Monday, October 2

Pamirs 7

 

In Khorov at a hostel, which feels like five stars.

Today we drive to Geisev Valley and cross the Bhartan river on a rickety footbridge, fast-flowing water feet beneath us. From here we trek to Bhagoo village, about 8km, to an upper series of clear lakes in a valley of towering mountains.  We stay the night in Geisev, a small village of simple houses, gnarled trees and fruit groves - it is the season and appleas and pears fall from the branches; blankets of orange apricots sun-dry on the stones.  Eitan and I count seconds on each on in the 4C river which we swim.

I learn that a Pamir house is built as a family effort instead of, say, buying off a neighbour. It takes about one year to collect all the materials needed for construction. As wood is rare here and the centrepriece of the house is wooden pillars, family planning demands long-term tree-planting.

Furniture is simple and the home protected with warm carpets and wools on the floor and walls.

Our room has a hole in the ceiling for a make-shift chimney.

Geisev Valley

Taliban 6

Friendly man on the Pamir HW
The Taliban, whose roots are in Pakistan (Quetta city), is not so big a subject in Tajikistan, despite being a river crossing away.  The Pamirs and Hindu Kush ranges make the Afghani border impassable for vehicles and people while a single dirt lane parallels our road on the opposite side of the Panj river providing a connection to the Taliban villages we occasionally pass along the highway.  I see the infrequent motorcycle but never a car and imagine a truck could not cross raising a question : how do these outposts exist ?

Aziz grunts as he points out a Taliban check point.

The Taliban ruled most of Afghanistan from 1996-2001 until the Americans knocked them out.  It began as a student led revolution (Taliban means "students") from the 1994 Afghanistan civil war and spread in the Islamic schools - it was Mullah Omar who shifted the movement away from the Mujahideen warlords into a form of government espousing an extreme interpretation of Islamic law ("Sharia") which resulted in massacres against Afghan civilians, harsh discrimination against minority religions and people, denial of UN food supplies to starving people, banning women from school, and the destruction of cultural monuments.

In 1997, our trip to Pakistan leading us into the mountainous Northern Territories was nearly killed as the Taliban destroyed the ancient Budha statues of Afghanistan and their nomadic armed camps, and refugees, spilled into the region alongside the KKH, triggering fear that all of Pakistan could be next. 

The Taliban did not disappear during the American occupation, retaking Kabul following the US departure in 2021. The Taliban is not recognised by any country and likely supported by China, Russia and Iran and others.

Panj river, Pamirs


Sunday, October 1

Tajikistan 5

Afghanistan, next right
Nate in Dushambe is from Houston, age 46, and on the world tour for 15 months with another three to go.  Before, he was a criminal defense lawyer which comes up frequently when asserting his domain.  His itinerary is set by cheap airfare and friends to visit - he departs for Munich at Midnight (400 bucks) then Vienna (Indian girl, met on the road). He knows his travels and is detailed on the history.  Prior, in Islamabad, Nate stayed with the family of a Pakistani client in Houston - "we won that one with the grace of God", he says - who treat Nate like a son in their wealthy complex - he has been on the KKH and we have a natural discussion point.

Nate does not trust the government generally and his eventual terminus may be Mexico or Panama - he reasons their leadership is so incompetent it cannot be dangerous. My impolite suspicion is that Nate is running for something quite possibly more than growing up.



Saturday, September 30

Tajikistan 4

Kalai Khomb friends
We spend the night in Kalai Khomb where I photograph these two friends in front of the mosque. They have lived only here.

The small village is next to towering mountains and the sometimes raging c 970km Panj River which drains the Sarez Lake, itself filled by glacier melt, in the Bartang Valley. The river is the natural border separating Tajikistan and Afghanistan.  Remarkably, it dissolves into the desert. Before it goes, though, water is siphoned to the cotton fields, Tajikistan's major export, since the Aral Sea went dry (watering cotton) during Soviet times.

But the Pamir Highway : it is a c 1,800km two-lane (sometimes) road that begins in Termez, Uzbekistan, and ends in Osh, Kyrgyzstan.  Pre highway, the route was an important part of the Silk Road connecting East and West.

