Good Bye Katie

Katie is a good vibe

We say our sad farewells to Katie and I drive my sister to the airport. It was too brief a visit and a wonderful holiday gift to be together.

As I watch Katie disappear into the gate, I walk over to a Cafe Nero in Terminal 2 to do some work. A bit weird, I admit, but it is a chill and friendly cafe which I pass frequently on my way to somewhere so today - I sit. Tapping away on my notebook, I overhear conversations from different pre-boarders : the three teenage girls who giggle about who's cute and how often they change their pants (not enough); the foreign exchange student who talks America with her British hosts; the security guards who talk about their year-end bonus.

Madeleine searches the charity shops for vinyls and returns home with Lenard Skynyrd, Tears For Fears and John Cougar Mallencamp for 1 quid each. She is ecstatic with her records, which sound excellent on her turntable. And I was concerned her collection would turn into a money-suck; instead, it is a lesson on how to find value.

Frozen Sunrise

Two Storm Wood

A freezing fog settles over Richmond Park as the temperatures nestle at -2 degrees. Enough to freeze one's fingers inside a glove.

Madeleine and I leave the grocery store.
Madeleine: "OMG Dad. Do you have to do that?"
Me: "What?" [Dad's note: I use the grocery bags as barbells].
Madeleine: "That. Everybody's looking."
Me: "No they're not. And if they were - so what."
Madeleine: "I am not walking with you. Please walk ahead." [Dad's note: I do some squats at the intersection].
Me: "Don't you want me to be healthy?"
Madeleine: "I want you to be a block away."

A Strong Woman

Pembroke Lodge parking lot

Sonnet after the Parkrun race in Richmond Park.
I also run the 5K course in a time of 22:10 hurting all the way. Sonnet reminds that I am out of shape, have not raced in a year and (dread of dreads) turning 50 next year. OK, the last one was mine, but still : the salad days are behind me.
My running came together for five years between 27 and 32 or 33. During this time I could train (Help The World See and b school) and I knew how to run (relaxation equals speed). I completed a half-marathon in 1:16, broke an hour for the 10-mile and clocked 36 minutes on a 10k around Lake Merritt, Oakland. By the mid-30s the miles caught up and the injuries settled in to stay. Sonnet, however, inspires having run a PB last month in the 10K.
But the point of my blog : Sonnet keeps the household together during the long holiday season and always. Her presence is calming and something I value and I rely on. There is no one I enjoy talking to more. And she is more beautiful than the day I met her, June 5, 1993.

Zakkai

The mother and child reunion

Zakkai will also take the GCSEs in 2017. He is focusing on the sciences and will likely study mathematics and philosophy in university. He is also Scarecrow in his school's production of 'The Wizard of Oz' and recently selected to play in an Oxford production of Romeo and Juliet.  Mostly he's a confident and engaged kid who does not seem overly pressurised by his future. 

When we last saw Zebulon (Zakkai's older brother) he was finishing his A-Levels, having scored 12 A* on his GCSEs (perfect). He now awaits the decision from Cambridge to study computer sciences. He has already been accepted to Imperial College and others, but Cambridge is where he wants to be. Zebulon bides the time writing an algorithm to observe how viruses spread from mosquito to the human population. 

Alain, moving on from the famous eigenstrains, is set to publish his book "The Mathematics and Mechanics of Biological Growth" which can be pre-ordered on Amazon for Gbp 100. He hopes to make it required reading for his graduate students.

We circle the table discussing goals for 2017. Mine: finish Game Of Throwns and meditate.

A Dog's Life

No 1 dog in England

I meet Ben West who is tending his sheep. We strike up a conversation about his border collie, a dog that responds to the whistle and keeps the 60 odd sheep whole.  

A couple months ago I was on an estate outside Amsterdam and observed the world champion border collie in action - a remarkable animal, selected by its master for an enthusiasm for sheep. It's all the dog thinks of, sheep. And herding them. Any damn dog can be smart. It's passion one looks for.

So it turns out that Ben and his dog were No. 1 in the England sheep dog competitions in 2012 and he is on his way to Amsterdam to compete in the world championships next month. 

Funny what one learns when one talks to somebody, anybody.

Ancient Forrests

Spooky woods

We are in the lovely lull between Christmas and the New Year when the only thing to do is go with the flow. Nobody answers emails. Shops are mostly closed. London is cold and a good book beckons. As I read "A Song Of Fire And Ice", all five volumes at c.800 pages each, I have a week before work becomes a distraction.

We drive to Oxford to walk the Wytham Woods, an area of ancient woodlands owned by Oxford and used for environmental research. The woods were bequeathed the university in 1942 by the ffennel family, after the death of their lonely daughter, Hazel, for their upkeep, study and educational use. There are over 500 species of vascular plants and 800 species of butterflies and moths here.

Wytham is one of the most researched woodlands in the world from birds to badgers and, more recently, the impacts of climate change.

‘Let this wretched year come to an end.’

--George R.R. Martin summarises 2016

Katie In Oxfordshire

Rogue One

Gracie and Maggie

Gracie has her last chemo session today, something we have been waiting for since September and are so very grateful it is almost over. 

We spend Boxing Day at the new Star Wars movie, Rogue One, then - at home - we watch the original, which is far superior to the prequels and sequels. I point this out to Simon and his son Michael, who are off to catch the 1927 five hour silent film 'Napoléon' showing at the London Film Institute. Can't really compete with that.

