 100 years. Last month I saw Hadrian at the British Museum which covered his reign up to about Constantinople.

Indiana Jones: The Ark of the Covenant, the chest that the Hebrews used to carry around the Ten Commandments.
Major Eaton: What, you mean THE Ten Commandments?
Indiana: Yes, the actual Ten Commandments, the original stone tablets that Moses brought down from Mt. Horeb and smashed, if you believe in that sort of thing...
[the officers stare at him blankly]
Indiana: Didn't any of you guys ever go to Sunday school?

Screamer

Here's a reminder to all those who forget Year-One. Picture taken BTW at 4AM. On a work night. Still, there is no other way and we love them all the more for that endless first year of life.

For the record, Eitan is 138 centimetres and 30 kilograms and Madeleine is 125 cm and 25 kg. A year ago, Eitan was 131 cm (increase of 5.3%)and 26 KG (+15.4%) and Madeleine 120 cm (+4.2%) and 23.4 KG (6.8%).

Alistair Cooke

Alistair Cooke was on Radio 4 this morning - he passed, of course, 30 March 2004 at age 95 following 58 years of "Letter From America" the Jewel of the BBC. John Humphries and all of us recall him fondly and who could not? He is the face of Britain for most Americans beginning in '71 with PBS's Master Piece Theatre and then for us youngsters, Sesame Street's "Monsterpiece Theatre" which of course I remember. Cooke entered his permanent emigration in 1937, swearing the Oath of Allegiance six days before Pearl Harbor. Eventually he stood yards from Robert F. Kennedy when RFK was assassinated and then New York on 9-11. He was friends with politicians, sportsmen and celebrity- Charlie Chaplin the Best Man at his first-wedding (Chaplin did not show BTW) and received an honory knighthood in '73; he addressed the U.S. House of Representatives in '74. I became aware of Cooke's unique voice from '97 when I listened Letter every Sunday 9:15AM sharp. I sometimes wondered if his broadcasts taped or repeats but they never were - his last being March 3, 2004 and aired bedside. In the end, Cooke was not only a historian but lived through modern history. Like no other broadcaster he brought poignancy to then and now, here and there. I remember a missive about the Brooklyn Dodgers segueing into the modern business-media bridged by '50s shaving ads. Brilliant. Above all, Cooke was iconic - something recognisably British and good - like the BBC, 007 or WW II. Also like Churchill and the Empire - irreplaceable. Photo from PBS.

Here he is in '74 before Congress:

.. A great privilege to warmly welcome Mr. Alistair Cooke.

Alistair Cooke: Mr. Speaker, Mr. McDade, Members of the House of Representatives, distinguished guests, ladies and gentlemen: Of all the times that I have sat in this House in the past 30-odd years as a reporter and listened to Presidents requesting from you declarations of war -- not many of them anymore since you lost the power! -- listening to pronouncements that the state of the Union was good or bad or indifferent; and listening to debates on everything from the price of battleships to the coloring of margarine; I can assure you that this occasion is for me far and away the most terrifying. It was not at first put up to me as an ordeal, or even as a very great privilege, which indeed it is. I understood that there was to be a cozy get-together of some Congressmen, somewhere, a breakfast perhaps, at which I might be called on to say a few impromptu words. But standing here now I feel as if I were just coming awake from a nightmare in which I see myself before you unprepared and naked, as one often does in dreams, looking around this awesome assembly and blurting out "I accept your nomination for the Presidency of the United States."

On The Debt

Yes, the bliss of childhood. I have no memories of Viet Nam or Watergate, Patty Hears (in Berkeley for Pete's sake) or any of the nastiness from the early to mid-70s. I was old enough to see Saigon or Nixon but have no recollection whatsoever. My earliest civic memories are the Iran hostages and Reagan assassination attempt, bailing out Chrysler. So today the economic news seems forever bleak - Citicorp announces 54,000 job cuts, holy mackeral. The bank's losses to be concentrated in London - specifically, at Canary Wharf where there is a tower named just for the firm. No more. Britain is particularly volnerable to the recession given the high-consumer debt (the most, or worst, in Europe), housing over-reach and depence on The City which is London's Wall Street and now getting wacked hard. To counter the forces of evil, Gordon Brown announces tax cuts paid for by borrowing, placing further pressure on sterling which has fallen from 2.12 against the green-back to 1.45 - allow me to grunt "ouch" for the American ex-pat community. Stupidly George Osborne, the Shadow Chancellor, suggests that Labor's strategy may cause a run on the pound - as these things can be self-fullfilling I consider moving our everything off-shore. Brown's position BTW justified by our national deficit which is in the middle of the Industrial World compared to GNP, though the comp group ain't great: Japan is >100%. Am I the only one to observe that we are in trouble due to our snout-in-the-consumer-debt-trough and now we are told to... consume! Don't save - spend it all! Now! On the High Street! And when it is gone, then you can save. Me, I just bought a new pair of trainers so the plan is working. God save the Queen.

