Sweet Lassi

Madeleine on Brick Lane. That's a mango lassi next to her. Marcus arrives yesterday, flying from Nairobi with his travel mate Brian, who I meet last night over dinner. Brian our age, that is, 42 which he notes "is the bloom of middle-age" which I agree with. He is also a journey-man, and seated next to Madeleine who he tries to engage but, really, not possible their world perspectives so totally different. Brian from a military family so his upbringing uprooted; he started his career in the Alaskan Coast Guard and settled in 49 from 1990-00 where he spent a lot of time outdoors - Christopher McAndles? He has rambled along ever since - most recently joining Marcus across Africa and why not? He helps Scola International build water there. Brian seems like a good travel companion - nice looking guy, good sense of humor - the sort of fellow who adventure seeks out, which is more than one can ask whenst on the road. Halley arrives from Dorset to see Marcus who, afterall, turns 40 on Tuesday. I have tickets to the Enemy, which I have coveted for six months for sold-out Brixton Academy and reluctantly give them to Marcus and Brian - par dieu, it would be unseemly to leave Sonnet with the kids while I out late partying after a family dinner in South Kensington. It is true, I have learned a thing or two in the bloom of middle age.

Habib Bank Zurich

Photo in Whitechapel taken at the East Aldgate tube station - don't think, because of the urban ethnic and generally run-down surrounding, that there ain't wealth here. There is. Whitechapel a dodgy, built-up inner city within Tower Hamlets, London, located about 3 or 4 miles east of Charing Cross (we get here crossing the Tower Bridge, which gives everybody a thrill as we wave at the London Tower and I fascinate the Shakespeares with a story of murder, hangings and torture). More than 1 in 2 in Whitechapel is Bangladeshi or the highest percentage in the UK - it is, indeed, a foreign city. I think the future here promising, despite now, as the East London line of the tube is being extended northwards to Dalston and southwards to West Croydon by 2010. A further extension to provide a complete rail-ring route around south London to Clapham Junction by 2015. Whitechapel also scheduled to be a stop on the Crossrail project also by 2015 - much of the effort spurred by the 2012 Olympics, which is farther east. The transpo changes will most likely lead to a radical redevelopment, making Tower Hamlets more attractive to businesses, but pricing existing residents out of the area. And same as it ever was.

Brick Lane

We visit a gallery with Stan and Silver in the East End, then stroll to Brick Lane for a curry. This the Tower Hamlets council and fascinating - no doubt, poor and ethnic with the shiny city immediately west -the most visible structure being London's most recent sky scraper The Gherkin where Swiss Re domiciled. We choose lunch from multiple venues where outside-proprietors convince us their offers the best Bangalese or Hyderabad or whatever. We settle for one that looks less disco and more family-style. The kids shy away from anything hot while me, I like to tempt misery. I recall a similar place in Cambridge, MA, where Eric and I ate chicken Jal Frezi so hot it made us sweat. Those were good memories from a difficult time - post college, first job, breaking up, pre-Sonnet and my-oh-my the dramz. Brick Lane has gentrified on one side, similar to the Portebello Road which is all high-end antiques on the Notting Hills side while the other a flea market by Golborne Rd and the canal. For Brick Lane, it goes hindu-hindu to .. gay and tailoring. I walk by at least a handful of cool vintage shops and a number of metro-bars. Clubbers know about the biegal bakery which is open 24 hours offering the best bagels and salt-beef sandwiches in London, no question .. we pass a mosque calling to prayer and filling with elderly and young men, who are serious and seem disconnected from modernity. Too bad I think "threat" before anything else.

Me to Eitan, hovering: What do you want to say to my blog?
Eitan: Ummm. Ronaldo ?
Me: Anything else?
Eitan: It's now the Easter Holidays, and dad is making us tidy up even more, which I don't understand. It's the holidays.
Me: And?
Eitan: It's boring.
Me: Why?
Eitan: Dad says he's going to through it (our toys) away if we don't take them off the ground. I tried not doing it, and he didn't do anything about it.
Me: And what does that tell you?
Eitan: That you're just threatening us to try into actually doing it. And scaring us into thinking that we are going to throw the toys away.
Me: So will you put your toys in the future?
Eitan: No.

