Eitan and Madeleine pose for what may or may not be our Xmas photo (since this is not the Philip Johnson house and instead somebody's backyard where we are trespassing - hello! - the holiday allure is dead). We are greeted this afternoon by Marcia who has returned from Vermont. The easy plan for tonight is pizza take-away and television. Bedtime will be early.
We say our farewells this morning and hit the road for Bronxville and our last night in America. Sonnet suggests that we visit Philip Johnson's Glass House, an early work of his in New Canaan, Connecticut. Irritatingly, the $25 per person tours are booked solid for '07 and '08 and the in-town visitor center won't give us the address so I beg directions from a taxi who eventually tows us to a place which turns out not to be The Glass House but I take this photo of the imposter anyway. Beforehand, we have lunch on the cute little High Street and watch perfectly groomed mums, their nannies and totally hot, manicured teenagers wearing prada or La Coste moving along in packs. It turns heads, or at least mine anyway. I don't think I would last more than two hours in a place like this. At Starbucks, I comment to the cashier that New Canaan takes itself seriously to which he replies: "yeah, man, and you don't know the half of it." As I'm being served my dry, grande, light capocino a wistful mother-with-baby asks about moving to London. Grass is always greener, they say.
FYI - THIS is The Glass House which was probably 100 feet from us. So it goes.
That's me in front of the West Cornwall Covered Bridge in Cornwall, Connecticut. Litchfield County. The bridge was built in 1864 and crosses the Houstatonic River. It was not featured in "The Bridges of Madison County," Thank God. Nor does it have anything to do with Cornwall, England, which is the county farthest Southwest of our beloved Britain and home of famously named Land's End. It IS a lovely red bridge which has been servicing traffic, one way, for a long time and drawing tourists to the charming nearby town all year but especially autumn. Otherwise, Amado and I play our second game of tennis, which he wins 6-1 (my yesterday defeat: 6-0). Still, it is good to hold a racket a sunny Sunday. We end the afternoon swimming some laps at the club's 25 meter pool which prepares us for a final family dinner together on this visit. Rob, Sloan, Mary and I stay up late gossiping, googling people and dreaming of things to come and next togethers.
I ask Madeleine if she notices anything different (I've shaved my moustache). She: "Do you have new glasses?"
Madeleine in the SUV pipes up several times: "Daddy has new glasses!"
Honied yellow dripping gold,
Mary and Devon and Simon. Devon, the older one, has turned eight and Eitan looks up to him for all that he is - and especially his age. Devon plays football (check), is on the ski team (check check) and lives in New York City (check! check! check!). Simon bops in and out and the boys amuse themselves by "hiding" from us during our walk. Devon and Simon attend a primary school for Columbia profs where Amado teaches maths to 13 and 14 year-olds. He is well respected and serves as a confident, I understand. Without doubt those kids are in good hands.
Mary, Sonnet, Devon, Eitan, Simon and I walk the Pine Nob trail, which is a small piece of the Appalachian trail, which is over 2000 miles (3,200 km) long on the Eastern Seaboard extending between Springer Mountain in Georgia and Mount Katahdin in Maine. Along the way, the trail also passes through North Caroline, Tennessee, Virginia, West Virginia, Maryland, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, New York, Connecticut, Massachusetts, Vermont and New Hampshire. The trail was conceived by Benton MacKaye, a forester who wrote his original plan shortly after the death of his wife in 1921. MacKaye's Utopian idea detailed a grand trail that would connect a series of farms and wilderness work/study camps for city-dwellers. Our chunk is uphill for about two miles offering us a lovely view of the green leafed Berkshires (come back in four weeks and the colours do their famous change). We have p&j's and eat gorp before finishing up on an earned downward slope.
My photo of a mushroom (I think) on an oak. This was the only formation I saw like this today
I take this photo the only moment the kids are without motion - watching "Spirited Away". The first night, all share a bedroom with double-bunk beds and lay away mattresses making for a Late Night. There is too much energy to go around and at least half the crew chattering away at midnight despite threats and extortions. The adults, for that matter, are not too much better off and happily lubed with adult drinks and conversation (I groan at the morning after). The order from left to right: Devon, Jaimes, Sophie, Simon, Maya, Madeleine and Eitan. There has been a little jockeying between ages and sometimes a younger kid or opposite sex is (purposefully) left out but overall they entertain themselves nicely and with good compromise and cheer. It is fun to observe their size and change plus we have a good few years before they are teenagers.
