Murray Wins

Andy Murray wins the US Open becoming the first British winner of a Grand Slam since .. 1936 (Murray a Scott). Thus caps a remarkable summer of British sport from Wimbledon to Chelsea, the Tour de France (won by Brit Wiggins), Elm Grove and the Olympics. Photo NYT.

It all makes sense somehow that Murray wins New York, too : everything bigger here, where I am now, for several days (Katie and I have dinner with Thierry). For instance : The larger-than-life bellhop (with moustache) at the NY Palace tells me, as I wait for our car, that for 15 years he has greeted some guy on his way to work .. . who turns out to be a producer for the Today program who invites him on the show for his good cheer. He has now done Letterman, Leno and other late night shows as the "happy guy." Of course he does. Just like Murray - it is all center stage, dude.

Still Groov'n

After all these years.

A Trip And A Turtle

Sonnet takes Eitan and Madeleine to Eitan's match against Elm Grove. I prepare for the US.

Madeleine: "Dad if you get a special pet passport can you bring a turtle back?"
Me:
Madeleine:  "I've heard it is so much cheaper to buy a turtle in New York."

Mazel Tov

Ben celebrates his Bar Mitzvah in Beliize Park, London. 

We have not raised Eitan or Madeleine with religion nor will they perform the Bar Mitzvah and Bat Mitzvah ceremonies to mark their transition from childhood to adulthood (though they may choose to do so later of course).  Instead, the kids dedicate themselves to sports and drama and other city-suburban activities.  This is the way it was for me, this is the way it is for them. We do not belong to a Synagogue nor are we a part of the London Jewish community (mostly located in North London with its spiritual and physical center Golders Green).  It is an easy gift, religion, and, at Ben's services, I consider, not for the first time, that I have missed out on something easy, something good.

Madeleine: "Dad can we get a turtle?"
Me: "Not this again."
Madeleine: "They don't eat mice or crickets or anything. Plus they like water."
Me: "Yes?"
Madeleine: "Water, Dad, so they don't smell."
Me: "Can we get one and put it in the pond?"
Madeleine: "No. There are fish in there already and it might  not get along with the frog."
Me: "Madeleine, we have Rusty. We are not going to get a turtle."
Madeleine: "So does that mean I can't have one now?"
Me: "Yes."
Madeleine: "How about Christmas?"

Daily News

I snap this fellow on the afternoon train heading into town.

Friday evening and we sit around the table eating hamburgers and re-capping the week highlighted by new schools. Madeleine's favourite class, so far, is drama while Eitan likes Latin and chemistry.  Sonnet with the British Film Institute (BFI) to arrange an Italian film festival to coincide with her exhibition La Moda set for 2014.

Eitan: "Look at all the things you have to look out for in Chemistry [Eitan reads from his chemistry book]: harmful or irritant, flammable, biological hazard (biohazard), radioactive, corrosive, toxic, explosive and oxidising.. . ."
Me: "Sounds like a good class."
Eitan: "Apparently the teacher is a bit crazy.  Once he tried to shoot something across the room and it hit the lamp and it crashed."
Me: "The lamp blew up?"
Eitan: "Yeah. It exploded."
Me: "Did he get expelled or something?"
Eitan: "Our chemistry teacher?"
Me: "Yeah."
Eitan: "No. He's still at our school.  Teaching."

We drive to football practise with Joe.
Me: "So what do you boys do on the school bus?"
Eitan: "I don't know. Sit there."
Me: "You don't do homework or something?"
Joe: "The older boys are on the top of the bus. Towards the back. With the girls"
Me: "Do you guys sit with any girls?"
Eitan:  "Dad!"
Joe: "No, we don't really sit near them."
Me: "Where do the nerds sit?"
Joe: "What's a nerd?"
Me: "If you have to ask, it's probably you."
Eitan: "Joe is not a nerd, Dad."
Me: "It's not like an insult or anything. They just sit by themselves... "
Eitan, Joe:
Me: ".. . trying to avoid the spit balls."

Paralympics 2012

Richard Whitehead of Team GB wins gold in the Men's 200-meter T42 Final on day 3 of the London 2012 Paralympic Games (Michael Steele/Getty Images).  The athletes magnificent.

