Marathon Day

Four Kenyons at the Embankment

In an always inspiring London Marathon, Kenya's Eliud Kipchoge (white T) wins the men's race in 2.04.42 from Wilson Kipsang (2.04.47, second from right) clocking a 4:33 mile 25 to open the race open. Both men are wonderful ambassadors for the sport, Wilson noting his delight for his friend Eliud's victory and satisfaction with his own race; Eliud thanking the spectators for seeing him through the last miles. Everybody a winer today. (My photo from the TV)

Ethiopia's Tigust Tufa wins the women's race in 2.23.32, sprinting to the endline. 

Paula Radcliffe runs her last marathon, age 42, in 2:36.55. I remember watching her set the World Record of 2:15.25 in London in 2003. Her record may stand another ten or 15 years, one of the greatest athletic performances of our era. Unfortunately Radcliffe does not get the credit she deserves as one of Britain's greatest athletes of all time given her Olympic disappointments, which dragged the country along with her. She is a national treasure.

Four British men under 2:20. Scott Overall the fastest Brit taking 13th place with a time of 2:12.

Me: "What do you think of the marathon?"
Madeleine: "It looks incredibly painful. Hard. And long."
Me: "Yep."

Tomato Time

Madeleine tills the soil

Every year in early April or so I start in on my tomatoes. This springtime no different only my seeds are German, purchased during Eitan's football camp in Bitburg (I've already killed the tadpoles). Maybe I'll feed them beer and Sauerkraut dressed in Dirndles and Lederhosen with Krafwerk and Rammstein playing in the background.

I've been told to brush the stalks with my hand as it strengthens them for the outdoors and they like the human touch.

I drive Madeleine, Willoughby and Jake home Friday, 10:30PM.  It's a good crew and I keep quiet as the trio chat away about people, candy, school and other things of equal importance. There is a lot of giggling and laughter.

Madeleine: "Do you like cream soda?"
Me: "Cream soda?"
Madeleine: "Yeah, cream soda. Do you like it?"
Me: "I'm not sure, I guess so. I can't remember the last time I had a cream soda. I think it's a Midwest thing." 
Madeleine: "Yeah."
Me: "Why do you ask?"
Madeleine: "Just curious."

ST P

St Paul's Cathedral

I join about 80 Columbia Business School alum at the London Stock Exchange to honor Massimo Tosato '80, Executive Vice Chairman of Schroders. I have known him as a friend for 12 years whom I met when I was President of the business school's London club from 2002-04. Massimo a worthy recipient of recognition who brings charm and style to the evening.

The London Stock Exchange located in Paternoster Square next to the St Paul's Cathedral. When we arrived in London it was still a bombed out neighborhood which couldn't fill its leases. Now it is a smart part of town, owned by Mitsubishi Estate, who have redeveloped it to sparkle yet now without any charm. Lots of young men in ties and women with heels. It was more interesting the old way but that's progress.

Gallipoli Remembered

131,000 died in the doomed campaign.

The Gallipoli campaign in World War I took place on the Gallipoli peninsula, Turkey, in the Ottoman Empire from April 1915 to January 1916. We mark the 100 year remembrance. 

The peninsula forms the northern bank of the Dardanelles, a straight that provided a sea route to the Russian Empire, one of the Allied powers during the war. Intending to secure it, Russia's allies Britain and France launched a naval attack followed by an amphibius landing on the peninsula, with the aim of capturing the Ottoman capital of Constantinople (Istanbul). It failed disastrously.

The campaign was one of the greatest Ottoman victories during the war. In Turkey, it is regarded as a defining moment in the nation's history : a final surge in the defence of the motherland as the Ottoman Empire crumbled. 

The struggle formed the basis for the Turkish War of independence and the declaration of the Republic of Turkey eight years later under Mustafa Kemal Ataturk, who first rose to prominence as a commander at Gallipoli. 

The campaign is often considered as marking the birth of national consciousness in Australia and New Zealand.

(source: Wiki and others)

Homework, Dude

Plugged in

Madeleine, on her initiative during the half-term break, organises Marcus and together they head for South Kensington, on their own, then a kick around Hyde Park. Sonnet learns of their adventure post pacto.

It makes me think of lazy weekend mornings, age 11 or 12, walking across the UC campus on a lazy summer morning, nothing to do but jingle a few coins in my pocket, hit the comic book stores  (two of them) on Telegraph then a slice at Blondie's pizza washed down by a coke and maybe a candy bar on the walk home.

We host a BBQ on a sunny Saturday afternoon - 20 friends+three dogs - followed by a walk in Richmond Park. Catch as catch can.

MLK

Eitan works on a school project during the half-term break. He has chosen Martin Luther King and the project meant to relate to MLK's beliefs on non-violence. Eitan says, "Um, the five topics I'm covering are a summary of his life, the way that he resisted oppression in the United States, his beliefs on non violence, how religion shaped his beliefs. And an opinion on him."