The present hw began in 1931-35 under Stalin to transport troops and provisions and maintain his control here. Over many years, sections were upgraded to concrete or tarmac but, from around Kalai Kumb, it is mostly a dirt and rock road making for brutal driving.  Along with holes and ditches, we are 1-3 feet from the road's edge dropping downwards to the battleship grey river below.  Impassable without a 4WD.

My original plan was to cycle the hw, which I now see would have been dangerous and foolhardy. Firstly I cannot service a bike which is certainly an essential requirement. Then there are the passes over 3,000m.

As we drive I note the Chinese are in the midst of bouldering and eventually, I learn, will pave the full hw, expected to finish by 2025. Payback is the minerals and precious metals that can be delivered more rapidly to Kashgar than Eastern China where the people are. Chinese orange trucks, driven by Tajiks, create impasses and Aziz honks, curses and races around them without changing a facial expression, which is normally glowering (though he is extremely friendly)

As trucks approach there is a game of chicken between drivers (Aziz) dictated by the smoothest passage on the road - is a broken axel from a pothole less inconvenient than a collision ?

Road block

Tajikistan 3

We have a momentary scare when Eitan's visa cannot be found at a crossing control nearby Afghanistan. Happily, after a thorough search, it drops from his passport where it is naturally tucked away and found before I flash a wad of dollars before the police.

Two boys presumably on their way to school, no parents in sight.

Tajikistan 2

Masget Mosque, Dushambe
Tajikistan, as all C Asia, is a Muslim country, a religion imported from the Middle East in the 9th century. It is mostly Sunni (Sunni is approximately 95% of Islam) though the Pamir region is Shia - it does not seem to create any tension. Our guide Macfadir (female) is from the Pamirs and is Shia while, she informs, her friends are a mix. She is modern, does not pray, and believes that being Muslim means kindness of the heart.

During Soviet times from 1922-91, the USSR tried to prevent Tajiks from following their religious beliefs, demanding instead militant atheism, causing serious tension. Yet despite this, in 1943, Muslim religious boards took administrative control of the Soviet Muslims and some mosques were re-opened to ease friction; under Kruschev everything closed down again until the collapse of the Soviet empire. 
Today all religions in Tajikistan are allowed with 98% being Muslim. 

On this thread, Dushambe built the largest mosque in Central Asia in 2019 called Masget. The mullah who shows us the inside informs that the mosque is one hectare and the dome's peak is over 100 feet. Unlike the Hagia Sofia in Istanbul which was designed on four pillars ("elephant's feet") enabling a pure dome and extraordinary acoustics, Masget has 100 pillars, something I consider as the mullah chants in waling prayer to show us.  

Eitan and I are travelling with backpacks and cameras, little else. Some clothes, two kindles and The Lonely Planet (1995).

Our driver Aziz is pulled over by the police in the middle of nowhere and told he must pay a cash fine of 800 somone (about $25), a fortune, for speeding. He knows the officer and they yell at each other for 20 minutes, enjoying themselves thoroughly.

Tajikistan 1

Arrival, Dushambe Airport

Eitan and I arrive in Dushamnbe (meaning “Monday” , when the city was so inconsequential it was named for the market day; now, 1.2m people and the capital city) on Sunday greeted at the very crowded airport by our guide and driver for the next three weeks. This is a first time in Tajikistan though I have been to Central Asia in 1997 to tour the Karakoram Highway with Sonnet and my sister Katie. In effect, we will soon be on the less developed - and trafficked - Pamir Highway winding into the Pamir Mountains, much of which is along the Afghanistan and Chinese borders. It is the second highest highway in the world after the KKH and reaches a top pass of over 4,200m. 

Today we are in Iskander Kul, a substantial mineral lake at c 3000m in the Fan mountains, Northwest province, where we spend the night in a guesthouse surrounded by yak and goats in a partially developed complex. Getting here, we pass by the location where Alexander The Great rested during his seige of the Sogdians in the 7th c expanding his empire into C Asia. 

Also near us is gold, mined by the Chinese (of which, 60% goes back to China), other precious metals and coal - orange trucks ferry their black payloads on a highway, the M34, paralleling the Varzov river often from extreme heights of thousands of feet and no railing. We see a number of these vehicles broken down beside the highway and the loss of breaks is not worth considering. 