On Sloan's marriage to Rob: somehow I am blamed for a sloppy attack he made on her at a black tie ball... but that is for another story and anyway I am happy to be a part of the legend. Sloan's Sextant Partners now employs 60 people while she remains one of the top-producing partners - this while cutting back her practice to one client. The girls immediately head out for an afternoon run and I await her mint cocktail martinis.
We arrive Friday at Mary and Amado's house on Woodridge Lake not far from Litchfield and less than two hours from the Upper West Side door-to-door. Eitan and Madeleine peel out of the car to hug Devon, Simon and Maya who they last saw in Paris. Stories of the four hour line to the Eiffel Tower are gleefully recalled then an afternoon free-for-all takes place in the backyard. Adding to the excitement is the arrival of the Sloan and Rob, who flew in Thursday with their team. Sophie and Jaimes join in the melee while us adults grin at each other and our kids. Our afternoon is spent catching up, jogging, canoing, dining and drinking vodka cocktails and beer. Rob has a go on the jumper - pictured.
Rob and I spend some afternoon discussing college football. He grew up in Columbus, Ohio, so the Buckeyes are a Big Deal - he frequently joins his friends at College Bend to see the important games. The Bears are ranked a place or two ahead of Ohio State in the pre-season polls and about ten below USC who again is #1 (ho-hum)
I buy three Hackey Sacks for Eitan and Madeleine - the third is back-up for the Inevitable Loss followed by the Inevitable Tears. Eitan understands that Hackey is a good practice for football and he becomes obsessed with getting the moves right, arguing with me and Madeleine on the best technique. Madeleine goes along for the ride happy to be doing what Eitan is doing (much to Eitan's discontent). Any case, I recall Hackey from about the 10th grade circa 1982, when Ivor Brown and a crew of malcontents picked up the game. Ivor quickly dropped the sport to pursue other Ivy League enriched activities like water polo to get in to Brown but there you have it. For me, I pick up the game for the first time now and suggest to Sonnet that this may be better than an evening martini and television - she chortles. We prepare our departure from Vermont momentarily and I sneak in this last blog from here.
World record for hackey sack consecutive kicks is held by Ted Martin with 63,326, accomplished over 8 hours, 50 minutes and 42 seconds on June 14, 1997 at the Midwest Regionals in Chicago, Illinois. He was totally stoked!!
This photo taken ten feet from where I write. No touch ups or other manipulations applied to the shot. I finish off the last of the chocolate chocolate chip ice cream and Sonnet takes the final slice of blueberry pie a la mode.
We go to a local working farm to see the pigs, roosters, horses and baby sheep which has Madeleine going "awwww" (I resist the urge to connect chops and bacon). Eitan is not into the scene and lallygags. "I hate this place" he groans. I think it is also likely that he is jonesing from a sugar high: blueberry pie for breakfast and chocolate cake with chocolate chip cookies after lunch. Ah, the holiday will come to a painful end next week. From the farm we head for the swimming hole then pizza dinner. Everybody is tired so we take the edge off with a Disney movie - the same one from yesterday and the day before. But hey, for Eitann and Madeleine - repetition is insight. For us: two hours bliss.
A quick read on London's weather: 55 degrees and rain. Bunk.
A quick game of Buggo is played this morning before clean-up, swim and my parent's departure. The object of the game, I think, is to match the insects and get the most pairs. In the background is a human skeleton - one of mom's mind-friendly presents. Madeleine's stripey night-gown once belonged to Sonnet when she was a kiddie growing up in Alaska - go figure. BTW the kids are so sick of my camera that the going rate for a posed photo is $2, up from (an undefined) "treat" or $1 in Colorado.
Me: "Do you know why we put on sun tan lotion?"
Eitan: "So you don't get a tan?"
A very sad Eitan on everybody's departure: "It is going to be sooo boring."
Sonnet and Gracie's pie from last night. The recipe includes blueberries, sugar, lemon, lemon zest, cinnamon and corn starch. The pie crust is Crisco, butter, flour, salt and sugar. Grace notes that the recipe comes from Mother Manning's (my Great Grandmother) "Fanny Farmer's Cook Book." It goes especially well with morning coffee.
