Obelisk

I find a strange black obelisk in the V&A courtyard at the center of the museum, which immediately brings Arthur C. Clarke to mind. In this instance, it shines various shapes, patterns and lines and draws a hypnotised audience who watch the colors dance off the wading pool. Cool. Eitan, meanwhile, could care less and in a flash has his shoes off and runs sprints on the lawn - he's been inside the museum for 20 minutes, you see. Any ways the sculpture presents no information on itself, nor am I able to find anything on the V&A's website- maybe Sonnet can help us?

The Victoria & Albert Museum really is fabulous - not your typical showing painting and antiquities, no sir. It is the world's largest museum of decorative arts and design, housing a permanent collection of over 4.5 million objects. Named after Prince Albert and Queen Victoria, it was founded in 1852, and has since grown to now cover some 12.5 acres and 145 galleries. Its collection spans 5000 years of art, from ancient times to the present day, in virtually every medium, from Europe, North America, Asia and North Africa. Sonnet has her place too and it gives me great pride to walk around the Fashion Gallery with the kids who ask questions about her displays: "Why did you pick that one, mom?" asks Madeleine looking at a pink track suit. Eitan runs past the fancy lingerie when I ask him his favorite pair of pants. Otherwise there is the "Magnificence of the Tsars" described as "the grandeur of Imperial Russia is captured in this display of the dress and uniforms of Emperors and officials of the Russian court. Starting in the 1720s with the lavishly embroidered coats and elaborately patterned silk banyans from the wardrobe of Tsar Peter II, the display spans a period of almost two centuries." I hear a lot of Russian spoken.

Scooting Along

Madeleine zips along on her wheels, a holiday gift to both kids from Natasha. I feel a tad better than the following photograph, thank goodness. Otherwise I straighten out my office for the conclusion of '08 - a good year all around. This the first time I can remember that I do not have a tail-end project or something Big to dig into for the New Year, which a reflection of the times really. Private equity, once thought to be sheltered from the financial mess due to the industry's long-term nature, is going to take it on the chin thanks the the abundence of leverage. The three components of making money from a buy-out (ie, buying out a portion of a company's shareholding; usually the majority or controlling portrion) are earnings growth, multiple expansion (for example, one buys this year for 6X cash-flow then sells next year for 7X), and debt. Well, earnings will be mired down in the recession and multiples have thanks to a direct correlation with the stock markets (private company valuations of course benchmarked to public markets and m&a). Leverage is also gone (credit crisis deary) and in fact now a considerable problem. Many deals have been done with four or five parts debt for each equity, meaning companies are under pressure to make their interest and principal payments in an economic slowdown. If they break their bank covenents, then the equity becomes nothing. Unfortunately the "perfect storm" may reach shore sometime next year and many privately owned, well known businesses will be forced to restructure in bankruptcy or disappear. In the UK, private equity is the largest employer, after government, accounting directly for >1.1 million jobs or 8% of the private sector, according to the British Venture Capital Assoc. Indirectly, these numbers are much bigger.

Self Portait I

Here is your blimied reporter getting over a cold and out with the kiddies on a cold-afternoon. It ain't pretty. I am reminded of those early parental years and occassional late nights out netting a hangover and push-stroller at some God awful hour of the morning. There was no way I was pulling a roll-over given my companion a working mother. Words unsaid: "you got yourself into this mess... " Ah, yes we have come a a long way (baby).

Reeds and Recession

Yesterday I take the Shakespeares to Richmond Park at Madeleine's request to pick reeds and grass for home-made Christmas wreaths - you know, a Martha Stewart projé and same as last year. Armed with bags and scooters, we head into the park's middle where it is agreed the best picking may be had. Sonnet uses her afternoon to attend last minute manicures and a shopping or two. The sun sets early giving us long-shadows and we reward our hard work with hot chocolate by the car-park.

The retailers are in for it this season and 375 high street brands are reported to be on the tip. This includes ten or so of the "iconic" shops which have been around forever and nobody would imagine life without. The sales, which usually begin Boxing Day have started early and many stores offer 75% mark-downs. Ouch. With the recession we will eventually lose many services held dear and shopping is only the beginning I fear. Invevitably there will be cut backs in recycling, schools maybe policing and other local council dependent activities. Britain's unemployment reached 1.87 million active-seekers last week it was announced, which excludes those who have given up looking. Radio 4 presents a spirited debate regarding students and drinking - apparently, on average, three study nights a week - given these times, Radio 4 asks, should our youngsters rather get a job or defer their studies given a family's financial duress? Yes, these are hard times with worse to come but much to be grateful for too - kids, art, and being alive. Praise Jesus, life is good.

