Sarah

The past is back to say 'hello'

So this is Sarah, who I did not recognise on the 85th Street subway platform. Katie does.

Sarah my first girlfriend in the 7th grade made so by a faithful one-sentence telephone call: "Will you go with me?" She agreed and I hung up. In fact, I did not have much else to say for the six weeks we were 'together' until the inevitable 'Lets just be friends' letter arrived in my locker.

The thing about being 12, no boy has anything interesting to say to a girl. The only thing on his mind is football or his comic book collection and the after-school candy bar selection.

Sarah was developed in every way, well ahead of the rest of the crowd. She never got a B in junior high or high school nor college (Williams). She was head of the Columbia University literature department until promoted Dean of Humanities. What the hell was I going to add to that ?

Sarah and I agree to have a drink next time I am in Manhattan. There is 38 years to catch up and all of 7th grade.

Taipei - London - New York

Sonnet shows off the VA

Sonnet with Hyunju, who we meet for a coffee before Hyunju visits the Pink Floyd exhibition. Hyunji's family offices control one-third of Taiwan including owning the largest insurance company and the country's mobile network.

In New York, Katie and I go to Barney Greengrass "The Sturgeon King" on the Upper West side for some Jewish comfort food. Roger and I once went here when we lived on 85th and Columbus in an apartment that reflected our stage of life. No money but long on youth.

From matzo ball soup, we go for Korean massages and a pedicure followed by Smith & Wollensky's for a steak dinner.  It's kinda Soprano's style. Katie returns from Providence where she has signed Brown University as a new client.

“I can definitely say the president is not a liar. I think it’s frankly insulting that that question would be asked.”
--The White House

KKR's Offices

It's like flying

I'm on the Eastern Seaboard last week for meetings. It feels like I am following Donald Trump around the globe.

Of course former FBI guy James Comey testifies before Congress and flat out calls the President a God damn liar, which Trump denies and calls Comey a God damn liar and says he will say so under oath. As if, Mr President.

Who could have thought the Republicans could cough up a hair ball worse than George Bush Junior ?

My opinion aside, 40% of Americans think Trump is doing a swell job, sticking it to The Man, feeling their rage. Too bad these same people will lose their health care, get fleeced by Wall Street and special interests (so long, Dodd Frank), see their food stamps and benefits shrivel to the size of their scrotum, the poor bastards. Why should I care, really ?

But let's not forget the UK's hubris : Theresa May gets walloped by Jeremy Corbyn who is looking, well, rather attractive though he is the Leftist wolf breathing on the country's front door. All May had to do was keep her mouth shut, govern and negotiate Brexit which kicks off, like, Now.

My bet is that Boris will take over the conservative party followed by a 2nd general election in 2017. Labour wins it.

The Kiss

Tuileries Garden

Rodin was a sensuous bastard.

The Kiss portrays Paolo and Francesca from Dante’s Divine Comedy: slain by Francesca’s husband who surprised them as they exchanged their first kiss, the two lovers are condemned to wander eternally through Hell. Now I make a joke about what's in store for Madeleine's suiters. Ar AR.

I return from a routine visit to Paris following a Bank Holiday Monday that correspondes nicely with Memorial Day Weekend. Paris is a jewel this time of year - there is no place I would rather be in the springtime or early summer.

Jordan

Sacred land

From Mount Scopus I look into Jordan - in the distance is the Dead Sea.

I go for a jog along the path which circles Jerusalem on the eastern border and passes the Arab quarter, which is dense and built into the mountainside. A gold balled minaret, maybe 15 stories high, is in the middle; a loud speaker drones of the injustices of the Jews which echo from the walls of the deserted concrete-block streets (the wailing begins at 6AM until Midnight).

The thing is, the Arabs are invited to live and work in Jerusalem; the Israeli Arabs make a large portion of the city and vote in the national elections. The Palestinians, by contrast, want the Jews out of Jerusalem and are not willing to share it. Therein lies the conflict.

I drive through the West Bank (the highway bifurcates the region) which is walled and prevents the flow of people.

Jerusalem maybe the size of the Bay Area yet looms large in our imagination if not our life.

Labyrinth

Old Jerusalem

Despite the day's temperatures, the medina is cool.  The shopkeepers open by 10AM and I negotiate a few items to bring home.  There is Arab coffee, bread and fresh bagel stalls and fruit drinks or lemonade. All negotiated for a price, of course. 

My driver scores me a ticket to the Israel Premier League football championships between Maccabi Tel Aviv and Hapoel Be'er Sheva. The dude knows the owner.  Though I am not vested in either team, it is world class football and fun to take in the good vibes. 