I'm impressed by Eitan's presentation which includes quotes, facts, photographs and his thinking on the man and those times.  It seems in line with what I did in college.

"MLK was an independent thinker. I thought it impressive how he was a leader at such a young age. His speeches affected everyone. He had a really big impact on his era. His legacy is huge."
--Eitan

Photo from Biography.com

The Last Lion

Churchill in Paris

Like many young men in America, I went through a serious Second World War interest and read Churchill's six volumes over the course of 1992-94 (Moe read them in one month, he once told me). The drama reads better than fiction and, while I won't go into detail on this blog, my general knowledge on the war, held idle for so long, revitalised in Normandy and having a captive audience, poor kids.

Another epic read from that period was William Manchester's 'The Last Lion: Winston Spencer Churchill', a three volume trilogy covering Churchill's life from the early days ("Visions of Glory, 1874-1932"), to his political isolation and triumphant return ("Alone, 1932-1940") and finally the master-work to never be, "Defender of the Realm, 1940-1965" which Manchester unable to complete prior to his death, at 82, in 2004, leaving tens of thousands of loyal readers on the edge of their seat awaiting the final victorious turn of events that sealed the world's future.

Madeleine's time of 2:31.57 yesterday's 800 puts her in the UK Top 100 ranking for girls 15 and under.

Race Day

600 of 800

We spend the day, a glorious one at that, in Wimbledon Park as Eitan and Madeleine compete in the Hercules Wimbledon Young Athletes track meet, the first racing of the outdoor season.

Eitan goes for the 1500, clocking a 4:47, placing him 7th in the U15s.

Madeleine competes the 800 and takes off like a rocket, forcing her heat to go with her. At the 3/4 point it is a close back and forth until both gals nipped by the outside lane, who passes them on the final 20m, our gal taking 3rd. She runs a gutsy race.

I change into a running shirt in front of some spectators.
Eitan: "Oh my God, Dad. Do you have to do that?"
Me: "Do what?"
Eitan: "Do you have to change here, in front of everybody?"
Me: "How about if I practise my break-dancing ?"
Eitan:
Me: "Definitely. Check this move out."
Eitan:
Me: "Well, off for my run now."

Klára Departs

Klára

Klára has been part of our family for the last 12 months or so and now she has moved on to the next thing: her own flat, working at one of London's cool restaurants Yauatcha.

I recover from New York with a five mile loop in Richmond Park including 2 miles at race pace against an equally paced runner; we nod at each other as we separate (me, holding it together). I then sleep the better half of Saturday, waking to a brilliant afternoon late sunset, dog walk and family dinner. What more could I wish?

The 79th Masters golf tournament televised from Augustus. I could care less but curious to see all the white people watching the old white men trying to put a little white ball into a small white hole.

Romeo And A Pair Ducks

Romeo Gili

Romeo Gili's velvet menswear ensemble ca. 1990 on display in Portland, Oregon, as part of the Glamour of Italian Fashion. One of my favorites.

From the V&A staff web noticeboard (filed under 'Only In Britain'):

"A number of colleagues have been in touch with both the Visitor Experience and Security teams to notify us of the pair of ducks who have been spending a lot of time in the Museum Garden recently. We have discovered that the female duck has laid two eggs, and have sought advice from the RSPB as to what steps we should be taking.

"Due to the legal protection ducks and their nests receive in all parts of the UK, we are legally obliged to not interfere with the birds and their eggs, so please do not be tempted to chase away the ducks or move the eggs. The RSPB have advised that if the breeding pair have decided to nest here we should leave them alone, and that they expect that if the family is successful they would expect them to leave the Museum quite quickly to find a larger body of water.

"We will be putting barriers up in the area, and ask that any colleagues passing through the garden are aware of the situation.

Head of Visitor Experience

"

Ammonite

Ca 200 million years old

Madeleine finds an ammonite on a Normandy beach, now on her windowsill next to a crab claw and a few rocks.

Originating from within the bacritoid nautiloids, the ammonoid cephalopods first appeared in the Devonian (circa 400 million years ago) and became extinct at the close of the Cretaceous along with the dinosaurs. The classification of ammonoids is based in part on the ornamentation and structure of the septa comprising their shells' gas chambers. While nearly all nautiloids show gently curving sutures, the ammonoid suture line (the intersection of the septum with the outer shell) is variably folded, forming saddles (or peaks) and lobes (or valleys). Source: Wiki.

Upper East Side

57 and Park

Thierry and I have nine meetings in 2.5 days.  Efficient describes it. Exhausting, too. I'm up at 4AM and on the treadmill by 4:30 with all the other poor slobs as jet lagged as me. There is some camaraderie, I suppose, but mainly we just work off the stress of the time zone. More interestingly, Thierry and I go to Le Marais on 46th St, a Kosher steak house, famous to the Jewish community. No reservations so we wait 45 minutes for a table and worth it.

Katie joins us for a drink at the Four Seasons then we have dinner afterwards. It's great to have a sister in New York and one as cool as her. Do note the 80s gold disco jacket.

