Happy Faces

Julia And Arnaud

Arnaud and Julia's wedding at Château de la Napoule, an historical landmark whose gardens listed by the French Ministry of Culture as "among the Notable gardens of France." I do not doubt it. A warm sun sets over the lingering blue sky as vows exchanged (NB: the fellow above not Arnaud).

Arnaud and I have known each other five years meeting through work and seeing each other in France (Arnaud a vrai Parissiane) or London socially - once, famously, consuming four martinis each at the Lanesborough - but this for another story. Arnaud at Adams Street, one of the most successful private equity fund investors in the world; he became their youngest partner when promoted at 33.

This is Arnaud - in dark suit w/ jacket -->

S. France

Sonnet dries her nails in Cannes.

We are to Arnaud and Julia's wedding which is on the Côte d'Azur, the French Riviera, covering 560 miles of coastline and one of the first modern resort areas in ze world. It began in the 18th-century as a winter health resort for the British upper classes daring beyond Bath; with the railway came the British, Russian, and other playboys and aristocrats like Queen Victoria and King Edward VII; in summer, the Rothschilds took over the place then came the artists: Picasso, Matisse, Edith Wharton, Somerset Maugham and Aldous Huxley who came to tan themselves. In '46, the film festival and '57 - Bond.

Cannes, where we stay, is a crowded busy spot with low brow next to high-end : on seemingly back-end streets there is a .. Gucci store next to .. Dolce & Gabbana. Fat dudes stroll the promenade, sans shirt, smoking cigars. Red Ferraris everywhere, bunched before the Grand Hotel so famous in the post cards. But it is the yachts, Dear Reader, that catch thine' eye : enormous, ostentatious, idle - birthed at sea for everyone and me to oggle : so big the smaller yachts must service them. At night their parties and disco dancing cast a halo along the flat water, otherwise still, surrounded by the glorious hillsides.

KGB

I have lunch at Terminus, outside the train station, and snap this guy who I am pretty sure is a spy. I am here for meetings then back to London on the evening train.

Eitan returns from the Isle of White and Sonnet and I will miss him until Sunday as we are off to the South of France for our 58th wedding.

Isle Of White

Eitan on the Isle of Wight with chums Luke and Ariane - pictures from the school website. Otherwise, no word. The kids are alright.

Madeleine, over my shoulder: "So. Jealous."

Rusty bites on a squeaky toy animal.

Me: "You know, he likes that because it mimics a dying animal."

Madeleine: "Not true."

Me: "True."

Madeleine: "Prove it."

Me: "How?"

Madeleine: "Look it up on the Internet."

Me, reading: " 'One theory on why dogs like squeaky toys is the nature of the squeak. In the wild, an injured prey animal would emit similar squeaks and cries, thereby revealing its position and condition. The noise generated by a rubber or plush variation on a prey animal can be just as satisfying to a dog.'"

Madeleine: "See, that's just a theory, Dad."

Gaggle

I observe three girls at the Munich airport (Sonnet has nothing to do with my photographs). They seem to be on their way to university as others on the plane wear Oxford sweatshirts. Most interesting is the body language which changes like the wind : excited, focused, defensive, nervous . . not easy being a teen-ager nor being in the bubble; and soon we will have our own. Something to think about for tomorrow. White trousers arrives late and disrupts the dynamic of two : there is now a competition for attention's center.

Madeleine: "Why do people shrink when they get older?"

Pumps

Sonnet and I decide to play hooky and here we are, buying .. shoes. She checks out some LK Bennetts. Sonnet: "they're alright. Upscale but not too upscale." I have learned not to render an opinion on these things. Instead, I sit on a lounge chair and make faces at a baby deserted by her mother. It's all good until the kid starts screaming and I am surrounded by six women and the sales clerk who drill into me with their eyes . What did I do ? From there we stroll along the Richmond High Street - more shoes! More clothes ! and then to Madeleine, who finishes football and needs a ride to swimming. Who is the passenger in this journey, I wonder ?

"I did not have three thousand pairs of shoes, I had one thousand and sixty."
--Imelda Marcos

Bon Voyage

Etan away Monday morning to the Isle of Wight for five days . Road trip, dude. We check, and double-check, the gear. His class+five adults picked up by coach at the school entrance. Also joining is Head Teacher Mr X who, I note , "a very brave man." X has heard my joke many, and many, times before : there is always one smart-ass dad on the playground and if you do not know who it is, well, it's you. So Eitan has no problem at the drop off - in fact, he happily joins his gang and gives me a sheepish hug and off he goes. One step closer to the exit, I tell a few of the choked up mums.

Me: "Miss your brother, Madeleine?"

Madeleine: "Is that a serious question ?"