Katie's friend Cara from the Columbia International Affairs school arrives last night for dinner and a stay-over. Cara lives in Burlington and consults world organisations like UNDP and CARE on their H.I.V. policies to eradicate the horrible disease. Gracie, Moe and Katie return to New York today leaving us by ourselves for the first time in a month. Wow. Tomorrow we drive to Connecticut to visit Mary and Amado's lake house and to see their kids Devon, Simon and Maya - a Paris re-union! Rob and Sloan will join us from San Francisco and everybody is way excited for the weekend.
I ask Eitan if he wants blueberry pie for breakfast. He, bug-eyed: "really?"
Madeleine goes the extra yard: "can I have chocolate cake too?"
"It is the hardest thing in the world to frighten a mongoose, because he is eaten up from his nose to tail with curiosity."
Rikki-Tikki-Tavi, by Kipling
Pre-Spider Man and the Hulk, which I collected with madness, I recall the Fabulous Freak Brothers found in the back-bin of Berkely's North Side book store which sadly closed in the early '80s. (Sonnet and I watched American Splendour last night about R Crumb's contemporary Harvey Pekar). Freddy was a creation from the late 1960s during a time of free love, Vietnam War protests, Berkeley marches and underground comix. The spelling of 'comix' instead of 'comics' helped differentiate them from the mainstream comic books available. The 'x' also warned the reader that contents was sometimes adult-oriented. From the off-campus book store I found "The Adventures of the Fabulous Furry Freak Brothers." Created by Gilbert Shelton, it featured three brothers: Phinneas, Freewheelin' Franklin and Fat Freddie, the '60s equivalent of the Three Stooges. The brothers were usually found in some form of wacky hijinx, chasing girls or running from the 'fuzz.' Fat Freddy Freekowtski had a tom cat, known as 'Fat Freddy's Cat,' who became a regularly featured character in the series. Fat Freddy often forgot to feed the cat, who would then eat his weed, shit in his boots or cat-claw the water bed. I'm pretty sure Grace was unaware that I was sneaking reads and hoping for tits (and utterly clueless about marijuana but curious too). Those were good times to be in Berkeley, a promise eventually fulfilled in the public school system-- but that's for another day.
Eitan takes a leap from a relatively small craig at the marble quarry. About Vermont: the state ranks 45th by total area, and 43rd by land area at 9,250 square miles, and has a population of 608,827, making it the second least populous state second only to Wyoming. VT is the only New England state with no coastline along the Atlantic Ocean and is further notable for the Green Mountains in the west and Lake Champlain the northwest. I have yet to see a black person or a person of any colour while the locals are hearty and just like those in Colorado: beer drink'n and reds smok'n (overheard at the quarry: "her nickname is Peter Pan b/c she is got so drunk she peed 'er pants" ie, Peter Pan- get it?). It's a beautiful place - more so in autumn for sure - and we are happy to be here taking it all in. Willie Nelson sings as I write and the naked kids play nearby with their buddies.
I stay up late - 1030PM - to watch Riding Giants, a tale of surfing the Big Waves of Hawaii and Northern California from riders Greg Noll, Jeff Clark (who surfed Mavericks in Norcal 15 years before they were "discovered" in 1991) to icon Laird Hamilton who caught the perfect wave in Teahupoo, French Polynesia - a once-in-a-100 years wave that was thought un-surfable and on film for posterity. The sport has evolved from the early, heady days of beach-bumming in the '50s and '60s to sophisticated tow-and-drop operations allowing surfers to ride smaller boards and 60 foot drops. Legendary spots include Jaws' at Peahi, Maui; The Banzai Pipeline, Sunset Beach, Waimea Bay - all North Shore; and of course Teahupoo. For me, I fondly recall expeditions up the Highway 1 where Dan, Adam and others would walk through cabbage and broccoli fields to skinny down cliffs for the breaks at Four Mile and Three Mile points (Danny wrote a book, "Caught Inside," about this). Sitting in black-ink, 60 degree salt water in a kelp bed often surrounded by fog at the dawn allows for some contemplation of nature or one's loneliness. But then the rollers come in obliterating life's worries replaced by movement and joy. Amen.
Photo of Twiggy Baker at Mavericks by Tom Cozad, Newport Beach.
