Saxaphone

I chat with this friendly musician crossing the Thames on the Waterloo Bridge. He is thrilled to know David and Josh play the tenure saxaphone and cracks into a wide smile when we find something of mutual interest.

The Tube on strike so I find myself walking (and grumbling) from Green Park to Buckingham Palace then Parliament and Big Ben and finally alongside the river next to the Southbank Center, Tate Modern and the Millennium ridge which I cross towards St Paul's to arrive at a restaurant on High Timber Street. I take London for granted most of the time but, as the sunsets, despite the striking Underground, I appreciate this remarkable place.

David, an attorney whom I have known since the go-go years, organises a dinner party for those of us interested in company-building and technology. It is an interesting group, too, which includes Richard, the founder of Razorfish; Mark, who is an operating partner at Silver Lake which owns $14 billion of later stage tech growth equity; Rod, who sold his IT business to WPP last year; Andres, from Argentina and now a tech banker at Jeffries; and Hugo, Head of Policy & Commercial, BBC Future Media & Technology. It is a smart and engaging group in a way only the clever British can be. We discuss the usual reasons for why Europe lags the US re successful start-ups (fragmented market), venture capital (no NASDAQ) and entrepreneurs (culture, mentality; unclear road to riches). Europe, we agree, is capable of creating Hi Tech but unable to exploit it. Examples are Acorn Computers (losers to IBM and Apple); Autonomy (indexed search, loser to Google); Tim Bernards-Lee (HTML and the Internet, losers to, well, everybody). Yet there are success like Skype and Betfair, which my friend Josh founded in London since online gambling prohibited in the states - it will go public on the London Stock Exchange this month at a £2.5 billion valuation. Despite these exceptions only US seems capable, or wacky enough, to make the big bets pan out: Amazon, eBay, Facebook, Google, about every application on the iPad .. these companies are inspired. Europe would be a much better place if we could do the half of it.

The Tigers And A Dog Pledge

Eitan's KPR in action against the Twickenham Tigers, who are defeated 4-nil. Eitan scores his first goal of the season and sets up two more with lovely crosses. He is relieved to get on the board and the boys deserve to win against an enthusiastic but outmatched team. It pours rain so us dads are happy when the thing is over.

"They are acing it, these guys. Election Day is now only a month away. The demoralized Democrats are held hostage by the unemployment numbers. And along comes this marvelous gift out of nowhere, Christine O’Donnell, Tea Party everywoman, who just may be the final ingredient needed to camouflage a billionaires’ coup as a populist surge. By the time her fans discover that any post-election cuts in government spending will be billed to them, and not the Tea Party’s shadowy backers, she’ll surely be settling her own debts with fat paychecks from “Fox & Friends.”

--Frank Rich, NYT

Madeleine's "Dog Pledge", dated 26.9.2010, posted inside the kitchen cabinet.

1. I pledge to walk the dog

2. I pledge to give the dog a bath

3. I pledge to brush the dog

4. I pledge to pet the dop

5. I pledge to uphold the dog rules [a separate, executed, document dear reader]

6. Clear up all its poo when I am around

Madeleine signs, and I counter-sign, the paper.

10 Pack

I am on the Richmond High Street at 11PM in a torrential downpour. To be more specific: I am at McDonald's ordering McNuggets for the over-nighters. Richmond one of London's wealthiest suburbs yet you would never it know it given the riff raff I witness: kids stumbling through the street or hovering in doorways to escape the rain and drenched boozers smoking since they cannot do so inside. I can smell their beer breath. The entrance of McD's blocked by five teens smoking in my face: the boys in hoodies and girls in heels and micro minis all tarted up and no where to go. Inside is not much better. I sympathise with the cashiers who take grief from the customers including a drunk dude who complains about the speed of service since mine a large order. Everyone has to pick on someone I suppose. It is not worth my time to get in his face but I am sorely tempted.

The boys go lights out at 1AM. Sonnet makes one final check and finds Luke reading a book while the others spread on the carpet in their sleeping bags sound asleep. The TV still on.