Madeleine douses an omelet in ketchup.

Madeleine: "See, you can put ketchup on everything."

Me: "Yeah?"

Madeleine: "Eggs. Pizza. Pasta. Chicken, Fish, Salmon. Pretzels. Rice, burgers."

Aneta: "Fish . . "

Madeleine: "Toast, bagels, steak . .."

Aneta: "Potatoes . "

Madeleine: "Crackers."

Me: "Crackers?"

Madeleine: "Yes, Dad."

Aneta: "You can put ketchup on everything."

Me:

Mr Cool

<-- Chas

Chas and I go way back to College Pro Painters where I owned the Providence RI franchise and Chas the Production Manager (Eric being the "labour"). Some of my best stories from that era : like the time Chas and I took a 32' ladder and broke into a dude's second-floor apartment to retrieve papers he was using to .. blackmail me. But that is for another time, Dear Reader. Chas's reptilian nature meant he was cool under pressure - nothing bothered him : damaged property ? No problemo. Stolen equipment ? We'll deal with it. Over budget on the job ? You're fired. I often wonder if Chas, Eric, Roger and I will come together and start a company but I think it is ever less likely as we have settled into different cities, routines and lives.

I walk in the door following the red eye (Sonnet goes straight to work): "Hey, guys - I'm home!"

Eitan, Madeleine: "Dad! "

Me: "Did everybody do their chores?"

Madeleine: "See, Dad, you are here for five minutes and already you have to ruin it."

Me: "Well, did you?"

Eitan: "Yes. Well, sort of."

Me: "I don't see 'checks' by the jobs you were supposed to do."

Madeleine: "That's because it was raining."

Me: "How about the stuff inside?"

Madeleine: "The cleaner is coming."

Me: "Wrong answer."

Madeleine: "You can't expect us to do everything can you?"

Me: "How about if you just do what's on the list?"

Madeleine:

Me: "You are not leaving this house until you vacuum the living room."

Madeleine: "You mean I don't have to go to school?"

Me: "You are not watching television until you vacuum the living room."

Madeleine: "That is so unfair!"

r = e ^sinØ - 2cos (4Ø ) + sin^5 (2Ø -π/ 24)

Eric and Simona and the cake.

The title equation from the wedding invitation - it creates a "butterfly curve" which, Eric explains, suggests the butterflies he and Simona experienced on their first date.

Sonnet and I spend the evening talking to Bill, who heads the legendary math department at the Univ. of Arizona. Bill has an unkempt beard greying on the sides - I think of Paul Allen @ Microsoft for some reason. Nita and Alain worked with Bill and his partner Debs, also in the house, before moving to Oxford so Alain could run the Oxford Centre for Collaborative Applied Mathematics. I steer clear of anything with numbers. Instead we are pragmatic : how to perfect the martini. And the best place to drink them. Bill did a 3 year sabbatical inParis and we compare notes - he hopes to return but for now his kids at AU - "never say never," he winks.

Wizards And Corbusier

Ben and I hang out for a bit - as much as he will let me, anyways : him being 16 and me , like, impossibly old. Ben is a strikingly good looking kid who is easy to photograph. He has also maxed-out on math classes at the Harvard Extension School and now contemplates theotrical maths for next year. Ben turned me on to a few good science fiction writers like Orson Scott Card whose Ender's Game I enjoyed then passed on to Eitan. Now he suggests Terry Pratchett, Gene Wolf and George RR Martin. And Harry Potter? I ask. Ben notes "structural flaws in the writing" and, besides, "Wizards are all, like, dicks."

The Carpenter Center behind Ben BTW is the only building actually built by Le Corbusier in the United States. Sonnet and I visited Villa Savoye at Poissy-sur-Seine in France, pre-kids, and enjoyed a picnic on the green grass.

Katie adds: "The carpenter center is the art building, where I spent most of my time, on my major and thesis. The code to the building lock for years was 451, the temperature at which paper burns. The center was notoriously horrible temperature wise, for its purpose - always way too cold in winter (because of the structure it was hard to heat), so all the art students fingers froze, and poorly ventilated and thus hot in summer. "

Eric Gets Hitched

Sonnet and I to Eric's wedding in Cambridge. I arrive Friday and Sonnet several days earlier to speak at the Costume Society's annual conference in Boston. I get my first glimpse of the bride, Simona, at dinner and am pleased, very pleased, that Simona is everything Eric says and more. They are, like, totally all over each other, too, which puts me and everybody in a festive mood. Love is in the air. Sonnet and I dance to great '80s beats before turning in at a reasonable 7AM GMT.

