Saturday, November 28

Thanksgiving II

From Richmond Park and Eitan's race, I dash to the Battersea Arts Centre to see Madeleine's theatre production "Cloud9". Eitan joins me against his will but soon warms to the inevitability of his circumstances.

Cloud9 described in the program as "exploring the themes of escapism and loneliness in our increasingly cyber world. How does the internet work? What does it mean to be forever connected? Has loneliness become taboo? These are some of the questions we want to ask."

Madeleine is surrounded by, truly, the coolest troupe one could imagine. In school, I can imagine them as the eccentrics or odd balls but, on stage, they are natural, connected, powerful. Madeleine has been working her tail off, too, practising with the crew all week until 9PM, arriving home and crashing to bed.

Madeleine's  two minute monologue, "The Magnet", steels the show in this writer's opinion. She delivers without a hiccup, cool as a cucumber. I have not seen nor heard a rehearsal at home. I am further amazed to learn she wrote the script.

Throughout, Madeleine does an admirable job avoiding eye contact with me, Eitan and Veronica (our wonderful Czech au pair) and only at the end does she give me a direct smile. She is proud of herself, and I could not be more proud of her.

Sonnet, who arrives from Brighton where she delivers a lecture on "Fashion and Design", joins us for dinner at Valentina, a family favourite in East Sheen.

Thanksgiving

Richmond borough cross country championships
On an ordinary day, Friday, I have one of the bast days of my life.

I head to the office for a number of calls, per usual, and manage to do a run along the Thames at lunchtime (per usual). Eitan is competing the Borough Champs, which I have attended six years running, and I must dash to Richmond Park to catch him at the start-line of the 3k course.

With little ceremony, bang, the boys are off. Eitan passes the half-way mark with pain on his face, eyes blinded, and the look of a wild animal being chased for dear life. He is in the lead pack but just barely, and I think: "one of those days." But then on the second loop to the finish line there he is, relaxed and in control. His stride changed and body powerful, moving in rhythm.

Eitan has a masterful race finishing 2nd and qualifying for the Middlesex Championships. He is so pleased with his performance, and I watch as his friends hug him in congratulations. All smiles. He even lets me in his space and seeks my approval, which I give with a nod and private thumbs up. Eitan let's me take a few pictures without the usual embarrassment and resistance. Then we drive home together discussing the race details, strategy, tactics, etc. That's my kid.
Eitan and Zac, who is the No. 2 triathlete in Britain for his age group and a friend and healthy rival at the Hampton School

Rep Night

Super Mom
Sonnet takes her Hampton School "class rep" role seriously (sort of) and organises a holiday drinks at a local pub that is inconveniently hosting a "quiz night" meaning it is unusually crowded and most tables reserved. Oh, well. And traffic murder given a 150 yr old Edwardian house in Barnes collapses as the owner builds a basement, closing a main road and causing commuter havoc (the house BTW valued at £3.8m and its hard to feel sorry for the poor bastard who has disrupted our neighbourhood for his vanity project).

But I digress.  We catch up on all the local gossips from Hampton School (a rare thing since Eitan shares a few grunts when queried). On campus, the boys rebelling against a school mandate for iPads, now required from January 1, despite the majority of Eitan's year not wishing them. Eitan is pretty fired up by the cause and has talked to the head teacher and, with other boys, organised a petition against the distracting and costly devices. The boys also irked that the decision taken without their consultation. Good for them.

Meanwhile, France declares war on ISIS, supported by the British, and the bombing begins. Only too soon will this battle arrive on our doorstep. It is already here.

The Vaccines

And like that it is Saturday morning, late November, post Thanksgiving (which we will celebrate tomorrow with Halley, Willem, Zoe and Ava - who is in London today playing for Arsenal when not on the England squad. More on that later).

This past week sees yours, truly, in London sans travel reminding me of the importance of routine and just being around for the family.

Sonnet and I take advantage by going to a double header of the Palma Violets and the Vaccines at Brixton Academy on Monday with Oliver and Carol, dressed in flare bottom jeans and leather boots. The concert rocks and, dear reader, I admit to ear-plugs BUT the all embracing sensations are hardly diminished. Thank you Christian for the tickets and our shared joy of (British) music. Of course he has met both bands in LA.

Sunday, November 22

Lizzy's Party

The girls arrive for Lizzy's surprise party and Sonnet and I listen to the staccato as 12 girls anticipate the moment (Eitan rolls his eyes, contemplates the pizza, then disappears to the den - not worth it). I ring the front bell a few times, which offers some amusement.

The surprise goes off like a charm and the sugar-fuelled adrenaline reaches a crescendo with Lizzy's arrival - shock, screeches, joy - and the girls hug and cry and talk at each other and, well, bond with their tribe. Lizzy melts right in.

I have my moment as Madeleine asks me to play some music in the living room over Sonos, which I control from my notebook in the kitchen. After a few requests - she wants Justin Bieber (apparently cool again) and a bunch of pop bands I've never heard of - I crank Devo's 'Crack That Whip",  The Time's "Gigolos Get Lonely Too", and Prince's "Little Red Corvette" before I am yanked from my responsibilities.

Mall Rat

Madeleine and I head to Westfield Mall in Shepherds Bush, London, which is also the largest mall in Europe - 30 football pitches of commercial space for 400 shops and restaurants. Our gal needs a winter jacket and it is nearly Thanksgiving. Only North Face will do.

We go early, to avoid the crowds, arriving at 10AM only to find the stores open at noon on Sunday. Still, there are people walking around like zombies. What do they do otherwise ?