Prayer For The Living

God talks

The Wall was originally erected as part of the expansion of the Second Jewish Temple (517 BCE to 70 BC) by Herod the Great as the encasement of the steep hill known to Jews and Christians as the Temple Mount. The temple hosts the Dome of Rock and is one of the most important religious sites in the world - it has been venerated as a holy site for thousands of years by Judaism, Christianity and Islam (during my visit the Temple is accessible only to Muslims for prayer, the entrance-way guarded by Israeli soldiers).

The Wall is open to all those who wish access, though the sexes are split to separate areas. Inside the tunnels of the ancient city are libraries of scripture where one can study the ancient prophecies; sermons in Hebrew attract the faithful, outside of the baking sun.

Wailing Wall

In Jerusalem I visit the Wailing Wall, part of the larger Western Wall in the ancient city, where I record the sounds of the Jewish scholars chanting in prayer. I am reminded all over again of the weirdness of life.

God is a serious business.

Last time I was here was 1984.

Tel Aviv

I arrive in Tel Aviv and am hit by the temperature: maybe 90 degrees.  It is a vibrant place, a mix of California, Western Europe and the third world. Dirty yet modern skyscrapers distributed across the skyline. I am in a grubby neighbourhood with the yuf about a kilometre from the beach, which beats the Four Seasons. Perfect to experience the action and people-watch, which is a mixture of everything, but mostly young. The blood of the world.

For an instant I am wistful for my 20s. I promise Madeleine to bring her here.

People live in Tel Aviv (population 4m) to make money, of course (unlike Jerusalem) but also to have fun. It is not a place to relax (I am told) and to "live and experience life."

I go for a run along the Mediterranean and pass this unusual couple, pictured. They are by themselves; it begs a story.

Ásgeir Trausti

Koko's club

We see Ageir in Cambden at the invitation of Stephane and Caroline, who are from Paris and relocated to London about 18 months ago. They are chic.

I give Stephane shit for being French, well, because he is French and deserves it, but Stephane is not a Frenchie-French. He is French-international. Big difference. Clever bastards.

Ageir, for his part, is a singer-songwriter from Iceland which is an unusual start. His music is haunting, even while the words unrecognisable to me. He seems surprised to be on stage before a sold out audience of fans who know the words to his songs.

The Manchester bombing kills 22, targeting young people at a concert. It is the new normal.

A Dog's Life

Sometimes I think the dog has one over on us.

I make a two hour hike of Richmond Park weighted down with my 65 liter back-pack loaded with tin cans to simulate the gear for the JMT.  I've sorted the kit but the food drops still have me worried. Two months to get myself sorted (as these Brits would say).

Madeleine and I go to the movies - totally irregular for a Monday school night but homework be damned, it's Alien Covenant. We settle in for a couple hours of alien gore. Not nearly so good as the first Alien, Ridley Scott's master work (watched at the Grand Oak theatre with my mom in 1979 btw), but still fun. Madeleine is Big into film and photography, with her photos taped on her bedroom wall.

The reason I love my blog is the randomness: for instance, I would have never recalled that Madeleine wanted to name her turtle 'Alonzo Smith' before choosing Eric and Nelson.

Sonnet Tedx

Birthday Gal

Sonnet's birthday is celebrated by her with an early morning run around Richmond Park with her girlfriends (she does it every Sunday anyway). We go to a matinee in Barnes with Madeleine - how decadent on a sunny afternoon - and tonight we will have an early family dinner at the local gastro pub (Madeleine begs for sushi but me: No way).

Observing Madeleine, who is so cool and up for anything, who will make some guy a great companion, I appreciate how lucky I am to have shared the Adventure with Sonnet. Like mother, like daughter.

Madeleine texts me: "I am rediscovering old bands" and rattles off a bunch of groups from two years ago.

Angleterre

It's a queen size bed

Back in London I am reminded that we own a couple of teenagers.

Of course the weather grey and wet upon arrival home following a week in the mid 80s. But, after so many years, I appreciate Britain's temperate climate.

I recall a dude I worked with at Botts & Co., Michael, who, flying into Heathrow together, clucked his tongue and said "Good old Angleterre." (Michael also reminds me of an advertisement for a Jaguar sports car whose slogan read: "Turn mister average into mister universe". Shortly after Michael drove in with a Jaguar)

I crash early after the long flight and Sonnet retrieves Madeleine from Will's at a negotiated 10:15pm pick-up.  She reports that Will is playing guitar and the crew is singing.