Don't Fear The Reaper

RIP

Prince, David Bowie, Maurice White (Earth, Wind and Fire), Lenard Cohen, Paul Katner (Jefferson Airplane), Glenn Fry (The Eagles), Phife Dawg (Tribe Called Quest), Merle Haggard (country music legend) and now George Michael.  Our icans leave us, and most in the prime of their lives or, at least, before 60.

1987 was the year of Michael's 'Faith' and it was unmissable especially if a sophomore in college. Funk Nights at Brown grooved to his pop, as did the discotheques in Manhattan and San Francisco where I sometimes went. His raw style - those ripped jeans and urban boots ! The sunglasses and hair ! - had a most profound impact, even if not fully credited to GM. From Each Finchley, London, he reached full scale in America.

Mike, the federal judge and lifelong friend who married me and Sonnet, once informed: "your 50s are the killing fields", as life's poor living choices come home to roost. In this decade, which I will soon enter, death is unexpected and mortality still in reach. Smoking, booze, drugs and fast food diets and just living mow the unfortunate down early.

Brexit Encore

Shell shocked

Of the Big Decisions impacting my life this year I am 0 for 3: Heathrow Third Runway, Brexit and Trump.  A Gbp 1000 bet on all three occurring would have won over a mil. I believe it: only H3 seemed possible given the craven nature of the Tory government and a need for more jumbos, no matter how pollutive and disruptive to the millions of us underneath. But Trump ? (I immediately cancelled my twitter account).

The worst of the three however, Brexit, will take one generation to succeed, similar to the post Second World War period, with over 30,000 civil servants to be focused on renegotiating some 240 post war treaties which each took, on average, 7 years to sign. It will effect an aeon.

To look at the currency collapse or minor econ bumps/ slowdowns is foolhardy; long-term, we will see a decline of London's influence as global banks shift to the continent for access to the trading block while other services, like currency clearing houses, move to Frankfurt. The young, hungry and educated will find their opportunities elsewhere.  I would have.

London, dear reader, exports over £25b of wealth py to the rest of the country (compare this to Paris, which absorbs France's income) and the Southeast accounts for Britain's growth. Messing with the engine is dangerous and, at a minimum, the jewel of the crown will become less .. interesting.

Boxing Day Peace

Madeleine reads 'Hotel New Hampshire' by John Irving

We are re-doing the interior of our house - new floors installed, pictured, and now it is on to the other stuff like bathrooms, painting and the upstairs. Rusty has already raised a leg to Madeleine's newly laid carpet. If we did not love the pooch so, he would be in a potato sack at the bottom of the Thames.

Christmas 2016 has come. And gone. The Big Gifts this year were a virtual reality head-set (Eitan) and a record player and some vinyls (Madeleine). A new record btw costs £22, far different from the affordable disks I once bought on Telegraph Ave at Rather Ripped Records and Rasputin's for five bucks each. Ah, what a joy to lose oneself for hours flipping through the stacks, years before CDs killed the album cover and the feelings they inspired in us kids.  Then hitting Comics And Comics and Blondie's Pizza for a Coke and a slice for the walk across the Berkeley Campus and home. Allowance well spent.

But I digress.

The gift to the whole family is Katie. Pretty cool to have a younger sister. Who lives in Manhattan. Who has founded a business transforming how ideas circulate in media and is influencing media.

(Spider) Web

A tree by our house

It has been a busy year that is now drawing to a close. Katie arrived two days ago to spend Christmas with us. She is a wonder with her nephew and niece, making them laugh, talk and think in a way Sonnet and I can't touch in our routine conversations. 

Eitan revises for his mock exams in January then the real thing, the long-anticipated GCSEs, in April-May. Madeleine studies for January exams as well.  

Yes, there is a lot to be thankful for, even 2016, a year of populism, racism, sexism, exit-ism, anti-semitism, Trumpism,  plagiarism, voter fraud and general treachery. The jackels are back in power and we, the people, without Hunter S Thompson or Alex Cockburn to shine a light on what will certainly be the most corrupt administration to ever hold High Office in America. Those who voted for the man will surely be punished for it (Health Insurance ? Blue collar jobs ? Transparency and freedom ? Good bye to all that). None of us will be the better for it.

Day Trippers

Madeleine, Alphie, Eitan, Fred and Shaheen

It's a motley crew, no doubt, but they do return within 15 minutes of the instructed 7:15PM meeting time. Madeleine reports that she and Alphie explored Paris by foot but mostly in the marais getting there along the Seine. Eitan - well, who knows ? - but the boys seemed to have had a great time.  

It is a pleasure to be around this group. Friendly and polite to other people and adults almost to a fault yet wrapped up in their own world of interests and insults and things that young people do.

Me: "What's the name of the train station?"
Eitan: "Umm .."
Me: "Alphie, what's the name of the train station?"
Alphie:
Me: "Ok, its Gare du Nord. This is where we are meeting this evening. Each of you say it."
Eitan: "We get it Dad."
Me to Shaheen: "Train station?"
Shaheen: "Gare du Nord."
Me to Fred: "Train station?"
Shaheen: "Gare du Nord."
Me to Alphie: "Where are we meeting tonight?"
Alphie: "Gare du Nord."
Me: "You have my mobile. Call me from the police station."
Madeleine: "Ha-ha-ha, Dad."

The Curators

Gare du Nord

Sonnet and Oriel were in the same program at the Courtauld Art Institute, studying the history of European costume and dress, taught by the formidable Dr Eileen Ribeiro, some 18 years ago. Both are curators at the V&A.