We are BTW at the Harvard Faculty Club which, conveniently enough, is where the ceremony and reception take place. The HFC a cozy brownstone surrounded by leafy trees in the middle of the Harvurd campus. There are imposing portraits hanging from the galleries; when I ask about the building I am handed a two-side, densely typed, narrative which does not get read, saving you, dear reader, the potted history of the place.

For many of us, Eric's wedding anticipated since July '10 when he and Simona met. I know Eric to be enthusiastic when it comes to spring love and watching him navigate the perils of true love, well, a harrowing experience for all involved. He, and Simona - and I - come through it and, now, joy.

Kate Bush

I am interested in Kate Bush, pictured, from the www, because of her '80s look - all that - and music, which I have grown to appreciate only recently. Bush is Britain's most successful solo female performer of the past 30 years who, at age 16, was discovered by Pink Floyd's David Gilmour and picked up by EMI. In 1978, at age 19, she topped the UK Singles Chart for four weeks with her debut single "Wuthering Heights," becoming the 1st woman to have a UK #1 with a self-written song. Many of Bush's songs have a melodramatic emotional and musical surrealism that defies easy categorisation (says me). She has influenced many of my favorites including Wild Beasts and Goldfrapp.

"The less you know about home computers, the more you'll want the new IBM PS/2."

--Edmonton Journal, 1987

Jeff+Rusty

The dog worth his weight in middle-age therapy sessions.

Sonnet away to Boston, leaving this morning, where she will speak at a conference.

We walk the dog after dinner.

Me: "Come on, Madeleine, I am tired of asking you to walk Rusty."

Madeleine: "Can I get an ice cream at the ice cream truck?"

Me: "Sure!"

Madeleine: "Really?! Wow, Dad, that is so nice!"

Me: "In fact, why not two?"

Madeleine: "Are you serious? Really? You have never done anything like that before!"

Me: "Pssst. Three!"

Madeleine: "The ice cream truck isn't even there, is it Dad?"

Me: "Well, let's go find out. Now get the leash."

Madeleine grapples with relativity.

Me: "There's Jenny."

Madeleine: "Who's that?"

Me: "Jenny. She used to be Jackson's nanny - you know her."

Madeleine: "Well, that was like two years ago."

Me: "Yeah, so?"

Madeleine: "Well, for you that is like nothing but for me, it is almost my whole life."

Me: "What's your point?"

Madeleine: "I don't know."

Self Portrait XVIII

Me trying to look like Don Draper. Katie points out that I need a cigarette.

Madeleine: "I met a new friend in art yard. His name is Hudson, like the river."

Me: "Cool name."

Madeleine: "Yeah. He's on crutches though."

Me: "Why's that ?"

Madeleine: "I think it's because blood is not going to his ribs or something."

Me:

Madeleine: "We played dominoes."

Me: "Thank goodness the strain didn't kill him."

Madeleine: "Oh Dad."

The Vaccines

Christian sends me this photo from the Vaccines concert at a small club in San Fran -- in the UK, they are coming up off a first album that hits.

Smooch

Katie sends a smooch from the Upper West Side.

I take the kids to their tutor Stephanie and have an hour free-time with each. Eitan and I go jogging along the Thames, starting around the Putney peers, which is a treat for me to have his companionship. The boy is a good runner, too. Afterwards, Madeleine and I head for Waitrose so she can talk me into buying her some "Strawberry string" (yuk). I give her one pound and tell her : "go for it." Sonnet works late on her next majah expo : Italian fashion, which is up for approval later this month.

Madeleine, out of the blue: "Dad would you have your wedding at the Putney Pool?"

Madeleine at Waitrose: "Look, Dad, the Jelly Beans Eitan got."

Me :

Madeleine: "And here it's 80p and he paid six pounds."

Me: "Sounds like a bad deal for him."

Madeleine: "Can I buy some?"

Me: "If it's less than £1, sure."

Madeleine: "Look at this one. It is one pound and 1p."

Me: "Mmmm"

Madeleine: "Can I have one p?"

Me: "Nope."

Madeleine: "You are so cruel, Dad."

Madeleine: "You're the math guy and mum's the literacy girl."

Madeleine: "Are you going to be a butcher?

Me: "Um. ."

Madeleine: "Didn't you say you were going to learn how to be a butcher so you can cut up a cow?"

Me: "Right, good memory - I was thinking about a class for that earlier this year but I don't think I am going to do it."

Madeleine: "Good because I don't want you to bring home a dead animal."

Silvio Undone ?

