Wednesday

I am back in the office following my week in the USA. Jet lag hasn't been so bad this time - age, perhaps? Eitan and Madeleine are buzzy and into the school routine with the winter holidays long forgotten. Saturday morning soccer, swimming lessons, yoga, and Spanish keep them busy during the afternoons while homework - gasp! - occupies their evenings before bed. Reading is the thing, and both kids are working themselves hard. Eitan can complete books with only the occasional sounding-out of a word; Madeleine recognises letters and word patterns and is rapidly putting them together in full sentences.

Before bedtime, Eitan and I discuss the planets and gravity. "The sun must be much bigger than the earth" he says, "if it takes a whole year to go around it."

I spill a bag of popcorn kernals on the kitchen floor and scream to the kids: "M&M's!" They come rushing downstairs for a treat. Instead, we pretend the seeds are red-hot-kernals that must be picked up before we have burned feet. To finish off the job, we race to see who can find the Last Kernal. Who says chores can't be fun?

Joey

Proud mother Susan Schady and her four month old Joey Lawrence Schady at their home in Rye Brook, New York. Susan is my first cousin on my mom's side, and today lives 15 minutes from also-proud parents Marcia and Larry. Joey is a happy personality and I receive plenty of smiles following his mid-day nap. It has been some time since I held a baby and my thoughts return to those thrilling and exhausting first months of parenthood and can now say, along with any grandparent: "better they then us." Susan and her husband Joe are naturals and clearly having a great time together. Susan, my sister and I catch-up on family stories; Susan to start her new job tomorrow at a financial advisory business. Super Moms - unite!

My trip ends with some excitement as I realise that my London return flight originates at Washington Dulles and not JFK airport - oops! Happily all departures delayed due to fog, so my missed connection automatically changed. I offer the United rep $200 for the fortunate weather.

Raoul's

Christian Wright, Sarah Lovitt, Sonnet and I have dinner at Raoul's Christmas Eve - 1995. Sonnet had moved to New York two months before while I attend Columbia Business School. We had been engaged four months. The dinner I recall was filled with good cheer and winter spirits and eventually concludes at the Merc Bar on Mercer Street. The next day we spend in Bronxville with my Aunt Marcia and the Lee family and their friends. This photograph taken by Katie today.

KT

Yesterday Friday I visit Invesco and the Columbia Endowment. My last meeting with Columbia the most intense of the week and a four-on-one with a serious crew. I'm bushed, and about half mast re my presentation and so am happy for dinner with Tim, his girlfriend Kitty and their gay friends in the meat packing district. From there we go to Japonais to meet Paul who is in town from Argentina and on his way to San Francisco before London. Somehow Paul and I end up at a dive bar nursing vodka and sodas and it is 4AM.

Saturday morning arrives too soon and my brain hurts. Katie picks me up a the hotel and we walk to Christopher Street and a Cuban restaurant (coffee!). We discuss life and our station, comparing notes on those things important to us. Katie has created several projects with the her think tank the Woodhall Institute, and is busy putting them into action. Stay tuned. We walk down-town Manhattan and window shop. She tries on some knee-high boots but unfortunately the gold are not in her size.

This photograph taken on 7th Avenue and West Fourth Street.

N-Y-C

I arrive in New York Thursday and stay at the chic SOHO Grand Hotel on West Broadway and Canal. I'm greeted by Katie and whisked away to a book launch on Mercer Street. Katie is surrounded by her very cool friends and writers and knows everybody in the crowded gallery. I meet a contemporary who is working on feminism and the modern-day mom. Another who was a junk addict and now writes about it. From there, we head uptown to the Jolly Bar and meet a next group of friends re-uniting one third of my London poker table: Tim Larrison and Jim Ledbetter. Tim is CFO of an airport security company marching towards an IPO. Jim is responsible for Turner's online properties. I manage to go to bed by 1AM in preparation for a busy Friday of meetings.