School's Out!

The kids have their last day of school Friday leaving them with a three week break and us a lot of work to keep them entertained. But this is our pleasure. The last few days of school saw in-class movies, extra "golden-time" and parent-teacher gifts awknowledging the teacher's hard work. And they put their hearts and minds into our children - between teaching, correcting, planning and extra-curriculars like plays and football it is easily >60 hours per week. More importantly ours love their classroom and it shows both in them and Eitan and Madeleine, who feel safe, secure and challenged. This really all a parent can ask for. Eitan BTW has his mind set on St Paul's for secondary which is London's best private school for boys - it is also requires an interview and exams. The school is in our neighborhood just across the Hammersmith Bridge on the Barnes side. It is good to have goals, no doubt, and as always we encourage him to be his best. Can he perform a hat trick: St Paul's, Oxford or Ivy and Manchester United?

Eitan gives me an early Christmas card with a poem by him. They have been studying iambics and such in class and he has been interested lately in his word use+his vocabulary is really taking off. Here is what he wrote me in his card:

"Snow causing a halo over houses,
Mornings chilled and bitter cold.
Pink noses, trembling hands,
Warmth scarce because summer is band (sic),
People hastily lumbering to home,
Specles (sic) of rain scattering glasses,
Kids seeing warmth passes"

Ben Nevis

Pity the Brits, who don't have a really good mountain to fortify their self-image. This morning I listen to a BBC reporter at 300 feet altitude (it was reported) interviewing a mountain "expert" about the perils of climbing this time of year. On queue, he presents a pick-ax for "those tricky situations" noting slyly that "one must know how to use one [a pick axe] properly in an adverse situation." From there, we are told, how to use a pick axe. And crampons. The only trouble being: Ben Nevis (here, pictured with the local bus heading for the top) is our highest mountain at 1,344 meters. No doubt it is a handsome pile and lovely to walk especially in the summer-time when one can have a cup of tea at the summit (OK, this a bit rich- the summit was manned all year 'round from 1883 to 1904 while today the station remains presenting an opportunity for Starbucks. No kidding- 100,000 ascents per year- ka ching). The mountain is located at the western end of the Grampian Mountains in the Lochaber area of Scottland near Fort Williams, which Sonnet and I know all too well. We went their for Eitan's first birthday assuming the overnight Caladonian Sleeper departing London's Euston station would somehow be romantic. It wasn't. Back to Ben Nevis: I intended to hike to the top with Eitan in a toddler backpack - this despite the pouring September rain. Fortunately I somehow came to my senses (Sonnet) and we did local walks and there are some marvelous photographs of me and Sonnet in ponchos pushing about a rather confused Eitan in a water cloaked buggy. Our broadaster winds up by telling us: "be prepared for some blustery weather and whatever you do, make sure to take care if you are out in the wilderness." (Photo uncredited from the www)

Christ Church Tower

It is the holiday season and there is Jesus on the mind. Last night, Eitan and his school chums belt out holiday cheer to the pride of the parish, school and community. Sonnet, Madeleine and I arrive early to secure a front seat but the church is packed on arrival - I spot all the mums, dads, teachers and importants milling about us (something reminds me of "Dubliners") and it is indeed a lovely show: candles light the hall and the children's voices mostly in key fill the space+we are treated with descriptions of the Three Wise Men and other things I tune out. We are also entertained by a flute, recorder and trumpet recitals, which are so bad that I try hard not to laugh - not easy either during the trumpets. Sonnet and I take Eitan, flushed with his triumph, home and we watch the tail-end of a EUFA Cup qualifier while Sonnet makes a late dinner.

The tower, pictured, is located across the street from the primary and was built in 1860 in ragstone, with Ashlar dressings and plain tiled roof. It consists of chancel, nave, aisles, with an attached tower to the south-east, vestries and a new extension to the north-east. Picture by Jim Linwood.

Madeleine: "Dad, if I have to make my bed I won't be giving you a kiss."

"I know what I believe. I will continue to articulate what I believe and what I believe - I believe what I believe is right."
W., Rome, July 22, 2001

Funny Cat

I change the image of a cat's head in green fruit to this one - which is funnier I think. I was trying to find something like "chuck the cat from a window" on Google but nothing useful came up.