Susan's Joey Jr will turn one September 14 and is a baby otherwise in motion. He loves crawling around and grabbing anything that moves and small enough for his mouth. He's also into stairs and coffee tables, where he will spend the morning walking round. I'm not the first to suggest that not all babies are cute - but man Joey is cute. It is also nice to see the love affair between baby and mum.
Sonnet makes blueberry pancakes using the blueberries picked yesterday at a berry farm. Blueberries grow on shrubs and are native to North America, Asia, and Northern Europe. I learn that Beginning in 2005, blueberries have been discussed among a category of funcitional foods called superfruits having the favorable combination o nutrient richness, antioxidant strength, emerging research evidence for health benefits and versatility for manufacturing popular consumer products. Anyway, we have enough for another month if not year. The kids want to take them back to London.
Grace brings a large duffel full of toys to celebrate the kids February and September birthdays. She also makes a Big Cake complete with new year wishes. Before presents, the kids are asked to seek out clues leading to the treasure - which they tear open with abandon. On offer are Tonka Toys, the Solar System model kit, construction magnets, erector sets and more. Madeleine says she loves her "boy toys" (we say: for boys AND girls) and the afternoon is made.
After my two hour nap, Sonnet and I go to the Vermont outlets (J Crew, Barberry, Banana Republic etc etc) for some retail therapy. She has spent the afternoon making her turkey chili, whose recipe has travelled with us from London. Perfect for ten people and yum! Eitan feels cheated because we don't make it to the swimming quarry but is compensated with a Disney movie . They skinny dip as I write this.
The Lee's house was built in the 1940s on Marble Mill Pond whose water powered the turbine to cut the rock. Larry's vision has turned the mill into a jewel with a living room surrounded by trees, water, river and light. There is not a dull moment as the overhead sun changes the vistas and white stone while the grassy greens offer a lovely contrast for croquette or kids. Bravo.
We spend the afternoon at the first commercial quarry in America - Dorset Quarry - opened by Issac Underhill in 1785. The Dig was the town's attraction and main interest for 130 years. Eventually, the Dorset Quarry struck H2O filling the 150 foot deep with cold spring water. Today, the quarry's walls present sharp cliffs for thrill seekers who dive 30 or 40 feet. Not I nor Eitan, who steadfastly refuses to go anywhere near those local teenagers.
"Goodbye, good riddance."
John Edwards on Karl Rove's departure
Dad at the crack of dawn. We lounge around talking about Trailhead Capital, clients and Europe. Moe is handling his parkinson's with class and his mind is straight and clear. From breakfast, he and most of the family head out for a walk (Sonnet goes for a run) while Katie and Grace read their magazines and I doodle away on this blog. Ho hum. Today, should it arrive, may include shopping, tennis, swimming or none of the above.
Eitan occupies himself this morning doing his sums on a plane white piece of paper. He tells Gracie that he is very sad "because I cannot watch television but Madeleine can." When asked why, he say: "Madeleine hit me so I hit her back but daddy only saw me."
I ask Madeleine if she has a lady bird in her hand.
She: "No, it is a dead centipede."
Me: "Oh. What are you going to do with it?"
She: "Bury it of course."
I'm up at 0500 during the false dawn when I take this photo from the pier outside the living room. The house is asleep and I try to find Diane on Fox News but am not able to work the satellite dish. Instead I do some stretching and have a swim. Moe putters around making coffee and then Joey and Susan rise for his early feed. Madeleine snores away next to her brother.
After a four hour drive we arrive at Marcia and Larry's Vermont house in Dorset and Eitan strips clean to take a dive. The red house has been in the Lee family since 1987 and is located on a secluded pond which cascades over a water-fall into a pool for dipping. There are ducks and beavers. In its commercial day, the property was a mill whose blades turned with the water. From the living room where I write (wi-fi!) I see the ridgeway, pond, distant blue mountains and dam covered by an arching cedar bridge. The rushing water is soothing and ideal for looking and sleeping
My photo taken on 43rd next to Grand Central Station. Standing 1,046 feet (319 meters) high, it was briefly the world's tallest building before it was overtaken by the Empire State Building in 1931. It still remains the worlds tallest brick building to this day. After the destruction of the World Trade Center, it is again the second tallest building in New York City.