Eitan: "Can we go to 'Pickle and Rye?" [Dad's note: Pickle and Rye a sandwich shop in Mortlake, near the train station]

Me: "Do you have any money?"

Eitan: "I have a couple of pounds."

Me: "And you used to be the one who was the saver. Now it is Madeleine who is stowing away her dough." [Dad's note #2: Madeleine is saving her money to buy a plane ticket to America, possibly one-way]

Madeleine: "I don't 'stowe' money. I save it."

Me: "Isn't that the same thing?"

Madeleine: "Stowing sounds like hiding."

Me: "Makes sense."

Eric En Route

With Normandy a distant memory and on my way to Manhattan, I re route to Boston for a late meeting with the Mass state pension plan (ca. $80bn under mgmt).  I leave the kids with instructions to water the front yard and sweep out the back. There is resistance.

Incredibly it snows in Boston - a storm, it seems, that has not abated since my last time on the East Coast. A record winter for snow. The mood is .. claustrophobic.

Eric is free for lunch and we catch up on work, kids and life. An excellent unanticipated bonus. Eric's work office comprises of a number of jerry-rigged computers that serve as his coding palette, filled with language as foreign to me as Sanskrit. He has a standing work station surrounded by books, a few bones, a chalkboard with more software script and other various nick-nacks that capture my interest. Today he is testing his work before it goes live and, he notes, 'buggy.'

Side Road

Madeleine: "Can I have a sip of your wine?"
Me: "Sure."
Madeleine drinks a half a glass of wine in one go.
Me: "Madeleine!"
Madeleine, giggling: "What?"
Me: "Did I tell you about the first time I got drunk?"
Eitan: "Was that the time with the vodka?"
Me: "It was after league championships. Kristen, Jana and I went to Hillside Park with a bottle of Champagne."
Madeleine: "How old were you?"
Me: "16. I'd never really had alcohol before. A bottle of Champagne didn't really do anything so we went to Jana's house and got a bottle of vodka."
Madeleine: "So you are saying you stole a bottle of vodka?"
Me: "When I got home I was like, 'hi Mom and Dad, I'm home' then went into my bedroom. Everything started spinning around."
Madeleine: "Were you dizzy? From all that drinking?"
Me: "It's the worst feeling in the world. Just awful."
Eitan: "Did you get sick?"
Me: "I barely made it to the bathroom. Then Moe and Grace came in, they couldn't believe it. Katie thought it was hilarious though."
Madeleine: "Did you get into trouble?"
Me: "No. As parents, you expect your kids to do something stupid now and then. Like what I did."
Eitan, Madeleine:
Me: "Just don't do it twice."

Reading Room

'sup?

I surprise the kids - they're reading! - but in fairness they have been disciplined about their revisions and each day put in a couple hours of work though here it is for pleasure: Madeleine "Roots" and Eitan "The Two Of Us."

This morning Madeleine and I power-walk in the fresh countryside air. We pass by two 30-foot long stone ramps equally separated with blocks every seven feet or so. Eitan puzzles on it for several days but Madeleine gets it right away: a ramp to raise a car or tractor so the mechanic can work underneath.

We've been sleeping until 10AM with lunch around 3PM or 4PM. Since the sun sets at 9PM, our days have been thoroughly thrown off kilter. We are loving it.

Tomorrow back to London.

Passover Run

I go for a 13 or 14 mile run, something I haven't done in ages, and it feels great.  The first 30 minutes achy and stiff but then the old body warms up and I cruise along the seaside feeling like a million bucks. Or 17 (much more valuable).

Madeleine cranks away on her religious studies : "I'm doing stuff about Jesus, and the Old Testament and the New Testament. And the Pharisees (Me: Who are the Pharisees? Madeleine: "I have no idea. That's why I'm revising").

I chop off the chicken's head. Sonnet: "Don't tell Madeleine."
Me:
Sonnet: "We don't need a vegetarian in our house."

Bayeux Tapestry

Morningtime. Sonnet and Madeleine go for a 5 mile run

We take a break from the Second World War to visit the Bayeux Tapestries.  Madeleine explains:

"The tapestry describes the Battle of Hastings in 1066. King Edward (of England) was going to die, and so he told he nephew Harold to make peace with William, Duke of Normandy. Harold set out to Normandy to pledge his loyalty but ended up in Picardy and was taken hostage by Guy (Count du Ponthieu). Then William arrives, there's a small fight between William and the Picardy people, and William frees Harold. Harold then swears his allegiance to William should Edward die.

"Harold goes back to England and King Edward dies. Then Harold becomes King and breaks his promise with William. In England, people see Haley's comment and get nervous. William gets really really mad, and starts building boats. He puts armour, horses, swords, supplies and people onto the boats and sales to England.

"The men and horses get off the boats and the battle between William Duke of Normandy and King Harold begins.