Star Wars

Here is your humble writer hard at work Monday morning. Oh brother. I do go for an early-morning walk+a six mile run all before lunch. Not bad for 41. In fact for the first time in >five years I think about a marathon. That would be an accomplishment but since my hero did London this year... what excuse do I have, really? The problem has never been motivation but rather injury so this go-around I do more cross-training with swimming and weights added into the mix. Stay tuned as I'm sure all ten of you on the edge of your seats. Yesterday the original Star Wars is on the the tele. Every little kids was a sci-fi nut in the 70s and mine no exception. So as ever I happily catch up with Luke, Lea, Hans and of course Obi-Wan Kanobi ("now there's a name I have not heard in a long time") - Katie and I caught a few S-W matinees my second-year of business schoool and then again at the IMAX in London one gloomy London afternoon (what could be better then popcorn+Star Wars+your little sis at a rainy-day movie?) plus Sonnet and I saw the re-mastered version in Sarasota, Florida when visiting Grandma Dorothy. My first-time viewing at the Coronet theatre in San Fran in '77 and believe you me we queued around the block. The Coronet was an old-time theatre too and the way it should be with a huge screen sitting maybe several thousand. Seeing the scale of the Imperial Star Destroyer chasing the rebel ship in those opening scenes - wow! I still get excited, as I did yesterday with Eitan and Madeleine - though they are cheated out of the Big Screen this time. We go around saying "Luke, use the force" and it is like 30 years ago.

Jazz

Madeleine does her Sunday home-work, which includes Kumon, maths, time-telling and reading. She concentrates though sometimes her imagination takes her elsewhere. Saturday I do a jog-swim then spend the morning gutting our back-yard which needs a winter pruning. Unfortunately and to my regret I learn not to prune the hydrangeas ex post facto. Madeleine accompanies me to the dump where we recycle about everything including the ten bags of backyard organics (the BBC reports BTW that the countries buying our recyclables, namely China, cannot afford to do so and our efforts going straight into landfill. It makes me weep). Saturday we head for the Queen Elizabeth Hall at the Southbank Centre where Sonnet organises a family-evening around the London Jazz Festival - Fun! We haven't been here in a while. We catch a crowded train into Waterloo (teens into town to par-tay) then have dinner at Wagamama's overlooking the Thames and north-side, which aglows. Eitan and Madeleine wide-eyed and there is plenty of excitement- despite a recession, this area is humming: bars, dates, skate-rats, strollers, teens smoking fags, elderly couples holding hands, jazz, restaurants, above-ground subways, noise, noise, noise, joggers, skips, the London Eye and the millennium bridge crossing a full Thames reflecting an equally full moon. Wow. Wow. Wow. Hard to believe that Tony Blair promised to rebuild this area by '02 when the concrete was considered an artistic abomination. We see Melody Gardot BTW who is a jazz-youngster at 23 but recognised for her brilliant voice; she is surrounding by her band noting "all jazz is from the blues, which is only about suffering." At 19 Gardot was struck by a car and music her way back to life. By the second performance Eitan is snoozing on my shoulder, poor kid, but the suggestion of leaving nets a protest from our night owl - yes, Madeleine gets going in the late hours. She is a cool cat.

NPR reports that "lame-duck" was used in the British stock-markets of the 1700s referring to somebody unable cover his debts; by the early 18th century it was applied to British politicians and eventually embraced by the Americans (presumably after '76). And why a duck? Who knows, Dear Sir, who knows.

Madeleine And Swimming

I have some hopes for Madeleine's swimming. Assuming her interest sticks, Madeleine just may have the temprement and body-type to become a "swim-racer," as the kids call it. The first easy: determined, competitive and stubborn. Perfect for the isolation and work ethic required of aquatics. No coach nor team will drive achievement, that is for sure. On body type, Madeleine already the second or third tallest in her class though her birthday falls towards the beginning of the school year. Since age-two, when we doubled her size to estimate her growth prospects, she has been on the right of the bell-curve: her charts suggest 5'10'' or even, gulp, 5'11'' (this from Sonnet's side as Stan and his brothers tall - Uncle Bill, for instance is 6'4''). Most swim-racers these days are tall and lanky with developed upper-bodies, big hands and flipper-sized feets. Darra Torres is six foot and can probably bench press a truck. Or check out Katie Hoff. Madeleine for her part has never been a girlie-girl eschewing doll-houses, frilly dresses and Tom Puffery. She loves a good tree or pair of dungerees. This may be the earliest indication yet - any swimmer will tell you that to be half-way good you myst be different. >four hours training a day? Crazy.