M34 outside Dushambe
There is tunnelling along the route and some of it is incomplete like the 5km stretch with no light reflectors
 nor road markings. It is pitch black and the diesel fumes render our 4WD's lights ineffective ; our driver Aziz double flashes trucks as they pass within inches. I anxiously anticipate Aziz overtaking slower moving cars but for the most part he curbs his urgency. 

At the Iskander lake we meet a young German boxer from Neurenberg, his trainer and the coach, certainly unusual as these are some of the only people we see in the Sogd district. Mattieu is training to be the Bavarian regional champion then on to the German nationals. The altitude and mountains go with his training and I learn that the number one sport here is boxing. I share a swim in the lake with Mattieu’s Dad - 7-8C by my guess. 
Young boxer from Neurenberg

Saturday, July 7

Roger Waters

Pigs on the wing
We (Sonnet, Eitan, Madeleine and I) spend a perfect evening in Hyde Park watching Roger Waters perform the best songs from Pink Floyd. True, no David Gilmore, but still fantastic.

Madeleine grabs her ticket and bolts into the crowd to meet friends, never to be seen again. Eitan arrives late but, touchingly, wants to spend the concert with me and Sonnet and so he and I fight our way somewhere into the middle to take in the theatrics.

I bought the concert tickets immediately when on sale, having been mesmerised by the Pink Floyd exhibition at the V&A last year.

Summer At Last

Wimbledon
Madeleine spends a week interning with Susan Boster's The Boster Group, which creates sponsorship from luxury brands to cultural institutions. She puts on her professional outfits, purchased from the mall or thrift shops - very cool interpretation of office style - and out the door she goes at the (un)reasonable hour of 7:00AM.

Otherwise our gal is free - Free! - to do whatever she wants. 16 years-old and summertime.

Susan Boster: "So, Madeleine, are you ready for your Devil Wears Prada Moment?"
Madeleine:
Susan: "I want you to get me a strawberry and cream frappachinio with skim milk but with extra cream, crushed ice chips, extra strawberry swirl. And java chips.
Madeleine: "Can I write that down?"
Colleague: "We are only beginning."

Hamilton Lame

Busy week in London with England winning and all.

We see Hamilton at the Victoria Palace. I think I am the only person I know who hated it. I didn't care for the rap music and the production made me think of a bunch of tenth graders running around the stage. The black performers are wonderful, but what does one make of the 100% white audience ? Katie says I have to see it in New York so maybe I will.

A more interesting story is that at Brown, and again at Columbia, I connected with Jill Furman who produced the play - her first one, I believe - and boy what a winner. Jill never struck me as someone who was into theatre nor American history but stranger things have happened.

Jill and I had one memorable night on the Narragansett Docks in Providence around 3AM where we were flashed by the police and ordered to vacate immediately in the midst of a bust.

Tuesday, June 26

State Of Mind

Self portrait XXXXV
51 and not dead yet. I spend my birthday in Tel Aviv and play my personal occasion low key. 

Madeleine finishes the GCSE exams and, just like that, no more GCSEs.  Ever.  It's like a marathon : once the first step taken, it is no longer 26 miles. Our gal learns her marks, alongside the rest of nation's 16 year-olds, on August 23. And, my dear friends, the inevitable question must be asked : Who is more terrified - we parents, or the kid ?

Eitan for his part receives his AS grades which are exemplary.

Sunday, June 24

Of Remembrance

Sonnet leaves on a jet plane for Denver where she will meet her family and mark the passing of her  uncles Shelton and Bill and father Stanfill "Stan" Stanfill, who passed August 14, 2017.

It is celebration of three remarkable lives that were formed from poverty during the Great Depression and delivered the American experience: Bill became a wealthy venture capitalist founding Silver Creek Ventures; Shelton created the title "arts administrator" overseeing the Los Angeles Centre of Performing Arts then President and CEO of Atlanta's Woodruff Arts Center, which he put on the map with the $200 million he singularly raised to build the complex.

Stan sought his own opportunity and adventure in Anchorage, Alaska, where he took his young bride, Silver, following a two week courtship. Their arrival well time for the Anchorage earthquake of '64 that flattened the city. 

In Alaska, Stan built his law practise while Silver taught at the University of Anchorage. They collected interesting friends like the Manhattan debutant who could skin a deer and did so for the family's winter meat. 