The Death of Scooby Doo

Iwao Takamoto, the creator of Scooby Doo which scared the beejeezus out of Madeleine recently, died Monday in Los Angeles from a heart-attack. Takamoto, who learned his trade in a Japanese-American internment camp, was hired by the Walt disney Studios on the basis of two dime-store notebooks full of sketches. He went on to complete animated films like "Lady and the Tramp" and "101 Dalmations." In 1973, he directed "Charlotte's "Web." Monday a sad day for Scooby fans including Madeleine and a sad day for us all.

San Fran

This photo of the Transamerica Building and Koit Tower taken from the 44th floor of the Mandarin Oriental, where I am staying while in San Francisco. I am visiting Industry Ventures, where I will become the European Partner, and also Walden Ventures. I am able have lunch yesterday at the Tadich Grill with London pal Josh Hannah who is weighing various life options including a partnership at Benchmark Ventures where he is an Executive in Residence (Benchmark invested in Josh's startup Flutter). I also visit my sea lion friends at Pier 39 during a sun-rise run. In 1990 shortly after the Loma Prieta earthquake, the boisterous barking pinnipeds started arriving in droves, taking over the docks completely. At first they numbered from 10-50, but due to a plentiful herring supply, available dock space and the marina’s protected environment, the population grew to more than 300 within a few months. Each winter, the population can increase up to 900 sea lions, most of which are male. During the summer months, the sea lions migrate south to the Channel Islands for breeding season, but in recent years a small group stays year-round at PIER 39's K-Dock. Their loud barking can be heard up Telegraph and Russian Hills, and makes me feel right at home - just like the old days when first dating Sonnet.

Mom

Grace in front of the original Peet's coffee. Alfred Peet set up the shop at Vine and Walnut in 1966. In those early days, Peet went to the far world to select his beans and then ship them directly to his shop. The sacks took up most of the available room. Soon a second store opened near the Claremont Hotel in South Berkeley. As legend has it, the three founders of Starbucks, then at Stanford Business School, new Peet and visited his stores while contemplating a business plan. In fact, when they founded their chain from Seattle, they bought Peet's beans. Peet's has been slower to expand than Starbucks, and has maintained (to some extent) more of its focus as a coffee and tea retailer, rather than a coffee bar, a distinction that has long separated Peet's from Starbucks. Peet's is still primarily a California operation, with a few stores in other metropolitan areas. In total, there are now 118 Peet's. The company went public in January 2001 (symbol PEET).

Grace maintains her active life, and its main focus is her non-profit Organisation TLC, which has received grants from the State of California and others. TLC's mission is to provide the framework for the healthy emotional development of children 0-5 years of age within a culturally relevant context, even in difficult times and under difficult circumstances, by providing early intervention mental health services at child care centers in Alameda County. Grace's work brings together many talented and dedicated people including her former colleague Katrina Ross from her Montessori School in the 1970s. Otherwise, weekends find her working away on grant proposal or going to the movies; talking to her grand kids and enjoying it all generally.

Dad

Moe this afternoon on the deck at 1530 Euclid Avenue, Berkeley. To this day, he maintains a rigorous schedule rising at 0515 to read the New York Times, make coffee and check his emails. At 0550 he drives to Harmon Gym at Cal to exercise, joining a crew of peers who work the weights and share jokes and local news. Among the group is Jack Ball, my seventh grade P.E. teacher, who remains as fit as when I first knew him in 1979. From there, Moe spends the day preparing for mediations, working with the Berkeley YMCA where he is a Director, and hob-nobbing with the Rotaries. Weekends are at home watching sports or at the family house in the Sierras. In truth, we wondered how Moe would retire, being a self-proclaimed "workaholic." My visit confirms that he has found a healthy life balance and is content with his station. On a nice California day, what more could one wish?

Cricket

While we are on sports, English cricket is just one of those things American ex-pats will never understand. It is not anything like baseball, tho a round ball, bat and silly outfit is involved. There is also base running and pitching (known as "bowling"). There's even a catcher called a "wicket keeper." Any case, the game really is a means for the former British colonies to trounce England, which is exactly what happened in Australia this week during the coveted Ashes. For the first time since 1920, Australia defeated England 5-0 during the test match - a "whitewash," as it is called here with much despair. To understand what this means, imagine being a Chicago Cubs fan awaiting the World Series. Or Cal going to the Rose Bowl. Last year, England's historic victory at the same tournement at Lord's Cricket Ground in St John's Wood resulted in the players binge-drinking for 48 hours and meeting the queen pasty and hung-over, all of which was gleefully covered by the Fleet Street rags. Highs and lows indeed.

