Hulk #169

Lovin it.

I am not ashamed to report that I stayed up late reading The Incredible Hulk, including this gem, "The Calamity In The Clouds," where Hulk battles the Bi-Beast in a hidden city above Manhattan. Brilliant.

Remarkably on pg. 19 I discover a 'Marvel Comics Survey' which I filled out, age 10.  I mark "basketball' as my sport and, for free time, check "watch TV" and "Read a comic magazine" (of course). Seeing my scratchy hand-writing at that age, wow.

The advertisements are as fun as the plot: who can forget Clark Bars (now owned by Hershey) or Sea Monkeys or get rich quick schemes like 'drafting kits' ("High pay job in drafting!") and the body building.

I am taken right back to the first year at 1530 Euclid Ave, when I snuck away in the walk-in wardrobe in my room with Hulk, Spider Man, The Human Fly and other friends for an afternoon of freedom. I still remember the smell of our house when we moved in.

I revisit my comic collection thanks to Madeleine. We share a love of the art.

Love

Glass cutter, SW London

Eitan's favorite bands (in no particular order) :
The Kooks
London Grammar
Bastille
Arctic Monkeys
The Vaccines
Passion Pit
Cold Play
The American Authors
The Gorrillaz

Me: "How about Justin Bieber?"
Eitan:
Me: "Do you listen to a lot of music?"
Eitan: "Yeah, quite a lot."
Me: "And how do you share music with your friends?"
Eitan: "We don't really share music. Most people like pop music, anyway, but I don't like the electronics and stuff.  I don't like the 'crappy pop music' as you might say."
Me: "I'm glad some of my training is sinking in."
Eitan: "It's not training Dad."

Monkeys

Museum Natural History via Katie

Sometimes we all feel like the dude behind Madeleine.

Glasvegas

Morgan and I check out Glasvegas at the Forum in Kentish Town. Awesome photograph of Caroline McKay by Jon Behm. Glasvegas does Indie rock and has a weird, intense and violent energy - perhaps because they are from the East End of Glasgow? Or maybe guitarist Rab Allen enormous and dwarfs his instrument. His brother and lead-singer, James, wears a white sleeveless sequined outfit - and jams. Behind them, "GLASVEGAS" , spelled in large bulbs, flashes. Glasvegas got critical acclaim for their debut album Glasvegas , released in 2008, reaching No. 2 in the UK Album Charts. Their debut album also nominated for the Mercury Music Prize in 2009. The NME declared, "If The Libertines defined the start of the decade and Arctic Monkeys its middle, then Glasvegas are almost certainly going to define its end and beyond."

After the concert I get a Gyro at Clapham Junction, taxi ride home and a bowl of strawberry ice cream, Rusty on my lap and television until 3AM (the ends of "Aliens" and "The Matrix"). Pretty much perfect.

Artic Monkeys - Berlin - Teacher Review

Christian sends me this pic from last night at the Fox Oakland - a great venue where we recently saw The Decemberists.  Unfortunately, the band now popular enough to play the big venues so I decline to see them at Wembley Arena in November as they tour the UK. Still, their energy and spirit true and the recent third album "Humbug", while not a classic like "Whatever You Say I Am, I'm Not" and "Favourite Worst Nightmare," is good.  We have several good shows coming up this autumn including St Etienne, Automatic Toxic Event and my most anticipated: The White Lies.  Now they rock (daps to CW for introducing me to them).

I soon depart solo for Berlin and the marathon, which takes place Sunday.  Along with my running sneakers, space-designed socks and sweat-whisking, breathable-fibre tank-top and shorts, I will pack aspirin, sports gel, electrolyte hydration, cereal, sun-tan lotion, Vaurnet sunglasses, vassaline and Peet's coffee, whose caffeine content may trip doping alarms.  My secret weapon.  So more on Berlin from Berlin.

The Shakepeare's review their new teachers following the first week of school. Eitan gives a thumb's up, while Madeleine sideways.  I ask why her dissatisfaction? and she shrugs: "homework."

Paul And Flippers

We spend the day with Paul and Camilla kicking around Richmond and catching up. 