Eventually retirement returned Stan to Colorado's Western Slope, a place he knew and loved, where his days began - and ended - with views of the Grand Mesa.

Sunday, June 17

Sweet 16

Concert chicks
Lola arrives from LA and the girls turn it around for the Beyonce concert at London Stadium in the Olympic Park (I am informed that Jay Z is not pronounced JayZED but JayZEE). Lola's dad is Beyonce's agent so the girls are front and center at the show. They return buzzing and I blast a popular Beyonce song which elicits a few discreet dance steps from Madeleine. A father's joy to see it.

Madeleine will spend a week of the summer with Lola and Bella in LA whilst taking a film writing class founded by Katie's friend.

Manhattan From Below

Times Square at 44th St
Times Square has been pedestrianised with several city blocks set aside for strolling and taking a coffee. I find a used book stall and buy Joan Didion's "A Year Of Magical Thinking" and Machiavelli's "The Prince". 

I recall Times Square's seediness when I first arrived in New York, post college and shoes shined.  The neon glitz failed to brighten the grungy affair with its rough trades and hard-core cinema. Still it was pretty damn interesting. Less so today with Disney, Morgan Stanley and communal yoga having replaced the peep shows.

Manhattan from Above

I have been making my travels meeting with investors and enjoying the trips. Here is an arial shot of Manhattan from a small jet to up-state Albany and a meeting with New York State Teachers Retirement System (TRS).

On the morning of TRS I am picked up in a taxi with two other passengers which is mildly annoying given the importance of the meeting and how far I have travelled to get to it. I strike up a conversation with the dude next to me who is returning home from his job as a school bus driver. We connect on the importance of his work - he is the first person the kids see in the morning, and the last before going home. This gets a nice smile from him. I use the story to open the Teachers meeting and the rest goes like a charm.

Monday, May 28

Over 50 Years And Counting

Gracie is going strong
Eitan: "Is Tesco's open tomorrow?" [Dad's note: Tesco's is a grocery store. Tomorrow is a Bank holiday Monday].
Me: "You afraid we are going to run out of food?"
Eitan:
Me: "Admit it, you were."
Eitan, laughing: "Yeah, I guess so."
Me: "The kid's a furnace."
Sonnet: "Stop teasing him."
Me: "At this rate of food consumption I am going to have to work another five years."
Eitan: "Really?"
Me: "We might have to borrow money from your Grandfather. And buy a farm to ensure your meat supply."
Eitan:
Me: "Want to move to Iowa ?"
Eitan: "Ok Dad you can stop now."

Almost 50 Years And Counting

72nd and Broadway
Madeleine intently watches a movie at the kitchen table on her iPad with ear plugs. Unable to get her attention, I space-walk back and forth in front of her.
Madeleine: "Oh my God."

Sunday, May 27

In Pink

Eitan at 17
Eitan has his own look, which is expressed through limited options given the school uniform.

The boy looks good in a suit and here he demonstrates that pink is a solid option in the shirt rotation. I give him pointers on where the shoulder cut should fall, and the value of belt vs. buckle (English prefer latter) or the number of pleats (seven or none) and whether a serious man would ever wear roll-ups (cuffs) in Europe (Never). He takes it in like the wise man he is then ignores it all immediately.

Eitan selected Prefect, a position of leadership within the school. He wears a special tie.

Money Trail

Tokyo (from hotel room)
More than at any time before, I have travelled the world meeting friends and investors, anticipating our next fundraising for Astorg VII. The cities start to look the same, I must admit, and I have little time for museums or cultural activities still I get the buzz of a new place in my body and the privilege an insider's look through the people I am fortunate to know.

Recitals

Sheehan and Eitan at Hampton recital, complete with full orchestra ensemble
So.. some time since my last blog. I am getting a few snippets of encouragement to continue ("Dad are you ever going to do that blog of yours again or what?" from the Shakespeares). So, since it is a bank holiday weekend (and thunderstorms too boot), I will try to catch up on some of the last half-year.

2018 means college applications, that thing over the long horizon and across the bounding fields and in the never arriving future. It's here. Eitan has taken the SATs and the ACTs and the British school AS exam in early modern history. The results are coming in and they are satisfactory.