Sonnet, with the help of the Op-Ed project, has an opinion - with photo - published in the New York Times addressing the failure of the world's biggest museums to hire women at the top. Same for the V&A where 75% of the curators are women. Her piece timely as the V&A searching for a new Director while the Chairman tells me, "we cannot get women to apply for the job."

"LONDON — The directors of two of the world’s most popular art museums recently announced their resignations. Martin Roth, the director of the Victoria and Albert Museum, will step down this year, and Nicholas Serota, the director of the Tate museums, both in Britain, will depart next year. These job vacancies, which search committees are now working to fill, offer an opportunity to correct the gender imbalance in art museum leadership in Britain, America and beyond.

In 2015, the world’s top 12 art museums as based on attendance — what I call the “directors’ dozen” — were all led by men. When Frances Morris became the director of the Tate Modern in April, she became the first woman to join the club. This gender gap extends from Europe to North America, where only five of the 33 directors of the most prominent museums (those with operating budgets of more than $20 million) are women, including Kaywin Feldman of the Minneapolis Institute of Art and Nathalie Bondil of the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts. It’s the leaders of those big-budget institutions who set the tone for all. "
--Sonnet Stanfill, NYT, extract, October 19, 2016

Paris Train

Fred sleeps on the Eurostar

Sonnet visits a donor in Paris so the gang heads for St Pancras, 5:30AM, for a Day Trip. Joining Madeleine is Alphie, who is into photography and film, which is influencing our little darling in a most wonderful way: Madeleine now shooing film with my ancient Pentax SuperME camera.  Eitan joined by Shaheen and Fred, who is a music scholar at Hampton. Three peas in a pod.

In Paris, I hand each kid 6 metro tickets, a bunch of Euros for emergency, and tell them to be at Gare du Nord at 7:15Pm. I watch them scramble into the crowd, then turn around and head for the office.

Me to Alphie: "I like your hair cut kid."
Madeleine: "Dad why do you always have to be so embarrassing."
Me: "What? It's cool. Clipped on the side, long on top. Believe it or not, it is how we used to wear our hair back in the days before the mobile phone and the automobile."
Alphie: "Thank you Mr Orenstein."
Madeleine: "They so had cars when you were my age."
Me: "We went to this hair salon called Peter Thomas on Shattuck. A bunch of my friends got free haircuts in return for modelling."
Madeleine, Alphie:
Me: "Funny what you remember like it was yesterday."

Astorg Gold And Silver

A few colleagues

I catch up on my blog. 

Earlier this month Astog is selected the No. 1 middle-market buyout firm in Europe while the Eur 2.1 billion Astorg VI, which closed June 30, takes 2nd place in the fundraising category (yours, truly, gave up a few lives on that one) by PE Exchange, representing some 1200 institutional investors. It is peer recognition for a team that works hard, shows up every day, and delivers results.

I tell Charles-Hubert (far left) not to put the trophy in his bedroom, like he did last year.  Sometimes I wonder if the French get, or even appreciate, my sense of humour. Other times I wonder if I push it too far .

An Astorg Christmas

The London office

The London office celebrates at a Peruvian lunch in Mayfair. My commitment to an alcohol light afternoon discarded by 3PM with the evening ending at 10PM. As I tell Michael, a new German colleague and the guy in front in red sweater, in the taxi home: "What happens in Frankfurt stays in Frankfurt." On point, I am not sure what it means or if it is clever.

Madeleine: "I want to go to Hawaii. For vacation."
Me: "Yep. Only trouble is you might never come back."
Madeleine: "It would be so nice."
Me: "You might toss out your UK passport right there."
Madeleine: "And then I would go to California."
Me: "The beauty of it is - you can, no problem."
Madeleine: "All my friends are talking about going to America and I can just do it."
Me: "And you don't have to work or get married."
Madeleine: "Married?"
Me: "So you can live in the states without a visa."
Madeleine:
Me: "If any of your friends were to come to me and ask for your hand. .."
Madeleine:
Me: "I would be like, no problem. She's a live one."
Madeleine: "You would not."
Me: "Only don't come to me for money."
Madeleine: "Gee, thanks Dad."
Me: "I expect you'll be living with us. Isn't it enough?"
Madeleine: "Can we talk to mom now ?"

Gracie Moe Madeleine

1530

Madeleine and I have had a great visit (as we prepare for the red eye). Our week includes a lot of time with Gracie and Moe (and Katie !), some business meetings for me, visits with friends and watching college football with Moe (Cal gets killed by USC). Madeleine and I also hang out - at least, she is a trooper, accompanying me to various places when she could be on Snapchat. I love this kid.

Gracie and Moe cherish the time with her.

Roger and Me

On Treasure Island, I connect with Roger and his son Thomas, who is playing in a Lacrosse tournament. Thomas is good : 6'2 '', and filling out since the last I saw him. He is quick and aggressive, putting a number of balls into the net.

Roger recently left Box, where he was on the early team, to join Amazon's web services business, which has grown from zero to $12bn in ten years, including a 55% increase over last year. WTF ? Amazon and Microsoft own 60% of the infrastructure behind cloud storage. What was a small business for Amazon has become critical to the company's growth. Roger will own several product initiatives.

We watch college fb : Ohio State v Northwestern, where Moe went to college. Moe transferred to Northwestern from Colgate, where he had an honorary scholarship (he says, "I was expected to have a lot of promise." Indeed). He transferred from Colgate, located in Hamilton NY, for a less isolating college experience.