Paul, I am happy to say, gives a nod to The Kooks which we saw together last year. We also saw the Arctic Monkeys for my 40th but I think he enjoyed them less. So this morning I head for the Hampton Pool by Bushy Park after dropping off the kids at school (Madeleine and I have a rousing game of tag until I slip on the concrete and bruise my knee. Game over). 

Hampton Pool is, unusually, outdoors and 36 meters - I mean, WTF? I'm not complaining as it is also one of the few neighborhood pools to allow flippers so I can really haul ass. In fact, using fins has changed my stroke which is now longer with greater stretching and "bounce" to catch water - these changes have stuck without the rubber kicks. My problem usually is the other lap-swimmers who I have to navigate to everybody's irritation. Today while doing a flip-turn I clocked a fellow in the head - I gave my utmost apologies but really it was his fault for hogging the lane. Yes, I admit, part of me wants to scream at some of these people. Kind of like road-rage, I think, so not particularly healthy. 

After I complete my marathoning year I anticipate joining a Masters club which should ease up on the lap-swimmers. Watching Eitan inspires me and in many ways, I think I am a better freestyler today than yester-year when logging ten-miles a day. I also enjoy it a lot more too - any surprise since it is no longer a chore? Middle age has its benefits indeed.

On Envy

I change my monkey-photo to Planet Of The Apes. These apes got along afterall.

Monkeys, one observes, are happy to be rewarded for their work with cucumber slices unless one of the group receives grapes. Then they get snarky and no longer do the work. It turns out that envy, or the 6th deadly sin and probably the least acknowledged, is passed along via evolution. More, reports the NYT, the vibe's unpleasant sensation equal to its opposite or schadenfreude - seeing your rival stumble. This measured by brain activity. I read this BTW awaiting Katie's doctor appointment and wonder about the past eight-years: Americans (and Brits), driven to keep up with the Joneses, did stupid things like buy unaffordable houses or Humvees. 


 It's too easy to call these people assholes (and many are) but our system's deep inequalities, accelerated during Bush and hyper-visible in our mythology (90210! Baywatch! The Sopranos!) have turned many citizens into twitching miseries (very different, mind you, than the more socially tolerable jealousy). Personally I have seen MBAs making $millions hateful of their status because it ain't more. 


 Of course envy is not an American phenomenon - in Nairobi I met seven Kenyon runners under 2:15 for the marathon and several unhappy about not making the elite squad. Yet those Africans work together and their comparisons did not seem corrosive. The runners happy to be blessed, alive and... running. Pretty simple. So today Barack signs the stim-u-lator and we will see how the country manages its schadenfreude.

Madeleine and Eitan at the age when they compare everything. It generally effects their happiness - for instance, the other night Madeleine thought Eitan's ice cream more and she could not enjoy her desert. Brother. As a parent, it is my job to cut this off somehow at the quick so it does not dog them the rest of their lives. Oh boy, seen and done that before.

Peaches Is In Trouble!

The irrepressible "model" and daughter of Sir Bob Geldorf, Peaches, caught on camera buying £190 of coke, noting "I'm going to need Valium tomorrow after this." The video secretly-shot as part of Scotland Yard's investigation into drugs to young stars. Peaches is 19 but a star? Because this is Britain: 1. Peaches now everywhere on Fleet Street and 2. she will avoid jail time. Britain and drugs - a real problem and the last twelve months has seen some heavy partying: video footage of singer Amy Winehouse smoking crack at a party; Kate Moss on film shoveling cocaine up her nose; Pete Doherty and heroine. The fuck-up that is Peaches is made worse given her mother Paula Yates died from a heroin overdose in 2000 at 41 .

It is not just the stars either: a cover-line story in today's Daily Mail shames a British couple on holiday in Portugal who drank themselves into a stupor in front of their children. Police were called Friday night after bank manager Eamon McGuckin found passed out in a hotel reception. Mrs. McGuckin vomited in front of their crying kids and then collapsed. Notes a Mail source: "this couple are devoted to their children and would never do anything to harm them...." I mean, who are these people?

Britain, we all know, is a topped up nation and Super Gee's 24-hour liquor has - ding! ding! - increased alcohol consumption across the isle. We are now the worst binge drinkers in Europe and a nasty little trend is teenage girls, who are the fastest rising drinks consumers.