Mayor's Office

Here is the Mayor's office, mentioned below. This used to be an unkempt, open area as recently as the late 1990s. The South Side where Livingstone's scheme to increase housing stock taken hold - today, where there was nothing as recently as ten years ago, now sees multiple glass-and-steel high-rise condominiums none, I believe, higher than St Paul's. London's housing problem well appreciated by anybody trying to get a foot on the ladder - this city the engine of the UK and in good or bad times, attracts people from everywhere. Prop values may be down 15-25% in some neighborhoods but we all know it will come back. Part of the problem, if one is a first-time buyer that is, London surrounded by "green-belts" where development not permitted. Further, to maintain the historic sky-line, planning permission for anything more than five floors extremely difficult. And nothing can deter the view of St Paul's. Before the global melt-down, Super Gee contemplating developing the wetlands east of Greenwich and near the Thames Barrier. The problem with Gordon's plan being floods - as in, this area a flood plain. Sigh -I am sure it will happen one day, and tax payers will have to bail out (ar ar) the insurance providers. The Thames Barrier BTW architecturally marvelous and built for the once-a-hundred-years flood; it is now used monthly and by 2050, anticipated daily to prevent bankside swelling during the natural course of the tide.

Oh, and since a "bank holiday weekend," it rains.

Tower Bridge

The London Marathon is, gulp, two weeks away and while I run for charity (vs. time) thinking of the course makes me a tad nervous. In '98 when I last ran the thing it was all fine and dandy until mile-24 then .. The Wall. Demoralised and cold, spectators screaming: "only one more mile mate!" I hobbled to Buckingham Palace and finish line on the Mall. It started to rain and I was sick, for like, a year after. 

Still. And yet. For a long-retired student-athlete, there is nothing more compelling than the ultimate race. Studies indicate that one's aerobic abilities decline at a rate much slower than power or force allowing this middle-ager to contemplate a PR (personal record) later at Berlin. 

So, any ways - we head East this morning and here at the Tower Bridge where I shinny across a ledge with a 15 foot drop behind me - tide definitely o-u-t. From there we goof around the South Side near by the Mayor's Office known either as "The Sail" or "The House That Ken Built" (Ken Livingstone being London's first mayor, elected in 2000). His shiny, funky ten-story glass house immediately over-budget and struck by problems with leakage and boarded windows but now it shines. 

How this neighborhood has changed from my early days working in The City when my jogging route Blackfriars, crossing the Thames at Tower Bridge then returning via Westminster Bridge.. there was a lot of rubble, including amazingly, lots bombed in WWII, but now rebuilt and businesses flourish. The great push from here ever eastward into the East End where the 2012 Olympics, we hope, will revitalise an otherwise forever languishing part of the city.

Blather

Sometimes there is no reason to a thing - good, or bad. Regardless, we like to control the outcome. The United States, which has the world's largest military budget by far and in excess of $500 billion per year, has enjoyed decidedly mixed results in its last five goes, which I score as 1-1-3, holding Iraq and Afg as draws for the now (I don't include Grenada which, other than a Clint Eastwood movie, long ago forgotten; nor Mogadishu and Haiti; while Russia never a military battle). Indeed, our might seriously compromised during the Bush-years: prior, America generally viewed as the sole Super Power capable of policing the world. And now we know for certain this not true. "Talk softly and carry a big stick" somebody said then, and as true as today. Sonnet's parents visit for Passover and we celebrate the Sedar, with Madeleine and Eitan vying for the traditional questions: "Why is this night different from all other nights" and so forth. Reading the blessings, it is hard not to observe Israel's relationship with Gaza, where more news comes forward about the war's conduct, which left >900 Palestinian civilians dead compared to 12 Israeli soldiers. Is Israel now Pharoah? I have always been a knee-jerk, and steadfast supporter of Israel and it is hard to be Jewish American and feel any other way. Yet, I met Katie's Jewish friend Phil Weiss in New York a couple months ago and he has attacked Israel's treatment of the Palestinians and America's powerful Jewish Lobby, which contraven US interests in the Middle East, he says via his blog www.philipweiss.org. Phil was once the New York Times's top reporter but became disallusioned and quit - he asked me, "How can you trust the NYT after Iraq?" and he has a point. Anyway, Phil is bringing his focus onto a local, and personal cause - his site has raised over $5,000 in micro-payments to attend the upcoming AIPAC and Gaza and this, he believes, the future of our news.