The Chrysler Building was designed by architect William Van Alen to house the Chrysler Coporation. When the ground breaking occurred on September 19, 1928, there was an intense competition in NYC to build the world's tallest skyscraper. Despite a frantic pace (the building was erected at an average rate of four floors per week), no workers died during the construction of this skyscraper.
Prior to its completion, the building stood about even with a rival project at 40 Wall Street designed by H. Craig Severance. Severance increased the height of his project and then publicly claimed the title of the world's tallest building (this distinction excluded structures that were not fully habitable, such as the Eiffel Tower). In response, Van Alen obtained permission for a 125 foot (58.4 meters) long spire and had it secretly constructed inside the frame of the building. On October 23, 1929, the spire was hoisted onto the top of the building in about 90 minutes. Like the building's cap, it is clad with silvery "Enduro KA-2" metal, an austenitic stainless steel developed inGermany by Krupp and marketed under the trade name "Nirosta".
At the time of completion, the added height of the spire allowed the Chrysler Building to surpass 40 Wall Street as the tallest building in the world and the Eiffel Tower as the tallest structure. It was the first man-made structure to stand taller than 1,000 feet (305 meters). Van Alen's satisfaction in these accomplishments was likely muted by Walter Chrysler's later refusal to pay the balance of his architectural fee. In less than a year after it opened to the public on May 27, 1930, the Chrysler Building was surpassed in height by the Empire State Building.
Well here we all are on the lower tip of Manhattan. It's a lot of DNA, which includes from left to right, me, Larry, Susan, Joe, Baby Joey, Eitan, Diane, Diane's new boyfriend Kenny (former Abercrombie & Fitch model and now geologist) and Katie's new boyfriend Jeremy (former world traveller and now Asian Expert, Deloittes), Katie, Madeleine, Sonnet, Grace and Marcia. Our evening ends at the Oyster Bar (again) then Bronxville and bed by 10PM - or the same hour Katie and Jeremy hit the Blue Note in the West Village to see jazz legend Charlie Hayden. Woo Hoo!
Susan Lee on her bowl of ice cream: "I need this like a hole in my head."
Joey, here pictured with his creator Susan, will turn One in September. How time flies. His father Joe (and grandfather Joe and great-grandfather Joe) spends the weekend with us - otherwise, Joe has taken over the family business in South Carolina, which is now in its fifth generation. Joey is one cute kid and always has a smile or a cheerful goo-ga for us adults who ourselves are goo'ing and ga'ing. Since Thursday I have not heard the kid complain or cry once. This makes me think that Sonnet and I were derelect.
Tonight Madeleine happily tells the dinner table how "when I was two or three I took a black marker from Daddy's office and scribbled on the walls and on the bed and on the furniture and on the lamp. And when daddy found me, he said: 'stop that! that's my pen!' and chased me around the room."
Did you know that the "Big Apple" is a nickname or alternate toponym for NYC used by New Yorkers since the 1970s? The name comes from a promotional campaign by the New York Convention and Visitor's Bureau. Its earlier origins are less clear.
One explanation cited by the New York Historical Society and others is that it was first popularized by John Fitz Gerald, who first used it in his horse racing column in the New York Morning Telegraph in 1921, then further explaining its origins in his February 1924 column. Fitz Gerald credited African American stable-hands working at horseracing tracks in New Orleans: "The Big Apple. The dream of every lad that ever threw a leg over a thoroughbred and the goal of all horsemen. There's only one Big Apple. That's New York.'
Here is my cousin Diane - pictured. Diane has always sought the public eye and her talent was obvious from Day One when her lungs filled with air and let out a scream. I recall seeing her in the leading role in Anything Goes performed at Bronxville High circa 1991. In HS she was selected to the NY Girls State and played Varsity field hockey for three years. After Bronxville, Diane attended the Medil School of Journalism of Northwestern University. Today, she is the morning co-anchor for Fox News in Albany covering 0500 to 0830h (yes, that is the AM). The market is (guessing) 500,000 people and her day begins at 1AM.