In other news, the 23-year-old man who won £9.7 million on the lottery four years ago has admitted threatening commuters on a train. Michael Carroll, who has a lengthy crimminal record, became abusive after being told to stop playing his music. Magistrates in Cambridge gave him a two-year community order.

I leave for the US tomorrow, where I will visit San Francisco, Boston and New York for work and fun. Viva la vida!

Dale Loses A Bet

Dale lives in Austin Texas with his wife and four children. We met in London around the cards table when he was running money for T. Rowe Price. Prior, Dale was at Stanford Business School and UT. Any understanding, or empathy, I have for the conservative right is because of him, a native Texan and True Believer in classic neo-conservative policy, may it R.I.P. My Berkeley roots, of course, type-cast me in the other extreme so we enjoy honest and spirited email exchanges where the occasional "go fuck yourself" is barely contained by the finger-tips. This photograph taken following a bet between us that he loses (below). It warms my heart to see him in a BERKELEY jersey for so many reasons, but especially because Texas kept Cal from playing in the Championship Bowl Series in 2004. Go Bears!

The bet: If the Cal spread against Texas A&M in the Holiday Bowl favorable to Texas's spread over Iowa in the Alamo Bowl, Dale to wear the Cal colours (photo'd). If Texas's spread favorable, I to wear Texas gear.

Sandy

At the beach in Holkam, Norfolk ("Lord Nelson's County"): Eitan builds a "bug trap" where the "bugs go in but they don't come out." Silly me to assume it was a sand castle. The prison includes a "trick mountain" where the critters go to ski, but instead fall into a nearby dungeon. To make sure everything tip-top secure, there is hot lava trench and the "Great Wall of Bug", which can be seen in the photo.

Crossing a stream in Richmond Park, I ask Madeleine if she knows where the water goes. She: "Texas?"

Factoids

In Britain:

Every two seconds 94 Kit Kats are purchased, or 1.5 billion a year
Every three seconds, the British eat 18 chicken sandwiches
Every ten seconds, someone buys Premium Bonds, a customer switches to broadband, and there is an accident on the road

Every 20 seconds a cleavage-enhancing Wonderbra is sold on the high street

Every 30 seconds, 8,333 packets of crisps are consumed (1 million per hour)
Every minute an immigrant arrives, the police receive a '999' call about domestic violence, and 100,000 text messages are sent. A person dies.

Every one and a half minutes a plane takes off from Heathrow Airport.
Every three minutes a married couple is divorced
Every five minutes a UK citizen emigrates
Every six minutes a driver is caught speeding

Every ten minutes: 15.38 million litres of water used, and a bottle of San Tropez fake tan is sold
Every 30 minutes: 4.1 million cups of tea are drunk, or 80,000 per person per year. Speed cameras issue 30,000 speeding tickets
Every 45 minutes: 98.2 tons of chips eaten. 873,288 eggs fried-up.

Every hour, over 41 smokers quit, a London house goes up £3.7 in value, 150,000 passengers enter the Underground and 14,500 pass through Heathrow Airport, 47,965 tons of solid waste is produced (enough to fill the Albert Hall), 110,000 kilos of chocolate eaten, 74 babies born, 20 tonnes of sausage consumed, £9,000 gambled away, 58,000 litres of alcohol drunk, 23 book titles published and more than 208,333 custommers served at the UK's 1,200 McDonald's.

And there you have it.
(list mostly from the Daily Mail)

Sporty

Today I go into the office to organise myself for the New Year. This includes wrapping up Industry Ventures, which has raised their Fund IV at $107 million. Kicking off January 1st is Astorg Partners in Paris, who will also raise a fourth fund, targeting €800 million. With my partner Giuseppe Ciardi, we invested in Astorg III in March 2005, which as been an above average performer, returning capital and marked up over 2X. Sonnet to the V&A next week, but not before East Anglia.