The one time everybody together, like most days now it seems, 7AM for breakfast. I run at 6AM and note the sunrise, which means soon it will be dark at this hour. Madeleine (decidedly not a morning person) downstairs at 6:30AM and Eitan a few moments after. We sit around the kitchen as Sonnet prepares breakfast, frets over an upcoming dinner party, tidies up and makes sure homework and etc. in the right place. She prepares a list for au pair Aneta. Rusty scratches the conservatory door with urgency as two doves scope the backyard - once open, he bolts, yap! yap! yap! (Sonnet: "The neighbours!).

Packing

Madeleine's backpack filled with 16 books and is as heavy as a rock with which, she notes, "I have to walk up four flights of stairs."

Madeleine: "Do you know socks?"
Me: "Hmm?"
Madeleine: "They are like the least important part of the PE kit."
Me:
Madeleine: "And if you forget your socks you get a signature."
Me: "That is so harsh! What is a 'signature'?"
Madeleine: "I know! If you get three signatures you get detention."
Me: "Whoa. Good thing Alex isn't in your class."
Madeleine: "I know. Or Nathaniel.  And guess what - I have four accomodations already. Today I got one for helping the teacher get paper and pens."
Me: "That's great. And what does an 'accomodation' mean?"
Madeleine: "Five accomodations is a treat. Ten you see the head of the year. And 20, the head of the school."
Me: "I can see you are really going for it."
Madeleine: "Yeah."

Italians Are Mad

One more from Italy. Marco (purple shirt) crazy, just like everybody else I meet here. It is a wonderful spirit and how different from anywhere else. I could live in Italy no problemo.

Off To The Races

And another sprogue to middle-school. Eitan, up at dawn, readies himself, ties his tie and straightens his jacket.  His back-pack neatly arranged at the front door, pencils counted and necessary forms double-confirmed.  The only thing missing is a shiny red apple.  Sonnet has a wistful look in her eye - proud, yet knowing, in the way that all mothers do : a marathon no longer a marathon once the first steps taken.

Me: "Ready for school?"
Eitan: "Yeah, I guess so."
Me: "Nervous about anything?"
Eitan: "Nah, not really.  Mom how long until we have to go?"
Me: "What are you looking forward to?"
Eitan: "Football try-outs. Meeting the other kids in my form. Mom!"
Me: "I remember the first day of seventh grade.  It was hot and I walked by myself to King Jr High. We got out early and I mowed the lawn when I got home."
Ein: "Bye Dad."
Me: "I was exactly your age now.
Eitn. "See you tonight Dad."
Me:

Second Floor

Madeleine on the level-two of the No. 337 bus; she reads "The Great Brain".  Photo from Sonnet who accompanies her then catches the train from Clapham Junction to South Kensington.

Silver loved the upper deck of the modern red buses, where she would sit in the front row offering a forward sweeping view of the street below.  She and Stan toured London in this fashion.

Back To Work

Elm Grove in action against Middlesex champions Wembley in a "friendly" on the home pitch. Our side yet a bit creaky, despite a 3-nil victory, following six weeks of holiday (Eitan (and I) ran the 3 mile Park Run yesterday 2 minutes slower than April).  Getting back into shape never easy.

Sonnet takes the family berry picking while I prepare for a Sunday evening return to Paris. Beforehand I will plant some pansies.  Madeleine remains on a high from school and does some homework while noting: "French and Spanish this year, Dad, and maybe Latin next year". I can only marvel.  Labor Day weekend in the US hardly registers though of course I am excited for the college football season despite unranked Cal's opening day loss to WMC conference Nevada at home in the new-stadium opening; ESPN doesn't bother to post the score so I have to search the Internets.  My parents at the cabin.

Madeleine: "Mom, Eitan is licking the table."

Eitan: "Dad pull up your shorts. That is so embarrassing."
Me: "What, did they come down?"
Eitan: "Yes. What if there were people around?"
Me: "So what? Why is that so embarrasing - you see pants all the time."
Eitan: "Yeah, but they're not my dad's pants."
Me: "If that bothers you, then you have no idea how much embarrasment lies ahead."
Eitan: "What do you mean?"
Me: "Imagine, in the future, assuming you like girls, and you are on a date."
Eitan:
Me: "So, Eitan, why don't you introduce me to your little friend?"
Eitan: "That is, like, so never going to happen."