The three layer "Devil's Chocolate Food Cake" with vanilla icing and twix bar candles, pictured, prepared by Eitan. Sparkles by Sonnet.

Eitan: "Shhh! Everybody be quiet so when mom comes in she thinks we are listening to her."

Party Gang

Missing from the photo is Joseph, who spent the night at hospital with asthma. He is doing fine and joins us for dinner. Madeleine does a good job being involved without being too involved. I know it is tough on her. I promise her that these things "all even out over time." That one gets a blank stare.

Pre Party

Eitan prepares gift bags for his party: hamburger yo-yo, check. Chocolate and sour sweats, check. A stretchy man and party popper, check, check, check. He is wearing his new sweater from Sonnet. The boys arrive shortly and the Big Strategy to take the little animals to the park for football and a good fagging out. Unfortunately it is raining.

High Street Britain

The British High Street has been hit hard by the recession though perhaps not has bad as it could be. Overall the retail economy's second quarter 2010 down 3.6% off the corresponding period of '09 while 2009 annual sales down 7.8% from '08 (The Blue Book 2006 reports that this sector added gross value of £127,520 million to the UK economy in 2004). The collapse of car sales the downward driver: -33.8 in Q2 '10 and -21.1% in '09 (British Retail consortium). Interestingly, I recieve a call from a German friend at Nord Bank who may lend to the McLaren Group, famous for its fast cars. McLaren will launch the MP4 in April, 2011, for a cool £170,000. Nord Bank wants the pre-sales since the company is cagey about the figures. To lend a hand, I call dealers in London, Manchester and Birmingham posing as a HNWI ("high net worth individual," dear reader). How nice to get call-backs within moments of my message! While the salesmen will not tell me their order book one fellow does offer helpfully: "it is fantastic!" To secure my MP4 by 2012, I am asked to show an "expression of interest" by giving McLaren fifteen grand. Opportunity does not come on the cheap.

While cars are a donut, department stores, super markets, furniture and foot ware are growing >6% a year while watches and jewelry - a sure indicator of the economic cycle - post second quarter sales of +22% (British Retail consortium). Another interesting shift: Internet and online delivery is up 18% from last year (source: Internet Retailing). Our local high street, meanwhile, is on a fairly busy road and a hodge podge of estate agents, restaurants, cafés, clothing, hardwares and magazine stands. There are chains (Costa Coffee, WH Smith, Blockbuster) and independents. We have the largest Waitrose (an upmarket grocery) in southwest London while Madeleine has two pet stores to choose from, lucky kid. Nature's law applies: the strongest shops survive - which is a nice example for Eitan as I explain Darwin's theory of natural selection this week. Christmas is the make-or-break season and the weak gone by spring.

And Britain's largest? Tesco, easily, which is a global grocery and general merchandising retailer headquartered in Cheshunt. Tesco is the third largest retailer in the world by sales (£62 billion, Feb-2010) and the second largest measured by profits (£3.4 billion) (Deloittes and the Tesco annual report)). The company employs 440,000 people in 14 countries across and 2,482 stores (33 million square feet).

"Every little helps."

--Tesco advertising

Slurp

Sonnet: "Do you know what this is?"

Madeleine: "Shampoo."

Sonnet: "I want you to wash your hair after swimming practice. Then you don't have to take a shower later today."

Madeleine: "I don't want to do it."

Sonnet: "It would be so much easier if you just take a shower after swimming."

Madeleine: "Nope."

Me: "Why?"

Madeleine: "I hate the showers at the pool. I just do."

Me: "Fair enough."

Sonnet: "Your ride is here. Time to go!"

Eitan: "Do you know that I grunt and twitch sometimes?"

Me: "That's interesting."

Eitan: "Uncontrollably."

Eitan: "What are we going to do with the bamboo in the pond?"

Me: "It's not bamboo. They're water reeds.

Eitan: "Are not!"

Me: "Are so."

Eitan: "Not!"

Me: "Way."

Eitan: "Well, what are you going to do with them any way?"

Me: "At some point I will prune the reeds back."

