Both kids love the ride, which supports the fire service. Sonnet and I observe Eitan who at times difficult and demanding while others a little kid who wants a stuffed animal, which he buys and names "Mellon Bellie Colibear." Surely he is self-aware and independence comes with a price.
Stan and Sonnet - red engine behind them. The firemen are here in force - serving up a pancake breakfast and giving train rides to the kiddies. Most off them have mustaches and I wonder why, whether New York or Colorado or wherever, mustaches go with the job? Any case, it is cool and I tried one last summer but chickened out before returning to London. I can say with some certainty that I have never met anybody with a mustache in private equity. Too bad to because it would be memorable. Silver and I discuss my industry's diversity and along with mustaches, minorities are also poorly represented. At the annual Super Returns conference which draws >2000 delegates there is not one black person I recall and may be forty or fifty women. Everybody has a similar Hermès tie, slick hair and glasses - in short, it is a mature industry. When everybody looks the same you know any inefficiencies have been wrung out and trouble ahead.
President Bush advises the US Olympics basket ball team that "a best defense is the best offense." This insight seen by like 4 billion people. Why can't he just go away?
Is Edwards the dumbest man in America? To think this prick could have been the Democratic candidate.
Aunt Robin sells her jewelry in Ridgway. She is a natural and people gravitate to her and her wonderful Southwestern rocks. The kids are excited by the spare ribs and train rides around the grounds. It is a local affair and the setting spectacular. Robin and Ray drive from Le Veta and they are surrounded by many people they know including neighbors who also have booths. Me, I sit in a fold-out chair, drink excellent coffee and people watch - certainly a different crowd from London and fun too. Their are teenagers holding hands (Eitan aghast), women shepherding their husbands to various crafts (Stan says "crap" and I "crapola") and families running amok. OK, ours. Anyway it is a nice day in a small town in America. We are privileged.
The Olympics open with a bang! as Michael Phelps sets a world record and blows out the field in the 400 individual Medley. He is impressively cool and relaxed - which must scare the bejesus out of his competitors. Could he be my hero? It is either him or Dara Torres, races one of the fastest relay split ever but it is not enough for Gold, which goes to Netherlands. Heroes are hard to come by these days and here are two bona fides.
Here are the little dudes doing their favorite thing: watching television. I'm pretty sure if we left food and water, we could leave the kids for, like, a week. Sonnet an I have a date last night at the movies - "Pineapple Express" (adolescent, violent - great). Two teen-agers baby-sit and I remark the divide - they are clearly not impressed by my orange cowboy hat and white flit-flops, though we make back some ground with our SUV as one remarks slyly: "sweet ride." Yes, to them, we are adults and I suppose we are too. Today we head to the Ridgeway Craft Fair where Aunt Robin sells her big and beautiful Southwest Jewelry. Sonnet now stresses to get us out of the hotel ("can't you do something to help us get out of here?" she pleads just now, angrily). And so I go, brother. We are outta here.
Goudy: "How many men have you shot since you became a marshal, Mr. Cogburn?"
Rooster Cogburn: I never shot nobody I didn't have to.
Goudy: That was not the question. How many?
Rooster: Uh... shot or killed?
Goudy: Oh, let's restrict it to "killed" so we may have a manageable figure.
LaBoeuf: I wouldn't count too much on bein' able to shade somebody I didn't know, fella.
Rooster: I ain't never seen nobody from Texas I couldn't shade.
Rooster: Baby sister, I was born game and I intend to go out that way.
We explore Ridgeway National Park which is about 7,000 feet and in Ourrey County not far from Ralph Lauren's ranch. The nearby San Juan Mountain Range has 14 of the 53 fourteeners (Fourteeners, Dear Mother, are mountains over 14,000 feet.) Among them, 14,150 foot (4,310 m) Mt Sneffel which is most prominent from our hike. The geography also notable for its layers - ridges - which back up against the blue sky offering various shades of color or darkness. The area is famous for the filming of John Wayne's "True Grit." There is a reservoir lake where we spend the mid-day and picnic then to the Stanfills for Stan's plum cake. Yum.
We take a vote the swimming pool and Madeleine exclaims "four to two - we win!" When I tell her perhaps she has her maths wrong she informs me that her two "buddies" (stuffed animals) cast the deciding votes.