From the Empire State Building, Katie then organises a sail-boat ride off the Southern tip of Manhattan around the Stature of Liberty (Eitan's toy well chosen). Our moving circus heads down-town and we meet London friends Tim and Kitty who join us for a sunny afternoon. We are treated with spectacular views of lower New York, which is oddly remiss with out the WTC. The sad debri-holes are clear and the Freedom Towers will eventually go up - contemplated completion by 2011 at 1776 feet. Eitan puts up a fight about his life preserver but Gracie prevails - is there any doubt?
Saturday starts with a massive ground assault beginning in Bronxville (Larry and I chuckle that D-Day was comparatively easy). Sonnet, the kids and I head by train for Grand Central Station. We stroll to the Empire State Building to meet Moe, Grace and Katie. Marcia, Larry, Susan, Joe and Joey (in baby-stroller) arrive by car to join us for a very looong line to security, ticketing and, finally, the Up Up Elevator. The wait is worth the effort and we are treated with a 25 mile view with nary a cloud in the sky (Jersey still looks pretty bad). Eitan and Madeleine beg for a Statue-of-Liberty or Empire State Building snow ball. We give in finally and Madeleine scores a faux diamond ring and Eitan takes The Lady.
My photo taken from the 79th Floor, where construction work allows for an interesting frame of the sky-line. I love the window-locks to keep out any burglars!
Here is the crew before the Natural History. Madeleine jumps to see the Boop-Pooper and tantalised Moe with her pony-tail. This morning Eitan goes for a full-on time-trial up-and-down the five flights of stairs to Katie's apartment. He does this 14X. Madeleine joins for 10X. That's 70 floors by my math ! and the stair climbers are beat red and raring to go afterwards. Never under-estimate the energy of a 5 or 6 year old.
Madeleine on her bad dream last night: "There was a very stinky water slide and somebody grabbed me and took me to the top of the water slide and pushed me off the water slide. I went down the water slide with my eyes closed and hit the water. It was very scary, but I liked the water slide. So it wasn't a bad dream really."
Grace: "See Madeleine, sometimes it is ok to be afraid."
We arrive at JFK Wednesday evening and head straight for Bronxville. Driving our enormous SUV, I get lost in Westchester which brings back many memories of before most notably an unauthorised, pre-Brown return trip from Manhattan with Dan Duane at 4AM... but that's another story.
In Bronxville we re-union with Marcia, Larry, Susan and Joe and Joey for a Big Dinner. The kids are wired to the Big Apple and finally fall asleep at 11PM. Friday is wet and humid and we randez-vous with Moe, Gracie and Katie in Manhattan at Katie's flat. After hugs and kisses for us and the grand children, we go straight for the Museum of Natural History and the Dinosaurs. On IMAX, we watch their recreation and Madeleine tells me "they are quite big, daddy." Glee's are heard all around when a brontosaurus poos and the narrator says: "we have many ways of learning from the Giant Creatures." From there we explore the museum to the blue whale where I take my photo of the giants battling beneath. Somehow this exhibit captures the spookiness of the depths. The family has dinner at the Grand Central Station Oyster Bar then catches the White Plains train to Bronxville.
Cousin Moire stops by the hotel bringing presents, home-made pie and magazines, God Bless Her. Sonnet and she catch up the last year since her wedding to Turk - this summer the honeymooners honeymooned in Tuscany. We are forever indebted to her when she miraculously arrived in London in October 2000 and saved our bacon following the boy's arrival. Those were sleepless times but all the more dear because they were so.
Bill and Susan insist that we see Denver's newest museum - pictured. I learn that the the original Denver Art Museum was designed by Gio Ponti and local fellow James Sadler in 1971 and completed in the early 1980s. It is a 28-sided, 7 story construction whose exterior is clad in bespoke gray tiles designed by Dow Corning. In 2006, the Frederic C. Hamilton building extension was completed following the design specs of Studio Daniel Liebeskind and Brit Probst. It opens October 7, 200 and is clad in titanium and glass. It 's pretty cool to look at though Sonnet and I agree that it somehow feels oppressive. There is no denying that it is impressive in scale and imagination.
Next to the museum is a lush grass lawn where I try to catch the kids and vice-versa. It's good exercise and Denver's altitude hurts. Afterwards we wrap it up with a smoothie and drive to our hotel near DIA for an early flight to New York and Bronxville.