San Francisco

I left my heart in San Francisco

Madeleine and I cruise over to Buena Vista Island, also know as "Treasure Island", which is the center point of the Bay Bridge, smack in the middle of the SF bay. I have never been on the island in my 49 years, but I have been through it 1000s of times.

The island once hosted a Naval Base, which closed 20 years ago, and now mostly dilapidated though the developers, it is rumoured, are circling. The views of San Francisco are stunning.

These stupid Hillary Clinton emails have everybody bored out of their minds. FBI head James Comey under pressure to act, otherwise surely the FBI will be accused by the Trump morons of withholding vital info before the elections. Only problem is, the new emails don't appear to have anything to do with Hillary, and Comey has not released all the information, leaving us with innuendo. Please God let it end.

My Mother

My Mom in her fancy wig. She is soldiering on with a lot to live for. The chemo will be done on December 27.  The mother-son relationship is a special thing.

My parents keep to their normal routine : Moe is up at 4AM and at the Berkeley Y by 5AM, where he sees his fellow gym rats who exchange jokes and insults. I bump into the famous Jack Ball, who is part of the crew. Jack was my PE teacher in 7th grade, and has memories of Katie and me, age 11, running around the King Jr High track or doing pull ups or other some such thing. I do believe we set records for the Jr High mile (me, 5:50)

We join Rob and Sloan, plus their fab kids Sophie and Jaimes for dinner in Mill Valley. Sophie, a Sophomore, is thriving. Her brain is going 100 miles a minute as she jumps from a home work project, to the school play to social media and then her friends. She occupies the space with her stories. Jaimes, not to be over shadowed by her older sister, is excelling in gymnastics and competing at the state level. She won a big tournament and was rewarded with a family dog, Bear (Rob and Sloan set the challenge assuming she would not win the thing). Bravo !

HW 1 Revisited

Madeleine and I drive along HW1. The world may be a'changing but the California coastline is just
as I remember it.

We start in Santa Cruz looking for surf but the ocean is unaccommodating. Instead, we walk along the shoreline checking out the scene which, mid-week, is mostly middle-aged types walking their dogs. Where are the surfer dudes , I wonder ? No doubt at 3 or 4 mile point, classic breaks shown to me by Danny when he was a PhD student at UC Santa Cruz and writing about the surfing life. His book, 'Caught Inside', made a literary ripple.

We end our day at Mike and Andrea's for dinner, including fab kids Eli and Ruby. Missing is Oscar, who is now in Manhattan making a go at the fashion world. We recall fondly his visit.

Madeleine btw will either go to college in California or end up here with a back pack.

Rapid Transit

Ashby station

Madeleine and I in Berkeley visiting Moe and Gracie (who receives her 7th chemo session as I write).  Yesterday we catch BART to San Francisco to kick around Market St and do some shopping. Sushi included, of course. 

Madeleine rediscovers the joys swimming, which is somehow perfect for jet lag and (for me) life. We do our laps at the Golden Bear Rec Club off Durant in the North Berkeley Hills. The vistas of the Bay Area are superb and seeing the blue sky sure beats the indoor pools I must accept in London. An added bonus : This is where I trained my last year of High School.

Eitan Is A Shark

The after play

Eitan has a full run of West Side Story, four nights at Hampton School, sold out each time. Sonnet and I attend two performances, and it is a pleasure to see these kids (Hampton and Lady Eleanor Holles School) put on a professional production, including a full student orchestra.

Eitan is Pepe in the Sharks and is present in the prologue and the rumble scenes, which are beautifully choreographed movement sequences. Eitan has several lines and dances and sings his heart out. He is brilliant, in this observer's unbiased opinion.

After the play, Sonnet and I wait eagerly for the young actors to appear. Eitan arrives sweaty and joyous and gives us hugs, including Madeleine (momentarily stunned by such largess). He is all chitter chatter on the drive home. How proud we are of him.

Me (In Paris, walking by a lingerie shop): "Want to help me pick out something for Mom?"
Madeleine: "You are disgusting, Dad." 

Paris Morning

Left bank (river flows westward)

It is the kind of morning one would wish to wake up with when one is in Paris.

The French, being a gallic nation, generally start late (by American standards) with the best part of the day spilling into the night. Sundays are a lock-down until about 1 or 2PM; until then, it is utterly calm with few Parisiennes on the street. 

At the Picasso museum, I ask the girls to select a favourite art and be prepared to discuss it over dinner. Both go for a series of eight paintings of Picasso's muse and lover from 1925-37, Marie-Therese Walter. The relationship began when she was 17 and he 45, and still living with his first wife Olga Khokholva. The whole thing blew up when Picasso moved on to his next mistress Dora Maar (who Picasso painted in a dark deformed frame,s unlike M-T whose portraits are more sympathetic).

And mine, you may ask ? Giacometti's 'Standing Man', on display as part of a temporary expo comparing Picasso and Giaco.

Madeleine on M-T "I like the expressions which change in each painting. It's like you know what she is thinking."

On The Mohito

Hiccup

Following dinner we find a cocktail bar and sit for a glass of wine (me) and I allow one glass of champagne for the girls.