It turns out that laughter can ease pain and help fight disease by increasing natural killer cell activity in blood and free radical-scavenging capacity in saliva, as well as lowering levels of the stess hormone cortisole, the NHS reports. It is also thought that laughter causes the release of special neurotransmitter substances in the brain, endorphins, that help control pain. And there are more direct physical effects of laughter, including increased breathing, more oxygen us and higher heart-rate. It does make me wonder when laughing became an unusual activity - watching the playground it is clear that children laugh all the time but adults- rarely. The change, I think, between 6th and 7th grades or pre-school and Jr High - of course by the teen years nothing is funny, oh boy. Most of the time I find most things funny but it does depend on my mood. Chicken and egg perhaps?

My Top-Ten Funny Movies:
10. Play It Again Sam
9. Fast Times At Ridgmont High
8. Stripes
7. Animal House
6. Groundhog Day
5. Raising Arizona
4. There's Something About Mary
3. Clerks
2. Kingpen
1. Annie Hall

Eitan and Madeleine's Top Cartoons That I Can Remember:
Ratatouille
Over The Hedge
Madagascar I and II
Kung Fu Panda
Ice Age I and II
101 Dalmations
Lady & The Tramp
Cinderella
Monster's Inc.
Golden Compass
Magic Round About (awful)
Shrek I, II and III
Space Chimps (ghastly)
Harry Potter
Harry Potter
Harry Potter
Harry Poter

White Cap - The Pill

Here's your faithful author in his white cap. It is cold though the world continues to hot up: the BBC reports that for the first-time anyone can remember there is no snow in Moscow. The bears aren't hibernating and the Russians, who pride their sub-freezing climate, are worried - even Leader-For-Life Putin addresses the temperatures during yesterday's press conference: "only God can bring the cold" winks Putie, implying that even he cannot change the climate. More worrying, The Independent tells us the "Arctic melt passes the point of no return" faster than predicted and warming the world's seas. Really, with Iraq, suicide bombings, financial melt-downs, Bernard Medoff, Mombai... it does feel like things are, er, out of hand. No wonder an Iraqi journo threw a shoe at Bush calling him a dog- a very grave insult coming from an Arab. Frankly the fellow has the right idea: we all await the boot in el President's backside on his way out the door. Me, I go about my routine: wife, kids, exercise, work.

I am reminded that five years ago I met Dr Gregory Pincus at a party in Bayswater. We were invited by Sonnet's friend Vicortia who was visiting London to research the use of furniture and the use of interiors by the Bloomsbury Group which was the artistic and litterary circle of the day including Virgina Wolf and many others. Victoria was way cool and sadly we have lost touch with her. Any case, Pincus we all know is famous for his 1954 invention Enovid, which would eventually pass FDA approval to be sold as the world's first contraceptive pill. What was unusual about Pincus was that he exists at all - I mean, one does not expect to meet somebody who helped engineer the sexual revolution and all that (+ a product you know your sister, mom and friends all have used at some point egad). Pincus then was very matter of fact and up front about it all: when asked what he does, he replies "Nothing, really, but I did once invent the pill." Salut!

Motion

Eitan and Madeleine yesterday at the commons nearby our house. There are a number of dads on the pitch with the same idea: get the monsters out of the house! Madeleine is fixed on 'headers' and pleads with me to toss the ball at her, well, head while Eitan wants to do 'penalty kicks.' Neither like my coaching which includes jogs around the park, fast-breaks and ball-control including running around a chalked-circle with left then right foot kicks (secretly I think this extra-credit a reason both excell in their pee-wee league). I love this photo for its motion - Eitan and Madeleine moving moving moving and it is a joy to be around their enthusiasm (when it is not turned on each other in, er, a negative way. Sometimes I turn a corner and find them fighting which is a new thing). Madeleine BTW had the school Christmas production last week and our gal bellowed forward the opening lines: "Once upon a Christmas Eve, all across the land, all the children were waiting for a very special man!" Everybody claps, most of all me and Sonnet, sitting in the front-row thanks to Sonnet's earliest arrival. We then endure another hour and a quarter of five and six-year olds singing Christmas and Baby Jesus but I do otherwise enjoy catching Madeleine's eye - she is over-joyed to have us there and the joy shared equally by us.

This morning I am up and outta the house for an hour of walking and then 90 minutes of killer yoga leaving me twisted and dehydrated but feel'n happy. Who needs drugs, really. Unfortunately otherwise I am fielding a running injury - this time left calf - so I am forced, once again, to do alternatives to the sport I enjoy most. Running, Dear Friend, is about the dumbest thing a middle-aged fellow can do. The repetitive pounding or >800 steps per mile at three time's body weight almost insures frustration. Stan bucks the trend and is out there every morning come rain, sleet or shine demonstating he is an exceptional athlete. Impressive all the way.