Last week Il Cavaliere lost Milano, something unheard of for his PDL party and not inside 20 years. And let us remind ourselves of the final straw:

In November 2010, teenage Moroccan belly dancer and alleged prostitute Karima El Mahroug (better known as "Ruby Rubacuori") claimed to have been given $10,000 by Berlusconi at parties at his private villas. The girl told prosecutors in Milan that these events were like orgies where Berlusconi and 20 young women performed an African-style ritual known as the "bunga bunga" in the nude. It was also found out that, on 27 May 2010, El Mahroug had been arrested for theft by the Milan police but (being still a minor) she was directed to a shelter for juvenile offenders. However, following two telephone calls by Berlusconi to the police authorities (in which, in particular, he falsely indicated that El Mahroug was a close relative of President Hosni Mubarak of Egypt), the young woman was released and entrusted to the care of PDL regional counselor (and Berlusconi's personal dental hygienist) Nicole Minetti. The investigation of Berlusconi for extortion and child prostitution regarding Karima El Mahroug has been referred to as "Rubygate". MP Gaetano Pecorella proposed to lower the age of majority in Italy to solve the case.

Source : New Yorker and The Times

Stephan And Barbara Get Married

The Catholic ceremony in German and so I tell the groom congratulations, noting that I have no idea if they are actually got married.

The Shakespeares with Aneta. I leave them a page of chores and a stern address: done by my return. Or else. To ensure compliance, each completed item to be "checked" with a thick, black, marker. Just like my banking days.

Leeberghof

The post-ceremony reception located in the mountains overlooking the lake and Tegernsee. Photo from a private dining room next to the dining hall.

Stephan and Martin

Stephan on his wedding morning. Martin, supplying the booze, the Best Man. I have known Stephan from '03 when we met by work and friends ever since. He began his career shifting €millions for Swiss Re then Horizon21; he is now with a pe advisory firm in Mayfair.

So we meet John first : John at Proctor & Gamble selling "chemical products" which I think means hair and beauty products. He tells me of his time in Cincinnati which amuses him as much as me. No doubt, a lot of drinking involved. His girlfriend, Alex, at the Gagosian which is London's most important art gallery. Then James in Manhattan who started a nuts business now in 600 stores across the Big Apple. James's wife in Singapore trying a case for the United Nations, where she works "with a smile on her face" , James tells us (before that, she was at the fearsome Latham & Watkins Law). Esther, from Scotland, had to change her honors thesis on the Middle East thanks to the Second Intifada in '00, which forced her to re-write several chapters ("it could have waited a year" she says); more recently Esther trekked across Iran and before that, investing money for one of the world's richest men. Ryan flies in from Portland, Oregon, where he is @ WebMD and Magnus, from Singapore. I don't know what Magnus does but he reminds me of The Matrix. Martin received his PhD from St Andrews and adds a further quiet elegance to the group.

Tegernsee

Sonnet and I depart T5 on Friday for Bavaria, pictured, and Stephan and Barbara's nuptials. I have not been to Tegernsee which is 50 km south of Munich and a gateway into the Alps which tower, layered, before us. A drive would eventually go from our 700 ft sea-level to the Jungfrau in Switzerland at 4,158 m. Austria not far away either.

Upon arrival in Munich, we catch a train from Munich Central on the BOB to our destination - Seehotel Luitpold on the lake - with just enough time to change for an Oktoberfest themed get-togteher at Gebirgsschutzenhutte in the mountain forests. The suggested attire "Lederhosen" but I demure - in fact, no way, Dear Reader, am I getting into leather knee-length breeches and Timberland boots. I draw my age-appropriate limits at tapered jeans and Converse "All Stars."

It is a loud, raucous, and happy evening which Stephan begins by tapping the keg. And off we go.

"If a playwright tried to see eye to eye with everybody, he would get the worst case of strabismus since Hannibal lost an eye trying to count his nineteen elephants during a snowstorm crossing the Alps."

--James Thurber

Wimbledon Club

Martin, as you may recall, our neighbor who was born in the house he lives in and remembers The Evacuation during the Great W. His mother, Kiddee Godfree, won Wimbledon a couple times in the '20s so Martin a Wimbledon member and, since this is quite a thing, I wonder : how I can become one, too?

So the club has 375 "full members," (including Martin, Martin tells me) and about 100 temporary playing members and a number of honorary guys like past Wimbledon singles champions (not doubles - too dilutive). In order to join, an applicant must obtain "letters of support" from 4 existing full members, two of whom must have known the applicant for at least 3 years. The name then added to the Candidates' List. And then you wait, Martin says smiling, "30, 40 or 50 years. "

Photo of a streaker during a match between Maria Sharapova and Elena Dementiva in 2006. They probably chucked the dude in The Tower.

Another Day, Another Sunset

Ah, the spring of '11. Memorable. I now expect the morning sun which is when it gets dangerous.

Thames at Putney.