Mbita

Photo from Marcus, taken in Mbita, Africa, on his way to Malawi. Marcus is setting up blogs and video programs for donors who have contributed to his non-profit Sola International. Marcus is travelling with 12 experts and staff and his time has been chaotic, full of meetings, trips and travel for almost every minute - "trying to find a way to get to an Internet cafe almost impossible." He will join us Saturday and together with family we will celebrate his 4-0.

"The biggest risk to the project is our own thundering incompetence."
Dilbert (taped to my office-wall)

John

This is John, one of Eitan's three coaches at KPR. He is from Newcastle and the real-deal - despite a stern look, he loves the boys and would do anything for them. I've observed this on the pitch and at the several friendlies the boys have so far played. They respect him.

Sonnet's parents settle following their long-haul flight from Denver (Silver: "The flowers, Jeff. The flowers!" - sometimes London needs to be seen from an outside eye). Sonnet stops by their hotel on her way home from jury duty and she and Stan end up at Cadogen Hal to see the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra. The concert venue located at Sloan Terrace in Chelsea in what used to be the First Church of Christ. Lucky, lucky. Meanwhile, I take the Shakespeares to Waitrose to buy some needed dinner supplies (red wine) and, since this is half-term break, spoil them with sugar cereal. Their little eyes go wide with shock when I answer their pleas with positive (Madeleine: "Do you really mean it, dad? Do you?"). Unable to decide, they go for the tried-and-true holiday pack - a selection of Cocoa Pops, Fruit Loops, Frosted Flakes &c. in diner-sized boxes. This nets a fight over who gets what so we end up buying two. From there it is the ice-cream locker where they are allowed to select whatever - again, it beggars belief and they push their good fortune: "Can we watch TV, Dad? Can we?" and I say - why not? So yes, Dad is on patrol ..

Liverpool Street Station

Note: I didn;t particularly like my original posting photo taken with mobile phone. I replace it with this one - taken by Orchan.

Liverpool Street Station - the equivalent of New York's Grand Central Station in proximity to wealth - shuffles The City's bankers to and from the suburbs. It is the third busiest in London after Waterloo and Victoria with 123 million visitors each year. I note that movie Mission Impossible takes advantage of this cool moderno setting placing a fabricated CIA "safe house" above the Old Broad Street entrance where Tom Cruise enters the main line concourse to use a payphone situated under the double staircase. Dun dun dun. For most ex-pats, LSS is the gateway to Bishopsgate plaza which, like Midtown Manhattan, provides industrial steel and glass hq's for UBS, Lehman Bros (ker-plunk), Bear Sterns (ker-pow), Merrill Lynch (ker-splat) and other American institutions, whomever may be left. Buy your rent - cheep. On top of the station London's "Square Mile," the wealthiest pinch of land in Europe with the London Stock Exchange, Lloyd's of London (insurance) and the Bank of England herself. starting in the early-90s, many of the global franchises moved to Canary Wharf which offers more real-estate holding many thousands of employees .. it is also a soulless, God-awful area on the Isle of Dogs not far from Greenwich - feel sorry for the poor slobs who work there. The real power shift, in effect, occurred from my arrival in '97 as the money managers chose the West End - Mayfair and St James's own virtually all the hedge fund and private equity firms and why not? Much less oppressive than The City+night life and go-go right around the corner. Then there is the Wolseley and La Caprice not to mention Dukes. I rarely find myself in or nearby Liverpool Station these days and it kinda gives me the creeps - reminding me of my first couple of years in London when I worked for lbo firm Botts & Co. on New Fetter Lane ..

While thinking about The City, here is something to ponder: Americans are saving more - in the last quarter of 2008, net-debt fell by $100 billion or 1%. Yet net worth fell by $5,000 billion or 10%. As a result, debt ratios have become worse - to better them, savings and defaults will have to rise - or governments will have to keep up the stim-u-lus.

Madeleine and I await Stan and Silver's arrival at Heathrow - on time and hurray! - then, after dropping Stan and Silver off at their hotel in South Kensington, Madeleine and I have lunch at La Brasserie. On her mind these days? A pet. Our summer holiday. And living in California, which she would like to do now or when an adult, she says.