Eitan: "We can deliver it in a package to a road we, like, know in China so they can go to the Pandas."

Maud'Dib

Madeleine reads "Horrid Henry's Big Bad Book" and Eitan starts "Dune," which I reread this summer for the third time. It is my favorite sci-fi and important to have a fingered copy, here, which I found in my parent's house this summer.

Here is the edited synopsis from Wiki: Dune written by Frank Herbert and published in '65. It won the Hugo Award in '66, and the inaugural Nebula Award for Best Novel. Dune is frequently cited as the world's best-selling science fiction novel. Set in the far future amidst a sprawling feudal interstellar empire where planetary fiefdoms are controlled by noble houses that owe an allegiance to the Imperial House Corrino, Dune tells the story of young Paul Atreides (the heir apparent to Duke Leto Atreides and the heir of House Atreides) as he and his family accept control of the desert planet Arrakis, the only source of the "spice" melange, the most important and valuable substance in the universe. The story explores the complex and multi-layered interactions of politics, religion, ecology, technology, and human emotion, as the forces of the Empire confront each other for control of Arrakis and its drug "spice".

Eitan readies himself for his birthday party which will see five boys for an afternoon celebration followed by a slumber party. Sonnet and I steel ourselves for a long night.

Eitan, 7AM: "My birthday party is today. I am so excited - I am going to go downstairs and do my homework."

Me, Sonnet:

Muad'Dib (pronounced /ˌmuːɑːdˈdiːb/) is a desert mouse within Frank Herbert's Dune universe. It is also the name for a constellation of stars and is taken as a name by the first novel's hero, Paul Atreides.

--Dune

Brown 2014

I remember sitting at the John D. Rockefeller library (known as the "Rock," which was initially nick-named the "John," until a hasty response from the President's office) as a Freshmen reading desktop graffiti from the graduating class before my arrival or '84. And even more strangely: scribbled messages from years way before that. College was hard-fought, new and my own little Idaho - the thought that others had done similar or perhaps even the same thing before me un-nerving somehow.

Brown's class of 2014:

Class size: 1,510 (female 52%)

Number of applications/ admitted - 24,988/ 2,738 (11%) (2013 figures)

African American - 10%

Asian - 15%

Latino - 9%

White - 44%

Unknown - 10%

International - 11%

Valedictorian 26%

Top 10% - 93%

First generation college - 14%

Children of Alumni - 12%

Tuition/ Room and board/ total (2013) - $38,048 / $11,080/ $49,128

Average financial aid scholarship - $31,940

-- Brown Alumni Magazine and Brown website. Photo by Richard Benjamin

Richmond Park Academy

I attend a presentation by the School Heads of five neighborhood primary schools. While our Burrough has some of the best state primaries, the secondary schools are dismal and most parents send their children to public (ie, private) schools in Southwest London. There are good options, too, like St Paul's and the Hampton School. Having attended Berkeley High School with 3,000 students I am all for state education. My best friends are from this time and also some of the most interesting: musicians, writers, architects, film makers, entrepreneurs .. all progressive. All liberal.

Twenty years ago the Sheen School a good secondary. When Labour came to power in '97, the rules changed and school funding went to "bums in seats" and the Sheen School recruited outside the Burrough to fill the classroom. Over time, it became crowded and worse, a holding place for the less desirabales from around London. Performance and interest fell while the best kids chose elsewhere. Today I often see the little ruffs with shirts untucked in menacing packs smoking cigarettes. Those are the girls. Motivated, competitive, mums who have nothing but the best ambitions for their precious dears do not give Sheen School a thought.