"It is a 14 hour long battle and the first few hours many people die on both sides. Before the end of the battle, William's soldiers think he is dead. But William is not dead and he lifts up his visor to rally his troops.  Then an arrow, shot by one of William's archers, hits King Harold in the eye and he is killed.

"The battle finishes and William's name is changed from 'William The Bastard' to 'William The Conqueror.' "

Crisbecq Battery

 Battery

The Crisbecq Battery, constructed by the Germans near Saint-Marcouf in the north-east of the Cotentin peninsula and jogging distance from where we are staying. The battery formed a part of the German Atlantic Wall coastal fortifications overseen by Rommel who had concluded by 1943 that Germany's Blitzkreig was no longer potent and that a strike on Normandy inevitable. He turned his attention to defense.

The main armament were three Czech 21 cm Kanone 39 canons, two of which were housed in the casemates (pictured). The Battery, with a range of 17–21 miles, could cover the beaches between Saint-Vast-la-Hougue and Point du Hoc, ie, Utah and Omaha Beaches.

Vista from the canon point

The stretch of land between the battery and Utah beach about 3 kilometres. The Germans flooded this region to make it more difficult for the Allies to advance on Normandy, with five pathways traversing the swamps (the first wave para gliders tasked with securing these routes, as well as taking out the bunker canons). Crisbecq offered a perfect location to target D Day ships. Dawn aerial and naval bombings reduced some of the threat.

In the end, Crisbecq was captured in the morning of 12 June without a fight by the 39th Regiment after the 9th US Infantry landed at Utah Beach. They found it deserted.

Le Hebert

The moat around Le Coeur

From Valognes we drive to St-Martin-Le-Hebert to visit Le Coeur, a sixteenth century manoir fortified by a moat and next to an ancient beautiful church (they are a dime a dozen here).  We lunch at Bricquebec followed by a local art fair.

Last night, at a country estate, we join an unusual group of local French land owners and English eccentrics all who have inherited their wealth. The host, a charming French woman named Sophie, married to a multi-billionaire away on a sailing expedition. There is a lot of wine and spirit. I get the sense these gatherings take place regularly.

The highlight, and reason, for the dinner is Annabel, a soprano trained at the Paris Conservatoire, who performs a selection of arias from Shubert to Mozart in preparation for a concert she will give next weekend to raise money for "the hunt" (in this part of France, the tradition of hunting involves deer rather than fox, as in England).

The evening ends by singing happy-birthday David, one of the guests and a retired British banker, who owns farmland in Malawi, South Africa, California (weirdly, grapefruits) and France. He oversees a local choir in which Anabel occasionally sings.

Sonnet: "That was a night."

An Old Man And His Ducks

Valogne market 

Our six villages take turns hosting a daily market and today we visit Valogne to buy Easter provisions. I chat with the friendly man, pictured, who is selling three ducks which, when asked how they should be prepared, illicits the motion of ringing their necks and stripping their feathers. Then, he says, best served au jus.  He speaks no English. We compare notes on France, my favorite country I tell him, and California and he is aware that there is a severe draught on the West Coast.

Sonnet collects four kinds of cheese, a whole cauliflower, potatoes, one large stripped chicken, two types of clams, four different preserves, bread, croissants, a large brioche and a custard tart picked out greedily by the Shakespeares. Followed by a double espresso at a local cafe. How can this not be a great day?

Rush Hour

Fontenay-sur-mer must have 25 people max including a mayor, who has the one fax machine in town which I need to use, knocking on her door [Digression: nobody uses a fax machine so why does my bank, Coutts no less, require faxed instructions? I email a photo of my fax but they need it faxed.  This is the kind of modern-day-stupidity that makes me nuts. Digression end]

Eitan and I go for a 60 minute jog this morning - he is chipper and a good jogging companion. He has yet to put training into his running, which has always come naturally. That probably won't fly in today's competition.

We have oysters. Me: "You know, Madeleine, oysters are still alive when we eat them."
Madeleine spits out her oyster, ptui! "What? Mom, Dad is joking. Tell me he's joking."
Sonnet: "It could be possible."
Me: "That's how you know they are fresh."
Madeleine: "Animals. You are all animals."

Madeleine: "What would you have named me, if not 'Madeleine'?"
Sonnet: "'Hannah' or 'Abigail.'"
Me: "I like 'Abby Orenstein'. Or 'Ava."
Eitan: "What common British name would you least want me to have?"
Me: "You fuck'n wanker."
Eitan: "Seriously."
Me: "It's the most common name in England. Like, come 'ere you fuck'n wanker."
Sonnet: "You were almost an 'Oscar.'"
Me: "Good thing you're mom was on the case."

Tuck Shop

"Girl On The Train"

Eitan brings his monkey suit to France, good on him. He finishes "Girl On The Train" by Paula Hawkins which is about "a girl who's an alcoholic and has a pretty terrible life and she takes the same train twice a day and can look into all the houses she passes. There's this one couple that reminds her of her ex husband. She creates an imaginary story from what she sees of them and what she thinks is a perfect life. One day she finds out that the women has gone missing, and she tries to get to the bottom of who killed her. She kind of goes into their world, meets the husband, sees the house, and finds out about their past lives. And stuff."