Without football this season due to the torn left ACL, Eitan has thrown himself into choir, piano and theatre, where he will perform at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival in August. Otherwise, he busies himself with homework, college essays and his group of friends which provide him with great pleasure.

Sonnet and I crack wise about Eitan's social life for this blog entry.
Sonnet: "You know he can hear everything your saying through his open window."
Me: "Really?"
Sonnet:
Me: "Eitan !"
Eitan: "Yeah ?!"
Me:
Sonnet: "You are so clueless sometimes."

Me, later in the kitchen: "Say something for updating the blog."
Eitan: "For the blog?"
Me: "Yeah, say something."
Eitan:  "Um, it feels like a good stage in life right now. Quite a lot of ahead of me. Cruising along at a fairly constant pace."
Me: "Say something not for your grandparents."
Eitan: "The knee is a bit of a setback. Uh.. I don't know." [Dad's note: Eitan blew out out his second ACL, this time the right knee.]
Me: "Anything else kid?'
Eitan: "Not really."
Me: "Thumbs up, middle or down?"
Eitan: "Middle I guess."
Me: "A carefree life."
Eitan: "Yeah. A bit."

Sunday, December 3

Cool Cat

Madeleine at 15. She's been here for ten years.

Today it is crunch time for our gal with the mock exams (known as the 'mocks') that prepare the Year 11s for the GCSEs, which arrive like a cold storm in May and lasts for five weeks. On the other side: relief, mainly. Eitan went through it last year and, now, the takes the A levels (the "As").

Mike Flynn turns like the worm he is, negotiating a sweetheart deal from special counsel Mueller that likely saves Flynn and his son from prison. Mueller gives Flynn a pass for evidence on Flynn's superiors and there are only two: Trump and VP Michael Pence.

"Democracy dies in darkness."
--Leader on the Washington Post

Monday, November 6

Skate Rats

One of the cooler things in London is the skateboarding that takes place in the undercoft beneath the Queen Elizabeth Hall on the south riverside. The skate boarders have their own thing and don't bother anyone.
Yet, they were nearly kicked out severals years ago to make way for a £120m refurbishment project.
The skaters balked, refused to vacate, and the ensuing battle with the Southbank Centre lasted 18 months. The skaters eventually won with support from the public and then-mayer Boris Johnson.
In reality, the Southbank Centre wanted to move the skateboarders 120 metres upriver to a space under the Hungerford Bridge but Lambeth council received more than 27,000 objections to the centre's planning application. 
Southbank lost the PR battle.

Monday, October 30

Strumm'n Pink Floyd

Madeleine teaches herself guitar and relays a few chords to me, which I hack on Eitan's guitar.
Our gal was once a determined trumpet player which has not progressed into adulthood; our house sadly misses the loud blasts of sound that once descended upon us from her bedroom.
Deep down I miss the trumpet for it connects me to her childhood and it was demonstrative of her determination and uniqueness. Same as the pink cowboy boots.

Saturday, October 28

Eitan Hits The East Coast

Eitan continues his tour hitting Harvard, Brown, Columbia, Penn, Georgetown, Tufts and Princeton. He is accompanied by Sonnet and together they see Katie, Marcia and Larry, Sharon (team KKH), Diana and Simon (team ex London, saving Virginia from politics and the USA from Democracy), relatives and others.

Me: "Look, I've got the the Instagram app." [Dad's note: Madeleine and I are in a night taxi].
Madeleine: "Yeah, so?"
Me: "Are you going to let me join your Instagram?"
Madeleine: "No."
Me: "Why not?"
Madeleine: "I want to keep my life private."
Me: "Damn that's cold g." [Dad's note: Madeleine was calling me 'g' in her texts; she stopped but I continue to use it with her].
Madeleine:
Me: "Hey, have you ever heard of Snapchat?"
Madeleine: "Yes, Dad, I've heard of Snapchat."
Me: "How 'bout Facebook? That one is pretty cool."
Madeleine:
Me: "The best app though is Vodafone."
Madeleine: "Vodafone?"
Me: "Vodafone. Like, no typing."
Madeleine:
Me: "Why would I want to spend all that time typing? When I want to call my homies I just dial and talk. No typing."
Madeleine: "OK, whatever."
Me: "Typing is so last year. I thought you would now it, a 15 year old like you."
Madeleine: "Are we almost there yet?"