Wedding Dress and Marbreds

Madeleine tries on a wedding dress for Diane, who ties the knot this summer in VT. More to come. Here's something to note: US smoking hotlines swamped, sometimes by four times their usual volulme the USA Today reports, by would-be quitters following the largest-ever increase in the federal tobacco tax - a pack of Marlboros ("Marbreds" back in the day) by $1.01 a pack, for instance. But here's what these poor hackers are up against: 3% have success on their own; with counseling it is 16% and with medication like the nicotine patch - 30%. Not encouraging - how on earth consumers believed this nefarious weed - nicotine added accordingly - not a drug nor addictive? I recall like yesterday the seven Tobacco CEOs '94 testimonials under oath before Congress. They squirmed as much as I did knowing full well they were a lie. Not surprisingly when I was in business school around this time, Philip Morris recruited and the shadiest dude in my class took a summer internship - his comment then: "every company has skeletons in the closet..." Dumb ass MBA. Of more interest, PM presented at Columbia's Presidential suite - not even the Big Investment Banks or Consulting Firms did this - and brought their top-brass from Vice Presidents to the Head of North America who opened his presentation by saying (this the very first thing, mind you): "Ours is a legal product, and as long as it is legal, we will do everything in our power to promote Philip Morris and smoking." There was no mention of the lobbiests in DC or the cancer spread across our country. Well, things have improved and fewer people in the Western World smoke, excluding the French who smoke all the time God bless them. Thank goodness, then, for Asia where >50% of their populations inhale. It is hard to imagine how their health system will cope in twenty years when the health system forced to address the smoking related suffering. It won't be pretty, nor any of us guilt-free.

Lily Allen

CW sends me this cool pic from the Warfield the other night. Lily Allen is a controversial Brit singer who has made the world-stage; she is despised by some for her intemperate behavior (see Perez Hilton who cannot stand her) but I admire her pluck and independent spirit, which reminds me of Madeleine. Plus she's a girl in music which is mostly a man's world and I should know having worked for Jim Fifield, the CEO of EMI Music, during my summer of business school. Of course, Allen also produces beautiful and interesting music and her lifestyle - married lovers, drunk nights with a dubious crew and other various self-destructive habits - should, while not being defended, not be reviewed with a puritanical, snobbish and condescending eye which is what I see from Fleet Street and Perez (who for the record is a little prick but I cannot help reading his website www.perezhilton.com. Does that make me a little prick? Probably, oh well). The Warfield Theatre BTW an epic San Fran venue on Market Street built in the 1920s for vaudeville; it was the home of the Grateful Dead who, in 1980, played 15 sold out concerts to celebrate their 15th anniversary. Lucky Christian for living so close by - for living in San Francisco, for that matter.

On Barak Obama and Europe - what a thrill to see him. In one week he changes the perception of America. There is no fear of his miscue or embarrassment; he appears confident and, in fact radiant - and why not? He could easily win an election in any country of Europe and remains, by far, the world's most popular politician. Media takes us within inches of his various arrivals and I note how he treats the support - touching the door man on the shoulder or a quick comment to the security guy or police.. I also see him shake Sarkozy's hand with a strong, powerful grip similar to something on the street vs. a formal contact - Sarkozy, of course, basks in the macho glow. Michelle adds to the glamour and unlike that embarrassing, dip-shit, money chasing Jackie Kennedy Onassis, Michelle brings style, education, career and family to the Euro affair. Similar to her husband, she is somebody we want representing our country. Representing me. They've got game.

Redoubt

Wow - check out this photo by Chris Waythomas of Redoubt volcano in Alaska, which erupted March 31, 2009. View is to the west. Note ash covered slopes in foreground. Silver "glad we're not there." For sure. I recall that Stan and Silver arrived in Anchorage six months before the Great Alsakan earthquake on March 27, 1964, which went across south-central Alaska, ground fissures, collapsing buildings, and tsunamis directly caused about 131 deaths. It lasted nearly five minutes, it was the most powerful recorded earthquake in U.S. and Northern American history, and the third most powerful ever measured by seismograph; it had a moment magnitude of 9.2 and registered 8.4 on the Richter scale.