I read V.S. Naipaul's "Among The Believers" which records his travels in the East shortly after the Iranian revolution. Naipaul is generally disdainful of Islam and worse, the fundamentalist who wish to return the region to its faith and yet are dependent on the West for technology, medicines and remittances. Our Pakistan fairs poorly and described as a country founded on hate: of foreigners and Hindus. Politics and progress sacrificed to faith and hence the perpetual ongoing military rule despite attempts at Democracy. The poet Mohammad Iqbal whose vision of an independent state for the Muslims of British India inspired the nation - yet he is criticised for denying the peaceful co-existence of Hindus and Muslim. Not all Pakistanies subscribe to Iqbal of course and when we were there in '97 many were openly afraid of the Sunni Islamists in Afghanistan (the Taliban) who had taken power in '96. Now they are in Pakistan's mountains.
"My belief is we will, in fact, be greeted as liberators."
Dick Chaney, March 16, 2003
"We do not torture."
George Bush, November 13, 2005
We visit Black Canyon, where a sign post tells us:
"Over a billion years ago, molten rock was squeezed into fissures forming the light-colored bands which form Black Canyon's otherwise dark walls. You are standing on one of these bands. As the hot fluid slowly cooled and hardened, minerals formed into crystals. Look closely; you may recognise flecks of mica, feldspar, quartz, and perhaps even garnet.
"These bands of lighter colored igneous rock - called pagmatite dikes - are more resistant to erosion than the dark gneissis (sounds like 'nice-es') into which they introdude. Consequently the pegmatite weathers more slowly then the gneiss. The vertical position of the dikes here, combined with their resistance to weathering, has produced the fin-like appearance of parts of the canyon's walls. You will see pegmatite at almost every overlook.
"The pegmatite dike you see across the canyon nearly half a mile away is the same one you are standing on! Imagine the cutting power of the Gunnison River."
Madeleine and I spend the afternoon together. More correctly, I beg her to join me at the Coffee Trader and she agrees only after being promised a treat (Sonnet stays with Eitan who watches a ManU video). At CT I suggest we go to buy sun glasses for me and she immediately pipes in "great! I need new glasses too." We argue a bit and I hold up three fingers -she replies "four!" and so it goes. At the optometrists, Madeleine picks out a green, octagonal pair - no indecisiveness here (the lens BTW are non-refracting). After the spectacles we go to Silver's hair salon and again she has a vision: short on the side with a fringe - which BTW I learn was verboten by Sonnet sometime earlier. The whole thing looks, well, a little Harry Potter-ish which seems reasonable as the kids have been listening to Harry every night since, like, forever.
Madeleine announces she is the Number One student in her class. Eitan, from back seat and side of mouth: "yeah, right."
Here is the boy in front of the Red Arrow in Montrose. We have a "suite" which gives us plenty of room to spread out. Mountain views comprehensive. It is family style fer sur and we are groovy. Sonnet will run tomorrow morning and gets out her kit. We plan on Telluride for the day tomorrow.
Here are the kids in the dying light - I promise one last swim before bedtime. This shot taken moments before Madeleine pushes Eitan in - water quite cold - and he scrapes his bottom on the pool side. He screams and Madeleine does the natural thing - runs to her room and peeks out the window corner. I pull Eitan out and take him indoors and under the sheets. His pride hurt, that's all. My day begins trying to get my US Robotics USB phone to work with Skype. It doesn't. My day ends plugging in a VCR to watch the Soprano's. After much agitation, it does. In the middle we goof around, buy some books and crapola, go to the Montrose pool where Silver swims every morning, crack of the dawn. In short - just like any family holiday: we spend a lot of dough, get irritated with each other, have some fun, see the grand-parents and then hotel together for Harry Potter and late bedtime. I plan to stay up most of the night watching the final season of my favorite mobsters. Long over-due, Dear Reader, long over. Due.
PS: Eitan has a water-gun which he now points at me for this photo.
We pull into Montrose following a six hour drive over the mountains ("Are we there yet dad? Are we there yet dad? Are we there yet dad? Are we there yet dad?.. . . "). We cross Monarch Pass, or the highest point, in a mountain rain-storm and have sympathy for cyclists, poor souls. We stop off at the Coyote Cafe, where we have been before at Highway 24 & 285. Our waiter Jennifer tells me she is from Minnesota and her husband New Jersey. After 9/11 they drove to Colorado and have never considered leaving. The idea of London is fascinating to her, as is the kid's accents. In similar vain, I speak to a check-out gal at Targets who is in her granny years - she is going to London with a tour group this month "but we won't stay there too long 'cuz it is so expensive." Instead her group will head to Stoke-On-Trent to see the pottery (I was not aware it is a centre) and I recommend the V&A and Courdault Art Institute. I buy the kid a stack of comics at the gas-station thinking it will be a distraction and yes, you guessed it, they fight bloody hell for certain issues - Spider Man and Fantastic Four seem to be the favorites. So yes, a distraction.