Twins

Mark (the white guy) a pal from Brown where he set the men's pole vault standard at 16' in '89, a record that held until 2003.

Mark and I shared a Manhattan tenement in Greenwich Village, 373 Sixth Ave, from '89-90 with two other college friends : What a dump but we had some wild parties. During that time  Mark lived in a walk-in closet because he was either i) at work or ii) at his girlfriend's.  Today, he is with hedge fund investor ABS and lives in Greenwich, Connecticut, with wife and four daughters, each named with first-letter beginning 'm.'   Old friends are the best friends.

Madeleine panic-texts Sonnet from Emanuel: "Mom please help me. I have forgotten my PE kit" which sets into action a series of events culminating in our au pair, Aneta, driving to Clapham to deliver the goods.  Who can forget that feeling? It is a bit like Astorg, where I am today : everybody excited to be back from summer but anxious, too, for being away and anticipating the fall. Or homework missed or forgotten.

New School, Day 1

Madeleine readies herself for Emanuel School, which begins with orientation at 11:30AM and pick-up at 3:15PM.  Tomorrow, it starts for real : 8:15AM registration and six classes before lunch.  It seems like yesterday she was starting reception at Sheen Mount.

Moe notes that Emanuel's colours, blue and gold, the same as Cal.

Me: "I wish I could be a photographer."
Eitan: "Why don't you?"
Me: "Soldi . .."
Eitan: "You could still do it. Don't photographers make money?"
Me: "You have to be very very very good."
Madeleine: "You are Dad."
Me: "Madeleine I love you for that."

Middle School

Last days of freedom : Madeleine begins Emanuel tomorrow and Eitan at Hampton next week.  Sonnet furiously stitches name-tags in to the Shakespeares' uniforms, socks, pe gear, etcetc. Both kids seem pretty chill about the whole idea that everything about to change. Dun dun dun.

Me, I remember the weirdness of 7th grade, King Jr High, with its school-yellow exterior+white trim surrounded by dry crabgrass and concrete playing fields, bungalows and a quarter-mile track; inside - polished oak hallways, lockers and that smell unique to public education : fear. Navigating the dangerous, unfamiliar, corridors stressful and the grafitti-covered bathrooms a no-go but also: there were some angry kids : mostly black and unlike my black friends from Longfellow primary, who were my best, these were unruly and violent. My first week I got tossed against a wall, jeered, stripped of my back back and left for miserable.

Eventually I found a base of friends, mostly from the North Berkeley hills, whose professional parents believed in public education, and we huddle together with our Top-Siders, Vaurnet sunglasses and Donnay rackets; collectively, we were "the benchies", a name that stuck through high school.  That year I found swimming and that was all she wrote.

Neil Armstrong, 1930-2012

Photo from NASA

Parasols

Countryside

We spend the afternoon with Costantinos and Mirella, whose house in the countryside always filled with people, laughter and cheer (Says Mirella: "Better a noisy home than a lonely one"). This afternoon it is Costantinos parents, Mirella's work colleague Alesandro from Milan .. .another couple I don't quite place and, of course, the bambinos... a few cats and the five dogs, which Madeleine feeds under the table, and Penelope the pig (who Eitan names).  This also means amazing food - Costanatinos father a retired restaurant chef while Mirella - umma mia! - and, for Eitan and Madeleine, 5 kg of .. . Nutella.

Tuscany draws the attention but Abruzzo the same rolling countryside with similar white beaches (that still have fish).  A 30 minute drive takes one into the mountains. There is no Florence but far fewer tourists, too. Certainly no Chinese which the Italians now complain about.  Costantinos shows me a villa with 360 panoramic views of olive trees and sunflowers; he notes: "half the price".

Below, Abruzzo countryside:

Middle Age

This is what it looks like to turn 50 in Italy.

The Republicans, whose party argues global warming a farce, cut their Tampa convention one-day due to Tropical Storm Isaac (NASA reports that the Arctic ice caps summer surface area reached its lowest size ever in 2012).

Republicans want to entirely repeal Obama's heath insurance making health care available to 30m working poor; a constitutional amendment to ban any legal recognition of gay rights, including civil partnerships; a commitment to more Jewish settlements in the West bank . .. a war against Iran's nuclear facilities .. the return of torture as an instrument of war .. . assualt rifles on our streets, a ramping up of the Afghanistan war . .. immediate confrontation with China over trade and Russia over, well, everything.  The "Arab Spring" envisioned by George Bush seen as a radical threat to American interest .. and Todd Akin's "legitimate rape" defines the party's views towards women reproduction , ie, women.