Madeleine: "Can I have a gin and tonic?" 
Me: "No."
Laurie: "What's in a gin and tonic?"
Me: "I'll give you one hint."
Laurie:
Me: "It's not vodka."
Laurie: "Oh, I get it."
Madeleine: "How about a Mohito. Can I get one of those?"
Me: "Definitely not a Mohito. Besides, it is the most dangerous drink imaginable."
Madeleine: "Huh?"
Me: "If you have three Mohitos you go blind. Fact."
Madeleine: "Blind? Blind. blind !"
Me: "You are skating on the edge of insanity when you imbibe that devil drink."
Madeleine: "I cannot believe that."
Me: "True. Scientific. Just don't get any ideas."
Madeleine: "I never know if you're joking, Dad."

Greetings From The Marais

Are we there yet ?

Sonnet in the Midwest to visit a museum in Kansas City then St Louis, MO, for Kevin's wedding. Kevin an ancient friend from San Francisco. Then it is Montrose to see Marcus and Stan, who has accepted an offer on his house.  

The home leaves good memories, like parking Eitan's baby crib in the guest room closet so he would sleep. Or the time I was up at 5AM, jet legged, to go running and bumped into Silver wearing a full-body gas mask. We waved at each other (Silver allergic to dust, and was dusting the plans). The dinner table conversations and the full moon rising above the Rockies.

Whilst Sonnet travels,  I take Madeleine and Laurie to Paris 4e in the heart of the Marais.  The girls are a joy, giggling and serious - interested in shopping and anything vintage - we split our time between the back streets, felafels, stores and museums. Yesterday it was Picasso and streak frites. Today it is glorious sunshine.

Eitan (who is with Aggie) shrugs it all off, going to a party Friday and home to revise Saturday night. Back in the day, it would have meant a Love Boat and Fantasy Island double-header.

Bieber

Madeleine stops by our room every evening for Sonnet to blow dry her hair.

Sonnet: "No way are you having a party at our house."
Madeleine: "What ?!"
Sonnet: "After we re-do the interior this Autumn, I am not letting a bunch of teenage monsters trash the place."
Madeleine: "That is so unfair."
Me to Madeleine: "Talk to me on this one."
Sonnet: "Hmmm."
Me: "At Eitan's party, I was going to play some tunes." (Dad's note: I can control the living room speakers from my iPhone)
Madeleine:
Me: "Justin Bieber."
Madeleine: "Oh. My. God."
Me: "Your Mom stopped me from doing it."
Madeleine: "When I have a party, you are not allowed. Downstairs. Ever."

Post Party

Eitan and Fred

Does one laugh or cry ?  The Tories float the idea of British companies being forced to register their foreign workers while Teresa May pushes for Article 50 in March 2017 triggering a hard countdown to the Brexit. The markets freak and Sterling drops to a 31 year low at 1.18 against the dollar before rebounding to 1.23. When we arrived, it was over 2. My Euro friends are disgruntled.

As if Europe is going to enter friendly agreements : we block European labour flows, Europe blocks our easy access to the largest trading block in the world. We lose the the best talented people and free trade. 

Talk about an own goal. 

I just did a Google search for 'Trump' and 'pussy'. 

Here is what he said and certainly would have denied if not on tape:

“I moved on her like a bitch, but I couldn’t get there. And she was married.”

“I did try and fuck her. She was married.”

“Just kiss. I don’t even wait. And when you’re a star, they let you do it. You can do anything.”

“Grab them by the pussy. You can do anything."

Idiots and racists will still vote for Trump. 

Saturday Night Lights

Pre-party

Eitan throws a party at 45 inviting 60 or so friends.  We empty the house and sweep the backyard; Eitan fine-tunes his play list and Sonnet prepares food and snacks. And beer - what party would last without the booze ? True then and true now. So we set aside our concerns and buy six cases of Amstel and Budweiser, which is gone within one hour of the start.

The boys arrive mostly first, trickling in, respectful while avoiding eye contact with me, the adult supervision. I check each name from a list. The girls arrive in groups, on display like Christmas ornaments. Their water bottles contain vodka and gin, which I mostly let ride. 

It is a real pleasure to see how excited the kids are to see each other, hugging and shouting over the drum.

The living room speakers (inherited with the house) are professional and make the house shake. I am rather proud of it.

Madeleine and her friends slink around the dark edges of the action.

Sonnet and I banished to the upstairs. We eavesdrop and I drop downstairs to make sure everything remains under control and nothing broken nor kids puking. We order late night pizza for the stragglers and clean up the mess.

Oxford or Bust

For posterity, here is the gang reunited. Zubulin, third from left, got all A* on his GCSE exams this year and will likely study maths at Cambridge.  Ava (2nd from right) now plays for Arsenal FB and represents England.  Zoe (missing) accepted to Oxford and began in September. Rusty, meanwhile, got his bone.

Trump is a clown and not worth discussing. Theresa May, who is not a clown, sent Sterling into a free fall as the financial markets reacted to her words on a strong brexit. This stupid country may deliver what 51% of the British population seem to want - immigration control - while killing foreign investment and access to the European markets. Brussels will do all it can to stick it to this country and prevent other countries from splitting the union; until now, The City has been impregnable. Paris and Zurich are sharpening their knives. Without thriving London, say goodbye to the golden eggs.

Those Eigenstrains

Math genius in repose

We go for our autumnal walk in Oxford with the Three Zees plus Nita and Alain who is occupied with a paper titled: "Universal Eigenstrains and Deformations in Compressible Isotropic Solids." All I can say is: what the fuck is that all about ? 

To prepare the research, Alain teamed up with a genius Iranian named Arash Yavari who received his applied maths PhD at CalTech and states, on his website, that his interest is "developing systematic theories of discrete mechanics for crystalline solids with defects." I always went with distance running or travelling. 