We buy oysters from a seaside shop; Madeleine on the water cage: "That would be a nice place to live."

Sonnet: "Eitan you have such big feet."
Me: "You know what they say about big feet, don't you?"
Eitan:
Madeleine: "Dad!"
Me: "Big feet, big hands."

Madeleine: "Oh, yeah, right Dad. Like that was what you were really going to say."

Me: "What did you think I was going to say? Oh, that Eitan has a big willy?"

Eitan: "Hahaha."

Sonnet: "Don't listen to your father."

We have a discussion about school.

Me: "So what do you guys do when you get hungry?"

Madeleine: "We go to the tuck shop."

Me: "What's the tock shop?"

Madeleine: "The tuck shop. It's where we go to get snacks."

Me: "It's where you go to get sex?"

Madeleine: 

Me: "That's what I thought you said. Look, really, my hearing is going."

Sonnet: "It must be the British accent."

(Madeleine rolls her eyes)

Utah Beach

"The VIIth corps will attack Utah beach the D Day at H-Hour and will storm Cherbourg in a minimum of time."

--Field order number one dated May 28th, 1944

We re visit Utah Beach which is always extraordinary to me, what these men accomplished, and sacrificed. 

"Our landings in the Cherbourg-Havre area have failed to gain a satisfactory foothold and I have withdrawn the troops. My decision to attack at this time and place was based on the best information available. The troops, the air and the Navy did all that bravery and devotion to duty could do. If any blame or fault attaches to the attempt, it is mine alone."

--Notes for an announcement, written by Eisenhower in advance of the Normandy invasion, in case of its failure, but never delivered.

Poor Dead Bastards

OGEFR. HUB. BRIEDENBACH, 8.8.24 + 11.6.44

We visit the German cemetery in La Cambe with its small parking-lot and no visitors. It is striking to see the U20s, and those gravestones marked after June 6, 1944, when a soldier's death would have been meaningless.

La Cambe was originally the site of a battlefield cemetery, established by the US Army Graves Registration Service during the war, where American and German soldiers, sailors and airmen were buried in two adjacent fields.

After the war ended on the continent and parallelling the work to repair the devastation, work began on exhuming the American remains and transferring them in accordance with the wishes of their families. Beginning in 1945, the Americans transferred two-thirds of their fallen from this site back to the United States while the remainder were reinterred at the American Cemetery overlooking Omaha Beach.

Because of the pace of the war, the German war dead in Normandy were scattered over a wide area, many of them buried in isolated field graves - or small battlefield cemeteries. In the years following the war, the German War Graves Commission (Volksbund Deutsche Kriegsgräberfürsorge) sought to establish six main German cemeteries in the Normandy area.

La Cambe covers over 21,000 German dead. 

(Source: Site, edited)

Self Portrait XXXXIII

Madeleine gives me a fake tattoo on my upper arm (she says, "a skull eating a blue rose while thorns are going through the top of its head."
Eitan:  "God you look like such a douchebag."
Me: "Do you even know what a 'douchebag' is?"
Eitan: "Yeah. Everybody does."
Me: "Is that so?"
Eitan: "It's not like it's a bad word or anything." [Dad's note: Eitan has no idea what a 'douchebag' is]
Me: "Let's keep that one in the house."

We visit a small village to look at antiques and paintings (buying a charming bird bath) then the boulengerie, charcouterie and the fromagerie.

Fonteney Sur Mer

Day 1

We pull into a familiar place following a six hour drive and The Chunnel crossing under the English Channel which, I learn, is the largest such vehicle transport in the world. Go figure. The car (over)loaded up with suitcases, electronics and bikes - missing only Rusty who got shipped off to the kennel, poor guy.

Madeleine suggests a car roof and I immediately connect it with the dog. Mitt Romney would approve.

Eitan: "Crepe."

Me: "Crap?"

Eitan: "Hahahaha!"

I Am

Madeleine breaks it down

Madeleine performs in "I AM", a play at the BAC. It is devised theatre that the kids created themselves, addressing kids related issues like self expression, school pressure, gender issues and racial stereotyping. Madeleine does a piece with a schoolmate on parental rules (looking directly at me, second row). She is fabulous. Afterwards Madeliene joins us in the audience to watch a different troupe perform; these kids older and address 17-18 angst throwing in plenty of sexual innuendo and words like 'blow job' and 'vagina', raising Sonnet's eyebrow like Spock.

Eitan's last football match of the season, against Kingstonian Youth, nets a 9-1 victory for the Lions. Eitan puts in the first goal.

Sonnet '96

Digging around in our attic I shuffle through a stack of ancient photographic prints .. well, to New York ca. 1996, anyway. Here is Sonnet, standing out from the rest of all those Manhattan memories.  I sure did something right.