No, the real amazement that Republicans own half of the United States. Each party so entrenched and filled with hatred for the other, there is no punishment for catering to the extremes. 

"I oppose the attempts of homosexual activists to treat homosexual activity as a civil right to be protected and promoted by the government."
--Todd Akin

Baywatch

I send Madeleine off to take some pictures from the beach seeing how the sun has set and the hazy glow near perfect for photos. She protests vehemently.  A chore : the lifeguard, and eventually I give her a hand as I watch our gal stalk the booth pretending to take shots of the sea etc.  I march up, point at my camera to get permissions, snap-snap, then a thumb's up and "California, dude" which gets a large toothy smile. All I have to do is say that word, "California", and we are all part of the club.

White Shades

Eitan buys himself some new sunglasses this morning at the local market which runs down the block outside our hotel.  They go with his pink Converse high-tops and I note: the kid is putting some style on.  Given he will be wearing the same monotonous wardrobe for seven years, I am down with this (Hampton school's colours BTW are black and gold; coat and tie).  Madeleine, for her part, purchases a magnet with a molded plastic platter containing a wine, prosciutto and melon dinner plate, hooks in the shape of garlic and a bunch of tomatoes, and a T-shit for Auntie-Katie.  Me, I get two pork sandwiches.

From there it is more gelato and the beach.

Madeleine: "Dad are you going to go on the paddle boat with us?"
Me: "No. .."
Eitan: "Come on, Dad. All your troubles will disappear."
Mom: "That's quite a proposition."
Madeleine: "Mine didn't.  Two years ago they multiplied because I cut my big toe on the propeller. And then I got sand in it."

Helter Skelter

Since the hotel stations in Italian we listen to music from on line : the kids fire off songs including Maroon 5, Rihanna and other such junk which I veto (Dad's computer).  We hit a good vain with the Beatles: "Here Comes The Sun", "The Long And Winding Road," "A Day In the Life" and "Lucy In The Sky Of Diamonds" which was banned by British radio in '67 for its reference to drugs (Lennon says: no).  Any case, The Beatles impact on people's lives cannot be under-stated : even now, doing a quick Internets search, I come across heartfelt letters thanking the band for saving their lives . . .

Sgt Peppers in my parents living room stack (of course) and one of the first albums I recall (also: "This Is The Dawning Of The Age of Aquarius" and Simon & Garfunkel's "Scarborough Fair" ).  That would have been around age seven or eight.. a good introduction to pop culture and its positive vibe , which must have influenced me then and so now. How remarkable that two of the greatest lyricists of all time , Lennon and McCartney, should be in the same band.

The Fab Four, pictured, in '68 or 69 , memorable for the My Lai massacre, Robert Kennedy and Martin Luther King assassinations and "Abbey Road" with quintessential songs "Helter Skelter" and "Come Together", when the band produced some of its best music , as if sensing their time together soon to end : A year later, "Let It Be" (my favourite ) would be their last. And what fashion ! Gone the good-natured outfits of Sgt Pepper's , replaced with four distinct fellows each having a unique style to showcase,  presumably, their increasingly disparate personalities.

This is the end
Of you and me
And everything I used to be
Back then it meant something
But you're living a lie, you just can't hide from me
--The Doors

Tonino

Tonino, born in Tortoreto and from Naples, spent his career at Pirelli on a boat laying cable. Tonino's boss, Captain Monti, met Stan in Alaska, in '65, when Stan a member of the Anchorage Junior Council.  Later, following Marcus's operation, Stan asked Monti for a place to stay in Italy "with the people" and Monti suggested Tortoreto, where Sonnet's family spent two summers and here we are now.

Tonino long retired and scoops up the bambinos in his fat arms, pinches Eitan's cheek several times and marvels at Madeleine's beauty.  He yells at his wife Delia on the top floor of the building, who leans over her balcony and yells back "Ciao! Ciao !"  Delia, learning that we share an interest in tomatoes, gives me thirty seeds held in newspaper  : her vines fill the backyard with giant red fruit. A precious gift indeed.