Finally, we find a suitable jacket in Kingston, on the other side of Richmond Park. Not wasted time, dear reader : it is a morning spent with my dear heart following a week in Amsterdam for a conference (where I am on a panel title: "Differentiation". Thrills). She always has interesting things on her mind, and today it is vampires since she reads "I Am Legend" by Richard Matheson.

Mr Saxophone

Mr Dave Ellis on the tenor saxophone, playing his sweet music. This a rough year as his mother Judith passed away in the early autumn.  Judith was a beacon and rock, and beloved member of the family and a longtime friend from the 7th grade.

Dave is one of the people who makes Berkeley real.

Knock-Out Round

Thursday Sonnet drives two hours to Essex to watch Hampton play Brentwood in the 3rd round of the ISFA Cup, coveted by the team having won the Surreys two seasons ago and Final Four in the English Schools Football Associations cup. The game is nil-nil at the end of regulation time and over-time leading to the dreaded PKs.

Hampton goes up first when Brentwood suffers nerves but in a twist of fate, the brilliant Louie who clinched the Surrey Cup, misses, and it's lights out for the season. Sonnet drives a dispirited bunch home. They sleep, Luke snores.

From there Sonnet and I meet Dale for dinner at Tom's Kitchen, made famous by the "reality" show "Made In Chelsea", which earns the kids' respect. Dale, now in Austin, Texas, has never heard of it. Go, figure.

Winter Day

Sonnet meets Karen and Stephanie for a loop of Richmond Park or about 7.5 miles. This morning it is -2 degrees, a real jolt from the unusually warm autumn and early winter so far.  It snowed in London yesterday en route to Eitan's football match.

Any how, Rusty is up for any distance, any time of day, any weather condition. I swear the dog has not mellowed at all in 6 years.

Cal loses to Stanford in the Big Game. Since played at 3:30AM GMT, I am unable to listen to Joe Starkey make the play-by-play. Once, before Disney and ESPN and all the corporates took over college football, games were played Saturday, 12:30PM local, which worked well for London. Now broadcasts are timed to reach the widest audience. Think the players' exam schedule consulted ?

On Spanish

Waitrose check out
This photo for reminds me of the little girl we left behind, replaced by a self-assured, engaging teenager.

Madeleine hosts a surprise birthday party for Izzy. Here we are, Friday evening, picking up the goods. Izzy decided not to have a party two weeks ago, on her birthday, as another friend celebrating her birthday the same day with 50 kids. Madeleine is just good like this.

Sunday morning, I wake Madeleine: "Do you want huevos rancheros for breakfast?"
Madeleine: "Huh?"
Me: "Huevos rancheros."
Madeleine: "What do you mean?"
Me: "For breakfast."
Madeleine: "Yeah, but what language were you just speaking in?"

Sunday, November 15

Black

The world mourns the innocent souls who have lost their lives in Paris. Everyone I know effected.

Saturday, November 14

Darkness

"This is an attack not just on Paris. It is an attack not just on the people of France. But this is an attack on all of humanity and the universal values we share."
--President Hollande

Tuesday, November 10

Making Out

Will, formerly known as "Willouby"
I come home Sunday afternoon, no Sonnet, to a quiet house knowing that Madeleine and Will (formerly known as Willouby) are hanging out in the house. I am momentarily cautioned that they are likely upstairs, in the bedroom, door closed. Caught off guard for some kind of strategy for the situation, Madeleine comes down the stairs in Eitan's monkey suit. Will follows with his skateboard slung over a shoulder. A reprieve. But for how long ?

Me: "And you were embarrassed by my cow suit."

Sunday, November 8

Saturday, November 7

A Date With My Gal

Madeleine and I spend Friday night watching tele and eating pizza. Tonight it is sushi at one of my favourites in W1.

Black cab drivers are generally friendly and professional. Every now and then you get the odd racist but usually they are a source of information - Like how London once got 4-5 feet of winter snow 35 years ago. Or the next up-and-coming neighbourhoods and where to get a salt beef sandwich at 3AM. So I'm caught off guard when my driver enters a rant against Muslims.  Turns out the guy once worked for Microsoft and I knew I should have taken a different cab when he begins, "I told everybody Windows 95 wasn't ready." 

I endure the assault mostly in silence. When not driving a taxi, my guy raises pure-bred poodles. It all makes sense. Or none of it does.

Thursday, November 5

On The Road Again

After a bunch of meetings in Boston, Harrisburg, Baltimore, Philadelphia, Arlington, Horsham and King Of Prussia (yes, a city in Pennsylvania) I now sit peacefully in the American Airlines ambassador lounge awaiting my flight to CDG. I return to London tomorrow evening. We are now at €1.1bn on the Astorg fundraising.

Sonnet will take Eitan to the Olympic Development Camp in Germany for the weekend and Madeleine and I have a weekend to ourselves, already interrupted as she has her theatre/ drama class all-day Saturday and wants to be with her friends Sunday. I have made a reservation at my favourite sushi restaurant Saturday evening which should hold some sway.

Beautiful Common

For November, it is remarkably hot on the Eastern Seaboard - Today, temps reach mid 60s. It feels early spring instead of late autumn.

Quel Scandale

Eric and I connect for a morning stroll across the Boston common and breakfast at a diner at the base of Beacon Hill. I am sad to see him leave, as I prepare for a day of meetings and another one on the road.