Disco Party

Friday sees the kids in the school-hall dancing their hearts out. This is the annual disco and the classes broken into managable time-slots including Head Teacher Mrs. Z boogying away. Deputy Head Mr. W serves as House MC and the kids red and perspired by pick-up- pictured (no adults allowed otherwise). In this instance, Natasha performs the honors as Sonnet and I out drinking champagne (Ok, only me and the champagne) with friends then a late dinner just us in Barnes. Yes, we hold hands and look into each-other's eyes. After >15 years I am unabashadely in love with my wife. Mostly we talk about the kids+my US trip and family dynamics - are they ever easy? I note that Madeleine going through a phase where she comps herself relentlessly to Eitan. No doubt he knows how to get her goat but she over-reacts every time and it is no fun for any of us. Any suggestions on how to prevent a life-long habit welcome. Oh brother. Otherwise I spend much of the weekend recovering from late nights out+Kooks+residual fatigue from my trip. These transglobal flights take their toll outta me - I mean, humans were simply not meant to get into a metal tube and - presto! ten hours on - the other side of the planet. Imagine (for a moment) if Earth the same size as, say, Jupitor (>300X earth's mass). It would take eleven or twelve days on a 777 to circle half the globe (London to San Fran) though catching one of Jupiter's wind- streams, which blow > 375 mph, would cut the time by half. Thank goodness for that. Anyway whatever, I sleep all day Saturday and much of Sunday - kids observe me with some curiosity yet well-content with their holiday television and Sonnet, who takes them Christmas tree shopping and other entertainments, God bless her.

"This ain't no party, this ain't no disco
this ain't no fooling around
No time for dancing, or lovey dovey
I ain't got time for that now"
David Byrne - Life During Wartime

Kelly

Here is Kelly, who I have known since First Boston circa 1990. We have remained friends ever since often laughing about our financial boot-camp (or gulag, he might say). Kelly is the only Iowan I know and - surprise! - he was a nationally ranked wrestler competing Varsity at Harvard. Despite his size (6'2" maybe) he is light on his toes. Ever since he joined Goldman Sachs after Wharton I have taken to calling him "Big Time." On this visit, we re-union with Todd, also a First Boston alum in the Financial Institions Group. Then, FIG was one of the firm's busiest and therefore a pressure-cooker; also the senior guys were either stressed or miserable or both (usually both). But hey, we were playing in the Major Leagues fresh out of college+getting paid then what seemed like a fortune ($29,400 base+$10,00 bonus). In 1989, the year that >75% of Yale's graduating class applied to Wall Street, First Boston took 70 Analysts from >50,000 resumes. Why they took me, who knows? but I was later told I was their #1 recruit probably because I had actually done some business in college- I ran a contracting business with 30 painters in Providence, RI. Katie also knows Kelly from Harvard and after dinner we drink his wine and swap funny stories over and over. Old times and good times.

For those who read the following blog - it is raining so no full-moon. Bummer!

Look Up!

Tonight's full moon, assuming no clouds, is the biggest and brightest to be seen for 15 years. As Arthur recounts, each month the moon makes a full orbit around the earth in a slightly oval-shaped path, and tonight it will swing by at its closest distance, or perigee, passing 221,595 miles away - 17,400 miles closer than average. What's unusual tonight is that the perigee coincides with a full moon making it appear 14% bigger and 30% brighter than most full-moons (the next closest encounter BTW is November 14, 2016 but it won't be a full-moon). Tonight's moon is also notable for rising to its greatest height in the night sky, lying almost overhead at midnight. This is due to the approaching winter solstice on December 21 and, thanks to the tilt of the earth, the moon appears at its highest as the sun is at its lowest. Were that not enough, tonight and for the next several nights is the Geminid meteor shower, one of the year's best displays of shooting stars - up to 100 meteors an hour can fly across the sky. Cool!
Moon photo from National Geographic.

Baby II

Anneke was born yesterday to proud parents Peter and Catherine. Bravo! Welcome to the world of sleep deprivation. Last night I watch a program on early child development and learn that new-borns, it is now believed, have a "core intelligence" or specifically, "infants begin life with innate, special-purpose knowledge systems referred to as core domains of thought." There are five crucial for survival and simultaneously prepare us to develop key aspects of early cognition; they are: physical, numerical, linguistic, psychological, and biological. Prior to this study, it was accepted by development theorists like Jean Piaget, Lev Vygotsky and Eri Erikson that we start from a clean-slate, absorbing our environment and learning directly from experience. This has been rejected by various tests including a new-borns recognition of face patterns and ability to mimic, say, a parent's tongue sticking in-and-out. Or her fear/avoidance of heights. While I don't remember any of this from my early days as a father, I do recall Eitan's thoughtful entry and slow scanning of the delivery room. He paused before screaming as though trying somehow to understand what he had gotten himself into. Madeleine, on the other hand, came barrelling out of Sonnet in a two-hour delivery. She bellowed upon arrival, of course. How interesting to consider that these characteristics remain today.