Sadly dudes like Arash will surely be discouraged from coming to Britain following Brexit.

Eric is the only friend I can think of who might know about an Eigenstrain. Or Ben. Anyways, for all those interested, here is a brief on Alain's thesis : 

"Finite eigenstrains in a nonlinear solid can be modelled by a Riemannian material manifold with a metric that explicity depends on the eigenstrains. We show that covariantly homogeneous deformations - deformations with covariantley constant deformations gradients - are the only universal deformations." 

And so on an so forth

Sweet 16

Eitan turns 16. This precious young soul has grown before our very eyes into the fine young man he has become. Sonnet and I could not be more proud of him.

Eitan's academic year brings forward the GCSEs, those dreaded exams that will determine the boy's future. Not to be taken lightly. 

In the British school system, a student's extracurriculars, school grades, teacher recommendations and personal essays don't count for college credit - only the exams, test-taker be damned if s/he has a cold or a bad day. US colleges extrapolate a GPA from the GCSEs so the results count in America, too. 

We have known about the GCSEs since, well, Eitan's birth since it is something anxiously discussed amongst parents and ex-pats from Day 1. The general consensus is that it is a pretty crummy thing to put a poor kid through. 

Until now, the exam has been a safe distance in the future, over some far away hill, that protected us from Eitan's inevitable departure from home. For surely once the test is done he is gone.

Me: "Sweet 16 and never been kissed."

Eitan: "What do you mean?"

Me: "It's an expression. Sweet 16 and never been kissed. So have you?"

Eitan: "What?"

Me: "Been kissed."

Eitan: "Why do you always have to do that?"

The Merchant

Eitan at Tooting Bec

Friday night in London finds us gathered at The Globe for The Merchant of Venice, which Eitan studied last year and now reminds me of the story beforehand and whispers character names in my ear. Shylock is treated horribly and should have had his pound of flesh. Sonnet and Madeleine visit The Tate Modern before the play to see the Georgia O'Keefe exhibition. 

Southbank is abuzz - every concrete nook filled with skateboarders, walkers, drinkers, revellers; only the black river separates the lights.

It has been a busy month , or two even, so let's see : the kids concluded their summer athletics season with Eitan clocking a 4:16 in the 1500 (pb of 9 seconds) and Madeleine a 2:26 in the 800 - times good enough for the UK top 150. Adding an exclamation mark : Madeleine finishes second in yesterday's Wandsworth champs and will represent the borough in the London Youth Games Later this year.

Grace continues her chemotherapy and is in good spirits always; we check in with each other every day.

The G

The g waters the front yard

Last couple weeks have been admittedly chill.  I've had a few business trips taking me to Oslo, Copenhagen, Amsterdam and Zurich, travelling through the Swiss Alps to get to Zug.  The kids have taken the loong summer break to be, well, kids: Eitan sleeps until noon. Both go out in the evening with friends or parties. Neither particularly interested in my instructions to study. 

Madeleine runs a 2:29 800m today at Euell in Surrey. She's disappointed as it's not a personal best and the end of the season. Next is cross country and Autumn nearly hear.

Madeleine: "Yo g, what's up?"
Me: "From now on you are 'The g.' "
Madeleine:
Me: "The g is in the room."
Madeleine:
Me: "The g is now going down the stairs."
Madeleine:
Me: "The g is in the kitchen looking for some food."
Madeleine: "I get it Dad OK ?"
Me: "The g tells Dad, 'she gets it, OK?'"
Madeleine: "You are so weird."
Me: "No more so than anyone else."
Madeleine: "Whatever you say g."

Man's Best Friend

Post run, Richmond Park. Saturday afternoon

Me: "How are we doing as parents?"
Madeleine: "You were doing pretty good but now you're all about discipline and stuff."
Me: "Are you kidding? You guys have so much freedom."
Madeleine: "Like a 9:30 curfew?"
Me: "That's for public transportation. And BTW 9:30 is summer hours and will be earlier in winter."
Madeleine: "See? "
Me: "When was the last time you put forward your case for a different curfew anyway?"
Madeleine: "In the US. In Colorado."
Me: "OK, but I wasn't convinced."
Madeleine: "You *were doing pretty well as I said."

Madeleine texts me from her bedroom: "Can I get sushi delivered?"
Me (texting back): "No. Make yourself some pasta."
Two hours later. Me: "You're making pasta?"
Madeleine: "Yeah."
Me: "You must be pretty hungry."
Madeleine: "Do I just put it in boiling water?"

Nordic Affair

Oslo Philharmonic

A beautiful late summer evening in Oslo. The symphony outside the statehouse a pleasant surprise.

A black BBC broadcaster reports on Trump's announcement to an all white audience that he will have 95% of the black vote in the 2020 elections. Like a 10 year old in the Principal's office, she tries not to laugh.

Ali, Pelé and now Bolt.

Madeleine: "I need new shoes."
Me: "Shall we go shopping then ?"
Madeleine: "I've been wearing my Vans for a year now."
Me: "You've been seeing live bands for a year now?"
Madeleine: "Huh?"
Me: "I didn't hear what you said."
Madeleine: "Vans, Dad."
Me: "So what are we doing this afternoon?"
Madeleine: "Uh, I'm seeing my friends."
Me: "Cool. Why don't I send a flash bomb and we can all hang in Wimbledon."
Madeleine: "Those words hurt me."
Me: "What, can't I join you?"
Madeleine: "Obviously No."
Me: "So you're saying your prejudice. Against old people."
Madeleine: "Yes. I mean no. Only you."
Me: "Your own Dad. You cut me to my bone."
Madeleine: "Were you like this when you were my age?"