Ze Prince Is 60

For the record, I like Charles who celebrates his birthday. HRH has the worst job ever: awaiting his mum's death. In the mean time, he faffs about with his various charities and travel, promoting everything Britain but getting little respect in return I imagine. Rumours abound that The Queen and Philippe have always found Charles undependable and only this week - and for the first time I can remember - Elizabeth praised her son publicly. She is 82 BTW and fit as a fiddle+the Queen Mum was 102 when she bit the dust so Charles may have another twenty odd years before crowned. And poor Wils could find himself in the same spot - going to night clubs, courting the paparazzi and dating Kate Middleton into the latter half of his life. And forget about Harry. But back to ze Prince: he oozes royalty wearing his Saville Row double-breasted blazers with a neat kerchief poking out. His demeanor looks, well, kinda lazy or maybe aloof - his attitude suggests Ascot or the fox hunt. Charles gets little praise, though he deserves plenty of it, for starting Duchy Original in 1990 to promote organic food and farming and sustain the countryside and wildlife - we buy plenty of it and often. Charles indeed has gumption and who knows? maybe he will get his suffix "III" yet.

Richard Lambert, Glenn Hubbard and Katie

Well, yes, and here we are at Friday again. As my receptionist points out: "Thank God for that." Sonnet and I attend last night's Columbia Business School Fall Gala at The Lanesborough. This year's honoree is Richard Lambert, the Director General of the Confederation of British Industrialists; Richard also edited the Financial Times Lex column in the 1970s, becoming financial editor in 1979 then moved to New York in '82 as the Bureau Chief, returning to the UK a year later as deputy editor. He was the editor of the Financial Times from 1991 and launched the US version of the newspaper. From 2003-'06 he was a member of the Bank of England’s Monetary Policy Committee and now the CBI. So his views on the world kinda timely. He gives us a blast of it too: "Britain's worst conditions since the monetary collapse of 1914;" "consumer debt levels disproportionate to income;" "deficits unsustainable" and so on and so forth. Blimey. He does give some hope noting a global coordinated response may prevent us from returning to the stone age. So we are happy about the G-20 meeting in Washington, D.C. this week end to discuss the prospects for a global coordinated regulation (I think (hope?) el Presidente will serve the coffee and croissants). The gala attracts 120 alum+Dean Glenn Hubbard who I swap thoughts re the elections - Glenn is an arch conservative and was on the short-list to run the Federal Reserve post-Greenspan. Obama was, ahem, probably not his first choice. Still Glenn is gracious and positive as ever while we also discuss the MBA prospects - it may be a tough jobs market but applications are up 40% this year. Surprise, surprise - where do you go if your out of work? Business school! FYI I jump started the Columbia Business School club in '01 and am quite happy to no longer be responsible for it.

"I don't see it as women needing help - I see it as public debate needing women. Half of the smartest minds in our nation our female."
Katie in The Huffington Poste

Blimey

Rod Stewart still going at 63 years - in this instance wife Penny Lancaster wearing her skin-tight shiny trousers and five-inch platform shoes exiting Cipriani's in Mayfair (photo from the Daily Mail). I crossed paths with the rocker on the Queen's Jubulee in '02 when Stewart played Buckingham Palace; the following morning I see him exiting Starbucks on St John's Wood high street. In the back of the car my two screaming kids while on his arm Penny who, truth-be-known, I notice first. Hard not to, really. Ah yes, how different our lives then and now. Cementing the point: last night's three hour PTA where we re-cap Guy Fawkes fireworks, discuss the new kitchen costs now >£143,000, anticipate the Christmas Fair, gossip and so on and so on. The PTA remains the power-centre of the neighborhood but boy does everybody weigh in with theirs. New member Mark joins me, making it two against twenty women. He wisely keeps his trap shut. The gang consumes >10 bottles of wine which is not bad for a Wednesday night - I bet Rod would be proud.

At home late night I welcome a program on the Silk Road which details our trip into the Karakorums. The strip in the Hunza Valley, where we were for several nights, is the steepest terrain on the planet climbing 20,000 feet in six kilolmetres. I am motivated to pull out and scan my photographs which I will try to do next week.