Natasha tells Madeleine she must do her Kumon before eating a candy bar (that I brought her from the US). 15 minutes later, Natasha finds Madeleine on her bed in her room, homework undone, wrappers on the floor. Madeleine bursts into tears - "I am sorry I did something bad" she wails.

Baby I and Woolworths

Well yes, and it is Friday again. Annabel, who I met in June, is cute as a button and belongs to Tim and Kitty. Thank goodness for love and our future because right now the news bleek. In the US, it is the auto industry, who I do not hold my sympathy for, not receiving a bail-out. I mean, the Big Three sued California for trying (responsibly) to raise MPG to 22 by 2016; this despite China's minimum >30 - in a stroke, Detroit ceded the world's larget car market. Idiots. I have openly hoped for the Japanese to put GM, Ford and Chrysler of their misery via buying them and rationalising their bunk. So yesterday the Republicans deal another thumping blow to them and Bush (and Obama) and now Chapter 11 looms for Christmas. In Britain, Woolworths goes tits-up and the >800 retail chain has a liquidation sale - on our high-street, the line went around the block to buy their crap. Without them, a hole opens: where else can one find similar volumes of hard-candy endearing to the neighborhood kids? I am reminded of the pharmacy in Berkeley on Salano Avenue where Grace would buy needles, yarn, aspirin and the like. There was a book selection which I checked-out for Star Trek and crime volumes - you bet, pulp fiction. By age nine or ten I loved this stuff (before, it was the book-covers I valued especially shots of the Enterprise phasering Klingons). So yes, the high street has changed in my lifetime. Gone are the local cinemas, ice-cream parlors and drug stores. Woolworths has been around since 1909, to be replaced inevitably by a Starbucks or other modern franchises. Darwin comes to mind.

Kooks

Despite my jet-lag and being e-x-h-a-u-s-t-e-d, I rally to join Sonnet and Paul in Brixton for the Kooks, a favorite band that I have followed for some time. Their tunes are loud, catchy and guitar-led Brit-pop while retaining an urban under-belly vibe. Sadly and inevitably, their edginess tempered by fame and repetition - they no longer show up at some venue dazed and a bit shy like in San Francisco when I first saw them. Last night we had all their best songs from albums one and two but also bouncy balls and confetti. I mean WTF? Nobody complaining (other than me) and arms waving and kids screaming at the wall of sound (thank you guilty Phil Spector) that today leaves my ears buzzy. Photo from MySpace.

Before Kooks, I am greeted by the Shakespeares who are thrilled to see me home. Such uncloaked love - nowhere else but with little children, oh happy life. Their attention turns to gifts as in: where are they? Usually I spoil them but this time I am lite - and they are not happy especially Madeleine who thought I was getting her a boat (I did use a ploy to get her to speak to me on the phone but another story. My bad). The Harry Potter absorption continues and yesterday's movie night... Harry P, of course. I am happy to report that Sonnet and I now often find Eitan tucked away reading somewhere. Like all the time. Madeleine is doing her multiplications and has 2's and 5's covered.

Fergus Henderson

Fergus Henderson champions 'nose to tail' eating. Photograph: Suki Dhanda

England is offal. No other country treats organs and innards like a delicacy. Even the French, who know how to surprise with their haute cuisine, stay away from certain parts of animal or at least give the various bits sly names foie gras or escargots. Today, and a sign of the recessionary times: tongues, hearts and brains are experiencing a surge in popularity here, with sales up 67% over the past five years. They are also cheaper, you see.

Says Fergus Henderson, whose restaurant St John's is a favorite: "It was never a mission to start the offal ball rolling, it just seemed common sense, good eating." (Ferguson's cooking best-seller is "Nose to Tail Eating: A Kind of British Cooking"). 

Back in the day, I hated liver and became violently ill trying to force it down at my parents behest (at least I like to remember it this way). Eggplant was also gnarly, though I love it now. Eitan and Madeleine have foods they do not like but nothing repulsing; usually it is general complaint that drives every hard-working mother insane: "Aw mom, not this again." 