The quake produced earthquake liquefaction in the region. Ground fissures and failures caused major structural damage in several communities, much damage to property and several landslides. Anchorage sustained great destruction or damage to many inadequately engineered houses, buildings, and infrastructure (paved streets, sidewalks, water and sewer mains, electrical systems, and other man-made equipment). Two hundred miles southwest, some areas near Kodiak were permanently raised by 30 feet (9.1 m). East of Anchorage, areas around the head of Turnagain Arm near Portage dropped 8 feet (2.4 m), requiring reconstruction and fill to raise the Seward Highway above the new high tidemark. In Prince William Sound, a 27-foot (8.2 m) tsunami destroyed the village of Chenega, killing 23 of the 68 people who then lived there; survivors out-ran the wave, climbing to high ground. Post-quake tsunamis severely affected Valdez, Whittier, Seward, Kodiak, and other Alaskan Communities, as well as people and property in British Columbia, Oregon, and California. Tsunamis also caused damage in Hawaii and Japan. Silver describes the ground "melting underneath".

Dude!

Surf's Up

I spent the last couple of days in a five-star fancy-schmancy on the French Atlantic coast (photo taken with mobile during my long-run yesterday). So here is what the tour guide says of the town: "Biarritz a city which lies on the Bay of Bisca, on the Atlantic coast, in southwestern France. It is a luxurious seaside town and is popular with tourists and surfers." The city about 11 miles from Spain where we dinner at Michelin three-star Otzazulueta baserria considered Europe's fourth finest by Condé Nast Treveller. Of the nine-course meal, a piece of milk veal, roasted and perfumed with vine cutting embers stands out - the grey outer shell contrasts with the pink raw meat leaving an indellible impression, oh boy. We also have a tour of the basque country where I learn about its history - Louis XIX and and Louis-Napoleon Bonaparte major influences - and I buy three types of salamis from a local charcuterie and mon d'eau they are good - we picnic on them today in Richmond Park. Biarritz and its coastline offers world-class surfing - confirmed by my friend Dan who wrote a book about such stuff - and attracts world competitors. The Quicksilver Pro France (part of the World Pro Surfing Tour) held every September at nearby Hossegor. The best news of the week end Astorg, whose funds are performing admirably despite the economic crisis - Funds III and IV, where I am involved, have enjoyed exits and considerable mark-ups... and better, no surprises in '08 nor expected next year, budgets suggest.

South France

Here I am the next several days and I am dashing out the door after dropping the kids off at "breakfast club" (pancakes!) while Sonnet to jury duty - knife murder, bloody. I'm going to Biarritz in Southwest France and jet set, no doubt, so I have my short-short swim trunks, ahem - Italian style, and aviator shades, of course. There will be lots of work in between I am sure, yeah right - but really, the purpose is to see my friends at Astorg Partners and hear of their progress through these troubled financial times. So far, they appear to be on tops but we shall see. We shall see. I will re-engage this blog Saturday so mom and dad - don't worry. No need to call the police.

Run, Joe, Run!

Martin, my trainer, and I meet at noon to do a workout together. At some point I'll get a picture up of him - he's an intense guy, shaved head and serious character. My secret weapon, as it were, for the Berlin Marathon. Before Berlin, though, is London - in fact, the race less than four weeks away. I won't run London hard but rather for charity - as my faithful support group knows all too well. I cannot
thank you enough. Today Martin and I do a series of walk-jog-sprints and I'm feeling pretty sore as I write this; tomorrow, it is deep-tissue massage which is truly agonising so banish the idea of a refreshing experience or whatever those ladies that lunch and spa do - then Biarritz in the South of France for the Astorg AGM. If anything like usual, we will drink the world's best wines, God Bless the French. Sonnet stays home with the kids so I feel a bit guilty ... for a shallow moment, oh well. Truth be known, I would prefer to not travel at all (family holidays of course excluded) but since I must - at least I am going to European capitals instead of Houston. Or Cleveland. So I remind myself, as I do every day - life is good, and I feel blessed.

World Cup qualifier England Vs. Ukraine kicks off inside the hour - Eitan perched on the sofa watching the pre-game memorising, no doubt, people and scores. It's pins and needles for 90 minutes and the entire country tuned in. Come on, England!