I do recall one Sunday early-morning train ride to Oxford upon arriving in England and watching a group of seven or eight boys stack pints of bitter, read porn mags and screech like monkeys - us passengers, while aghast, helpless to act. Now, ten years later, it is the ladettes causing equal trouble. I personally do not care if someone as stupid as Peaches Geldorf or Kate Moss toss it all away but I do care if my kids one day view them as role models. It also bothers me that these yobs break the drugs-laws then walk scot free. Our society pays for it somehow, no doubt there. Good God! In my older-age, am I becoming a Tory?! or worse... a Republican?!

"A video? What video? Fuck off, I don't want to know." "Fuck off, fuck off, fuck off, fuck off! Just fuck off!"
--Kate Moss, when asked about the video of her snorting cocaine

Zoo

I take the monkeys to the London Zoo on a lovely bank holiday - the first in like ten years. We drive northwest to our old stomping grounds Regents Park and Primrose Hill and surprise! no parking, just like old times. Undaunted we end up in nearby St John's Wood and I don't mind the walk though the kids complain - oh, sweet hardship. The zoo BTW is the world's oldest scientific zoo and was opened on in 1828. It was originally intended to be used as a collection for scientific study, I learn from a grounds person. It was opened to the public in 1847. Today it houses a collection of 704 species of animals, with 16,802 individuals, making it one of the largest collections in the U.K. (I learn from their website). Physically the zoo is a wonder nestled inside Regents Park with an underground connecting the zoo's outer perimeter to the inner otherwise separated by the Regents canal and the Outer Circle road (got that?). Our favorites are the gorillas (remarkable), giraffes (walk-up observatory), reptiles (vipers and poisons) and of course the lions, who chill out in the 70-degree weather. Just like the Ngorongoro crater, I am sure. From the zoo we go to Primrose Hill, spread a linen blanket and play footie or do nothing before home - the kids strip for the car ride. Tonight: pizza and a movie. Perfect.

In their own words:
"Is there anything that will interest me here?" Eitan asks by the Lion's den

"That one is riding on top of the other's back." Eitan by the Llamas

"Daddy it is so cute!" Madeleine on the naked, eyeless, mole rat

"I wouldn't want to be in that garden." Madeleine seeing the hissing cockroaches

"Lookit - that one has big lips." Madeleine on a sea anemone

When I tell the kids "I've had it - no ice cream" if they say it again, Eitan spells out ice cream

"I am dying for an ice cream. I've been waiting for hours!" Madeleine just won't give it up

Madeleine sees a feeder in the vulture cage: "why can't we go in there?"

In the reptiles den I ask Eitan why it might be an advantage to have cold blood. He begins: "Imagine if you were in a jacuzzi...."

Me to Madeleine: "The only thing I want is for your to be happy."
Madeleine to me: "I would be even happier if you just went away."

We make animal sounds on the car drive home

Hot Chip

Sonnet and I meet in Brixton to see Hot Chip, pictured, at the Academy. Beforehand, we have dinner at a family-style Portuguese restaurant complete with an old television showing Italian football and, surprisingly, Portuguese people. There's a real hustle-bustle with children running around the bar, a few tables with young couples smooching and the old timers drinking their whatevers watching the scene contentedly. Perfect. As for Hot Chip, the show goes on at 1130PM and is well worth a lost night's sleep (oh I suffer now). Hot Chip is from south London and plays techno-pop disco with quirky addictive songs using strange instruments and computer monotones. The lead singer is slight and nerdy, which ads to their geekiness. The sold-out crowd loves the vibe, as do we, and the noise from them and us is deafening. Sonnet prefers opera and again proves a trooper for humoring me - our last gig together was the Chemical Brothers when she told me flat that I had better find a music buddy. Christian, who introduced me to the Artic Monkeys and Hot Chip, is that guy but in California. Most dads in our neighborhood would never consider a live act and too bad for them.

Paul

Here's Paul at the Arctic Monkeys (this week we saw the Fray at the Hammersmith Apollo with Tilly and Eric for a Big Tuesday night out). Eitan asks for an Arsenal, Liverpool or a ManU kit for football practice (but not England as "I have two of them" plus, I might add, England will most likely miss the '08 European Cup. It's a wing and a prayer 21 November against Croatia and other stars must align). It's Saturday morning so Sonnet runs and the kids write letters to Auntie Katie, who has laryngitis. Eitan bangs out the NYC address with pride and Madeleine scribbles some letters which make sense to her. Madeleine tells me: "poor Katie- I never knew anybody who got laryngitis." Natasha gives Madeleine a stuffed dog who looks like Disney's "The Shaggy DA" - she names him 'Stella.