Back to the present: our neighborhood butcher, R Chubb & Son (and yes, it is a father and son affair) present selections which are frozen, prepared and cut on site unlike the groceries where meats pre-packed and from God knows where. Chubb is a portly, friendly fellow too - he gets me and Eitan tickets to Fulham matches which are particularly valuable when Fulham plays Chelsea or Manchester United. Chubbs hands and apron usually covered in blood and he moves slowly, considering a chop then - whack! - down comes his knife severing a joint or cutting flank. Bones bring out the saw. It is a gruesome affair, no doubt, but best to seen given where it goes.

"O! beware, my lord, of jealousy; It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock the meat it feeds on."
Iago in Othello

Times Square

When I arrived in the Big Apple in '89 this place was a dump. Sure there was theatre and neon but it was also the centre of New York's sleeze business and every other shop was a dime store selling peeps. It was also a place of drug-dealers, gawking tourists, gospels and squeegee men who did your car windows for cash... or else. By the early or mid-1990s under Mayor Dinkins there was a clean up effort and eventually the cathedral became disney-fied and indeed I believe Walt put in an installation on the Southside but there are no traces of it now- maybe I'm mixing it up with the humungous Toys R US. Who knows. Most people know Times Square for New Years and in '89 I went to a party on 44th and Broadway - at Midnight spinning drunk I fell into the street to watch the ball drop. It was cold and raining - who cared? At 12:01, 1990, the exit scramble laid waste as we and everybody scrambled to our next destination.

Did you know that the intersection of Broadway and 42nd Street, at the southeast corner of Times Square, is the Eastern Terminus of the Lincoln Highway which was the first road across America? There's a nice piece of trivia.

The Professor

Kate and I join Ray for lunch at the local Greek nearby Columbia. Ray was a special professor when I was at the graduate school - his Modern Political Economy a classic, attracting the interesting sorts like Xia who was a dissident in China and at Tiannamen Square in '89. It was after the MBA that I got to know Ray outside school when we (and Katie) travelled into Kashmir's "disputed territories" between Pakistan and India, which has brought the countries war (Ka means "water" BTW and Shimir means "to desiccate". Hence, Kashmir stands for "a land desiccated from water"). Our trip via the Karakorum Highway or KKH that connects Northern Pakistan to Western China and China's remote muslims known as "Juegers" (there is plenty of tension between here and Beijing). Ray's first visit to Central Asia in '94 and he knows plenty of people by 1997 when we have our adventure. The story about Ray, however, that will convey not about the Karakorum mountains but rather a favorite moment I enjoyed in his class: somewhere in the middle of the semester our focus turned to John Kenneth Galbreath who was at Harvard the same time Ray getting his degree at the law school. On a snowy night driving to the library Ray almost ran over The Great JKG and says Ray today with perfect tone: "If I had killed him, rest assured we would not be having this lecture." Brilliant lead-in. I might not remember much about some of those economists but I sure do remember the fun I had in his class.

From lunch, Katie and I walk down-town where she has a meeting at the Empire State Building. Me, I take in the tall sites - I can never get enough as a visitor. Funny how I rarely noticed the surroundings when I lived in New York and now I find it awe-inspiring. Everything sprung from man's imagination, ingenuity and concrete. From the subway's gnarly pipes and beaten down tracks to the towering brick and steel skyscrapers. Wow. At 35th Katie and I say our goodbyes and I head to JFK for the overnight across "the pond" (I have always hated that expression and I don't know why certain idiots think it clever).

Joe's View

I do what I normally do when I am in New York: run around and meet people. I start the day with Joe who is a self-made man and founder of a series of buy-out and hedge-funds representing >$7-billion. We met in '04 and toured around Europe in a private jet staying at five-star hotels which I learned from his secretary then is a hobby. Joe is a capitalist - he appreciates the value of a buck and how to make it, which often includes difficult decisions like down-sizing or management change. This environment is indeed difficult and he will do same. Eating salmon and drinking coffee, overlooking Central Park from the 46 Floor of CPW 1, we compare notes on our market and the difficulties ahead- amazing to him, New York has not changed which is to say people are out shopping and eating. Habits die hard. Joe's wife of >30 years reads the New York Times and occasionally enters the conversation to emphasize a point or add an addition. They work well together. From Columbus Circle, I lunch at the Greek Mylos which has the freshest seafood in Manhattan in my humble opinion. I eat some more salmon. In this instance I am with the world's second or third largest investor, AlpInvest, and here too we compare notes and again not much to be happy about (next to me several old biddies discuss foreclosures, which ruin the value of their $5-million Upper East Side condos). As goes main-street, there goes New York. And venture capital. And leverage buy-outs. And hedge-funds. And.. .and... and . . The day ends at 1880s chop-house Keenes on 36th and 6th Ave and a favorite of Teddy Roosevelt for its exhaustive whisky collection which remains more or less in place as far as I can tell. Like PJ Clarke's on the East Side, this place has seen old times and good times. I reunion with First Boston pals Kelly and Todd, who visits from Boston to present to HNW families+Katie, who joins from work. We end up at Kelly's fab apartment where I admire his hot-tub and drink red wine including a Monticello '97. Good year.