Last year Sheen School taken over by the council and rebranded "Richmond Park Academy" (an academy, I learn, allows the government to take over poor performing schools and dismiss the Head Teacher and disband the Board of Governors. In short, the council can take immediate action). Unusually, the Head Teacher remains while the academy status nets investment in new buildings, new teachers and committed focus; our Tory council is in line for the first time in 14 years with national politics which speeds change. And there is hope, real hope, for improvement. I see this in last night's presentations which are passionate. One mother notes (near tears) how Sheen School (now RPA) was thought a "disaster" but her daughter's first year a triumph - "she is loving it and comes home excited by her day." The challenge of a school re-boot is the community buy-in: success depends on the students and the best now sent to the publics. If our children went ensemble it could become "the best state secondary in Britain" given the quality of the primaries. It is a huge leap of faith. We (I !) want a great local state secondary. It would benefit the community and keep the kids close to home with their friends and sports and families. Eitan and we have a year to observe.

Eitan, over cereal: "It must be boring to be a shark."

Me:

Eitan: "All they do is eat fish."

Me: "I think it might be kind of cool .. they do not have much to worry about. Other then shark fin soup."

Eitan: "All they do is eat, sleep and swim. Just like Michael Phelps. That is his motto, you know."

Me: "I am glad you are thinking about these things."

Eitan: "Yeah. I guess so."

Birthday Banana

In the past 24 hours we have celebrated two yuful birthdays: Katie yesterday and Eitan, who turns ten, today. 

The boy's celebration begins last night as ManU's Javier Hernandez scores a dramatic game-winner against Valenzia in the final minutes of the all important Champions League qualifier. Sonnet, I and Joseph, who is over for dinner, hear him yelp - way past his bedtime, I might point out, but I figure the kid deserves a bone every now and again. He almost loses the privilege on the way to swimming practice as he and Madeleine fight in the back seat (Eitan denies wrong-doing but Nathanial points out helpfully: "You can see the bite marks on Madeleine's arm"). 

This morning Sonnet, per tradition, makes Eitan breakfast in bed. Beforehand he is in our bedroom as Sonnet readies herself for work and we have a discussion about our favorite books. Since mine may be Churchill's World War II memoirs, whose six volumes I read in two months when I was 24, we discuss Europe - thanks to Churchill, history is more compelling than any fiction I know. Eitan a rapt listener. Madeleine in her bedroom listening to Harry Potter with one thing on her mind. Guess. Tonight, per Eitan's request, we will go to Wagamama's noodle restaurant. He takes his classmates crisps - one bag each. Football slumber party Saturday. 

Yep, a good day for us all.

Me, driving: "Enough! Stop fighting! No ManU game tonight."

Eitan: "That is so unfair. Please let me watch the game.. you promised!"

Me: "I gave you three warnings and you you chose not to listen."

Eitan:

Me, a bit later: "Look, I know this is a big game. If you give me something I want, maybe I will reconsider the game."

Eitan: "How about if I do the dishes for two weeks?"

Me: "You do that already."

Eitan: "Money?"

Me:

Madeleine: "I know! I know!"

Eitan: "I will do the yard work without complaining."

Me: "OK, we are getting close to something."

Madeleine: "Dad, please - I have an idea!"

Me: "Yes, Madeleine?"

Madeleine: "He can do my chores."

Eitan:

Madeleine: "Eitan gets to watch ManU and I don't have to do chores."

Me:

Madeleine: "Win-win, Dad. Just like you always are saying."

Blanda

Football great George Blanda dies, age 83. Blanda played for the Houston Oilers and Chicago Bears but I will always remember him to be an Oakland Raider, where he played from '67 until '75. He retired as a silver and black. Blanda was a place kicker and quarterback before free agents, money, indoor stadiums, Al Davis and AstroTurf corrupted the game. In the 60s and 70s, a fella could play any position as long as he was capable (it was also not usual to see players, on the sideline, smoking on a fag - team mate Fred Biletnikoff did so between oxygen drags. But this was the Raiders). Blanda a coal miner's son from Pittsburgh who got his shot while at Kentucky U, being drafted in the 12th round by the Bears. His ranking gave no indication of his future success which eventually covered 26 seasons of professional football - the most in the history of this sport. During this period Blanda set all kinds of records including most passingTDs in a game (7, tied with four others); most PATs made (943) and attempted (959); most interceptions in a season 42 ('62) and the first player to score 2,000 points. In his first eligibility year, Blanda was voted into the Pro Football Hall of Fame in '81. Fittingly, he died in Alameda, California, not too far from the Oakland stadium.