I nap at the pool yesterday and Eitan places a cheetoh under my nose to see if I will wake. "Dad it was there for like 20 seconds" he giggles. And apparently a large crowd amused too.
Eitan jonses for a football so we go to Walmart at 9PM after visiting Stan and Silver for dinner. He practices his ball-control skills in the isle. He has been on-edge for his Manchester United DVDs which arrived chez Stanfill earlier.
Here is Thea in front of her house in Dinner. She belongs to Whitney and Frank and has grown considerably since we saw her last. While the boys are at Coors stadium, the girls go for the mall and pizza and ice cream. Madeleine loads up and is satiated and content - I find her sprawled on the bed watching Harry Potter. It is 10PM, Dear Reader, or two hours past bed-time. We are on the summer program for sure. Sonnet packs madly as we prepare to drive over the Rockies, cresting at 12,000 feet. It is a scenic drive which we have done before - the reward is a natural s spring pool which I believe at 125 meters is the longest pool in the United States and grandparents. Eitan is way-excited for some Manchester United videos he knows await him in Montrose. The moving circus moves along.
Madeleine asks me to write our nanny Natasha: "When you come to our house (to check on things) could you please look after Astra because I did not manage to take her in my back-pack. She was too big. Love Madeleine" (Astra is a stuffed animal)
We are in Denver following a 6AM flight requiring a 3AM wake-up. Oh boy. We visit Beecher and daughter Whitney, who is Sonnet's cousin. She has two children who are super cute - ages 4 and 2 - and we spend the afternoon at the pool where the kids splash for five hours. Nothing new here. The evening highlight for the boys is baseball: Rockies v. The Senators at Coors Field. Eitan has never seen the game before and is excited - his eyes big when he sees the field for the first time on a perfect evening. Bill treats us and Whitney's husband Frank and we sit around shooting the bull and eating hot-dogs. Eitan, for the record, polishes off a slushie, hot-dog and fires, strawberry cone and candy floss (cotton candy). His face is covered in it and he is one happy boy. He keeps his concentration for most of the game but by the 7th it is all over. Besides, our side is losing and it is past bed-time. Including Eitan.
Eitan introduces a new game: fighting with hands-behind-back. Madeleine jumps in and the idea is to kick and trip-up the opponent, ie, dad. This lasts for about a minute or until the pain of a direct hit sinks in and I find myself scrambling. Away. In. Fear.
Madeleine: "I just kicked your bo-uls" (balls)
Here is everything I could ever want in a woman (in front of "8" at Indian Spa Resort). I learn London BTW is wet, like pouring. Last year's August was the rainiest on record so this would seem to be a good month to be gone from the UK. Moe is preparing his spaghetti tonight and the kids complaining about their bath - the first, I might add, in several days. I tell Eitan if he doesn't argue it, I will buy him all sorts of crap at tomorrow's baseball game: "I scratch your back dude, and you scratch mine." He replies calmly: "YOU planned the baseball game so actually it does not count." I then cut to the quick: "if YOU don't do the bath now I will get your grandfather involved" which seems to do the trick.
The kids arrive yesterday in a stretch-limo, thank you very much. We are excited to see them but I must say: I did not miss them. I recall a Simpons episode where Homer and Marge have the weekend to themselves and Homer loses his beer-belly, grows hair and becomes his former lothario. Of course it all reverts instantly when Bart et al return. Not that I feel like this, Dear Sister, but I have enjoyed time with our friends and beautiful Sonnet sans kids. The rest of our weekend is poolside or at Taylor's Refreshers which is the Gold-Star in hamburgers and '50s comfort food.
Driving to Berkeley after sad good-byes, the kids holler at the top of their lungs. I allow them to do so until I don't. Now they race around the backyard with Gracie who blasts them with the lawn-hose. They are momentarily fascinated by ants. Tomorrow head for Denver on a 6AM flight: bru-tal. Grace suggests we send the kids to bed dressed. Not a bad a idea.