Madeleine: "Why don't you move back to the US?"
Me: "Maybe we will one day."
Madeleine: "You could live with Gracie and Moe."
Me: "But then Moe would tell me to do my homework."
Madeleine gives me a knowing smirk.

Summer Vines

Self Portrait XXXXIX

Mid August yet no tomatoes. Still, I am happy to have my friendly vines and await their red fruit in September.

Gracie began chemotherapy last week Thursday and is in positive good spirits. The chemo is good news as the nodes in her lungs proved non-cancerous. The treatments, which will continue through November, to ensure this remains the case.

Rusty Olympics

Rusty cheers for Mo Farah

The dog is fired up by the Olympics.

In truth, I've never seen an animal so happy to have a bone.

Little Britain is in 2nd place for medals after the US and before China. Go figure. The UK is rocking the gymnastics, velodrome and swimming and diving. Then there is Mo Fara, Britain's very own Michael Phelps. Just about almost.

My mornings have been up early to drive to Hampton to run in Bushy Park followed by a swim in the outdoor 33m pool where I can wear flippers.  The other lap swimmers hate it, as I hate them for being in the wrong lane, but we manage to co-exist.

North Devon

Shaka dude

We spend the weekend in North Devon for some surfing and both kids enjoy the beach (picture tattoos, sunburn, babies crying and parents smoking).

The North Devon Coast Area is known for its outstanding natural beauty and Woolacombe Beach chosen as"Britain's Best Beach in 2015  and 13th best in the world by TripAdvisor which says a lot about them. Yes, it's sandy and the water salty but it is not a place I would return to, dear reader. There is no California sunset. I will come back for Madeleine, not doubt. She is committed to the waves.

The beachside chippy, however, totally legit - a line forms along the block from 11AM. Inside, the Brits order fish and chips or sausage and chips or just chips. The order, doused in salt and vinegar, arrives in a card-board box, complete with small wood fork.

Server: "Order please?"
Lady: "I'll be hav'n those chips. And the cod please."
Server: "Order please?"
Lady 2: "Two chips. Make it three chips and the fish."
Server: "Order please."
Man 1: "Chips and a sausage."
Server: ""Order please."
Man 2: "Oy matey, I'll get a double portion of them chips."
Server: "Order please."
Man 3: "Chips and the beef burger."
Server: "Oder please."
Lady 3: "Hmmm. Yes, I'll have the chips and the vinegar, if you don't mind."
Server: "Order please."
Me: "Anyone ever not order chips?"
Server:
Me: "I'll have the chips."

Meanwhile At The Track

Wimbledon Hercules

Eitan and Madeleine have a tough workout including 2x 3 minutes hard followed by some 400s and 200s. Funny it doesn't seem like a big deal, 3 minutes, until you're in agony at 1 minute and not even at the half way mark. These kids are tough, though, and power through.

I arrive at the track at 7PM - kids taxi service - treated to a perfect temperature and slow sunset over Wimbledon fields.

Trump suggests that gun owners assassinate Hillary Clinton and her selection of Supreme Court judges. Paul Ryan and those turds in what was the Republican party continue to back Trump.

Eitan: "Madeleine tried to sell me a shirt."
Me: "She's desperate for money. I've got her and Lucas cleaning the windows."
Eitan: "Where is she now?"
Sonnet: "They're circling the neighbourhood trying to sell baked goods."
Me: "Highly motivated. I like it."

Dog Days Of Summer

Like mother, like daughter

The kids remain on school-break and both nesting or, at least, sleeping until afternoon if I let them. It is hard for me to let go of my father and I urge them to get out of bed, do homework, work on the yard, walk the dog etc etc. No sound for a teenage kid worse than Dad walking up the stairs, rapping on the door before entering without an authorisation.

It's better for them when I am at the office (Since I work with France, France is on holiday).

Eitan and I have been going to for a morning jog in Bushy Park then the pool for some laps followed by coffee and croissants at an 'artisan' cafe near our house. It's a good combo for a workout; I am also looking into meditation.

Madeleine calls my mobile: "Do you want to buy an Izod shirt for 10 pounds?"
Me: "No."
Madeleine: "That was fast."
Me: "Okay, what's the deal ?"
Madeleine: "It's almost new. Only one owner and light blue."
Me: "Who's the seller ? "
Madeleine (pause): "Lucas. [Dad's note: Lucas is one of Madeleine's friends]. "He needs money for train fare." [Dad's note: the crew wants to take the train to Brighton for the day]
Me: "Tell Lucas if he wants to make some money he can come to our house and do yard work on the weekend."
Madeleine: "I am not going to tell him that !"
Me: "Gotta work, kid. I am not taking the shirt off your friend's back."
Madeleine: "Gee, thanks Dad. You make it sound like it's so unfair."

British Gold

Adam Peaty brings home the gold medal in the 100m breast stroke, as expected given his world record in the event. He does these Olympics in style, clocking a WR in the heats then again during the finals - 57.55. Gemini crickets, that's fast.  The last time a Brit won a swimming gold was the great Adrian Moorhouse, also in the 100m breast, in Seoul '88.  

The BBC interviews Peaty's parents in Staffordshire: "There was times I felt like taxi driver but I said to Adam, 'to be a champion you got to work hard - so get out of bed!' " Seems about right.