Monkey Business

Eitan goes to a costume party dressed as a monkey. Never again, I tell him, will he be able to complain about me taking him to school in a cow suit. Gracie lives on.

Since it's Saturday, Sonnet and I up early to take the dog for a walk and connect with Karen and Niki doing the same thing with theirs. We swap dog stories which is kind of like baby stories: what the dogs have eaten, their exercise routines and shitting patterns. It sort of makes me uncomfortable.

Madeleine off to rehearsal and tonight is her first of two performances. I ask, 'are you nervous'? and she shrugs it away. Business as unusual.

Eitan stumbles into the kitchen (in his monkey suit, which he wore to bed) and makes a bacon and sausage sandwich.
Me: "How was the party?"
Eitan: "It was OK."
Me: "Did you have any interesting conversations?"
Eitan:
Me: "Oh, right. Sorry. Did you talk to any girls?"
Eitan: "Yeah."
Me: "Are they interesting to you?"
Eitan: "Sort of. I guess."
Me: "Do you go up to them or do they find you ?"
Eitan: "A bit of both."
Me: "I bet."

Paris Morning

River Seine

Friday post. I'm up, 6AM, to power walk the 7e. The sun is shining and springtime almost here.

The Paris streets hum with activity as the delivery agents service the bakeries and cafes, jamming the narrow lanes, chatting (or arguing) with each other. The dog walkers out and the pets crap wherever they wish as the gutters run with water every day. I head by the National Assembly and La Defense with police noticeably present even at this hour (The American Embassy, on Place de la Concorde, a fortress). At the Musée Rodin, a side gate open and I poke my head in to see 'La Porte de l'Enfer'.

I spend my usual good time with Astorg who is moving towards a fundraising this year. It is pregnant with possibility and judging the launch an important consideration.

Kaleidoscope - Shard

The Shard

Sonnet and I join "Kaleidoscope", the Contemporary Art Society's annual fundraising auction at 1 Billings Gate in a marvellous converted space big enough to host the contemporaries and seat 200 people (our friend Veronique is on the Board). Outside : the Thames and the Shard.

How different a place London has become since I worked in The City and jogged along the riverside through 1950s and 60s concrete. Those ancient post-war relics are gone in a heartbeat to make way for the new and modern, steel and glass.

Kaleidoscope's dress code is "colour in motion" which neither I nor Sonnet consider until the day before so I buy a purple and pink paisley tie from Harvey Nics. For the men, I've done more than most. The women arrive in leopard skin or print, lace leggings and yellow shoes. Pink-dyed mink. Sonnet goes with blue and patterns.

I dine next to Louise Wilson, a British artist nominated for the Turner Price in 1999 for her work in video, film and photography.

Eitan prepares himself in the morning.

Me: "What are you up to today?"

Eitan: "I don't know, usual stuff."

Me: "It's a bit difficult being 14, isn't it?"

Eitan: "I guess."

Me: "Having to talk to adults and not really knowing what to say. Feeling something is expected of you."

Eitan: "Yeah."

Me: "I remember that time. But then you get your own stories."

Eitan:

Me: "And you will have plenty."

Date Night

My gal

I dash home, bike a loop of Richmond Park, make a few phone calls then dart out the door to meet Sonnet at the Tate Britain - date night. Following the exhibition we go to our favorite, The River Cafe which, amazingly, has a table for two available, just for us (our first time at the RC was 1997 which stimulates a certain amount of .. reflection).

The kids have an evening home without activities other than homework. A rare thing. I suggest Eitan use the time to read a book (eye roll) or to bed early (open protest). Madeleine needs no urging on either - she puts herself to bed 8:30PM sharp, no fuss about it. Smart kid, she knows the importance of sleep.

On a dull day in the news (thank goodness) the BBC reports that a giant dangerous newt possibly roamed the earth in the dinosaur era. The story in the newsloop.

Nick Waplington / Alexander McQueen Working Process

Sonnet and I join the opening party for Nick Waplington's photography exhibition at the Tate Modern.

"Nick Waplington/ Alexander McQueen: Working Process is the result of a unique collaboration between artist Nick Waplington (born 1965) and the fashion designer Lee Alexander McQueen (1969-2010). Waplington, best known for his photographic work centred on themes of class, identity and conflict, was invited by McQueen to crate a photo book documenting the making of the designer's 2009 Autumn/ Winter women's ready-to-wear collection from start to finish. McQueen conceived the collection as an iconoclastic retrospective of his career, revisiting patterns and fabrics from his earlier collections.  Titled 'The Horn of Plenty,' the collection was fiercely satirical and deliberately provocative."
--Entrance placard

Ten Hut

Dog torture

Madeleine and I go to the Isabella Plantation, about one month before the rhododendrons bloom. Still, it is a peaceful area for a walk only disturbed by Rusty chasing ducks. Madeleine and I talk about school and sports, homework, goals. She notes that "everybody knows Eitan" even at her school. Well, of course it feels this way as the younger child. And besides, I tell her, she is known for her running and theatre; her teachers adore her and she is DDG (which gets an eye roll). All true.