Here she is at the Silverado winery. Sloan co-founded Sextant Partners, a successful executive placement firm which services the private equity and high finance communities. Today she contemplates her next business opportunity, which targets a similar theme, and we are all happy to provide our two-cents. She does have some expert advisors if I may say so myself: four MBAs including Mary who is Partner at strategy consulting firm Boston Consulting Group (a fun moment occurred at the Shramsburg Vineyards whilst tasting "sparkling wine" - in our group was a young fellow who had finished his PhD in molecular biology. Mary notes her firm hires PhDs "all the time" and encourages him to send her a resume. Cool.) Sloan contemplates her start-up against other commitments like school and family, but I think she is prepared to launch and I/we are all excited to see where it goes. Husband Rob founded successful a trade finance business. Bravo.
Friday morning we drop off the kids with Sloan and Rob's nanny and, sans kids, drive to Napa for a day of wine tasting and adult time. We meet Mary and Amado at the Indian Springs Resort, which exists since the 1920s and has both a family and movie star feel - there is a 33 meter pool with natural spring water and shaded lounge areas for the bathers. Cooled spring water, spiked with cucumbers and lemons, is found about everywhere and Sonnet and I indulge in afternoon messages. This after a day in the vineyards, mind you, so we are pretty er relaxed. Sloan organised this weekend to celebrate various 40th birthdays and we dine at Martini, a famous local where we drink more champagne.
Napa is an obvious pleasure source for those living in or around the Bay Area. Strangely, I did not explore here often growing up - perhaps due to the Bear Valley house or state drinking age - by the time I was legal, I was gone. The obvious striking thing here is the weather, which is hot and dry (it is POURING rain in London BTW). Evenings cool down so the climate year-round temperate and ideal in summer. Then there are the grapes, which fill every nook and cranny of everywhere. Spotting the valley are the wine houses, second or third homes and restaurants like Tra Vigne and Auberge du Soleil. Not surprisingly outside St Helena is the Culinary Cooking Institute of America and we present a collective bow as we drive by. I spent two years in Sonoma at Help The World See and while Sonoma has excellent wine and its own valley flava, it does not match Napa for le chique and style.
We visit Guy and Jeanine, Wookie and Moxie in Piedmont. We are treated with a wonderful dinner including perhaps the best pizza I have ever had. It turns out that the chef - Roger, and married to Umi and Guy/Jeanine's adopted daughter - cooks otherwise for Pizzaiolo. Pizzaiolo was started by ex-Chez Penise and is one of the hot new East Bay restaurants where Christian and I went last week before the Fiest concert. Beforehand, Roger flips the dough for the kids who love it. The adults talk about various stuff - Guy owns a big chunk of the Oakland A's so I am keen to know when the baseball team will move to Fremont (or San Jose). He is also advising the Democratic Party on security and other issues and the stories always fascinating. Before dinner we drink Chardonnay while the kids splash about in the pool and play with the pups. Madeleine tells Jeanine she too will have a dog "when I am a teenager", which is about right I think.
Sonnet and I have a free hour to walk around Berkeley and do some chores &c. We go to Andronico's which has the most amazing produce - the fruit & veg section explodes colour and there are 15 varieties of tomatoes. This rivals even France I think (Andronico's used to be the Berkeley Co-op BTW which was an experiment in communal purchasing and community). From there we go to stand-by's Black Oak Books, pass Chez Penise and end up at the original Pete's Coffee on Walnut Square (Eitan hovers over me as I write - he wants to watch Cristiano Ronaldo Top Ten Goals on Youtube. He also corrects my spelling of "Critiano Ronaldo). A real Berkeley stroll complete with mid-day coffee drinkers, a few hippie/derelects, elderly Berkley-ites and everybody enjoying the sunshine. A good vibe day.
Here is the cabin I blog about now and before.
Ah yes, here I am - a man in his prime. Still a few years from totally embarrassing my children. The day spent doing more-or-less the same: swimming - break - swimming - swimming - break - lunch - swimming and more swimming. And so it goes. Eitan and Madeleine never get enough. In the car, both hum the theme tune of Star Wars (Bum-bum-bum-bum-ba-dum-bum-ba-dum) until I turn around and yell: enough! Just like old days. I remember a fight between me and Katie in our teen years so vicious that Grace had to pull off the highway in Richmond near the Richmond-San Rafael Bridge. Grandma was in the driver's seat and quite shocked, I am sure (Remember that one, Katie?) On occasion I have considered taping a divisional line across the back-seat but usually the Shakespeares mind their Ps and Qs when I holler.