In London, a minor scandale erupts when the Guardian reports : "V&A rejects offer to showcase Margaret Thatcher's clothing," which is picked up by the BBC and the Telegraph and everyone else on Fleet Street. Tory MPs take up the cause and roundly criticises the museum - this is is the government responsible for tackling ISIS and terrorism - while the business secretary Sajid Javid goes to twitter: "I for one would have loved to see it! " On offer: 1980s power suits your grandmother would wear.

Monday, November 2

Back To School

Near Imber Court football pitches
And with a groan, Eitan and Madeleine return to school after a two-week half-term break.

The Shakespeares go from sleeping until 10AM (Madeleine) and 11AM+ (Eitan) to 6:25AM (Madeleine) and 7:05AM (Eitan).

It is evident to anybody with teenagers that teens are wired to retire late and sleep late. Why schools don't accommodate their brain schedules a mystery - learning would improve, exam results would improve. Moral and spirit would improve. Everybody benefits. Mornings are just brutal on these kids.

Sunday, November 1

Marc Eitan Reunion

Marc, Eitan's Elm Grove coach, shows up to watch Eitan and Alphie play in today's match. Marc has been a truly wonderful influence on Eitan and I only wish he could be more in his life.

Marc comments on Eitan: "He showed up at every practise ready to learn. He was a joy to coach."

Game Day Fog

Lions vs. Met Police 
The Sheen Lions play the Met Police U15s in a league game that our side wins in 3-2 but not without drama. The Lions up 2-0 at half then cede two goals and the momentum. Eitan sparks up and urges his team mates to dig deep and Joe delivers the winner: a beautiful 20 yard strike taken after he jukes the defender who thinks Joe is going for the easy angle. The boys' spirits soar. Eitan has stomach cramps following the match - something that now happens regularly after hard-fought games. Not surprising given an hour and twenty at 100%.

Eitan's Elm Grove teammate Alphie now plays for the Met Police. Alphie does a cracking job saving at least two goals that should have found net. I catch up with Alphie's Dad, Phil. Just as crazy as ever.
Post action

Pre Match

Self portrait XXXXVIII
Sonnet and I walk the dog near Eitan's football match, across a forgotten bridge next to a nearby water lock. Industrial and unexpected in Surrey. 

Eitan comes home from a Halloween party.
Me: "Was there drinking?"
Eitan: "Yeah, a little."
Me: "Was there dope?"
Eitan: "It's not like it's Berkeley, Dad."
Me to Sonnet: "Touche"

Autumnal Update

Madeleine post Halloween party
Sonnet and I have entered, some time ago, the next stage of parenting, responsible for two teenagers who have fast become independent little dudes. I once thought - correctly I might add - that we owned the Shakespeares 100% until about 8 or 9. Then it dropped to 50-50 by 11-12 and now I would say it's 20%. Or maybe 10%. Today it is all about the power of suggestion. At least, mostly.

Sonnet attends the denim conference, "Denim On Stage" in Amsterdam, the European capital of denim (she informs me). Denim is a $60bn industry with the best quality from Italy and Japan (It's kind of like Wagyu cattle or Argentine beef, I might offer). Sonnet notes the gathering of academics and industry. The conference launched by the denim fashion awards with six hot young designers vying for the title of 'denim designer of the year' and a €10k prize.
Sonnet: "We had the Godfather of modern denim, Adriano Goldschmied, who invented stone-wash and acid-washed denim. And Hisao Manabe from Japan, who founded Japan Blue, the supplier for denim collectors at crazy prices."

Me: "You have a choice. You can do the front yard work and earn some money."
Madeleine: "Or?"
Me: "You can do it for free."
Madeleine: "£15."
Me: "£8."
Madeleine: "£10."
Me: "£9."
Madeleine: "Do I have to do it today?"
Me: "Yep. You're on my time now."

Oxford Halloween

St John's College
We visit Alain and Nita in Oxford for a tea following the conference. The three Zs preparing for Halloween, friends over, watching some horror movie (shrieks from the living room). The kitchen chalk-board filled with equations I don't understand (Zebulan submitting a proof to an Oxford competition for the £500 prize).

I go for a jog along the nearby canal which takes me past the moored canal boats, narrow and long, some run down and mossy. The path muddy and by fields the one side, and Oxford houses the other. A lone man burns leaves on his baron plot; another talks to himself on his boat. It is dark from 4PM and the route spooky and appropriate. I'm happy to have it done with as the sun sets behind me.

ISIS

A photo posted by ISIS that shows the destruction of a Shiite religious site.
Sonnet and I to Oxford to attend the 'Culture In Crisis: Conflict and Cultural Heritage" where leading experts on the Middle East discuss the destruction of ancient Syria, Iraq, and Yemen treasures. It was open to the public and free to encourage an open, wide and accessible debate. Sonnet a representative of the collections on the business continuity planning committee, ie, disaster prevention.

Confucius said: "Study the past if you would define the future." In Iraq, the past is glorious and long.

This is where the world's first cities were built and where writing and organized government were first developed more than 5,000 years ago. This is the land that gave the world its first great literary work - the Epic of Gilgamesh, king of the city of Uruk - over 1,000 years before Homer, and over 2,000 years before Christ.

ISIS, like so many iconoclastic extremist groups through history, seeks to destroy the record of the past. They've just upped the ante.

"[ISIS] has been very consistent in doing two things: they destroy antiquities for effect, and they likely use the smokescreen of destruction to cover themselves while they move more transportable items for profit. It is, after all, a criminal organization."
Mark Vlasic, an adjunct professor at the Georgetown University Law Center

Sunday, October 25

What A City

The City
The financial district, taken from the 27th floor of The Shard.