Sonnet and I have drinks with a few Hampton School parents at The Plough. The chit chat is around the ESFA semi final defeat as well as various school gossips. I can't keep track of which parent owns whom but the mums sure know. Its disconcerting when someone I don't recognise is telling me how Eitan did on his Chemistry exam today. Thank God for Sonnet, who is on top of this like a moma bear.

Marcus reports that he managed the car seat test and he and Adrienne now home with Willa Sofia. As I tell him, one day down and 18 years to go.

DDG=Drop Dead Gorgeous

Hello Willa Sofia

New parents

Marcus and Adrienne come home with a baby and Madeleine and Eitan get a cousin (Madeleine: "OMG she's beautiful!!). There is lots of excitement and love in our lives on the addition of Willa Sofia, a beautiful adopted child. Let the sleep deprivation experiment begin.

Madeleine's play, "I Am", recently cancelled due to the building burning down, but the show must go on. The troupe have doubled down on rehearsals having found an alternative location to practice, practice, practice! Madeleine's spirits soar to be back on stage. Today she talks to her form tutor and Head of Year to discuss raising money for the BAC.

ESFA Semi Final

Friday night boogie.

Eitan's Hampton U14 A squad plays Banstead School, Essex, in the Semi Final of the English Schools FA cup. To reach the final four, the boys have won eight in a row and qualified from a pool of 700 teams. Hampton School has never gotten so far in any age bracket.

The boys are nervous but not as much as the parents, as is usually the case. I fly in from Geneva and head for the pitch with Richard and Jack, who has cut school to watch. Sonnet joins and we bite our nails anxiously as Hampton breaks from the huddle, "Go Hampton!"

At half-time its 1-1 on two good goals but in the second half Banstead pulls ahead on a cracker - 25 meter free kick which hits the left goal bar and goes in. Another goal by them seals it and Hampton boys walk off the pitch, hangdogged. Eitan skips the customary post-game hot dog.

Well, what can one say? Hampton had a great season and did themselves and their school proud. Eitan played every game and made important contributions to the team - at center midfield, he is the backbone of the squad. And a pleasure to watch. We could not be more proud.

Geneve

Jet d'eau

I'm in Geneva and enjoy a familiar site taken for granted in my yuf - the Jet d'Eau, one of the largest fountains in the world and where Lake Geneva empties into the Rhone.  The jet sends 132 gallons of water per second to an altitude of 140 metres via two hidden pumps. The water leaves the nozzle at 124 mph. At any moment there are about 1,849 gallons of water in the air.

The first Jet d'Eau was installed in 1886 at the Usine de la Coulouvrenière, a little further downstream. It was used as a safety valve for a hydraulic power network and could reach 30 metres. In 1891, its aesthetic value recognised and it was moved to its present location to celebrate the Federal Gymnastics Festival and the 600th anniversary of the Swiss Confederation. 

Since 2003, the fountain has operated during the day all year round, except if frost or, particularly, strong wind

In the late summer, 1983, I swam across the lake, in preparation for the swim season, with Tony, a university student and distance swimmer who proudly drove a Mini Cooper the size of a doghouse. We were oblivious to the speeding motor boats that passed us by.

Thames Path

Sunday walk

Madeleine and I take Rusty for a walk along the Thames Path in Teddington starting at Ham House.

The Sheen Lions defeat the Met Police Blues, 2-0, in a league game. Eitan scores the second goal.

"There are three locks at Teddington and these represent the lowest and the largest on the non-tidal River Thames. Richmond Lock, three miles downstream, is only used at low tides. Mean river flow at Teddington is about 15,000 gallons (70,000 liters) per second but it can increase tenfold during high rainfall."
--Path signage

The Teddington Lock is 146 miles from source while the river's height above sea level is 14 feet.

The Black Feather Dress

The Black Feather Dress from the Horn of Plenty collection in 2009. It is the featured dress for the exhibition and on all the posters.

“What attracted me to Alexander was the way he takes ideas from the past and sabotages them with his cut to make them thoroughly new and in the context of today.” 

--Isabella Blow, patron and muse to Alexander McQueen.

Alexander McQueen

Plato's Atlantis

Sonnet and I attend the private view opening reception for Alexander McQueen at the VA. The exhibition already seen at The Met in 2011, curated by Sonnet's former colleague Andrew Bolton. Sonnet and Madeleine saw that show in New York. It was the tenth most visited show at The Met ever.

As McQueen from London, this opening like a home-coming. The designer, Sonnet says, left school at 15 to train on Saville Row. He grew up in the East End in a working class family, his father a taxi driver, all the more remarkable that he attended Central St Martin's fashion MA without a college degree where he excelled. His graduation collection, 1992, was bought in its entirety by Isabelle Blow, a fashion editor and career maker for designers. From there he started his own label. McQueen said, "to break the rules, one must know them."