Update: England wins a thriller 2-1 on John Terry's goal at 84 minutes. The team is now 5-0 with Capello.

Righteous

I dress up as a surfer for Madeleine's classroom to tell an on-the-fly story about made-up legends Frank Capatola and arch-rival and nemesis Spokane Aurora (Capatola BTW a small beach town near Santa Cruz where I used to boogy-board as a little dude). Somewhere in there I discuss Big Waves, the California Culture and of course.. surfing. Accompanying my effort, I bring in The Beach Boys "Pet Sounds" to focus the urchin's minds.. the highlight, though, the beginning when I strip off my shoes and pants to display baggy surf-shorts and flip-flops.. and then the wig and dark glasses+OP Shirt, straight from the late 1970s. I'm the first to admit not perfect, but my faux-accent ("duuuude! That's righteous!") catches the moment (I hope). Madeleine bugged-eyed and it is well worth the effort to see her proud, smiling face: yes, Dad is a weirdo, but he's my Dad... I ask her how I did on the way out, and get a big thumb's up.

Here is a link to a Stanford story regarding the university's partnership with Katie.

Floating

Here is a very cool image taken by Devi Gill, who I used to swim with in grade-school. So the Big News is Barack Obama, who arrived sometime today for the G20 and stays in undisclosed Mayfair for meetings in Westminster and at the Excel Conference Center in the East End. Naturally, protests have taken place since Sunday, and the general theme seems to be the Developing World, which must not be forgotten. I think also the Brits love a good parade - who doesn't - as long as they are not on record nor front-and-cente. Join the crowd! Otherwise, the President's car, fondly named "The Beast" at the January inauguration, on site to chauffeur Obama through town. A full-page Times spread notes the bullet-fortified plates, air-tight seal (for chemical gas or biological whatever), spike-rejecting tires and internal weaponry including anti-missile and machine gun. To get to the Excel Center, Obama will use the Air Force helicopter also equipped with the latest gadgetry... so all this begs the question: why in earth's name is the G20 in London instead of an off-shore military safe-site? The NATO headquarters outside Brussels, for instance, fully locked-down and near an airport. Save the tax-payer a buck, for Pete's sake, and let us drive in the streets.

I have been pondering Dick Cheney's recent self-defeating appearance on CNN where he told John King the country less safe now that Obama the president. Such unbecoming and unprecedented sour grapes and even Bush has, rightly, not questioned the new leadership - so why would the Vice President (other than the fact he's a asshole)? Well, for one - Obama a master at slipping in the knife - just ask Bill Clinton, then Hillary and finally McCain, who all merrily self-destructed whilst taking on the under-rated new-comer. Next, Obama allows his opponents to do the damage - McCain has nobody to blame but himself for Alaska. Finally, he keeps them left-footed. With Cheney, Obama fuels public anger re torture &c. by side-stepping a formal investigation - at the same time releasing information, primarily internal memos, that connect Bush and Cheney and Gonzales and Yoo et al to contraventions of the Geneva Conventions. While it's warm, it brews.. . Cheney, I think, now desparately using his last podium to change the story-arc; if not, he may find a gentle tap-tapping on his shoulder at some foreign airport.. the Spanish now debate, for instance, whether to bring the Bush cabinet to trial, in abstention, in an international court of law. How soothing... ahhh.

It is "checkers-day" and the kids allowed to wear black-and-white to school. Eitan draws a chess board and tapes it to his chess; Madeleine wears black pants and white flannel shirt which she otherwise sleeps in.