Go Go's

Girls just want to have fun. This shot of Catherine and Sonnet taken Thursday, August 24, 1996, at a party hosted by Ivor and Alison before our wedding. Catherine the Maid of Honour (Definition: A Maid of Honour was a maiden, meaning that she was unmarried, and was usually young. Lady Jane Grey, for example, served as a Maid of Honour to Queen Catherine Parr in about 1546-48, when Jane was only about ten to twelve years old). I think Catherine a bit more modern than the day's title suggests.

The Labour party chooses Ed Miliband instead of brother David to lead the shadow government. David the former Secretary of State for Foreign and Commonwealth Affairs and an excellent politician who Hillary Clinton said was "tall and dashing." Our David has been a Senior Special Advisor to Miliband so, sure, I wanted the taller brother to win. My one chance to influence the country, dude. On top of that, David Miliband a known international figure who has represented his country well. While Ed also seems compelling, he is not known outside of the UK. Truth: he is barely known inside the UK. So why him? Unions - they put their weight behind Ed thinking he will be sympathetic to labour's plight during and after the Great Recession. The unions already threaten to strike given the current government's draconian cuts to balance the budget. Unfortunately for Labour, a poll published in today's Times shows David by far the more popular candidate with British voters .. as a party, the apt expression following Saturday's leadership announcement might be "buyer's remorse" .. Or, better: "freak out." Ed has a long ways to go before reaching his brother's political stature. And Tony Blair? Ed doesn't have a chance of matching the silver tongued master.

Me: "Do you know our Prime Minister?"

Madeleine: "David Cameron!"

Me: "Well done."

Madeleine: "He's the mean guy who wants to bring the whip out on the children."

Wall Street - The Movie

Oliver Stone's remake of his film "Wall Street" does not really interest me. The '87 film, however, caught the rumblings of a country shifting from manufacturing and export to services .. and easy, so it seemed, money (Ivan Boesky: "Greed is good"). For many youngsters, myself included, it was an irresistible shout out. Recall "Wall Street" hit the theatres a month following a Wall Street collapse and the film not critically received nor particularly popular. I watched Wall Street in '89, in my parent's den, returning to Providence for my final semester of college and job interviews with all the "bulge bracket" firms.

Stone meant Wall Street to be a cautionary tale with Gordon Gekko serving as the modern-day villain: his flashy clothes hide his lack of class and, cathartically, he receives his comeuppance by the film's blue collar Joes who bring Gekko down while fleecing his money. Unlike Gekko, Gekko's protege, Bud Fox (pictured), spoke to many of my generation. We were blind to the perils of cheap (or compromised) success yet Gekko and Fox do jail time. For that matter, many of us wanted to be in harm's way - in the middle of something important - glamorous - that effected industry, jobs and people. We wished for the chance to make the decision, often in the grey areas, of right and wrong. What responsibility! Fox's flash apartment and model girlfriend a stupid red herring; the real message of Bud Fox was that you could be Bud Fox. And straight from college. "Wall Street" may not have been a box-office success but in '89, 75% of Yale's graduating class applied for investment banking jobs (First Boston, where I went, received 55,000 applications for 60 financial analyst spots). I thought to myself: this is the most competitive thing I can pursue; this is the most prestigious place I can go with my education.

I have talked to a number of friends about "Wall Street" and one, who has been at Credit Suisse since '85 and has run various units from asset management to Asian m&a, recalls the film as baseless ("I saw it as completely unrealistic drivel"). We have also discussed the evils of the industry and neither of us can recall working with a Gekko-like colleague or, for that matter, anyone who broke the rules or was corrupted by money somehow. Sure, there were guys I despised, but they, too, were hard working and smart and held their clients to the very highest of esteem.