And break the rules he did.  McQueen's tailoring impeccable while his story-telling skills extraordinary: everything he did was part of a larger narrative. His clothes not simply designed for provocation. McQueen's work included the armadillo boots, skulls and feathers and animal parts - even taxidermy - in almost every collection. His most famous creation, the bumster trousers, cut five inches below "hipster trousers" to elongate the torso.

Sonnet and I people watch while she greets the Italian Ambassador's family and introduces me to Jeremy Irons and his wife.

Pre Show

Mrs Robinson

Sonnet and I head into the evening, first the Alexander McQueen opening at the VA followed by Caribou at Brixton Academy.  The kids pysched because that means pizza (again).

Madeleine upset over losing her play, poor kid. There will be other shots but this one special, she had put a considerable amount of time into rehearsals and was emotionally committed. Sometimes random events feel terribly personal.

Madeleine surprises Sonnet with a Mother's Day bouquet of flowers.

On minimal communication.
I find Eitan watching a recording of Arsenal vs. ManU, 9AM.
Me: "When was the game?"
Eitan: "Dunno."
Me: "Guess it doesn't really matter, does it?"
Eitan: "Nah."
Sonnet: "I'm going to make a big family breakfast. Are you hungry?" [Dad's note, Eitan has had breakfast."
Eitan: "Yeah, kind of."
Me: "Are you never not hungry?"
Eitan: "Not really."

Rehearsals Cancelled

The Battersea Arts Centre, where Madeleine has been rehearsing a play for the last three weeks, goes up in flames.  Madeleine receives an instagram delivering the bad news.

I used to develop black and white photos at the BAC and there were chemicals everywhere. The dark room on the very top floor surrounded by wood structures and with little foot traffic. The rest of the building also in need of modernisation which, in fact, the council trying to accomplish by raising funds. The building dates to 1891, was the former town hall, and became a community center in 1974.

"We will not be running any performances this evening."
--Battersea Art Centre

YMCA

Chelsea vs. PSG, an awful match

Francois and I prepare YMCA for a €40M investment in Astorg's next fund, inshallah.

Astorg's offices on Berkeley Square in a 300 year old building and the conference room, where our meeting takes place, is hot. I turn the wall heater "off" only it is the building's server. 45 minutes later, a loud knock, and a technician informs us we have taken down the Internet. Classic.

The YMCA founded in London during the Industrial Revolution to provide a healthy Christian alternative to the taverns and the brothels. Today it's the Village People and 57 million beneficiaries from 125 national associations. In the US there are 830 YMCAs (including Berkeley where Moe was a Director and works out daily, 5AM) each providing an employee pension scheme totalling about $6bn in assets of which ca. 8% invested in private equity. Hence our meeting.

Self portrait XXXXII

Roger's wedding gift

Whenever we wish to impress, Sonnet brings out The Spoon. It's big enough to use as a soup bowl. 

The idiocy of the Republican party, or specifically, the 47 Senators who wrote a letter to the Leaders of the Islamic Republic, is remarkable given that Obama is negotiating a no-nukes deal. No matter what the Senate may think of US foreign policy under Obama, the President is the authority to lead the discussion. Imagine if the Democrats did something so stupid. Think Fox would sit still?

Red Bag

Morning

The good news: sunrise 6:15AM which means we are out of .. darkness making a Big Difference to our lives. I am energised. Springtime is payback time. Even the dog happier.

Madeleine has her swimming kit, stuffed in a red bag, for a school gala she dreads. Last night, on the track, she delivered 1X 1500 followed by 400 plus 800 plus 300, all at or near race speed. The kid hauls ass.

Eitan and I have been watching FA cup action: last night it is Madrid vs. Shalke (Germany) who win 4-3 but fail to advance to the semis based on points and some formula that Eitan has explained to me 100 times. The night before ManU lose to Arsenal 2-1. The boy takes it stoically.

Over the weekend I meet Al in Bitburg who invites me and Eitan to a Real Madrid game. Al is a chain smoking, hard drinking Bureau Chief of the Associated Press's Spanish operations which is reason enough to go.

Bitburg, GD

Proud father

Our weekend in Bitburg uneventful - in fact, I don't even see Eitan, nor receive a call nor text, after I drop him off Friday morning leaving me with two full days of freedom! Boredom!

Bitburg barely has a shop to speak of and McDonald's is a big deal in this town of several thousand in the middle of nowhere once attached to a US military base now long gone (Reagan was going to visit Bitburg but he cancelled, last minute). There is a brewery in the middle of town which, apparently, is well known in Germany but otherwise that's it for the industry.

Fortunately there are some interesting Dads in the same boat and I meet John, whose family immigrated to the United States when he was six years-old. John recalls begging neighbours for food before he was ten. But he had a swift boot and his high school soccer team, Hartford Public High School, won the state championships back-to-back and John got a scholarship to college.

Today, he is a partner at Wellington Management which oversees about $1 trillion. He moved to London four years ago to oversee Global Fixed Income Trading. As we both agree, only in America.