We visit Sonnet's uncle Bill and his lady friend Susan, who writes a bi-monthly column for the Denver Post and is involved in Denver's City Counsel. Bill is a Venture Capitalist and a founder of the Centennial Fund back in 1981. Centennial today is one of the largest between New York and California. Bill's other efforts have been equally successful and his Silver Creek Ventures has returned 10X - easily one of the Great And The Good. Today Bill is pulling back from the investing business to concentrate on local activities including God and Country. On the latter, he testified in front of Congress last week regarding private equity and taxes - he believes they should be higher which is perhaps a unique view in the industry but consistent with his views for the six years that I have known him. During testimony, Senator Orin Hatch asks whether investors may flee the US to which Bill calmly notes that among his reasons for staying are Utah's many lovely mountains. Touche!
My photo taken at a picnic stop alongside Route 70 (I need to check the peak's name, which is on a scrap paper somewhere in the SUV which BTW after two weeks is a Waste Land). I do recall the height: 14,229 feet according to the sign post making what's-its-name the 14th highest in the Rockies (according to Wikipedia). Today we say our sad good-byes to Stan and Silver, leaving Montrose around 10AM heading for Denver and the airport. Tomorrow we fly to NYC to see Gracie, Moe and Katie and the Lees - my Aunt Marcia and Uncle Larry. The kids are amped and look forward to The Empire State Building and a private boat-ride around Manhattan, which Katie has arranged for us. Look out, Big Apple!
Madeleine on the highway: "Are we on the runway?"
The kids chant over-and-over-and-over: "Are we there yet?"
Me to them: "I want SILENCE in the back!" I threaten to put a tape-line separating the two, and am reminded Moe's 540 and similar back-seat skirmishes.
Eitan: "This is the best holiday ever."
I pose for Eitan. I'm quite proud of my moustache BTW. I take it from Sonny Crockett (Colin Farrell) in Miami Vice, the movie. A further bonus: if I move my lips in and out, it looks like somebody doing push-ups. I tell Sonnet that this is not the last time she will hear this joke.
We leave the kids with the grand-parents and split for Ouray which is in the San Juan Mountains and 40 miles south of Montrose. Ouray's rocky splendor and mineral hot springs offered mystic healings for the Ute Indians who lived in southwest Colorado for 1000s of years. Then the white man arrived in the 1840s in search of San Francisco and gold. Ouray's inhospitable terrain was not colonised until the discovery of ore and silver in the 1860s and in 1877, the Chief Ute Ouray was forced to sign papers turning over the land otherwise shared peacefully in and outside his tribe. In 1887, the Denver & Rio Grande Railway arrived and the town grew to 2,600. Within five years, however, silver's value crashed and the town would have disappeared - if not for Tom Walsh, who discovered gold. And the rest, as they say, is history.
Sonnet and I stay at the recently redone Beaumont Hotel, which was built in 1886 and hosted Presidents Theodore Roosevelt and Hoover. We are up in time for a morning hike along the Uncompaghre then head to the Hot Springs for a 5-star message and spiritual soak.
I learn that in Ayn Rand's novel Atlas Shrugged the protagonist's secret headquarters in "Galt's Gulch" was inspired by Ouray.
Sonnet takes the kids to Mike's Farm this AM to see the agriculture while I do some work and mess around with this blog. Upon their return, we go for a dip and Eitan discovers the Power Of The Force. Wearing his (over-sized)bath robe, we practice Kung Fu ("Master Eitan we are wise in the ways of the Kung Fu warrior" I say). He loves this and we goof around the otherwise empty hotel. This afternoon we will drop the Little Shakespeares with the Grandparents and head for the Beaumont Hotel in Ridgewood - an award winning, restored Victorian that has been serving the Rockies since the late 19th century.
Rep. Don Young, Republican - Alaska, is under federal investigation along with Senator Stevens, also from Alaska. Further discrediting himself and the state, Young was forced by House GOP leader John Boehner to apologies to his Republican colleague Scott Garrett from New Jersey. Garrett had the audacity to oppose an appropriation for Native Alaskans which may have included the Bridge To Nowhere. Said Don: "There is always another day when those who bite will be killed, too, and I am very good at that. Those that bite me will be bitten back." Though their families are not related, Stevens and Young share the same gene pool. Go figure.