The Shakespeares roll with the attention. They have no choice, really.

Prick

The US Anti-Doping Agency will ban Lance Armstrong for life for using drugs to win the Tour de France from 1999 to 2005 - charges that Armstrong denies, noting he has not failed a drugs test. USADA said in June it had evidence, including information supplied by former teammates, that Armstrong had used banned substances.  This is the Madoff of sports frauds and yet another American. WTF? Next (my guess) will come the improprieties with Armstrong's foundation, Live Strong, which has raised ca. $430 million for cancer survivors.  Where have the heroes gone ?

Wally World

"Hell is other people" -- Jean-Paul Sartre

We head for the Aquapark along with every Italian in Tortoreto and maybe Abruzzo. My life has become an episode of The Simpsons.  On the plus side, it is ca. 40-degrees and the kids love splashing about and daring each other down the long slides, which drop six or seven stories. It ain't California.  

Still, the Italians are a sexy people :

Prega

The church open 11PM and we sit for a moment and listen. It is a warm night perfect for strolling about this 14c villa. Locals sit outside their homes, which spill onto the cobblestone, smoking and chatting.  I do not have religion in my life and how simple it would be - to believe it is all taken care of somehow.

We finish dinner with some Goccia di Genziana "Liquore Tipico D'Abbruzzo" which, Costatinos tells me, is from the roots of the Ginzino flower only found in the Grand Sasso mountains of Abruzzo. The original 'formula', once produced at home, is now found in restaurants or local stores; otherwise it is moonshine (which Costantine has often made before). A wonderful digestive however prepared.

Centro Storico

We are at L'Antico Portone pizza al metro primi piatti close to the best I have ever had and right up there with Napoli in '92 with Katie (one remembers these things). 

Madeleine: "Are you taking pictures of me?"

Me: "No."

Madeleine: "Dad! You just took one."

Me: "Must have slipped."

Madeleine: "Well stop."

Me: "OK. Hey, what about the 20 pictures you owe me for getting you on 20 questions?"

Madeleine: "You've taken loads already. What about the Christmas photo today? That was way more than 20."

Me: "That was so outside the arrangement. We never agreed the Xmas photos reduced your number."

Madeleine: "That is completely unfair. If you want to take more pictures then give me your pillow."

Me: "Sleep without a pillow? Are you mad?"

Madeleine: "Just negotiating Dad. You can use a towel."

Me: "Nice try kid."

Madeleine: "Fine. No pictures. See how far you get then."

Me:

M: "See? And no trying to take them when I'm not looking."

Me: "You got me kid."

Madeleine: "Can I have the pillow?"

Me: "Dream on. "

And Now

back to the Royal Family. Prince Harry takes a holiday in Las Vegas following some hard work at the London Olympics.

Self Portrait XXVII

hotel capitano tortoreto lido

Madeleine: "I just read that 'the more a French man knows, the less he talks.'"

Me: "That's a good one. Or 'The less a man knows, the less he talks.'"

Madeleine: "Yeah."

Me: "The worst combination is 'the less a man knows, the more he talks.'"

Madeleine: "What about Richard?"

Me: "Richard ?"

Madeleine: "He sure talks an awful lot."

Eitan Reads

Eitan reads 'The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn' on his Kindle, which is ongoing from summer's beginning at my command (Eitan notes : "70% finished" which, for us old-schoolers, is page 205 of 293). Leave it to Dad to steal the joy from one of America's greatest novels.

I read Huck the first time post college (Eitan: "What!? You said you read it when you were seven!") then again a few years ago when I really enjoyed it. Given Huck 13, it seems the perfect vacation book, er, download - whatever - but Eitan prefers 'Holes' by Louis Sachar which is about "a boy called Stanley who is wrongly accused of .. what are you doing ... . nothing. .. ." My blog stops there.

Stanley Yelnats was given a choice. The judge said, "You may go to jail, or you may go to Camp Green Lake." Stanley was from a poor family. He had never been to camp before.
--From 'Holes' by Louis Sachar

Eitan: "I've had four showers on this trip."
Sonnet: "Wow, Eitan, that's incredible."
Eitan: "None of them with soap."