"Don't hit at all if it is honorably possible to avoid hitting; but never hit softly. "
Teddy Roosevelt

"I didn't grow up in the ocean -- as a matter of fact -- near the ocean -- I grew up in the desert. Therefore, it was a pleasant contrast to see the ocean. And I particularly like it when I'm fishing."
W., Washington, D.C., September 26, 2008

New York Taxi

KT accidentally snaps this picture while jogging yesterday morning in Central Park. I think it is neat. This morning I hear it all from a cab-driver down on his luck: "I shoulda sold my apartment two years ago; I told the wife: sell-now! but she said whadya wanna do that for? I should uv smacked her then." He is from Argentina and lived in this country his entire life driving a yellow-cab: "And all this shit happening now when I'm gonna retire." Everything he blames on Bush who "fucked everything (every ting) up" and "somebody otta hang that mother-fucker by his balls." I ask him if he voted - of course not, I learn. I note this might have been his only way to extract some kind of revenge? but he doesn't want to hear it. "I told my wife that it don't matter who vote. The poor guy in the street- nobody gonna listen to him. No way." He does love Obama though- "my biggest fear is some son-of-a-bitch is gonna get him. Shoot him. You think that security can stop it? Look at Kennedy. Now he had security and they still got him." It is not an unpleasant conversation - fascinating really - and despite this guy's poor wife and bullying he has a twinkle in his eye, is not unitelligent and supports the right side. Maybe there is a lesson here. Or perhaps the worm has fully turned.

"Thank God for the rain to wash the trash off the sidewalk."
Travis Bickle, Taxi Driver (1976)

Brooklyn and Aquatics

Katie and I have dinner last night in Brooklyn, a place I admit to never knowing. My time spent in NYC from '89-'93 and then graduate school spent entirely on the Upper West and Mid-town, Manhattan, excluding my first year in Geenwich Village (Waverly Place and Sixth Avenue). Brooklyn's Prospect Park neighborhood goes on for as far as the eye can see but unlike Manhattan, there are no tall buildings. The energy and buzzy is equally intense yet it feels, like, totally different ya know? The underground subway is a straight shot from Katie's flat and despite traveling umpteen city miles we get there in good time if 22 minutes late. As anticipated, Anna-Marie and Jonathan are way interesting: she from Colombia and working for a foundation and he running an OEP business (outsourced human resources but I forget what the acronym stands for). Their condo is cool+they have a cute four-year old who is painted Spider Man. How I remember that phase, ah yes. While Kate and A-M discuss NGOs and Latin America (Katie and Jonathan met at NACLA years ago), Jonathan and I retred our understanding of the US crisis and how we find ourselves in such a mess. In a word: Bush. On the subway home I people-watch the styles and mixes then pick up the early addition of the New York Times - this always a wonderful head-start to a lazy Sunday. I wake up briefly at 6AM to find Katie sound-asleep on her couch, TV on.

This morning I go to the Aquatics Center on 90th and York to find a bona fide 50 meter Olympic size pool - and it is clean! And the water the right temperature! And digital pace-clocks! And anti-wave walls! And well lit with plenty of deck space! Swimming in London is a misery - indoor yucky 33 meter pools built 40 or even 50 years ago and barely hanging on. How strange to find a modern pool in New York - I mean, it just doesn't come to mind. After marching a mile on the black line I lift some weights then go to Katie's bakery to bring Katie and us coffee, espresso croissants and raspberry brioches. My God they are good too. New York is just way fun to visit. Stim-u-lating.

"More than any other time in history, mankind faces a crossroads. One path leads to despair and utter hopelessness. The other, to total extinction. Let us pray we have the wisdom to choose correctly."
Woody Allen, speaking to under-graduates - date?