Dutch

I spend the day in Amsterdam and even take my camera - but only have time for this lame-ass picture at the departing airport. Oh well. Did you know that KLM is the oldest airline in the world still operating under its original name and has 30,118 employees? Wikipedia told me that. I do have time to visit the Rijksmuseum and revisit Rembrandt's "The Night Watch" and Vermeers' "The Milkmaid" which is so beautiful I well up for a moment. Somehow he captures his figure inhaling as she pours milk - simple, totally, and yet a perfect moment captured at day-break with light beaming into a shabby room which he imprints perfectly. Bravo. I also enjoy Frans Hals and Jan Steen; van Gogh has his own nearby museum but sadly I miss this time. So anyway, I arrive yesterday sacrificing a cherished Sunday afternoon to make The Hague (though Eitan, standing by me right now burping, farting and laughing his head off makes me wonder .. ) I have a meeting this morning with Jos, the head of one of the world's largest pension schemes by asset-size and we go head-to-head. Jos always contrarian, loud and loves an arguement. So this morning we talk about the state of venture capital, and whether it remains an asset class. The problem, you see, the last eight years when nobody has made a return, though if we go back twenty years from 1987 to 2007 (admittedly missing the last critical twelve-months but data not ready) we see that venture's median gross performance 16% and top quartile around 35%. This beats everything including buy-out, hedge fund and long only strategies and so forth. It also tells me that when a fellow like Jos this negative it is exactly the right time to invest in venture capital. Despite this little chestnut, I am otherwise unable to convince Jos of anything but this does not mean I don't enjoy our conversation - in fact, the opposite. It is the rare occassion I learn something private equity related that is not industry gossip. Jos may be difficult but he has been investing capital in Europe and North America in all strategies for >20 years and has lived several recessions and at least one bubble, so his opinion counts. Our two+ hours together I hope as useful for him as me.

Madeleine returns from Pizza Express.
Eitan: "What did you have?"
Madeleine: "Pizza."
Eitan: "What else?"
Madeleine: "Pizza."

Sonnet to me: "Hello, luv. I've missed you."

Me to Eitan: "What do you think people do at work?"
Eitan: "send texts and write emails?"

London Fridays And Prisoner Isolation

Eitan, for some reason, decides to read on the stairs - complete with blanket which was a baby gift from Spencer and Alex. Spencer was a colleague in business school who hit it big at a hedge fund but before he became one of the immortals we suffered our relocation to London, for our wives, by drinking vodka martinis on Friday nights. Wives included, of course. Those were good moments and we were full of London and its newness. Alex was on the fast track at JP Morgan before putting it aside for Spencer and their three children - they now live in Westport, Connecticut. On her I say: stay tuned.

So I am finishing Polish writer Lem Stanislaw's sci-fi classic Solaris - from the jacket: "When Kris Kelvin arrives at the planet Solaris to study the ocean that covers its surface he is forced to confront a painful, hitherto unconscious memory embodied in the physical likeness of a long-dead lover. Others suffer from the same affliction and speculation rises among scientists that the Solaris ocean may be a massive brain that creates incarnate memories, but its purpose in doing so remains a mystery . . .
'Solaris' raises a question that has been at the heart of human experience and literature for centuries: can we truly understand the universe around us without first understanding what lies within?"

I connect Solaris to this week's New Yorker story and isolation, which 25,000 US prisoners face in solitary confinement - in some states, as much as 7% or 8% of the prison population. Studies show, and POWs confirm, that lack of social contact for ten days effects personality and over three months presents extreme trauma and loss-of-self. The New Yorker's rhetorical question: "Is this torture?" Indeed, our nation too easily slipped into Guantanamo and Abu Ghraib but the foundation laid for twenty years when America began building maximum security prisons with isolation centers .. shows like "24" and violent mainstream media and video further de-sensitized us to our treatment of citizen convicts .. and all prisoners for that matter. Unfortunately and not surprisingly, these people are more of a (violent) societal threat when returned to freedom. Contrast this to Britain which has also monitored prisoner violence creep - the government here decided not punishment, but integration the best route and, in fact, environmental change dramatically tempers aggression. So America must ask: are we, as individuals, not equal to how we treat the poorest and least privileged? Are we making our society better or safer?

Redman

Here is bad-ass Josh Redman who plays Ronnie Scott in SoHo last week, selling out three nights. Josh was in the Berkeley High Jazz band with Katie, who was on the flute. Both performed at the Monterrey Jazz Festival and Casedero Music Camp, graduating same year and attending Harvard. Josh stuck with his music and now, famous in his own right, no longer needs his dad Dewie's introduction; Dewie of course a jazz legend. Sonnet and I saw Dewie in a rare performance at the Jazz Cafe in Camden some many years ago and I spoke to him briefly about Berkeley and knowing his son. The old man had a presence and watchful, intelligent eyes I recall. We have seen Josh several times at the same venue and others like the London Jazz Festival. He's one to be proud of.