The fires around Yosemite are 40% contained, which is good news for the campers and evacuees. Evidently it was started by gun fire practice. I am reading a book on energy conservation and how we Americans can make a huge difference by doing little things: no running water while brushing teeth, turn off electronics after hours and do the compost thing. Moe has been doing this for at least 40 years BTW. Good lessons for us and the kids - most of my generation has no idea of their crapola and the planet. We gas, we shop, we eat - what is the source of this stuff that makes up our lives? and our connection to it? More immediately, what ever was in the red hot dog and ketchup the kids devoured at yesterday's Giant Burger? I am hard pressed to name even one item.
The day ends at Giant Burgers in Arnold. GB has been around since at least '84 when we began coming up here. There used to be a Giant Burger chain and I recall one at Northside in Berkeley which is now long gone. In fact, I cannot recall having seen GB anywhere in the past 15 years. Sonnet comments that the cheese-burger with everything is American gastronomy. When we arrived in the UK hamburgers (called "beef burgers") were still a novelty and diners used fork and knife. Sacre bleu! The kids go with hot-dogs and ketchup+fries+shakes. Classic grease and good for them and us occassionally. Truth be told, I have not eaten fast-food in years but am not adverse to it - a Big Mac, afterall, is candy for adults.
All of us together, again. This photo on the stump of the largest Sequoia in the world, which took over 90 days to chop BTW in 1885. We walk by the largest living Sequoia - General Sherman - which stands at 276 feet, has a 104 foot girth and a volume of 52,508 square feet. For the record: Sequoiadendron giganteum (Giant Sequoia, Sierra Redwood, or Wellingtonia) is the sole species in the genus Sequoiadendron, and one of three species of coniferous trees known as redwoods, classified in the family Cupressaceae in the subfamily Suquoioideae, together with Sequoia semperirens (Coast Redwood) and Metasequoia glyptostroboides (Dawn Redwood). The common names "sequoia" and "redwood" generally refer to Sequoiadendron and the coast redwood, respectively.
I get noticed at the pool BTW: "are you the guy with the orange cowboy hat?" a group of ladies asks. We discuss fashion - is the hat metro-sexual or homo? - either way, it is a complement. Poor Sonnet must adjust to my new style and, as I like to point out, "middle-age is all about not being boring."
We walk the Big Trees Monday - many of these giants have been around before Jesus, for Christ's sake. A photo is difficult to capture their enormity. The sign-post next to the largest Seqouia in the North Grove says:
"The stump continues to be an attraction to thousands of park visitors annually. It is a testament to the longevity of theses redwood trees that the stump and log are still here after more than 150 years (since the groves discover)”
Moe is wearing them. Purchased BTW in '89. Who would have ever thought so stylish? A nice thing about the kids now is swimming - they can do it so we don't have to watch them or watch them at least as closely. This frees up time for Star and People magazines, the occasional Cosmo (me) and other rags left by the pool. Sonnet is now on Harry Potter's third book which she reads patiently (and pleasurably) to the entranced Shakespeares.
Pictured- Sloan and Mary at cocktail hour. It is generally understood that while Dad is on vacation, Dad is also working (couple hours maybe) and blogging (too much really). Eitan and I play ping pong and he berates me: "you should have got that one." I give him a mean look and he glares back at me. Yes, he be competitive. And stubborn. Last night we had a kerfuffle over bathing- again. He refuses and I tell him ten bucks - the established going rate from the day before. The boy is so angry he can barely contain himself and refuses me money or bath. It ends with a stare-down and I tell him I want $10 as he has made his decision. We are locked eyes for maybe 30 seconds which is a long time Dear Father. He finally wavers then asks Sonnet to help him undress. I feel this a moment of some importance as Eitan has been testing his boundaries which has been rather difficult going - and out of his character too, I might add. While I may or may not have proved myself an above average father, at least the kid is clean. For now anyway.
Sophie takes a splash, which I shoot from the lake, treading water and hoping I do not drop the camera Adam-style (but this another, more expensive story, oh boy). Sophie and I have a romance as she gives me her attention and chooses to take our SUV (the boys are generally teaming up against the girls - an age thing really). Indeed, we are a caravan of three enormous rides and I feel momentarily guilty about the carbons but somehow appeased by the number of people and goods transported. Plus it is vacation, for Pete's sake. We ride into town looking like a presidential motorcade and I think about Detroit's dying days: an hour at 60MPH and 30 miles per gallon at today's gas prices means 10 bucks which is more than the minimum wage. No wonder Toyota taking over the roads - and thank goodness too. The real pinch, and one reason for the sub-prime collapse in outer areas like Stockton, is the cost of a commute. Unfortunately affordable housing for many in the Bay Area comes with a two hour+ trade-off - this may no longer be tenable for those already stretched and so the commuters split leaving their under-water house behind. Driving through Stockton (which BTW is presented, along with Florida, as the center of the housing crises fiasco) one sees endless rows of same-style properties. I rather like Stockton's simple, historical skyline but the 'burbs are ghastly. And now they are becoming empty.