Sonnet, Marcus and I drive through the Grand Mesa and the Uncompahgre National Forrest in a day that starts early and ends at Ouary, a small town famous for its hot springs. In the middle, we go off-piste taking Route 97 at Naturia which eventually becomes gravel then dirt. The countryside is red and orange and dramatic before it comes to a Dead End, to our surprise. We drive by Telluride, Placerville and Ridgeway which offer different vistas of the Rockies. Eitan and Madeleine spend the day with Mr. And Mrs. Stanfill, who reports that "the children behaved wonderfully." The main stop on the day was the Russel Stover chocolate factory - which strikes the kids bug-eyed. As for the Ouary natural baths: think "dangly bits."
The corn eating competition kicks off at 1430 sharp in two heats: ten men and ten women, head-to-head. With eight minutes on the clock, eaters showcase various styles from the famous "type-writer" to the more modern "shear". A corn cob must be picked of all kernals and contestants are not allowed to collect a corn pile, ie, they must eat the corn. The ladies share a three-way tie of 13 corn, while the men are dominated by Tiny, a 400 pounder who apparently has won as long as the competition has been held. Tiny devours at least 20 corn but it could be more as several ears are disqualified as "incomplete." His shearing technique strips the vegitable bare and nobody has a chance against him. Tiny competes.
The Olatha festival began sixteen years ago and now draws people from far and wide (all hotels in Montrose are full). Last year, 90,000 ears of corn were eaten on the day and this year the goal is to break 100,000. The corn is field-to-mouth in 30 minutes and is pretty damn good. I take notes of what I see and I see a lot of smoking, fat (obesity), baseball or cowboy hats and thongs. No beer or alcohal though due to insurance and family-values, I learn. The folks next to me consume french fries, nachos, syrupy donuts and smokes -- all before 11AM. The younger kids check each other out and the girls show mid-section, sans bra (I notice). There are some great t-shirts: "Kickin' bass", "Gun Control is Using Both Hands" and "Ain't No Red Neckin' Here."
"If I swore you were an angel, would you treat me like the devil tonight?"
Own lyrics by The Vigil Brothers Band, on the Big Stage today
The Olathe Sweet Corn Festival is today and we make tracks for the Big Show. Olathe is a small town surrounded by, yes, corn fields and ten minutes down the road from Montrose. The day kicks off with the local banks pancake breakfast then transitions over to the football field for the main action. The grounds open at 10AM and some 25,000 people will pass through the welcome gates. The Big Draw this year is country singer LeAnn Rimes, who has soled 37 million records since her debut album "Blue" when she was thirteen. She's now 24 and smokin'. Free BBQ and boiled corn is on offer from sun-up to sun-down and we find a spot on the main field under a sun umbrella but near the main stage. Food stalls, games and commercial stalls surround the turf. The Army has a visible presence hosting a wall-climb and recruiting booth. Madeleine pigs out on a double scoop of strawberry.
Sonnet's mother received her nick-name, so the story goes, during her birth when Mary D yelled "Hi-Ho Silver!" and the rest is history. She tells me that her outfit includes the two words in the english language which do not rhyme: orange and silver. Sonnet joins Silver for her Friday Ladies-That-Lunch in downtown Montrose. This is a power-center of the community, as far as I can tell, and offers a liberal oasis in an otherwise gun toot'n, Republican vot'n Colorado which BTW otherwise went Demo in '04. I take the kids to - you guessed it! - the p-0-0-l. We get some adult time with Marcus this evening as Stan baby-sits and we go to the movies. Hoo-ray!
Marcus is in from Seattle to see family and regard his fast growing nephew and niece. During the past several years, Marcus has lived in Kathmandu and Kabul, Afghanistan, where he built grade schools for women. This results in a general discussion on Interesting Jobs and Marcus enjoyed a Whopper: transitioning to Seattle, he drove Ronald McDonald, in complete costume, around the state for $16 an hour. Ronald was unable to drive because of his Red Shoes and his contract required him in costume. Plus their Honda had McDonald's decals on the sideboards. The duo would pull into a (small) town and were usually greeted by loud cheers from screaming children packing into a restaurant. On occasion, the franchise owner would not promote the ticket so on entrance adults would turn their heads to see -- what? their strangest dream come true? Now Marcus is a graphics designer and living the good life in WA.
Phil Moyers reports that 45% of Americans support the impeachment of George Bush for wiretapping.