The most prominent tower in the photo - 20 Fenchurch St also affectionately known as "the walkie-talkie" due to its unusual shape - curves outward at the top creating greater upper level floor space. Architecturally it is unusual. Cynically, it means higher overall rent.

Everywhere one looks, the city transformed. Last month, the biggest single development approved at Greenwich Peninsula creating 13,000 new homes, 2 schools and a 40,000sq foot film studio. Before that, The Shell Centre project will singular change the river's southside at Waterloo. A favourite building torn down for modern condos. My train ride into town leaves a city almost unrecognisable from ten years ago. One giant sprawling mess representing millions of battles, compromises, sacrifices, corruptions, gains and losses. But oh so valuable.

Autumn Season

Eitan runs the first cross country race of the year, a relay in Guilford where each of three runners completes 2.5k.  Eitan reckons there were twenty teams and Hercules Wimbledon take fourth place. The boy takes the first leg, delivering sixth place, while Zac and Sam bring up the rankings on the back half.  The course is a "mildly hilly park trail" leaving the competitors to fend for themselves on the wet narrow path.  Eitan's strategy is to "go off with the leading pack and stick with it."  He notes further:  "Painful. I was running with a Kingston runner all the way but he overtook me in the end."

The Orensteins to Paris last night only dad forgets the keys to the flat in the Marais and we miss the last Eurostar by a few minutes. Since Zuma and Nobu fully booked, Eitan and I stay up late watching 'Halloween' while Sonnet makes late night steak followed by ice cream and cookies.

The pumpkins have been carved.
Zac, Eitan and Sam

Sunday, October 18

Self Portrait XXXXVII

Me: "Do you want to do some meditation with me?" [Dad's note: I am experimenting with meditation and mindfulness]
Madeleine: "No."
Me: "Tell you what. You have a choice. You can walk the dog. Do maths homework or meditate with me. What's it going to be"
Madeleine: "Do I have to answer?"
Me: "Yes."
Madeleine: "Meditate."
Me: "So we will do some breathing exercises, concentrating on the air passing by our nose or throat and just relaxing."
Madeleine: "Isn't this like taking a nap?"
Me: "Roll with it. You are meant to fall awake, not asleep."
Madeleine: "What's the point?"
Me: "It will make you feel better, in better control of your thoughts. Grow white brain matter. Be smarter."
Madeleine: "Do I have to?"

IKEA Date

Madeleine asks me - seriously - to take her and her friends to IKEA on a Saturday evening and so I do. It's Madeleine, Maddy, Theia and Izzy. An excellent crew. I listen to them giggle and hyperventilate on the ride to Wembley at 6PM.  I try to become invisible, just a fly on the wall, as the girls discuss clothes and school and boys.

Honestly, IKEA is exhausting but what a place to people watch: an Indian grandma tests a sofa mattress by laying on it spread eagle. A Russian couple with baby check out tables and kids race about in the trolleys risking death and the wrath of, well, me. I count it as a cultural experience.

I ask the cashier the busiest time? And she tells me the weekend, which is fair enough, but Saturday evening ? It's when people can do it.

And this: The company is responsible for approximately 1% of world commercial-product wood consumption.

Madeleine: "I'm kind of over IKEA."

Saturday, October 17

ManU Is Sharp

Eitan wears his favorite top, a retro 1980s ManU jersey, a gift from Christian.

Sharp Electronics the first Man U shirt sponsor with an an initial five-year deal worth £500,000, beginning in the 1982–83 season. The relationship lasted 18 years until Vodafone agreed a four-year, £30 million shirt deal in 2000. 

More recently, in 2012, United signed a seven-year deal with General Motors which replaced Aon as the shirt sponsor from the 2014–15 season. The $80m/ year shirt deal is worth $559m over seven years and features the Chevrolet logo, which is kind of bunk for a Premiere League team.

Friday night and Sonnet returns late from Venice and Florence where she has spent the week visiting historical archives to research aspects of Italian fashion. Eitan ducks into the living room to inform me he is off to football practice while Madeleine at a sleep-over. Veronica exits for friends and drinks. This leaves me and Rusty, so I kick up my feet and watch the Coen Brothers' "Blood Simple" and could not be happier.

Sunday, October 11

A Young Man

The boy now eats a sandwich (as I write), followed by a bowl of cereal. It's 6PM so dinner in one hour. We have stopped fighting it : As Sonnet says, "bottomless pit." I am reminded of his enormous loving Jamaican day-care taker, Eitan age 1, who frequently commented on Eitan's appetite ("That boy loves his food").

Anthony stops by to watch the Australian-Wales rugby match and catch us up on things: he is moving from Islington to Clapton in Hackney, East London, which is now the next uber cool location as the East End  pushes towards the Olympics Park. Once known for it's 'Murder Mile' - stretch of tarmac that was once known as Britain's deadliest by murder as recently as 2002. Now the gays have moved in, followed by the hipsters, artists and techies serviced by trendy bars, bakeries and cafes. It is still urban gritty, I understand, but filled with young people trying to comfort themselves of their anxieties or revel in their youth.

Anthony's business, Barmetrix, provides operational and cost management software for bars. He has 40 clients, all of whom need to be serviced. Over a pint, of course. 

Me: "Eitan how does it feel to be 15?"
Eitan: "Good."
Me: "Anything else?"
Eitan: "It feels a lot older."
Me:
Eitan: "Than 14."