"A fast word about oral contraception. I asked a girl to go to bed with me, she said 'no'.
Woody Allen

Re-Union

Katie's company - The Op-Ed Project - is blasting off and she is juggling all kinds of stuff, which sounds like growth to me. She's meeting the right people too like Mia Farrow last week and Teressa Heinz pointing to the ketchup in the diner where we brunch. This photo somewhere near Lincoln Center and I have been desparately trying to buy John Fitzgerald's "The Great Brain" for the kiddos - unfortunately neither Barnes & Nobles Super Store carries the classic in stock and I feel, well, a bit disappointed that the book has faded from its glory. Indeed, I read every one when I was ten or 11. Sonnet informs me that in London the kids enjoyed a football tournament (one goal for Eitan, unclear for Madeleine) and then to the school Christmas Fair. Mum gives the Shakespeares ten quid plus their allowance to blow on crapola - which they do with (wild) abandon. Eitan, I learn, spends his fortune on a toy which he gives to class-room chum Syrus which makes Madeleine feel, well, hurt. Madeleine and I discuss this for a bit on the phone but Eitan hovers and tensions rise. I guess these good old family dynamics start early, unfortunately. Irritated now, the boy refuses to speak to me (I tell Sonnet: "ask him if he wants to know how big the boat is that I got him" and even this doesn't get the usual rise). Katie and I are going to Brooklyn for dinner and I look forward to meeting some of her friends. Indeed, I am honored to be included.

"How small, of all that human hearts endure,
That part which law or kings can cause or cure."
The Traveller - Samual Johnson

NY

Katie and I walk southward from the Upper West Side passing by Zabar's, H&H Bagels, Barnie Greengrass and eventually Central Park - pictured. I am back in New York and back online following yesterday's cross-country jump. California ended on a nice note with Christian, Sloan and Rob where we go to a tres cool Peruvian restaurant next to the Ferry House on da bay. Over Latino cocktails we talk about the financial markets, property values and Europe where Rob recently visited Munich for Octoberfest. It did not end well but that is a private story, if easily guessed. Oh boy and lucky him. I also lunch with David and learn about his new enterprise - an advertising technology company that projects images onto about any surface anywhere (the Union Jack, for instance, was displayed on Buckingham Palace for the Queen's Jubilee but this done by a French firm). I wrap things up with my pals at Industry but their fund remains open yet. We do not anticipate a surprise but in today's melt down, who knows? Stay tuned.

Madeleine: "Mom, would you rather have a feather or a cow as a pet?"

Eitan to Madeleine about something: "In your face!" (this gets the boy in trouble BTW)

"I want to thank my parents for somehow raising me to have confidence that is disproportionate with my looks and abilities. Well done - that is what all parents should do."
Tiny Fey in The New Yorker magazine

Katie In FL

Here's Katie over Thanksgiving in Ft Lauderdale with Mark and his family. The pool is at the Swimming Hall of Fame where there is a wax Mark Spitz whose hand, Katie notes, is chipped+he has a George Hamilton tan. That's not quite how I remember our Jewish hero. The museum has lots of swimming history that we grew up with+waaay back, including a full length woolen women's suit with skirt (ankles showing I wonder?); the first swims by men and women (hugely greased up) across the English channel and a few from Cuba to Florida. Johnny Weismuller's Tarzon promo shots are displalyed, as are East Germany's steroid enhanced swim-girls of the late 1970s and 1980s - '78 was the first and only year the American women failed to win gold though unlike the Germans they did not have to worry about shaving. Their backs. There is also a full-story high portrait of Janet Evans who began setting national records by age-11 then dominated the '88 and '92 Olympics+carried the flag in '96 (Atlanta). Many of Evans records stood until recently. Katie finishes her tour with a swim in the Olympic training pool- pictured- noting her 850 yards is hard work. And to think she once clocked ten-miles a day on the black line. Now those were hard yards. Each. And. Every. One.

On swimming, I jump a plane this morning in London and end my day at the Spieker Aquatics complex at Cal. This is a pool I hold dear having competed in the Nor-Cal high-school championships, watched Matt Biondi set a national high-school record in the 50 yard freestyle (20.04) and lapped with Nort Thorton who coach the Cal Bears who I trained with my Senior year of high-school. Tonight, as always before, I change on deck - no grimy indoor pool here - just me and the stars. It is a cold night but I quickly warm up in crystal clear water and am quite happy to be free of the usual early-morning Richmond lap swimmer who somehow conveys a since of grumpiness despite the milieu. Or maybe I am the one grumpy. Moe BTW cooks seared salmon with avocado, shrimp and mango salso as I write. It is good to be home.