Sunday, October 22

Backyard

It is a blustery fall day and, since Madeleine with friends and Sonnet/ Eitan in Bronxville, it is me and the dog, who I walk in Richmond Park - the largest of London's Royal parks.
Richmond Park was first founded by Charles I who, in 1625, got the hell out of London during a plague. He needed some sport so built a royal lodge (now the Royal School for Ballet) and, in 1637, enclosed 2,500 acres with a brick fence to contain red and fallow deer, which he and his guests hunted for pleasure (fence and deer remain today). It also kept the riff raff out.
Well, old Charles I was executed and the custodianship of the park passed to the Corporation of the City of London. A bunch of back and forths took place with the monarchy until 1872 when public access to Richmond Pk was assured by an Act of Parliament.
As commoners we enjoy it.

Saturday, October 21

Korean Joint

Sonnet and I go to a totally legit Korean restaurant behind Waterloo station on an unloved and gritty street. It's a bolt-hole with a line out front and a family operation that does not offer much english. I stumbled on it a couple months ago and glad to be here with Sonnet.
I photograph this young women before she meets her friends.

Eitan and Eric

Eitan splits for the East Coast to check out some US colleges - in Boston he stays with Eric and Simona, who roll out the red carpet for our hero. I imagine Eitan will have a different view on his father following the visit.
Scott and Cindy take care of Eitan for Brown. Scott was on the Board of Trustees at Brown for many years and I imagine he enjoys picking up Eitan at Wilson Hall following the campus tour.

Soutine's Portraits

Sonnet and I visit her alma mater The Courtauld to hear the opening remarks from the curator of Soutine's Portraits.
Chiam Soutine was a Jewish Russian-French painter who made a major contribution to the expressionist movement while living in Paris. He was dirt poor and nearly destitute until Paul Guillaume, a highly influential art dealer, bought and championed his work. The exhibition shows paintings of hotel bellhops, cooks and servants which was an unusual subject for the time (and now).

Sonnet heads for Pittsburgh PA to open the V&A's "Underwear" exhibition at the prestigious Frick Museum. The evening party allows for sexy models, men and women, to mingle in their skimpy knickers with the guests. 

Friday, October 20

Life From The Top

My first visit to Hong Kong was in 1994 with HTWS when the airport was still a scary drop into the centre of the city. Now the island is a thing of concentrated efficiency with roads and walkways inter-connecting the hotels, office skyscrapers and, farther out, condominium towers that allow 7m people to work and live on a postage stamp or 690 persons per square kilometre.
I strain my head on the late night taxi-ride from the airport to get a sense of this enormity. What is equally striking: the highrises are lit up like Christmas trees. Nobody ready for sleep despite the late hour.
It is clear that Asia is the future.

Justin

I arrive in Hong Kong from Melbourne following a ten-hour northbound flight. Greeting me in HK is Justin, also on a world tour for business, and departing at 2AM. We connect in the hotel bar at Midnight for a drink then he is off to somewhere else. The day-night rhythm doesn't really exist here.

Sunday, October 15

Sydney Opera House


This Dog's Life

The pooch gets a couple good walks a day but otherwise, during the week, he is solo during the daytime other than the dog walker.
What he really wants is to be on a farm running after a tractor or some sheep, rolling in deer shit and pissing in the tall grass. Living in the moment.


Hope

Well, the news these days is diabolical : Napa and Sonoma counties in flames; 3.5 million American Citizens in Puerto Rico left on life support; major US cities destroyed by hurricanes and a President who does not care nor understand any of it.
Then there is the derailing of NAFTA, Las Vegas and still no gun-control; the un-funding of UNESCO obligations, North Korea madness, killing the EPA and destroying Obamacare and the US health insurance market with it. All the while weakening the free press, which is about the only thing that holds the US 'democracy' together.
While the White House's actions damage all American citizens, they harm the Trump supporters the most, these morons. The blade goes in deep between their shoulders.
Still, with young people and Eitan and Madeleine I have hope for a future. May they unplug and rise up as a generation before did in the 1960s.