Wednesday, October 7

An Email From David C

How convenient
All bullets
Cameron knows
Our attention span is very
weak

I believe we’re on the brink of something special in our country.
This year, we’ve seen more people in work than at any time in our history; more of our children starting university than ever before; more British entrepreneurs setting up shop than anywhere else in Europe.
Wages are rising. Hope is returning. We’re moving into the light.
But we’re not there yet. We’re only halfway through.
We can make this era – these 2010s – a defining decade for our country: the turnaround decade.
And our goal is a Greater Britain.
With strong defence and a strong economy.
An NHS that there’s for everybody, and schools that stretch our children.
And over the next five years we will show that the deep problems in our society are not inevitable.
That a childhood in care doesn’t have to mean a life of struggle.
That a stint in prison doesn’t mean you’ll get out and do the same thing all over again.
That being black, or Asian, or female, or gay doesn’t mean you’ll be treated differently.
A Greater Britain – made of greater expectations.
Where renters become homeowners, employees become employers, a small island becomes an even bigger economy, and where extremism is defeated once and for all.
A country raising its sights, its people reaching new heights.
A Greater Britain – made of greater hope, greater chances, greater security.

Sunday, October 4

Record Board

Berkeley High School pool
30 years and still there for the 200 and 500y freestyle, earned with hard work during a different era : distance swimming was all about .. distance. My technique as an age-grouper never so good - I relied on a two best cross over which supported a fairly rapid stroke turn-over (to keep the body aligned and hips neutral, my legs crossed in sync with my arms and following two natural kicks or "beats").  Ten miles a day, back-and-forth, in a 25 yard pool.

Today, thanks to guys like Matt Biondi and, famously, Ian Thorpe who single-handedly defeated the Americans in the 4x200 m freestyle relay in the 2004 Australian Olympics, the technique is more about front glide and catch-up. I use this today (having watched Thorpe and others on youtube) and cut my stroke from 20-21 rotations a lap to 12. Just like that.

Regardless of those times back then, swimming introduced me to a committed group of fabulous people. It also introduced structure into my life (6AM swim ! 3PM swim!) which helped my schoolwork and studies. There was no time for goofing off. It gave me my confidence.

Now I find lap swimming a challenge given the boredom. I can barely do 1500m.  What we did then ? No way now.

Fashion Fashion

Magdalen Frackoic
Sonnet joins me in Paris (I have a temporary residence in the 4e) during Fashion Week to see Dior, Issey Miyake and Lowe and Rick Owens. Glamour is everywhere with exhibition tents set up in the Louvre courtyard, Tuileries and Place de la Concorde. Paris buzz's with models, gay dudes and the fashionistas who I think are all hanging out in the Marais after a day on Rue Faubourg St Honoree.

Hussein Chalayan's exhibition included two outfits (Sonnet describes) worn by women who stood motionless throughout the catwalk show. Towards the end, a shower of water cascaded down from the ceiling drenching them and dissolving their clothes (they wore outfits underneath). Before Sonnet describes the spectacle I see it on Vine.

Eitan's Lions lose to Barnes in Surrey Cup action in a tense match that sees our side go down on the dreaded PKs. Eitan had a shot to end the match with minutes to go on a free-kick from 35m out but his perfectly placed ball sails several inches high. Them are the breaks.

Saturday, October 3

Buzz Words

I pick up Eitan and Luke at Hampton following their football match against Ardingly (Hampton wins 3-2). Traffic delays the return by 1.5 hours and, to pass the time, I stretch followed by some mindfulness training on a bench, then by a sun nap. Me to Eitan: "Basically all the things that embarrass you." Eitan: "Yeah."

I give Madeleine an afternoon lift to the train station.
Me: "What are you going to do in Clapham?"
Madeleine: "I dunno."
Me: "Are you going shopping? Hanging out? Coffee?"
Madeleine: "Hanging out. I don't drink coffee."
Me: "With whom?"
Madeleine: "Some friends."
Me: "Boys? Girls? Both?"
Madeleine: "Both."
Me: "Does it make it more interesting with boys?"
Madeleine: "Yeah, I guess."
Me: "Do you guys sit about and giggle?"
Madeleine: "OK, Dad, train's here."

I overhear Madeleine describe 'The Road' to Gracie: "It's a dystopian novel."
Me to Sonnet: "That's a hundred grand on education well spent."

Thursday, October 1

Belated 15

Eitan turns 15 on the last day of September.

Engaged in school, sport, family and friends, Eitan wears his heart on sleeve yet keeps his cool, too, when things don't go to plan. In this regard, we have always had faith in Eitan's ability to deliver the goods. Sometimes this nets unreasonaby high expectations but he handles the external (parental) pressure with aplomb and seems genuinely pleased with the life balance he enjoys.

Eitan is also a good brother. Sure, just like any older brother, he is sometimes unaware of his biggest fan but Eitan is mostly aware of Madeleine. They have shared swimming and athletics; sometimes dog walks (at least who does it) and household chores (mostly without complaint). This summer Eitan and Madeleine endured Outward Bound in the Scottish Highlands. Last year it was 2,000 miles in a car, side-by-side, along a two lane blacktop. I expect their friendship to be a gift well beyond their years at 45.

Eitan's accomplishments in 2015 have been numerous : chosen team captain for the Sheen Lions, Hampton School in the Final Four of the English School Football Association, reaching 5'10, strong marks in his coursework (lots of praise from teachers), and a  4:34 in the 1500m..

Mostly Eitan is happiest tucking into an afternoon bacon sandwich, plopping down on the sofa for a ManU game, contemplating his next lie in.

How proud we are of this thoughtful and intelligent young man who blooms before us.

Tuesday, September 29

Moira Gemmel, 1959-2015

Sonnet attends the memorial of Moira Gemmel, a 13 year colleague at the V&A and the Director of Design. Moira died in a collision with a tipper lorry on her way to work in April. 55 years old.