Yo, Groceries

The last time I saw John, pictured, he was the finance director for a friend's family business. Now he is the CFO of Sainsburys, the UK''s 3rd largest grocery with over 900 stores (16% mkt share) and 150,000 employees turning £20 B sales earning shareholders £710 M in 2010. Yesterday's market cap : £6,339 M. Not too shabby. John perfect for the role, too - neither showy nor overly enthusiastic. He instills confidence and .. calm. Let the CEO do all the drama and John Davan does just that - Davan viewed as one of those "celebrity CEOs". Sort of like a celebrity chef. But together they get the job done son nobody's complaining.

Photo from Sainsburys.com

US house prices down 33%. This worse than the decline during the Great Depression.

Par

Par Ardvisson from Sweden, pictured - my idol in 7th-8th grade. Ardvisson won the 100 m butterfly at the 1980 Moscow Olympics having set the world record two months earlier in Austin, Texas. He held the record 12 months until broken by American William Paulus who swam 53.81 vs. Arvidsson's 54.15 (Phelps went 49.82 in August '09). Between 1976 and 1983 Ardvisson was Swedish champion 22X and held the Swedish record in the 200 butterfly until 2008. Holy catfish. After graduating UC Berkeley he went to HBS and now business somewhere.

Madeleine and I walk the dog. Madeleine: "Why do people shave their pubic hair?"

Me: "Um . . ."

Madeleine: "I mean like swimmers. And bicyclist. Why do they do that ?"

Me: "Oh, well, it makes swimmers go faster and I guess cyclist feel different, like, smooth or something. When they shave their legs."

Madeleine: "Yeah. I wonder what it's like."

Me: "It is kind of silly, really. One day you will shave your legs every day. Just like I shave my face."

Madeleine: "That's a lot of work, isn't it Dad?"

Me: "Yep."

Madeleine: "Do you have to do it?"

Me: "Shave?"

Madeleine: "Grow up."

Me: "What do you think Auntie Katie does?"

Madeleine: "Does?"

Me: "Yeah. During the day. For work."

Madeleine: "Op Ed Project."

Me: "More, please."

Madeleine: "Well, first she sleeps in. Then she gets up and goes to her office. And talks on the phone and works on her computer and stuff."

Me: "That's pretty good. Do you think she works late at night?"

Madeleine: "Yes. She's a night owl. Like me."

Me: "Yep."

Madeleine: "And she's a movie star."

Jelly Beans

One more from bank holiday Monday, this time outside Harrods in Knightsbridge. There is a moment, before lunch, without a plan. This the best part of the day.

Pieter Hugo

We visit the V&A's "Figures & Fictions, Contemporary South African Photography" yesterday. Pieter Hugo's image, pictured, from "The Hyena and Other Men" series extraordinary - "it represents one of the travelling sellers of traditional medicines from Nigeria who tame hyenas for street performances" (the guide tells us).

Hugo born in '76 and began his career as a photojournalist.

Carlie Gidman / LinkedIn IPO

2004 photo of diver Carlie Gidman by Anderson & Low benefitting the Elton John AIDS Foundation. Gidman competed in the Sydney Olympics. Since, she has been a "Senior Account Manager" for a number of Aussie companies including GAS, Q Ltd, and 3D Interactive. From November '10, she chucked all that and now backpacks the world, returning to Sydney in 2012. Good on her. Source: LinkedIn.

So... LinkedIn . . becomes the first social media company to list, which it does 19 May. LinkedIn priced $45 a share by Morgan Stanley, Bank of America, Merrill Lynch and JP Morgan Chase , raising $352 M. Trading's first-day sees the stock hit $92 suggesting the underwriters mis-priced the deal. And why care? Founders rich and vc's happy etc. &c. But consider : most IPOs enjoy a modest 15% bump post IPO, according to Richard Green at Carnegie Mellon. LinkedIn could have raised more money instead of giving it away to day-traders. The company paid 5% of the offering to i banks, afterall - cannot LinkedIn expect a minimum professional expertise ?

And here is the further rub : LinkedIn's IPO created hundreds of millions of dollars for special clients of the banks, who receive allotments of pre-IPO stock . I was gifted these shares back in the day (not enough, never enough) and it is, indeed, a risk-free participation in a hot listing. What's a little dilution among friends ?

The i banks argue that tech cos. difficult to value given the early-ish nature of these businesses but this is their job, to price fairly, and build a book. If Wall Street wants to keep SV it needs to get real. Google took shares strait to the public and I think more similar ballsy moves to come. Hope so.

South Ken

We head to Chinatown for dim sum and pig out on all sorts of things I cannot recall. Chinese food, dude. Madeleine wants chicken's feet (which I reject) since I dared the kids to try it a couple years ago now they think it is some kind of delicacy. I think the Chinese are even, like,woa, somebody ordered that shit.