I'm not sure what is on Madeleine's mind in the photo, but she is working something out, that is clear. Madeleine provides good camera fodder unless I push her too far, then she switches off. It may also be her age, her personality or the fact that she is still under-exposed compared to Eitan but regardless, I'm having fun snapping away.

Sonnet takes down the Christmas tree: b-r-u-t-a-l. Rather than deposit the Holy in the street depressing anybody who walks by, the thing is hauled off to the backyard where it will probably stay until January 1.

Madeleine Sees The World

Madeleine's drawing from The Art Yard, a favorite day for her creative nature (the picture's orientation, according to her, is correct BTW). Yesterday, Boxing Day, we spend the afternoon with Dana and Nathan in Primrose Hill. Dakota, no longer a baby at one year, is cute as a button. She's also walking. Nathan works his magic with our kids, but especially Eitan - it is a boy thing. Nathan's energy enraptures Eitan and Madeleine as we play footie, race up Primrose Hill, and run about with the joy of loving youth. Afterwards Dana has prepared brownies and clotted cream. Eitan and Madeleine pass out in the car on the drive home and we expect an early evening from them. Ha! - Madeleine still afraid of nightmares from Scooby Doo eventually bunks in Eitan's bed and we find them sound asleep, heads at opposite corners.

Merry Old England

Sonnet's 20 pound goose cooked to perfection. The weather cold and grey. London shut down - even public transpo. The kids bloated on television, peanut brittle and our attention go to bed after 2100. Sonnet and I organise the house. I, along with every other British father not skiing in the Alps or lying on a beach somewhere, cannot wait to get back to work.

Christmas Day Swim

Christmas morning and the kids are up at .... 0845? A strange start for presents, but likely due to a relaxed curfew and restless night (Madeleine: "How is fat Santa going to make it down the chimney?"). This morning she rushes into our bedroom ecstatic with a new set of finger rings: "It's just what I ordered!" We put on our swim suits and head for the "Hampton Heated Open Air Pool," somehow open 365 days a year, and where it is "a tropical 82 degrees." This burns off some energy and prepares everybody for an otherwise indoor day with lots of television. Gifts come from around the world, and we are grateful to everybody- thank you. They are opened in less than five minutes. Sonnet prepares coffee cake and everybody happy to be home for the holidays.

Merry Christmas

Peace.

Christmas Bird

Eitan, who has accompanied me the past three years to pick up the Christmas Goose at local butchery R. Chubb & Son, flat out refuses this morning. He's no dummy, and knows that we will stand in line for at least an hour with the other Men Of The Community freezing our asses off. I offer the tradition to Madeleine, and sweeten the deal with a treat from the nearby newsagent. She demures, on a razor's edge: to leave the warmth of our house and her pajama's or brave the winter outside for a candy? Finally she asks: "even chocolate?" and I know that I have her.


Madeleine, at the butcher's, points to the hanging carcasses: "Those are decorations, dad. They are just visiting."

Magic

Madeleine, with empty box: "Dad! do you want to see a magic trick? Ok, close your eyes. Now stick your fingers in your ears." She runs into the other room, returns with empy hands. "See Dad - Magic!"

We have dinner with local friends Steve and Louisa and their children twins Daniela and Sophia and Tobias. Eitan and Sophia are in the same school class. Also with us tonight is Sarah, pregnant with her fourth and so on permanent leave from teaching philosphy at St. Paul's. Not joining us is Sarah's husband Simon, who is a forensic examiner for the Home Office - there are only 37 actives in the UK. Before turning CSI, Simon was a doctor for the NHS, but decided it was more interesting to deal with (or not) dead people. His team covers London and so is responsible for the Putney Murder (women found chopped up in a suitcase), Ipswitch serial killer, and most famously the Litvinenkco case where the former KGB agent was poisened to death by plutonium 210. Interesting work, no doubt. Fired up by this, I watch The Descent when we get home.