Wall Street hanged itself when A) commercial banks allowed to offer investment banking services in '90; B) private partnerships went public with Salomon Brothers leading the way in '85; C) the shift of power from the client advisory business to the bond desk and prop trading where a firm trades its "own" money. The latter especially was Gekko territory. By the 1980s the lowly bond trader now King (while everybody made a killing). When the long-term banker relationships marginalised, the race was on for the collapse. Nor have we learned, it would seem, given the Financial Reform Acts' Republican neutering, but we shall see - of this we can be sure.

"The main thing about money, Bud, is that it makes you do things you don't want to do."

Lou Mannheim to Bud Fox in "Wall Street"

Windsor Half Marathon

Sonnet runs the Windsor Half Marathon finishing in one-hour and forty-six minutes or six minutes faster than her best time, which she set in 2008 while preparing for the London Marathon. Her goal today was 1:50 so she is pretty pleased with the outcome. The kids and I remain in the neighborhood as Eitan has a football game (KPR lose to the Whitton Wanderers, 2-nil) and Madeleine chores and homework. Also the Shakespeares need some down time - they are working hard.

Me: "What was your homework this week end?"

Madeleine: "We are doing math sentences."

Me: "What's that?"

Madeleine: "It is when you say something that has maths in it."

Me: "Give me an example."

Madeleine: "Ok, um, the sun has 100 Cokes and, say, the moon has 150 Pepsis .. "

Me: "Yes?"

Madeleine: "How many are there?"

Me: "250 .. "

Madeleine: "Right! It could have been Cokes and Fantas or something though."

Madeleine: "Are we really going to get a dog that week end?"

Me: "We'll see. I have to check my calender."

Madeleine: "Calender .. My calender is free."

Rapper's Delight

Saturday early morning, Sonnet takes Madeleine to swimming practice in her black Lycras - tomorrow she will run the Windsor Half Marathon. I fire up my Blackberry and Eitan wanders into the bedroom: "Can I watch football highlights on Sky Sports?" he implores. I suggest he finish his homework since we have an hour before soccer practice and he leaves dejectedly. I find him a few moments later here, at the kitchen table, actually doing his homework. A small victory. I pour myself some cereal and we discuss last night's parents disco party at the school's Tim Bernard Lee hall - he is mortified when I show him a couple of my moves. The thought of adults dancing too much information. We then have a game of humming songs trying to identify the others and finally, I recall, he should be finishing his geometry.

Eitan wins a year-five talent show by singing "Rapper's Delight" which he has been practicing from the back seat of the car all summer.

Me: "Madeleine, let Eitan use your bike - he has a birthday party."

Madeleine: "No, dad. It is my bike."

Me: "Just this once -- he would really appreciate it."

Madeleine: "Listen to the title: 'My Bike.'"

Me: "Madeleine, it seems to me that if you share your bike with Eitan you might get something in return."

Madeleine:

Me: "What is something he has that you want?"

Madeleine: "I don't know .. "

Me: "How about chores?"

Madeleine: "You mean if I let him use my bike I have to do more chores?"

Me: "Well, what if you negotiated something with your brother. If you let him use the bike, see if he will do your chores."

Madeleine: "Two weeks. Of chores. That seems fair."

Me: "Whatever you can negotiate, sweetheart. It is your deal."

Madeleine: "Four weeks then."

Me:

Madeleine: "I am not giving him my bike."

Me: "Look, Madeleine, you have two choices. You can let Eitan use your bike and see if you can negotiate something with him. That's a win-win."

Madeleine: "Or?"

Me: "Eitan will use the bike and I will ask you to do his chores for not sharing. That would be a lose-lose ."

Madeleine: "Do you think he would do my chores for a month?"

Me: "Now you are talking game."