But anyways, here we are, giving each other the Obama rock over our meal , gluttons that we are. After that it is South Kensington and a coffee bar for Dad (pictured) then the V&A where I let the children run the center courtyard+fountain unencumbered.

How lucky Sonnet and I are to share these glorious precious personalities right on the edge of change. We are well aware the teenage years at the next corner and the spirit sooner, still. I dance around subjects which mortify Eitan while Madeleine keen ; better left no surprises nor confusions and I ask Sonnet : What will you divulge of yours? Average age of menstruation in the USA, I read in USA Today, ten-years, seven months. 15% of girls begin puberty age-8. Me, I can't wait for what they become.

Escalator Underground

These kiddos are cool cats, pictured. Did you know under-11s free on the tube? First time I've gotten anything for free in this city.

Madeleine has suggested hints of interest in Justin Bieber and who can blame her? I come down hard on Eitan's snarky remarks "Everybody hates him" and so fair enough. To the boy's credit he can name 3 Bieber songs. Yet it is Madeleine's decision to check out the tweenie heart-throb so I happily buy her Bieber's CD @ HMV Picadilly. I further get on Eitan's case as the boy refuses to visit the impressionists @ the National Gallery choosing, instead, to sit on a bench. Madeleine's mind open , at least, to Bieber and the finest paintings on offer anywhere. My opinion. She and I see van Gogh's "Sunflowers", Monet's "Lilly Pads" and Pissaro's "Paris Street in Winter." I promise to keep the tour to three only but slip in another handful. We walk hand-to-hand through the crowds - mainly, you see, to pull me along.

Me: "There is a reason people from all over the world come here, the National Gallery, to see the paintings."

Eitan: "Yeah well they are boring."

Me: "You haven't even checked them out. How do you know?"

Eitan: "We studied them in school"

Me: "You should appreciate these treasures are right in front of you and for free, for Pete's sake."

Madeleine: "Yeah, Eitan, for Pete's sake."

Eitan: "It's not my fault that I don't find them interesting."

Me: "Well too bad for you."

Madeleine: "Yeah too bad for you."

Me: "Thank you Madeleine but I've got it covered."

Madeleine: "Can I go to the gift shop now?"

Harrods Food Hall

Bank holiday Monday. I drop Sonnet at the V&A, where I park the car, and begin my day with the Shakespeares. All mine. Sonnet prepares for a lecture tomorrow evening then ball gowns and Italy - her next major exhibition which she presents to the museum's Exhibitions Committee in June; the EC headed by new Director Martin Roth who replaces Mark Jones after ten-years. Roth the former Director General of the Dresden state art collections for the past 10-years and Italy will be his first Major expo. Sonnet feels that, word.

The kids want to go to Harrods - specifically, the food hall - double specifically the confectionery hall, pictured. They have been here before, oh boy, and like missiles with a homing system they drage me along. We spend an hour milling around looking at various bon bons, chocolates, jelly beans and so on and so forth. Eitan and Madeleine have some fire-power, too : about seven weeks of unpaid allowance @ £5 a week and believe you me they know the score. Eitan buys himself a double chocolate chip cookie ("oo ooh this is sooo good") and Madeleine goes for a couple of those giant sucker-sticks. All this before 11AM. Off to a good start.

Madeleine: "How much is that water-melon thing?" (sugar glazed water-melon slice in melange of similar sugaries)

Salesclerk: "Why hello there. That one is about six pounds."

Madeleine: "Well, how much is that one. The cherry."

Salesclerk to me: "It is by the weight you know."

Me:

Salesclerk: "It is 58p"

Madeleine to me quietly: "Sheesh, Dad, that is an expensive treat."

Me: "You would barely taste it, I bet."

Madeleine: "For that much money? It would be, like, the best cherry I've ever eaten."

Me: "Hope so."

Madeleine: "Know so."

Good, Cod!

Madeleine prepares dinner." I am making baked cod with prosciutto and vegetables and fish kabobs. This is the first proper meal that I have done without help."

I have football coming out my ears. It begins last night with ManU vs. Barcelona in the UEFA Cup Finals which the Red Devils lose 3-1 failing to avenge their 2-nil defeat in '09 that Eitan and I watched at a bar in Greenwich Village, the boy exiting in sobs and me worried about the social services taking us in. This morning, we are at the Carshalton Athletic Tournament (think England, 1960s, blue-collar) where KPR plays five eight-minute games qualifying for the knock-out round where they lose in Round One. Bummer. We then dart across Surrey to Chessington for the Pro-Directory Elite Academy Tournament and another 8 games on astro-turf. Fast and furious. This followed by awards and recognitions and etc. &c. At some point I excuse myself from the sidelines to sit in the car to listen to Radio 4 and fall asleep - who knows how long ?