Here is the Guardian's obituary:
Moira Gemmill, who has died aged 55 in a cycling accident, joined the Victoria and Albert Museum, London, as head of design in 2002. By the time she left at the end of 2014 to take up a post with the Royal Collection Trust, she had played a key role in transforming the institution that bills itself as the world’s greatest museum of art and design.

When she started, the V&A was, in every sense, notoriously difficult to navigate. Different systems of signage abounded and a variety of vested interests prevented any change. But Moira would brook no opposition and in what seemed like no time a new, coherent and elegant scheme by the graphic consultants Holmes Wood was soon rolled out. She was someone who knew what she thought and said what she meant: a breath of fresh air began to move through the museum.

She went on to develop what was called FuturePlan, and we worked together on this for 10 years. The principles were simple: work with and value the architecture and decoration of the V&A’s complex of historic buildings, open up views so that people would know where they were and be tempted on to see what was coming next, bring natural light into the galleries, provide views both to the outside world and to the garden within, which became the museum’s public hub, and find ways to make sense of the sequence and adjacencies of different displays.

It sounds simple, but it was a long, difficult and demanding process, which she led from 2005 onwards as director of projects and design. It also required charm, steely determination, a clear and coherent understanding of the overall picture and the confidence to tell me, as director, and the trustees when they were wrong. She also had to argue away the light-phobic shibboleths so sadly common among conservators and curators.

The more than 40 projects that she realised with architects and designers included two by Softroom, the Jameel gallery of Islamic art and the Sackler education centre, with its cunning reuse of the difficult spaces in the wing named after the museum’s first director, Henry Cole. She also oversaw the reinstatement and reopening of the original tearooms; Ewa Jiricna’s shop, sculpture gallery and exquisite jewellery gallery; great medieval and renaissance galleries by the architects MUMA; the ceramic galleries by Stanton Williams and the ceramic study galleries by Opera Amsterdam, and the elegant fashion gallery by 6a. Away from the South Kensington site were the Museum of Childhood by Caruso St John in Bethnal Green, east London, and the Clothworkers’ Centre by Haworth Tomkins at Blythe House, Kensington Olympia.

This represented a rate of progress easily excelling anything seen at the V&A since the 19th century. And at the same time Moira steered through the competition to design new exhibition galleries on Exhibition Road, won by Amanda Levete, with whom she worked very closely. A great promoter of new talent and an ardent feminist, Moira was the most demanding and discerning commissioner of projects, sometimes quite scary, never letting her high standards drop, but also a funny, kind and supportive colleague and boss.

She loved design for its own sake, but also believed that it served a public purpose: that good design could make life better and more pleasurable for everybody. She hoped that, little by little, the work that she led would transform the experience of those who came to the V&A so that it would feel cared for and tended, light and airy, tranquil and engaging. So the ladies’ loos needed to be lovely. Designed by Glowacka Rennie, they needed an art installation to make them really special, and I was sent to persuade the Paris-based Swiss artist Felice Varini that this was the right location for work by him. Installations, like the Random International studio's Swarm III, were commissioned for otherwise neglected spaces and what might have been an ordinary fire-escape became, thanks to Jim Eyre’s design, the beautiful ceramic galleries bridge. Moira hoped, as Cole had, that those who knew the V&A would become impatient with unnecessary and spirit-sapping ugliness and demand better in every aspect of their lives.

Always immaculately presented, Moira loved London and was the most urban of people. Yet she was born in Campbeltown, Argyll, the principal town of the Kintyre peninsula, and grew up on a remote farm in Kintyre, daughter of Helen and John Gemmill. She always retained a love of the region’s wild landscape, her family and family home, and for all things Scottish, tartan very much included. From Campbeltown grammar school, under the eye of her mother, who taught there, Moira went on to study graphic design and photography at Glasgow School of Art. This was a turning point. Though enjoying extracurricular activities far too much to be a model student, she loved the art school, found herself, and met the circle of friends who remained with her throughout her life.

After graduating in 1981 she moved to Aberdeen, where she helped set up Citygirl, a listings magazine that was lively and fun but eventually went bust. So Moira got a job at Aberdeen Art Gallery and found herself planning and staging exhibitions, under the directorship of the artist Ian McKenzie Smith.

In 1997 she became head of design and exhibitions at the Museum of London, under Simon Thurley. There, working alongside Magdalen Fisher, who became her closest friend, she was responsible for exhibitions including London Bodies, Terence Donovan's London and Vivienne Westwood. She also oversaw long-term displays such as the World City Gallery and a network of “outsites” that showed archaeological finds where they had been discovered.

A Scottish dimension to Moira’s legacy will come in 2017 with the opening of V&A Dundee, a scheme to take the V&A’s name and exhibitions north and create a design centre for Scotland. She also took charge of the V&A’s pioneering relationships with two Indian institutions: the Dr Bhau Daji Lad Museum, Mumbaii, and the National Institute of Design, Ahmedabad, Gujarat. The exhibition programme, which on Moira’s initiative employed so many emerging designers, gave rise to more V&A exhibitions travelling to more places around the world than from any other museum. An honorary fellow of the RIBA, a judge of the Architect’s Journal Women in Architecture awards and chair of the V&A Illustration Awards, Moira excelled at finding ways to ensure that the winners she wanted got the recognition she knew they deserved.

As director of capital programmes at the Royal Collections Trust, Moira had been looking forward to the opportunity to work on Windsor Castle, Buckingham Palace and Holyrood Palace in Edinburgh. Brave, brilliant and beautiful, she was the brightest and best of a generation that transformed the V&A.