My cynicism for these Olympics, given the doping and general flimsiness of the Brazilian platform, fades away amongst the entertainment : the BBC delivers 16 channels of live broadcasts, which arrive around 5PM GMT (trials) then again at 12:30AM (finals). Who can't be inspired by it all ?

Louie In The House

Louie and Guilia (with a 'G') visit from NorCal while criss-crossing Europe.  Louie an ancient high school friend and swimmer though more inclined towards water polo player where he co-captained the Yellow Jackets water polo squad in 1982.

Louie was a positive influence: body-focused, curious and always good energy. I recall summers sneaking into weight rooms mid-day at the UC dorms to get an extra workout. He introduced me to climbing the bleachers at the Cal football stadium (we circled the grounds searching for weaknesses in the security fence). Minor aversions compared to what else going on in Berkeley.

Since, Louie has taken on 'causes', running for Marine County Superintendent in 2000 to oust a jerry mandered, special interest incumbent (he got 40% of the vote but still 2nd) and again in 2002; formed a non-profit to provide after-school academic support in the sciences across Marine county (300 pupils). Had a beautiful and precocious daughter.

Meanwhile Madeleine runs a 200m for the first time in a sunset time trial on the Wimbledon track. Without a starting block normal for the event, our gal blasts forward, hits the curve in full stride and brings home the race in powerful fashion, clocking a 27 seconds, half a second from qualifying for English Nationals. Not bad for the first-timer. She says: "Uh, it was fun. Quite fast race. I was surprised."

Orange Is The New Black

At our local The Plough

Along with having teenagers, we now have a set of rules that aims, well, to establish some rules.  For instance, Eitan's curfew is 12 midnight. He is allowed to use public transportation to get home (mainly bus). Madeleine (I remind she is 16 months younger) can stay out until midnight but she must have a ride, secured beforehand. Otherwise she must be home by 9:30 if by public transportation (this, dear reader, is the summer-rule given late evening sunsets).  

Of course Madeleine feels it is deeply unfair.

I signed Madeleine up for car-service Uber "for emergencies" which has been used 3 of the first five days in service.

Me: "Why don't you guys have a party here?"
Eitan, Madeleine:
Me: "Why not? Don't you want to have your friends over?"
Eitan, Madeleine
Me: "We could move the furniture from the living room. It could be big."
Madeleine: "No way, Dad."
Me: "What is it then, alcohol?"
Madeleine: "You would never have alcohol."
Me: "I'd not thought of it. What do the other parents do?"
Madeleine: "They're upstairs."
Me: "Well that's good to know."
Eitan: "Yeah, see?"
Me: "So no booze, no party ?"
Madeleine, Eitan
Me: "Sorry I asked."

Our First Lady

Melania was naked and illegal in 1995. Maybe married, too.

OK maybe Trump won't get elected.

Who could possibly have imagined that the Republicans would be able to hoist someone on a blinkered nation worse than Sarah Palin ?  Trump is finally going down in flames after he has insulted, well, everyone but most of all parents of fallen sons. Military families represent a large part of Trump's support base. His recent attacks have cut muscle.

Me: "What do you think of Trump?"
Madeleine: "Dunno. Pretty bad, I guess."
Me: "What would you think if I ran for president?"
Madeleine: "You would be a terrible ruler. You would tell everyone in the city that they're not allowed to drink and then you'd sit back and drink as much alcohol as you want."
Me: "Fair point."
Madeleine: "Are you still going to do it?"
Me: "Run for president?"
Madeleine: "Drink alcohol."

On Trump

A soothing photo of mountains

Why Trump will win.

Start with the two Americas : whites who go to the same universities, marry each other and work together and live in the same safe neighbourhoods. They're well off and mostly liberal. Workaholics. Striving with opportunity. Mainstream media is their mirror. Think Manhattan, San Francisco or Salt Lake City.
On the other side, there is a new lower class of white Americans with a high school or no degree who find themselves unmarried or divorced and unable to work due to illness or disability or simply unemployed.  Their zip codes are filled with chronic crime, decaying housing and infrastructure and services from clean water to policing (or aggressive policing). Think Flint, Cleveland, St Louis ... As a consequences of these trends, the traditional bonds of civil society have atrophied in lower class white America - less trust and less 'social capital'.
Trump speaks for this audience : The RNC captured the mood with Trump's speeches of an America in decline and unsafe. Contrast this to the Obama/ Clinton's masterpiece of self-congratulations during the DNC: everything in America is awesome ! America is great, diverse, dynamic and prosperous!
But it is not so for Main Street. The reality for lower class whites is, that since 2005, according to McKinsey, 81% of this population had flat or falling incomes. This group is in the grip of an epidemic of ill health and premature death and  chronic unemployment. It is why Trump comps to Hillary in the polls.
If Trump mobilises white voters - something much easier than minorities and the young - he will win. To see it, there were 129 million voters in the 2012 election, of which 93m (72%) were white. Romney won 59% of those votes to Obama's 39%, but still lost. If Romney had won 62% of the white vote he would have won. Can Trump do it? Right now he leads among white registered voters without a degree by a margin of 58% to 30% compared to Romney's 55% to 37%. Throw in Sanders' 13m supporters and the many young voters who won't show on election day. The white lower class, especially the older cohorts, will turn out for Trump in droves, just as their English counterparts turned out for Brexit.
We are on the path for a demagogue.