Rusty eats a half-bag of dog food and Aneta returns home, 4AM, to find him laid out on the kitchen floor requiring four bowls of water. Probably saved his life. Sonnet reports that today he "shits like a sausage factory."

"Woof woof woof woof." [Translation: I feel like hell.]

--Rusty

"Always start out with a larger pot than what you think you need."

--Julia Child

Thames Facing Barnes

I watch the sun set over the river from the Fulham football stadium, 7:50PM. We and the kids join about 50 neighborhood friends from Madeleine's football group to watch the women's UEFA Cup Championship between Potsdam, GD, and Lyonnais, FR. Craven Cottage, which holds 26,000 maximum, is maybe 2/3's full. Comp this to Saturday's men's final at Wembley Stadium which seats 80,000 : tickets on the open-market no less than £5 grand. Though under appreciated, it is an exciting match that the French win 2-nil. It is worth noting that, despite equally physical play, there is no winging, whining or diving which is prevalent in the men's game (and why most Americans think soccer players wimps); these chicas get on with business. Madeleine and Eitan happy to be with their friends eating (totally gross) burgers and (inedible) hot dogs. Me, I am glad to be sitting next to Sonnet and no rain. One hour ago - hail.

Only In London

Update : My beautiful tomato stalks -->

I meet with a Russian hedge-fund manager (age: 28) connected to a number of the Oligarchs, and his business partner from Dubai, who aim to provide an alternative to Russia's degrading electricy network, which (I learn) over 80% depreciated. From there it's lobster sandwiches at Sotheby's with Jan, my Dutch pal, who is responsible for one of Europe's largest family office investment programs. Then to James who is moving Conde Nast's 118 publications into the digital era (he being C N's youngest Board Member). We discuss how, so. Najib sends me a proposal on a consumer finance play (Najib formerly CEO of GE Credit).

Eitan sits next to me working the Apple. I have resisted this moment for years - I figure the kids will spend their lives hunched over a screen - but now his interest there. And what sparks it? you may ask. Music. He wants it on his ipod.

Push

Madeleine finds use for a garden tool.

Me: "How was school?"

Madeleine: "I dunno."

Me: "Two words. Well done."

Eitan: "Actually it was four."

Madeleine: "I know, I will use 13 words to describe school today and Eitan will use 15. "

Me: "Don't hurt yourself."

Madeleine: "School was very very very very very very very very very very boring."

Me:

Madeleine: "Eitan's turn."

Eitan: "Today I went to school. At school I sat at my desk. At my desk I read a book."

Me: "Boy I feel like I was right there with you."

Eitan: "Did you count how many words I used?"

Me: "Hmm can you count the words in 'no dessert'? I count two."

Madeleine: "You are so mean. That is four. I win again."

Me:

Got Kids ?

Think $14.3 T bad? Here is something to consider:

Federal government spending has 2X'd since 2001 to levels unprecedented in the post-WW2 era. In fact, the Congressional Budget Office predicts that the official debt (excluding the unfunded liability of Social Security, Medicare and Medicaid) will exceed 100% of GDP by 2025 and could exceed 180% of GDP by 2035.

Further : the vast majority of future debt driven neither by defense nor discretionary but rather entitlement programs - SS, Medicare and Medicaid - will, by 2050, consume every penny that Uncle Sam raises in taxes. This means, Dear Reader, that everything else the government does, from domestic programs to national defense, including paying interest on the Fed debt, will have to be paid through .. more debt. Raising taxes ain't enough - we could confiscate 100% of the assets of Americans earning $1 M or more (the top 1% btw account for over 95% of tax-dollars) and this covers maybe 1/9 of CBO forecasted 2050 obligations (source : Michael Tanner, Cato Institute) . Barely a dent. As the full burden of entitlements kick in, the US govt will consume over 40% of GDP by the middle of the century.

Now entitlements, unlike the publicly held debt or inter-government transfers, are implicit obligations and not legally binding contracts so, in theory, we can change them .. like moving the retirement age to 69 over 75 years. Oops, tried that. Or index benies to price inflation instead of national wage growth. Doh. Or how about private SS accounts? Drat! shot down by the Democrats.

I have every faith in America to side step calamity but I have less faith in our politicians to do so.

Trapped

In my skin. Sometimes it feels this way.

So despite the gloom and doom and blah blah, private equity has cashed in a record amount of dough : the value of companies sold by pe firms worldwide reached $85 B since April (data from Preqin) - this exceeds the record deal volume of Q4 2010 when the industry sold out of 325 companies worth $81.3 B. Give or take. The exits driven by European deals, mostly, and the re-emergence of strategic buyouts which bought most of the bigger assets that were up for sale. Exhibit 1. Takeda Phama of Japan buys Nycomed from Noric Capital for $14 B. Exhibit 2. Microsoft buys Skype from Silver Lake for $8.5 B. So what gives ?