Madeleine knows how to pose (I think). Anyway the kids think alcohol tastes "gross, dad" and I get a barrel of grief from the Shakespeares about my beer drinking ways. Recall, Dear Mother, that Eitan and I had a bet some years ago that he would stop sucking his thumb if I stopped drinking beer. Well, I am caught out on this deal but argue lamely that the bet had a statute of limitations which has run out. When that does not work, I tell them dad's prerogative given life seniority. When that fails too of course I use the time tested fall-back: "we adults have different rules."
Sitting by the pool, Eitan tells me: "You will get a punch if you drink my Diet Coke."
Madeleine, who has watched Star Wars Episodes IV, V and VI these past few days, asks me: "Dad, is it true that you have The Force?" When I tell her yes, it is true, she continues: "do you want to go to The Dark Side too?"
There is definitely at summer vibe at the Big Trees rec centre and always a sexual frisson between the life guards, all teen-agers toned and tan. Sonnet and I (mostly I) observe the flirting and looking - I recall too the cocoon. It is reasonably clear who is having a summer romance or at least who is into whom. There ain't much else here for young people's pleasures, for sure - but life is good when it is not boring.
On Rob's most excellent suggestion we drive to the lower mountains to visit New Melones Reservoir on the Stanislaus River in the California Central Valley, or about 60 miles upstream from the river's confluence with the San Joaquin River. This point forms the border between Calaveras County and Tuolumne County, home of Yosemite. It is about 30 miles or so from our cabin. The reservoir is huge - 2,400,000 acre-foot capacity - making it California's third largest. The stoppage was formed by the New Melones Dam, which was completed in '78 and built by the US Bureau of Reclamation for flood control and, of course, water skiing or tubing. I learn that the lake's depth is about 1,080 feet and now, thanks to the drought, is 100 feet below normal. It feeds the San Joaquin valley, the world's most productive agricultural land and without H-2-O a desert. We rent two boats for skiing and beer-drinking while the kiddies swim, jump and ride the day away. By the afternoon everybody beat-red (despite 50 sun-block) and happily exhausted. Sonnet stands up on her first pair of water skies and has the thrill of her life time... after me, of course. We agree: our white trash day a huge success.
Mary and Devon, who is a great kid. Devon is the oldest of three and these days his favorite sport is downhill racing which he does about every weekend in the Connecticut mountains nearby Mary and Amado's second home. He is also a swimmer and footballer, which he and Eitan bond over. Devon BTW is Eitan's self-proclaimed BBF and with brother Simon they have a blast rocketing about (there is a bit of a thing against girls right now but this will pass, oh boy).
I'm pretty much out of touch with the news and the world which is heavenly. I did see that Max won his libel case against News Of The World which I guess is interesting. Fleet Street is world class, God bless it, but goes too far on occasion - this why we love it dearly, Brother.
Here is the inside of Mercer Caverns. Without lighting there is complete darkness. Initially Madeleine wants nothing to do with the caves remember Wales but she joins in the end. The children as all sorts of interesting questions: "where do the rocks come from?" (Madeleine); "Why does that look like chocolate?" (Maya); "Is there any gold?" (Devon); "Is there any gold pylate? (Devon) This last question flummoxes our otherwise informed guide. From there we descend 208 steps - despite this depth it is not the bottom, where a breeze enters the caves providing oxygen and cool air. While there is general curiosity where the air source originates, it against California law to dig or damage the pristine below for discovery. Various methods BTW were used including blue smoke which, it was believed, would exit somewhere outside Mercer and provide the source. Fat chance, as the current kept the smoke inside and smoked everybody else out. Eitan BTW reports that there are only 192 steps to the bottom and if there was a bet I would put it with him.