"i said a hip hop the hippie the hippie
to the hip hip hop, a you dont stop
the rock it to the bang bang boogie say up jumped the boogie
to the rhythm of the boogie, the beat

"now what you hear is not a test--i'm rappin to the beat
and me, the groove, and my friends are gonna try to move your feet
see i am wonder mike and i like to say hello
to the black, to the white, the red, and the brown, the purple and yellow
but first i gotta bang bang the boogie to the boogie
say up jump the boogie to the bang bang boogie
let's rock, you dont stop
rock the riddle that will make your body rock
well so far youve heard my voice but i brought two friends along
and next on the mike is my man hank
come on, hank, sing that song "

-- Sugar Hill Gang, Rapper's Delight

Autumnal Equinox

Here we are, Friday, and the autumnal equinox. Since I aim to describe this accurately to the kiddies, I will do so first here. So yesterday the day and night roughly the same length, which meant an important day in historic times. There is, for instance, a 5,000 year old burial mound at Lough crew in Co Meath, Ireland, where the sun shines directly through a small opening into the burial chamber only at the equinox, lighting up magnificent carvings on the chamber wall. Straight from Tintin, dude. At the Holy Trinity Church in Barsham, Suffolk, an insignificant little window high up in the church tower seems to have no particular function. But for a few minutes on the equinox a shaft of light from the setting sun floods through the window and illuminates a statue of Christ high in the church's rafters. The church built 700 years ago, but the strange equinox illumination was hidden until several years ago. The traditional harvest festival in the UK celebrated on the Sunday of the full moon closest to the September equinox, but this tradition mostly gone now as farming agriculture has diminished in importance (and the world, sadly, less of a mystery). The summer and winter solstices attract more attention because they are easier to mark. The word equinox BTW is derived from the Latin word aequinoctium (equal night). (source: Paul Simmons, The Times)

"Mathew's Day, bright and clear.

Brings good wine in next year."

--Ancient rhyme about St Matthew's; it was believed the weather on the autumn equinox dictates the rest of the autumn.

Madeleine's poster greets me by the front door: "The Dog Deciding Time Is Now" which complements the papers left on my and Sonnet's pillow: "Can We Get A Dog?"

Blue Shoes

Madeleine snaps my new trainers and her idea to give me the candles for our shoot.

While I am generally Ok with the coalition government, following 12 years of Labour, they do not lack stupidity when it comes to immigration: from July, the Home Office imposed a temporary limit on non-EU migrant workers of 24,100 from June 2010 to April 2011, including intra-company transfers. This morning on Radio 4, accounting giant PwC announced that they are unable to meet staffing demands in London and suggest that they might consider relocating their European headquarters. The auto manufacturing industry, already on its knees, warns that the cap could "impact the attractiveness of the UK as a location for inward investment and undermine the Uk's role in an increasingly global economy." The City, already concerned about extended regulation and bonus limitation, depends on the best financiers from India or America or wherever. Britain has gained immensely from its generous policies towards new comers but the recession cuts deep: people scared and vulnerable and racist and outsiders the easy target (see: Mexicali). Unlike the US where much of the country's immigration is illegal and pursues manual labour, Britain has transformed itself into a services economy and prospered with foreign talent: global firms drawn to London while the Southeast drives the country's economy, increasing the tax base. Several years ago the proposed non-dom tax hostile but today's threat greater: companies, capital and labour can move anywhere, quickly, and may do so if government's policies do not welcome them (us).

Mike Katie David; Britan The Worst?

Katie returns to NYC following a visit to Stanford where her Op-Ed Project has entered a partnership. On her flight are Mike and David on their way to the Big Apple for work. They share a taxi, pictured.

Here is one I ponder: A uSwitch survey suggests that "Great Britain is the worst place to live in Europe" given the high living costs, below average government spending on health and education, lack of holidays and late retirement. The UK no longer has the highest net household income either - Last year it was £10,000 above the European average, whereas now it is £2,314 ahead, slipping below Ireland, the Netherlands and Denmark. Ireland? France holds the top spot in the index for the second year with Spain second, with Denmark, Poland and Germany rounding out the top five, with all these countries offering more days of holiday and a lower retirement age than the UK and Ireland. By these same measures, London is the worst place to live in Britain given the capital exports around £20 billion annually to the rest of the country while owning the longest hospital queues, most congested public transportation, highest housing prices and some of the lowest performing state schools. On the other hand, London is one of those rarest of cities - it offers infinite possibility.

Into The Light

National Portrait Gallery to mezzanine and the Tudors.