Well, firstly, a combo of factors like a greater availability of debt financing and cash-rich strategic buyers. But consider this : most private equity firms avoided fundraising after the collapse of Lehman Bros in '08 since few traditional fund owners had appetite or cash for new commitments. Now managers see their mgmt fees decline after the typical 5-year investment period when they are paid full freight. These guys need to show investors that they can make money if they wish a shot at another partnership. + more fees. And so the exits.

The next five years will see a clearing out of middling managers unable to raise more money. There is already an industry overhang of $500 B of capital ion Europe alone which of course hurts returns. Only the strongest franchises and freaks will survive.

Brother's In The House

President Obama arrives in London from Dublin, 12 hours ahead of schedule, as the skies cover with volcanic ash. Same as it ever was. Here Obama reacts to Irish Prime Minister Enda Kenny's gift of a "Hurley stick" . Obama tells Kenny that the U.S. and Ireland share a "blood link" that extends beyond strategic interests or foreign policy into the hearts of the millions of Irish Americans who still see a homeland here. 40 million in the US call themselves "Irish American" which is interesting as Ireland's population less than 6 million.. and shrinking given Ireland wrecked its economy requiring a bailout by the Germans and yours, truly, a British tax-payer. But let us not dwell on that. Today it is about the Dutch and Dutches of Cambridge then the Queen. Photo from AP.

"A hurley (or camán) is a wooden stick used to hit a sliotar (leather ball) in the Irish sport of hurling. It measures between 70 and 100 cm (28 to 40 inches) long with a flattened, curved end (called the bas) which provides the striking surface. It is also used in camogie, the female equivalent sport."

--Wikipedia

Any Night Out

Me: "So what do young people wear to the bars these days?"

Aneta: "Young people?"

Me: "Yeah, like the boys. What do they wear?"

Aneta: "There are men. And there are boys. The men wear suits."

Me: "What do the boys wear?"

Aneta: "I don't know. Maybe jeans I think."

Me: "And what do the girls wear? Dresses?"

Eitan, backseat: "Dad!"

Aneta: "They no wear dresses. It more like shirt. Over bottom."

Eitan: "A mini skirt!"

Aneta: "I see no skirt. And high heals - they walk not so well. And lots of make up."

Me: "And how about drinking? Do they drink too much?"

Aneta: "Oh, yes, it horrible. They lie in the street."

Me: "They do?"

Aneta: "Yes, the girls lie in the street. Sometimes boys too. It horrible"

Me:

Woody Guthrie

Today is Bob Dylan's 70th - we all know that - so I celebrate his music by listening to folk-singer and political whisperer Woody Guthrie, pictured. Guthrie's music from the first half of the last-century but his influence on the second-half why he is remembered today. Guthrie's musical legacy includes hundreds of political, traditional and children's songs and ballads - most famously, "This Land Is My Land Is Your Land." He frequently performed with the slogan "This Machine Kills Fascists" displayed on his guitar. As Cornel would say, "A Berkeley brother." Dylan was listening.

"You can either go to the church of your choice
Or you can go to Brooklyn State Hospital
You'll find God in the church of your choice
You'll find Woody Guthrie in Brooklyn State Hospital

"And though it's only my opinion
I may be right or wrong
You'll find them both
In the Grand Canyon
At sundown"

--Boby Dylan, "Last Thoughts On Woody Guthrie"

Dad Wigs Out

Sunday. Sonnet off to the museum to research ball room gowns or Italian fashion. I am with the Shakespeares and a bit on the rough w/ the crew I confess, pictured. 

Maybe it is because my day starts with Rusty breaking his lead and bounding across the Upper Richmond Road, which is also the A205 and also the "ring road" , for the Cafe Nero to terrorise staff and customers. I race into Nero to see the dog jumping up and down frantically trying to sink his teeth into an almond croissant. An audience watches me beat the pooch down and drag him yipping onto the sidewalk (Madeleine: "Maybe I will go home now"). Or maybe it is because I have not had coffee this week-end. 

Either way, I find my excuses to Lay Down The Law and show the little monsters who is master of them. I make the kids draft a chores sheet, which Eitan re-writes 2X and Madeleine 3X (He, grudgingly, she despairingly, respectively). They sign and date the document which I counter-sign - it goes on the inside kitchen cupboard next to the dog-pledge. 10-hup!

Sonnet walks in the door as I hear fighting : "Get out of my room!" (Madeleine); "Well then give me my book!" (Eitan). Must .. . show . patience. Must.. not strangle. them.. as . they are. little people . ..