Sunday, October 8

Little Arc

The Arc de Triomphe du Carrousel is located between the Louvre and tuilleries gardens. It was built between 1806 and 1808 to commemorate Napoleon's military victories from the previous year. The big arc (Arc de Triomphe de L'Etoile) was designed the same year at twice the size, but not completed until 1836.
Looking west, a straight line passes perfectly through the big and little  arches, aligned with the Obelisk in the Place de la Concord and threaded by the Champs Elysees.
The colour of the Little Arc is not red or orange but a kind of white with maybe a golden tint. In the sunrise the arc, and the clay ground surroundings, have a beautiful hue.

Beautiful Paris

As my running days are mostly behind me, I am up early to power walk tuilleries, which opens before sunrise. I now mostly take the 8e for granted - the Louvre, I.M. Pei's striking pyramids, the Seine, place de la Concorde and always the Eiffel Tower reminding us it is no ordinary city.
This morning is no different but for the sunrise.

Saturday, October 7

Back To Hair Basics

I suggest Madeleine bring back the pig-tails
The hair, an ritual before bed, is something we will miss when our gal goes to college or California (or both).

Off Roading

AlpInvest, one of our largest investors, hosts a day-outing for clients, including us. As in the past, the day includes activities. Last year it was chariot racing with purebred horses; this year,  it is driving outback jeeps around a muddy course on the outskirts of Amsterdam. That's me driving.

We team up into groups of four and given our marching orders: keep thumbs up on the steering wheel (so they won't get snapped off), don't gun the gas pedal and keep the wheels in the tracks.

My adrenaline gets the better of me and, for a brief moment, I am that dude in those ancient Camel cigarette adds. The heroics make me famous for the day.

A bunch of burly guys - four of them - rock the vehicle as I (gently) move the jeep forward.

All in, a fine day's work.

Easy Like Sunday Morning - An Outtake


Eitan 17

Eitan turns 17. From the soul who cautiously arrived into the world at St Mary's hospital, taking a full 360 look before allowing for his first breath, Eitan has become a thoughtful, intelligent, young man who has lived up to every potential - school, football and running; now piano and choir. I do not forget when, in year-three, the children asked to write down areas where they wished to improve; for Eitan it was simple: "everything."
It has been our joy to have been along for the ride, which is yet only at the beginning.
Sonnet is on the Board of the Yves Saint Laurent foundation in Paris, which she visits for the annual meeting extravagance timed for Paris Fashion Week.

New Look

Adam, Katie, Madeleine and I go to the tamescal barbershop in Oakland. I am advised on the beard and hair-cut which, after the shock of it, I decide to keep.
The first day back in the London office is rather surreal with images of the Sierras seared into my mind's eye. The train commute jammed with a multiple more people than I saw on the JMT; looking from my desk at stone and glass buildings. Life moves forward.

Sixth Form

Eitan is 6'2"
Eitan's first day of sixth form. The boys required to wear a suit and Hampton tie.
The young man is now in his final two years of preparation for University - in the UK called sixth form - where he will study four subjects for his A-levels (history, politics, geography and Spanish).
He did fine on the GCSE exams (results back Aug 24) and we are proud of him - Eitan is probably more relieved than anything else.
Our re-entry into the UK goes without a hitch. Madeleine and I are greeted at 45 by Sonnet with open arms and Rusty who cannot contain himself. It is nice to be home.

Grandkid - Grandparents

We have dinner at Berkeley Jewish deli Saul's.
My parents have had an active year health wise; Grace is through her cancer treatments and recently underwent back surgery, now in recovery mode. Both have Parkinson's. They take care of each other in a wonderful and loving way.
Katie joins us in Berkeley - extra treat - between various deal-makings for The Op Ed project. She is fired up.
Soon it is time to fast-forward to London and leave California, and summer, behind.

Thursday, October 5

Oakland Is Brooklyn

My childhood memories of Oakland: Sears, the 1970s Raiders and Billy Martin's A's in the 1980s; Oakland Airport and Lake Merit which, for a while, was completely clogged by algae leaving the Berkeley High crew team shit out of luck. There were some legit bbq shacks. The occasional movie at The Grand Lake Theatre.
But how the city has changed ! From Rockridge to Tamascal (profiled by the NYT as the home of the hipster), it is vibrant and young and multi-racial. The Fox Theatre a great venue for live music and the martini bars serve a young crowd. The buildingss are funky and disjointed. There is a Greyhound station. It is affordable, and finally the Big Tech is moving in. Uber is across the street.