She is survived by her parents, her brother, Andrew, and sister, Jennifer.

Moira Gemmill, design director, born 18 September 1959; died 9 April 2015

Sunday, September 27

Back To The Pitch

Eitan crosses
Eitan has a weekend of football: Yesterday it's Hampton v. Eton (nil-nil) and today it's the Lions v. Ashford Town - another pitch close to Heathrow airport (The clubhouse bar open at 12 noon, when we arrive, and it's a line for the beer and hard liquor). 

On the pitch, the Lions up 2-0 before succumbing to an equally matched team who score 4 unanswered points before Sheen claws back one to make it a respectable 4-3.  Eitan says: "It was disappointing." Me: Is that it? Eitan: Yes.

So, meanwhile, the Rugby World Cup going on in the background. Since many of the games held at Twickenham Stadium in Richmond, it is impossible to miss the action (and traffic). Last night Eitan and Shaheen go to Richmond Fields to watch the England vs. Wales on a number of super sized outdoor screens set up for the occasion. The entire country watch England lose in the last 10 minutes. These dudes are big. Hard to say the more brutal: Rugby or American football. The latter have helmets which serve as a battering ram and the offensive/defensive line take 60 collisions a game equal to a 25 mph car crash. More concussions, too.

My tomato vines deliver a wonderful autumnal fruit. These babies have been with me since April and I'm always sad to see them go. Daylight savings can't be far away.

Christian And Lisa Get Married

Deb and Lisa
Christian's wedding a wonderful affair full of joy and celebration.

The weekend starts Thursday afternoon in Palm Springs for poolside drinks under the shade of the massive San Jacinto Mountains which rise up behind us. People arrive from near and far including friends I have known for 30 years or more.

Christian an I get some solo time on a Friday morning 70 minute run in the boiling desert which nearly defeats me but he shrugs off, no worries. From there is is the evening reception, sunshine yoga, toasts, dinner and (of course) dancing including a late night "silent disco" where the DJ spins tunes heard via our headphones creating a strangely intense and intimate scene (and allowing us revellers to keep going well into the night ).

The nuptials overseen by Berkeley friend Perry whose battle, and win, against cancer makes her words the more deep. Eric's poem rings true and Paula's singing and dancing to "More Than A Woman" brings it all home. I reflect on our friendship and our love of music that binds us. The sun sets and the party begins.
Sonnet and Stephanie
Most of all I am overjoyed that my dear friend Christian has found somebody so perfectly suited for him and the rest of his life. Lisa part of the extended Berkeley family.
Paula and Christian
Cal defeats Texas on a Texas missed PAT in the final seconds of the game (scores reported to guests)

Joshua Tree

Yucca Brevifolia
We spend the day in Joshua Tree National Park, about an hour's drive from Palm Springs.

Only found here in the Mojave Desert is the Joshua tree, the largest of the yuccas. Its height varies from 15-40 feet with a diameter of 1-3 feet. They grow 2 to 3 inches a year, takes 50 to 60 years to mature and they can live 150 years.

Joshua trees (and most other yuccas) rely on the female pronuba moth for pollination. No other animal visiting the blooms transfers the pollen from one flower to another. In fact - the female yucca moth has evolved special organs to collect and distribute the pollen onto the surface of the flower. She lays her eggs in the flowers' ovaries, and when the larvae hatch, they feed on the yucca seeds.

Without the moth's pollination, the Joshua tree could not reproduce, nor could the moth, whose larvae would have no seeds to eat. Although old Joshua trees can sprout new plants from their roots, only the seeds produced in pollinated flowers can scatter far enough to establish a new stand.

Mormon pioneers are said to have named this species "Joshua" tree because it mimicked the Old Testament prophet Joshua waving them, with upraised arms, on toward the promised land. This unique species grows abundantly at Joshua tree.
(Source: park info guide)

Downtown LA

Morning sun, up since 2AM
We fly to Los Angeles en route to Palm Springs and CW's wedding to Lisa.  We stay at The Standard in Downtown Los Angeles where we meet Catherine and Catherine's daughter Anneke for a game of ping-pong followed by dinner.

It is hard not to be struck by Los Angeles, which is clearly on the move. Downtown, which was deserted in the 1980s and 90s, is back with new skyscrapers on the build, the Broad Museum (Eli Broad, the wealthy founder) opening this month, the hipsters found across the valley sprawl. Hollywood and Trojan football. 10 lanes of traffic.

Los Angeles was always the superior city to San Francisco in size, culture and  arts, then overtaken during the early halcyon days of Silicon Valley until recently, as San Francisco rents go through the roof and anybody outside of tech (and only a few inside tech) can afford to live there.  It's become an outpost for Google and Facebook and Twitter and AirBNB employees.

Sonnet's Russian Hill studio was $800 or $900 a month while today likely 5 or 6x that (It was a lovely flat with bay views from nearby cross street of Union and Jones; there was always parking but sometimes it took some circling).