Who is the center of everybody's attention I wonder? Grace has made the kids visit fun, fun! fun! bringing games and the Star Wars trilogy, which we enjoy equally. Last week she took us rose shopping and we returned to 1530 with flowers and plants happily placed in the back-yard. Eitan and Madeleine seemed to enjoy the activity and now they leave something of themselves behind. In the garden. I like gardening myself and England is the place to be for this particular pastime. The British love their backyards and there always seems to be a radio program on the subject covering winter chills, shrubs and various composts. Our garden is small and simple but I like tidying it up, cutting the lawn and clipping back the bushes. The kids just like the dirt. Back to here and dirt: they have not bathed in four days. Eitan flat out refuses my direct order to do so and I tell him what he will give me in return for The Missing. He proposes two-dollars. Then five and ten. I raise an eyebrow at ten which is a substantial portion of his saved $52. I note that ten bucks will get him ten ice cream cones, two DVDs or a CD. Says he: "ice cream cones are $1.50" and the deal is done.
Eitan discovers a new sport at the rec. Yes, he is obsessing (and pretty good too).
California is beset by forest fires including Big Sur where Sonnet and I spent our honeymoon. Closer to home, there is smoke coverage in Bear Valley at 7,000 feet due to an uncontrolled fire at Yosemite which has forced evacuations inside the park. The dry summer and lack of water hurt.
Madeleine and I are at the Big Trees pool not far from my parent's house in Bear Valley. We are at the pool because Eitan wants to play inner-tube water polo which begins at 5PM. Only we arrive at 5:05 and he refuses to play. So. We. watch the game and... he. very.. upset.
The Orensteins have been visiting this area since '83 when Moe and Grace bought the house with two families including the Sapersteins. It has been a fabulous place for winters and summers which is my preferred time of the year since I do not sky downhill (Bear Valley has several good bowls and recently purchased by Vail Resorts and expected to be expanded). There is excellent cross country skiing and this we used to do often but not since London. Scenic HW4 is snow blocked for four to six months of the year at Ebbotts Pass making us a 60 mile dead-end which gratefully has curtailed development. Today it is the same as it ever was but us who are a bit older. The kids love it and we are soon to be joined by our Marine and New York friends for a grand reunion.
Sonnet and I walk to Duck Lake in Stanislaus National Forest. We split the house at 6AM where, BTW, Moe and Eitan awake preparing for the day: "swim lessons, 10AM!" Eitan shouts. Our hike is reasonably tame - only four miles - but the views of the mid-sierras brilliant and the alpine lake is isolated, surrounded by ridge-line and a deep meadow. We end with a four mile jog and I may report that my wife is a serious runner - she weighs less today than when I met her and the London marathon has her in all kinds of shape. Also her stride has changed - faster and better form. She's thinking about signing up for a few races in the fall.
Moe and I talk about the law - he retired in '97 at age 62 and notes that the business has changed since he practiced. "We used to bill maybe 1,200 hours a year and barely kept track" he says. "Now a top partner is expected to do twice that amount." (Moe watches Eitan and Madeleine in their swim class - what joy, no doubt).
We receive a scratchy NPR on the radio - enough to know that the Labour Party lost their third test in Scottish burough which three years ago was soundly pro-labour. Scotland of course is where Super Gee is from. While many of the UK's problems are not due to Brown, he was the chequer while these problems were in the works - like Britain's borrowing where we are the most leveraged consumers in the world or the housing market which is perhaps worse than the US. Brown has also made a hash of things like the non-dom and ten "p" tax and of course the withdrawn elections. His ass is grass.
We arrive in the sierras Wednesday and straight to the pool, of course. Eitan has highlighted the pool activities which include inner-tube water polo, swim lessons and bingo+the snack bar. Both kids have been saving their bucks for one full year to buy nachos, ice cream sandwiches, skittles and M&Ms. It is borderline obsessive behavior but now it bears fruit: Eitan screams at me when I tell him no junk-food before lunch. I relent. Yesterday we go for a family hike on Emigrant Trail to Alpine lake. Madeleine complains the first half non-stop but I don't pay attention to her who-is-me. Eitan, on the other hand, makes several attempts to block our progress by refusing to continue. I continue onward leaving him to himself. Once out of eye-sight I hear the patter of feet and he is two inches behind me practically walking on my feet. Everybody happy when we arrive at the lake which is beautiful as ever. The kids ease their return with walking sticks and seem to enjoy themselves - we are out for 1.5 hours which is a nice break-in effort. At the end I tell Madeleine we will walk it again and she: "You're mad."