Summer UK

My faithful five: apologies for being offline for the past week. I write from Le Veta, Colorado, in the Colorado Rockies. But more on this later.
This photo taken in Brighton-By-Sea, where I return with the kids last week. We lucked out with good weather as the summer has otherwise been the wettest in 75 years. Flash-flooding across England has left 1,000s without water, electricity and home. The worst towns are where the Thames and Severn Rivers meet, unable to absorb the hillside run-off. Earlier this month we saw Sheffield, home of the Arctic Monkeys, washed out. But back to us: Brighton was once the seaside town for which these Brits pined before modern travel whisked the wealthy (and now the pint drinking, cigarette smoking) set to Southern European locals setting in motion the the second British colonisation: low-cost, beach-front condominiums. God bless the herd mentality of this people. Our day otherwise is unspoiled following a train-ride from Clapham Junction to Brighton station. We enjoy the rocks, eat greasy chips and vinegar and check out the boardwalk. A fun day spent while Sonnet prepares for the summer Bon Voyage.

Monkeys!

Paul and Lorena join us in Cardiff to see the Arctic Monkeys thanks to Christian Wright, who supplies us tickets God Bless Him to the sold-out concert. The Monkeys are a Sheffield phenom whose second album recently put 17 tracks in the Billboard Top 100 - the Beatles did not do that. The performance arena feels like a high school gym and is jammed with young people milling about drinking beer and smoking fags. The lads have perfectly mussed hair and stripy shirts while the girls are tarty- average age must be 22 or same as the band. The music is loud, fast and thumping and there is a crush towards the center stage when it starts. Sonnet and I dance wildly, looking at our youth.

Pineapple

Madeleine is up before Eitan and chomps some fruit. Eitan rolls downstairs rubbing the sleep from his eyes and the kids discuss the fact that Madeleine up before he. Eitan plays the Arctic Monkeys and blasts away - until Sonnet beseeches him to turn down the "noise." We wink at each other - damn the neighbors.

Wilco

Sonnet and I see Wilco at the Shepard's Bush Empire last night (this the venue were The Who and Oasis first performed). The band is excellent and play super-intense alt-country tunes - nothing similar to current faves The Kooks or Arctic Monkeys. Lead singer Jeff Tweedy uses six or seven instruments but Nels Cline steals the show with his electric guitar that he pounds mercilessly for three hours. The audience and band have a love-in and Sonnet and I enjoy the music. My photo from a mobile.

Sonnet turns a year and we celebrate her birthday. The kids make a mural buy taping 12 blank pieces of typing paper than spend the morning colouring and gluing.

Monkeys

Eitan and I listen to our favorite Sheffield Brit-band Arctic Monkeys. In '05 we grooved to their debut and Internet phenomena "Whatever You Say I Am, I'm Not" from '05 and are equally happy with today's "Favorite Worst Nightmare." The Monkeys crest the Brit-pop wave which includes The Kooks, Hardfi, Maximo Park with heavy midlands accents and ripping guitar, along with a fast pace and snappy beat. UnlikePublish the others, ours keep their edgy garage sound and troubled cul-de-sac youth.

Fly

Christian Wright was a bit disappointed about my last blog of him, taken in a pub in London where we watched the World Cup together (England v Trinidad-Tobago. We won.). Now, caught in his natural habitat in San Franciso, on his way to dinner at Delfina with me where he knows the waitresses who love him, the kid is living large. Christian is an Executive Director at CIBC World Markets, where he has been since '95 making the Big Bucks. Regardless of his cash flow, our boy has retained his Berkeley roots and remains a champion of liberal causes (he was a cheer-leader and fundraiser for the New York Democratic party when we there together from 1995-97). We now exchange enthusiasms about English football (ok, soccer) and Cal football (er, American football). We get worked up about this stuff. A similar taste in music is also fun - favorites today include the Arctic Monkeys, The Kooks, Razorlite and most acts with an edgy guitar and British twang.