Monday, September 14

Some Dialogue

Sonnet: "I want your mobile phones. 6PM. That's the rule."
Madeleine: "No way."
Me: "It's the house rule. I have nothing to do with it."
Madeleine: "Who makes the house rule then?"
Me: "Talk to your mother. She's the Executive Director."
Sonnet: "Executive Director?"
Madeline: "I am not giving up my mobile phone. I need it to wake up in the morning."
Me: "I will wake you up in the morning. Jump in the bed, smother you with kisses."
Madeleine: "No way."
Sonnet: "I'll wake you up then."
Madeleine: "Uh, I don't trust you."
Sonnet:
Madeleine: "There was that one time you didn't wake me up."
Me: "Yeah, Sonnet, one time in four years. I wouldn't trust you either."
Madeleine: "I'm not giving up my phone."
Eitan: "I'm good with it."
Madeleine: "OK. I'll right a contract then."
Me: "Now we're talking. 'I, Madeleine, can keep my mobile phone until 8PM.' "
Madeleine:
Me: "And I will do the dishes.. .."
Madeleine: "Yeah, right."
Me: "Until 2017."
Madeleine: "No way!"
Me: "I'm just getting started. Then there's the backyard... "
Madeleine: "May I be excused ?"
Me: "Sure. Just leave your phone on the counter."
Madeleine: "I'm not giving up my mobile phone. ..."

Eitan: "I want to go to Airhop instead of Thorpe Park" [Dad's note: Eitan's 15th birthday, with a bunch of friends, is coming up. Airhop is a 'trampoline world' while Thorpe Park is an amusement park.]
Me: "You'd rather go on a trampoline than a terrifying roller coaster?"
Eitan: "Yeah, I guess."
Me: "Why don't you just go over to Helen and Martin's and use their trampoline?"
Eitan:
Me: "You guys can pick apples."
Eitan:
Me: "And make apple pies."
Eitan: "Dad we are not going to make apple pies."
Me: "We can all wear aprons."
Eitan: "Whatever."
Me: "It's all set then. It's going to be the best 15th birthday ever."
Eitan:
Me: "Shall I text the gang?"
Sonnet: "Your Dad is just joking. I think."

Sunday, September 13

Inglorious Beginning

Stag Brewery football pitch
It's all the same to Rusty and just as well as the Lions open their season losing 2-nil to The Barnes Eagles, an inferior team, who barely avoided relegation last year. The Eagles are a bogey who play us well and today no different : we had possession maybe 80% of the game and missed some easy shots  - Eitan had a long chip shot hit the upright and Louie missed an open goal he would otherwise hit in his sleep. Eitan takes it hard as team captain. We have a quiet ride home.

So what to make of Jeremy Corbyn, the new Leader of Labour, moving the party to the left and receiving commendation from Russia and Hamas ? Half his ministers bolt rather than serve under his extreme positions on defence, spending, tax and governing.  It seems Labour coming unhinged following this year's elections. Blair brought Labour to the middle and retained power for 13 years. If Labour fractures it could mean the end of them. But Corbyn could be exactly what Labour and the country need: Fresh thinking, a different vision and a new way forward.

Eitan: "I'm going out. To a party."
Me: "Oh?"
Eitan: "Yeah. It's in Teddington."
Me: "Who's party? Who are the parents?"
Eitan: "It's a girl from LEH." [Dad's note: Lady Elanore Holles is an all-girls sister school to Hampton school.]
Me: "Why am I just hearing about it now? [Dad's note: It is 6PM, Saturday]
Eitan: "Mom knows about it." [Text: Sonnet do you know about a party tonight? Sonnet: I know nothing about a party]
Me: "How are you going to get there?'"
Eitan: "Um, by bus. To meet some friends in Richmond. Then we will go to Teddington together."
Me: "How?"
Eitan" "I don't know. Bus again or something."
Me: "And how will you get home?"
Eitan: "Why do you have to make such a big deal out of these things?"
Me: "Because I'm your father and we have rules in this house." [Dad's note to Moe: Life repeats itself]
Eitan: "Ok, I won't go then."
Me: "Sounds about right."

Sunday, September 6

Super Sonnet

Our gal at mile 13
On a chilly Surrey morning, Sonnet bangs out the Richmond Half Marathon, somehow sneaking in the training since winter. The course starts in Kew Gardens, runs along the Thames until Ham House, then returns to finish at Old Deer Park near the Richmond High Street. While (she insists) it was not for time, her 1:50 puts her pretty close to the PB of 1:48 she ran four years ago when she was bloody well trained. It is a celebration.

Eitan in Bitburg, Germany, this weekend for the Olympic Development Program (ODP) that assesses and selects players to join the player pool for ODP Europe.  If successful, he will be invited back to future camps to train at a high level and compete with local European teams.  Sonnet drops our man off at the airport, 6AM, and off he goes with a few dads and the other ODP hopefuls.

The Cal Bears win their opener in style against Grambling State, a lesser team in a lesser division. Still, hope springs eternal.

Friday, September 4

Back To School

And with an abrupt summer's end, Eitan and Madeleine return to school, 10th and 9th grade, respectively (since the UK begins formal education one year before the US, they are in the equivalent of 9th and 8th grades). Even worse: homework the first day. Only Rusty is happy to have everybody up at such an early hour.

Eitan enters the GCSE zone (General Certificate of Secondary Education) which determines where he will go to university - unlike US colleges which look for rounded candidates who excel in sport or music or the arts, Britain mostly ties its future generation to several standardised tests. This places a huge burden on the kids to deliver on the day, which I do not favour. Eitan and Madeleien will spend the 18 months revising. The school system is optimised for the test, new learning be damned.
The GCSEs are rigorous, recognised abroad, taken in a number of subjects usually over two years, with students selecting a handful of electives.  Eitan will tackle history, geography and drama.

Sonnet, too, gears up for the fall: her next exhibition (2017) will be on Cristobal Balenciga. She is invited to speak on post-Second WW fashion in Italy at a conference in Brighton and to contribute a chapter to a book on same for early 2016. Me, I've got €2bn to raise.