Madeleine announces matter of factly that there are 17 miles in an hour. Sonnet and I are a bit surprised and she clarifies herself: "Penguins walk 17 miles in an hour" she reports, from "March Of The Pengquins."
Madeleine takes off at Chordineses which, Dear Reader, I have been doing since 1976. The cool thing is to bring wax paper which really revs up the action. The next-door Berkeley Rose Garden has eight public tennis courts where many North Berkeley kids picked up the sport - I did anyway, batting a ball against a cement wall before I followed an endless lane-line down the middle of a 25 yard pool. Similarities I wonder? Sonnet and I have a "date" last night and head for a Japanese where I drink a lot of sake, thank you very much. Regardless we are up at dawn's crack to run the fire-trail near the kiddie farm - Sonnet is in super shape following the marathon and her training reg. She weighs five pounds less today then when we met in '93. Her body looks trained and beaurtiful and she has all the gear of the serious middle-aged runner = runners, shades, sweat-whisking materials... it is all good. Yesterday Eitan gets his wish and we spend two hours swimming at Strawberry Canyon. That box be checked.
Sonnet reads the kids Harry Potter and everybody entranced.
Berkeley is THE heart of liberal America - how could it not be? - and I have yet to meet one person who has a kind word about our government and the war (Moe is cautious in his criticism but it is there too). For many of Berkeley's '60s generation and my parents age, a life-time's work invested in public institutions like education or the judicial system or the environment has stalled or been set back. Oh boy. My generation takes these things for granted in large part because we did not have to fight for them - no civil rights movements, no assassinations... the '80s were Boom Times and distractions plenty. Today the apathy seems worse - at least no war going on during my college days - but maybe Barack will change this somehow if elected. Perhaps young people will go back to government instead of investment banking like I did in '89 when 75% of Yale's graduating class applied to Wall Street (I don't know about Brown). Berkeley too has gentrified and the hippies of then are the home owners of now and the properties here valuable: a house bought in the the '70s for less than a hundred grand is worth well over a million now. Telegraph has cleaned up - no drugs, comic book shops, pinball arcades or vinyl records like Rasputins. Despite such change the soul of this place is the UC which ties the community together as ever - for me, it is as simple as rooting for Cal football and our annual dogged cheer applies aptly to government today: "just wait 'til next year!"
Moe takes us to the Lawrence Hall of Science where I have not been since 1977. I am pretty sure of the year because my parents signed me up for computer programming at LHS and, on first day, I spotted Erin Oleigh who I had a huge crush on. Anyway, I chickened out and never went back. And so went my chance to found Microsoft. LHS is the public science museum and research center for K-12 education at the University of California, Berkeley. It's sweet and has all sorts of inter-active stuff which I may have enjoyed more than the kids. Now the focus is on nano-technology which makes sense as Berkeley is trying to become the Bio-tech center of the Bay Area ceding technologies to Stanford and the peninsula. Moe tells me that the leading nano-tech centre is not far from LHS and in fact visible from the hill-top which offers a wonderful panoramic view of the bay. LHS was built in '68 and reminds me of the early '70s funkiness and space agee programs like Space 1999. Ernesto Orlando Lawrence BTW was Cal's first Nobel laureate . He is up there with Pappy Waldorf who took the football team to three consecutive Rose Bowls ending in '51. Hey we lost all three - but go Bears!
Madeleine and Eitan way excited about the slide at Cordenices Park, where we be this morning. Eitan spies a football camp and is naturally fascinated - when I inquire whether he wishes to play he demures: "don't have my kit, dad." We watch from the sidelines and Eitan comments on "the skills". We then rough-house until he cries and I turn my attention to Madeleine and the long-slide - pictured. New glasses rejected by Sonnet but I get used to them.
Chordineses by the way is walking distance from my parents house and many touch-football games played their in my yuf. It was also a good place to get stoned or have birthday parties. It is adjacent to the Rose Garden and for a while was pretty run down but Berkeley has since re-invested in the park and now it is fab.
Eitan in the dining room. He, Madeleine and Sonnet arrive yesterday and I greet them at the airport - everybody happy and wired to be in "San Francisco!" they scream. We drive across the Bay Bridge to Bezerkeley and Sonnet makes several comments "only in Berkeley" as we drive by a VW bus painted flowers or the granola team planting shrubs in a round-about (this nearby Kee Tov where I used to go to camp - Kee Tov moved and it is now a theology school Go figure). Tabitha and her team come over for a BBQ and the kids hit the sack 8PM.