Office Lady

The Japanese are famously polite. I am greeted by a row of similarly styled Japanese women (called "Office Ladies" or OLs); one (always standing) bows and takes my details. I am then greeted on the floor by another woman (bowing) who shows me to a conference room.  Afterwards, the same front desk women (all standing) bow and wish me on my way.

Meetings in Tokyo go well; for a few it is 50-50 whether I am understood. When the English dubious, my counter-party stairs furiously at the presentation and scribbles hard notes in Japanese. I know that if I crack a smile they will too. Or if I laugh for no reason they will join with equal enthusiasm.

Kallan informs that ex-pats get "the fever" when it comes to Asian and Japanese women.

Itamae

A master

I love Tokyo. For a city so big - 26m people - it is clean and orderly, not a gum on the sidewalk nor a wrapper in the street.

And super modern - the high rise towers are destroyed and rebuilt every 30 years to remain earthquake compliant. I stay in the Roppongi district famous (I am told) for the affluent Roppongi Hill development and the popular night club scene. Of course sushi too.

We visit a restaurant where I have perhaps the best sushi of my life. The sushi chef slices raw fish with a longsword of valyrian steel so sharp it would cut through human bone and sinew in a whisper, separating a Lannister's head from his body in an instant. 

Some of the sushis are still living. There is a sea urchan of beautiful white and purple trim that arches upwards looking for air and perhaps some way out. The Japanese businessman contemplates it for a brief moment then down the hatch, followed by sake. Mine are a bit more tame but equally beautiful. 

Self Portrait XXXXXII

Early morning flight from Seoul to Tokyo; airport lounge

During my trip I am accompanied by Park Hill, our placement agent, who we have worked with on funds V and VI.

So (one might ask) what does one do on these road shows besides catch planes and eat Asian food? For starters, I am visiting fund investors who have supported Astorg in past funds (Asian limited partners account for 10% of Astorg VI). I am also setting up the base for the next fundraising, which will take place in 2019 (likely).

In London, Eitan works his way through the GCSE exams. The kid (Sonnet reports) is No Drama. Eitan now about half-way through the exam schedule with the worst part is over : It is no longer the unknown. Or, as I compare, a marathon not a marathon after the first step of the race.

Day 4 : Seoul

Fired up and ready to kick some ass

From HK I am in Seoul to speak at the Alternatives Summit Korea Global Private Equity & Debt conference (My subject is "Co-investment" which is increasingly demanded by limited partners as there are no fees on co-invest deals unlike on the fund).

The guys, pictured, represent over USD 1T of investment.

I am not quite prepared for the conference size - comfortably over 500 Asian delegates staring at me blankly - yet it goes swimmingly well. My words simultaneously translated to Asian languages and sent to ear pieces provided to the attendees.

Afterwards there is a formal dinner and we are treated to a Korean soprano who belts out: "I did it my way" (I did-a it my-ya wuay). With the right people next to me I would have busted a gut.

Day 3 - Hong Kong

High rising

Hong Kong is impressive. The first impression, on the drive to the island from Chek Lap Kok airport, is the density. Then the height. Racks of 40 story condominium towers fight for air space and not only that : arriving at night, they are all lit from inside. 100 pc occupancy which is so very different from, say, Toronto or, now Central London, where the real estate is a financial investment (and the emptiness a worry and a blight).

7 million people on 5 square acres.

The thing of it is - Hong Kong works. The city is amazingly efficient: Roads wind and weave about, connecting office towers to hotels to walkways and on ramps and residential towers. One pays for it though. Rent on a four bedroom family condo easily goes for USD 30,000 a month. A salaried man might live his life in 200 square-feet for 3k.

I meet the Hong Kong Monetary Authority. They are making investments of up to 500m a pop.

Joe

Joe and I reunited

From Taipei to Hong Kong.

I connect with Joe, who I worked with at First Boston. Joe has been at the clipper for 32 years which has to be a record for investment banking. He now heads m&a Asia and has lived in HK since 1993 - the first tour as a single dude living an expat lifestyle (I visited him in '94) and now as a married dude with three kids in their teens.

Joe and I have some good laughs which I can only share with a handful of people from those early years of banking - the urgency of the dealmaking and the stakes that seemed so high (I was informed, "This is not casual sex!" on some project by one particular jerk, which still gets mirth today).  It was exhausting and miserable and now, in the rearview mirror, an adventure. I hesitate to say 'fun' but it was .. something. And now a joy to re-examine it with those who lived it with me.