Italiano

Costantinos, Moretti and Montepulciano Abruzzo

Sagre de lla porche tta Italica

We join Mirella and Costantinos who invite us to the 41st sagre de lla porche tta Italica - pork festival, dude! The celebration in a 14th century village in Abruzzo , central Italy, inside Gran Sasso e Monti della Laga with its mountain peaks and rolling hills. The center piaza surrounded by ancient buildings and, of course, a towering cathedral with Jesus Christ looking down upon us lesser mortals. The celebrations last four nights and we are here for the finali - a band sets up to play local favorties while picnic tables fill the open spaces. Ours next to a group of teens who giggle and flirt while an older couple, maybe 14 or 15, demonstrate seniority by suggesting their intimacy.   Flames are lit along the church and alleyways while stalls set up by regional butchers who carve their roasted pig for sandwiches (pork+crusty white roll, nothing else though Madeleine does put ketchup on hers to the consternation of Costantinos). Each competes for for the honor of migliore. It feels like a college campus the night of graduation.

I amuse our table with my various interpretations of Italian and two handed gesticulations learned from Bru. Mamma, mia. As Sonnet says, "you out-crazy the Italians." One would never find this spirit in England and I like it.

Summer Seaside

We arrive Sunday to Tortoreto, Italy, on the Adriatic side, for a simple late summer holiday.  We stay at the Hotel Capitano, who knows us from last time, and 30 years ago when Sonnet's family spent several summers in this beach-side town, which retains its charms from yester-year.  Roberto picks us up at Pescara for the 45 minute drive from the airport; though late, he offers to make us spaghetti while AC Milan v Juventis on the television.  The hotel staff remember the bambinos from when they were about four inches smaller, and Eitan endures some cheek pinching in that awkward way of every 11-year old.  The men kiss three times which is a custom I like.

Madeleine: "You do not speak Italian."
Me: "I do. It's second nature."
Madeleine: "Mom does dad speak Italian?"
Sonnet: "If he says so .. . "
Madeleine: "Say something in Italian then."
Me: "Like what?"
Madeleine: "Say 'can I have some ice cream.'"
Me: "Scoosi ice-a cream-a por favori."
Madeleine: "That is hardly Italian, Dad."
Me: "How would you know? Unlike me, you don't speak Italian."
Madeleine: "Say something else."
Me: "Roberto tell-a Madeleine I dis-i Italiano. Grazi bello. "
Roberto:
Me: "See? I speak so fast he cannot understand me."
Madeleine: "Mom is that true?"
Sonnet: "Whatever Dad says honey."

Madeleine And The Pooch

Almost two years into the dog and Rusty has proven himself to be a success : sure, he craps five or six times a day, scratches himself in front of our guests, jumps on everybody and occassionally pees on the kitchen floor. Sonnet generally hates Rusty but puts up with him too.  On the plus side, he gets me out of bed in the morning for a sunrise run or walk; follows me about the house silently, making himself comfortable wherever I am; is loved by the kids and gives us a lot to laugh about (Eitan: "Look, Dad, Rusty is licking his balls! Ha, ha, ha!").  As Roger likes to say about a dog:  worth its weight in middle-age therapy.

Madeleine gets full credit for pushing the dog through. Without  her persistence, it would not have happened. Now the pooch is part of la familia.

Katie In Spain!

Katie spends the last week in Espanol with her Harvard undergrad thesis advisor Bill, who she has remained friendly with all these years, and Susan, pictured, with sexy camera. Katie tells me they are in parc gruel, " with tilted pillars and building walls that aren't flat and straight but rather organic shapes -- designed by famous kooky beautiful Barcelona architect Gaudi." Sounds about right.  Barcelona a favorite city though I have been only once.

Summer Days

On Sonnet's initiative, we visit a wonderful exhibition at the Tate Britain displaying black-and-white stills of London from the 1930s to 1980.  The only requirement : the photographers non-British, looking at the city anew. I recognise many of the masters - Bill Brandt, Henri Cartier, Robert Frank, Dora Maar, Irving Penn - but my favourites by those I do not know, like Al Vanderberg's '75 shot of an inter-racial couple or Dorothy Bohm's photo of a portly dude dressed like Sgt Pepper at the Petticoat Lane Market, East London, in  the 1960s.