From Rod Stewart's famous pop song "Do Ya Think I'm Sexy" (a rather sweet conclusion, I add):
"They wake at dawn 'cause all the birds are singing
Two total strangers but that ain't what they're thinking
Outside it's cold, misty and it's raining
They got each other, neither one's complaining
He says I'm sorry but I'm out of milk and coffee
Never mind, sugar, we can watch the early movie "

"Too many good docs are getting out of the business. To many OB-GYNs aren't able to practice their love with women all across the country."
W., Poplar Bluff, Mo., Sept. 6, 2004

Playground

I drop the kiddos at yoga allowing us a quick game of tag! you're it! before I head into the park for a morning walk. Sonnet is in France staying at a castle where she checks out some hats - owner 42, gay and inherited. Otherwise it is a pretty quiet day. I await a final closing for my friends in San Francisco; read a few chapters of the Three Musketeers (fabulous); sort some supervised volunteer work for Eitan and Madeleine at an old-folks home (unclear if insurance will allow us). Blog. I will pack up my flippers and head to the Hampton pool to swim some laps and work on my technique and then this evening, the PTA. Strange existence away from the Pacific - I would never have imagined - but then, who ever can?

"I'm the master of low expectations."
W., aboard Air Force One, June 4, 2003

'Zines And Credit

Eitan checks out "Match Of The Day," a football rag that he scours for data like how many touches Burbatov had v Wigan or who is closest to relegation in the Premier League. He whoops for joy when he sees Manchester United moving up the rankings (now a healthy fourth). He also subscribes to a monthly Man-U fanzine and checks out the sports pages every morning though sadly the International Herald Tribune is pretty week here. Then of course there are his trading cards which he painstakingly organises in card-files by team, position, skill and so forth. The real gluttony is the Sundays which offer page upon page of league coverage including full colored spreads of the boy's favorite stars in action - you know, kicking a ball. He gets all riled up when Madeleine mixes football facts or I trash-talk him about his club. It is pretty hard for me to resist, really.

Well, at 10:15AM GMT it was called: Britain is officially in a recession. There are now 1.8 million out of work, a figure expected to rise to two million by Christmas. Ho. Ho. Ho. In response, Brown will lower taxes, including the nasty 17.5% VAT, in a temporary measure to stimulate us (he concedes that increased rates will have to compensate when we are out of the recession so net-net I lose). "Negative equity" has been replaced by "under-water mortgage" and we scratch our heads over NINJA loans: no income, no job, no assets. Home-owners don't closely follow their property value unless they are moving or somebody else getting a deal - which is exactly what may happen with mortgage assistance programs which will soon be on offer here. Oh boy. The evil-doers are clearly the sub-prime brokers who aggressively peddled their wares to lower-income households knowing full-well the additional debt damaging. Next up are the credit-card companies who are now jacking up late penalties and rates indiscriminately. Leeches.

"Beautiful credit! The foundation of modern society. Who shall say that this is not the golden age of mutual trust, of unlimited reliance upon human promises? That is a peculiar condition of society which enables a whole nation to instantly recognize point and meaning in the familiar newspaper anecdote, which puts into the mouth of a distinguished speculator in lands and mines this remark: 'I wasn't worth a cent two years ago, and now I owe two millions of dollars.'
"
Mark Twain, The Gilded Age

Medals And A California Top Ten

Eitan shows me his medals from Sunday. Despite his success, he is a modest soul - I wonder if this will change? He has plenty of confidence in the pool, pitch and classroom.

Here are the Top Ten things I miss about California:

1. October and November weather, which is God's gift to God's country

2. Big Sur and the Ocean Pacific. I can't surf but I sure as shit know how to boogey board. One day I will stand up

3. Highway 1, which atom-for-atom matches against any geography I have experienced excluding Pakistan's Karakorum Highway which wins hands down

4. Being able to say things like "dude" and "rad" and "bro"

5. The Golden Gate Bridge. During my marathoning I once jogged across the bridge to see the sunrise over a fog-covered San Francisco. The tallest buildings barely poked through while the East Bay mostly buried

6. Chez Panisse and Peet's coffee - both in Berkeley - WTF?

7. Cal Bears football. No Rose Bowl since '58. Maybe never in my lifetime. Giving myself 40 years I would say 50-50 odds

8. Nimitz trail in Tilden Park. I remember flying kites here as a youngster. Now perfect for running with rolling hills, vast reservoirs and marked miles

9. Never having to question my liberal credentials

10. Peace, baby