I, of course, have my trusty 7D and try to take e a few useful snaps using the tricks from my other-day class.  Digital cameras include everything when the only thing that matters, other than composition, is aperture and shutter speed (ISO, too, but in the good old days of film that decision also taken care of). My Pentax K1000 genius : fully manual with a light reader.  Load film, adjust two settings. Shoot. Moe's Nikon F2 the first Nikon with the reader attached to the camera : I took it to Africa in '89 when my family visited Kenya, Malawi and Tanzania where we climbed Kilimanjaro.  A photo from Uruho Peak, 19,341 feet above sea level, adorns my parents living room (back then the glacier, on the inside of the volcano, yet full and a remarkable unexpected surprise upon reaching the summit).

Madeleine non-plussed by the exhibition BTW so I ask her to find a favourite and she goes straight for the print of ten stray dogs looking balefully at the camera. Her heart is large.

The King

Eitan Self Portrait

Eitan experiments with grapefruit juice in his hair.

I've had a pretty good lesson in human nature. It's more important to try to surround yourself with people who can give you a little happiness, because you only pass through this life once, Jack. You don't come back for an encore.
--Elvis Presley

Golden Gate Bridge

Normal Distribution

Any MBA knows that in many natural processes random variation conforms to a particular probability distribution known as the normal distribution, pictured.  It is also called a "bell curve".

I think about this on the last (painful) mile of a three-mile race this morning : 15 years ago I won "The Media Challenge", a 3-miler in Manhattan's Central Park.  Today, I am probably one standard deviation ahead of the mean at or ca. 84% of the 300 or so runners. My time of 20 minutes about four minutes slower than '94.

The bell curve catching up : I can no longer jump into a 5K or 10K and expect to be competitive simply, because, well - why not?  It is difficult to re-calibrate times from years ago and I have yet to consider myself a "master" runner. Somewhere in me there are some best times left. Otherwise what's the point?

But today's race for fun and, anyway, I am ten kilos over fighting weight.  I don't push into another gear towards the finish instead happy to finish with some dignity (Rusty drags me along the first mile and I drag him the second half).  All in all, all good.

First Phone

Madeleine gets a mobile and somehow, just like that, we have a second adolescent in the house.  Her response: "whoopie!"

Madeleine sends me a text: Hi dad ;)
Me, that evening: "To think, I received your very first text."
Madeleine: "Actually I sent one to mom first."
Me: "Wow, I got your second text. .."
Madeleine: "I sent one to Eitan. And Zebulon too."
Me: "Was I in the top ten?"
Madeleine: "And Zakki. Oh, and Auntie Katie. Plus I sent mom three texts before you. And also Marcus."
Me:  "Well good to know you were thinking of me any way."
Madeleine: "Sure, Dad. I am saving everybody into my phone."
Me:
Madeleine: "What's your number again?"

Bake Off

Our fabulous friend Diana, whose husband Simon introduced me to Kayaking, spends the afternoon with Madeleine baking (says our gal: "It was really, really fun. We made the best sponge cake"). The last time it was bagels and before that, home-made pasta. Diana from NY and spent some time in Los Angeles as the food critic for the LA Times. More recently, Diana acepted to the UCL (University College London) Drama School for a degree in puppetry. We love this.

Eitan sells Madeleine his old goalie gloves, a bouncy ball, a poster and his wristband for 90p. Madeleine notes "I needed the goalie gloves."

Camera 101

Since I take a bunch of photos, many of them crap (see below), I attend a one-day photography course an Wimbledon.  In this shot I practise depth of field - the black dude pretty buff for 12 inches.  Thank you mom and  dad for the perfect birthday present.

Madeleine: "Is Google the Internet?"
Me: "No, Google is a search engine. You can put anything in the little bar and Google will take you there. It's how you enter the web."
Madeleine: "So Google is the web?"
Me: " No. Imagine a spider's web. . ."
Madeleine:
Me: "Everything inter-connected. And Google is like a door."
Madeleine: "A door to a spider's web?"
Me: "Well, no, but it's one way to get connected."
Madeleine: "To Google?"
Me: "Yes."
Madeleine: "And the Internet."
Me: "Yes."
Madeleine: "So Google is the Internet?"
Me: "Let's start over."

Madeleine: "Ollie had his mobile phone hacked and they locked up his games and music and stuff for 40 years."
Me: "No, way. Is he going to wait that long?"
Madeleine: "No. But he had to wipe out everything and start all over."
Me: "Disaster."
Madeleine: "I'll say. It's dangerous for a kid."
Me: "You bet it is."

Rush .. .

.. . hour. When I go into town, usually a couple times a week, I avoid the peak times, like now, pictured at Waterloo station. Mortlake station, where I begin my journey, rarely offers a free seat which means 25 minutes standing next to the dude who reads the paper and the mum who taps on her iphone. Sometimes I arm myself with a coffee and do some minor work on my bb.  Or I watch sprawling urban London go by : in Clapham there are rows of undulating terraced houses ; at Queenstown, the Battersea Power Station. And always the Thames.

Waterloo the train terminus and the commuters walk with purpose, usually to the Underground for Green Park or The City or who knows ? Waterloo station enjoyed 91 million passenger entries and exits from April 2010 to March 2011, easily busiest railway point in Britaiin; the station one of the busiest passenger terminals in Europe - it has more platforms and greater floor area than any other in the UK (but Clapham Junction has the largest number of trains). It is the terminus of a network of railway lines from Surrey, Berkshire, Hampshire, South West England and the south-western suburbs of London.

Old Friend

This sequoia about 5,000 miles from its natural habitat.  Me and him both baby.

I return to the ENT as my voice gravelly again.  And me, a salesman.  I see the very capable Mr Ahmed who informs me that he will stick a cable down my nasal passage to look at my voice box.  Unlike the last time, he offers no local anaesthetic nor gel : "I do this all the time" Ahmed says.  "If it becomes too unbearable we can stop." I mean, what's his threshold for pain ? The Indians eat chili's that make the rest of us blow up from agony.  The cable feels like something, well, jammed eight inches into my head and, weirdly, there is a sensation in my lower throat only it is behind my throat. This becomes apparent when Ahmed asks me to count to three and I produce a pitiful gargle. At this point I am sweating and have my answer to the  Lethal Weapon question (Every dude wonders, from the comfort of his home or theatre, whether he can endure the electrocution inflicted on Mel Gibson graphically presented in the movie). I would last 30 seconds.

The good news : no pallops. I may have to do some speech therapy but no need for another operation.

One Mo

Mo Farah takes the 10k-5k double transcending sport (photo Getty Images).  Bolt finishes his career by anchoring the Jamaican 4X100 relay in world record time.  The British net 64 medals including 29 gold. The Underground survives. Even the weather pretty good.  This has been one heck of a games. I am sad to see them end and wonder : what to marvel, complain, discuss and commiserate and bitch about now ?  Back to the Royal Family I guess.

“Our vision is to present to the world, in 2012, the best Games ever, for athletes, for the Olympic family, for spectators.”

--Lord Coe who, in my book, is The Dude of all things Olympics. He made it happen

Dog Days Of Summer

Dad Being Dad

I appreciate the embarrassment I cause the kids being, just, well, myself.  Of course (I presume) all parents humiliate their children somehow but I do take great enjoyment in seeing their reaction when I sing or act like a monkey or some similar such nonsense.  At some point one realises : it just does not matter but for the Shakespeares, it matters a whole lot.  I'm doing my best anyway.

We are in Kew Gardens and Sonnet and I reminisce about summers long past when, to escape the heat, we would visit here in the late evening for an outside dinner under a tree by the sunset.  The kids would crawl about, eat some grass, cry or nap.  Sometimes all four inside thirty minutes.  That was, like, another world.

Football Final - Mexico 2, Brazil 1

Last photo of the Olympics.  This one from Wembley stadium and the men's football final.  Some English dudes behind us pull for Mexico so they can yell "gringo" over and over and over.

Eitan: "I am going to do some chores. For money". [Dad's note: Eitan wants to buy an iPod].
Me: "I am good with that. How about you do the backyard?"
Eitan: "I will do the dusting for £15 and clean all the windows inside the house."
Madeleine: "£15 !?"
Me: "How about £5?"
Eitan: "Then I just won't do it."
Me: "Or you will do it for free since it's a chore."
Eitan:
Madeleine: "£15. Really, Eitan."
Sonnet: "Why don't you think about it a little bit and come back to me with a proposal this afternoon."
Eitan: "OK."
Madeleine: "I can't believe you wanted £15 just to do the dusting."