He Must Be A Republican

Senator Larry Craig (yes, Republican; photo NYT) said Tuesday that he regretted his guilty plea in connection with an airport restroom incident, and he accused an Idaho newspaper of hounding him in recent months - it's the media's fault, God damn it! (Craig was arrested 11 June, 2007, at the Minneapolist-St Paul Airport on supicion of lewd conduct. Craig insisted upon his innocence, disputing the officer's version of the event by stating that he merely had a "wide stance" and that he had been picking a piece of paper from the floor). Says Craig outside the downtown Wells Fargo building: “I am not gay; I never have been gay.” With wife holding hand, Craig, 62, apologized for “the cloud placed over Idaho” by his arrest and guilty plea to a misdemeanor charge of disorderly conduct. His deepest regret, he says, is that he pleaded guilty when he had done nothing wrong (this is a Senator, mind you). Craig said he had chosen to plead guilty without consulting a lawyer and before telling his family, in the hope that the case would just “go away.”

Separately, Wells Fargo issued a statement that it, too, is not gay.

Maida Vale

This picture is from our first London neighborhood circa 1998. I post today, our tenth anniversary in the U.K. - I would never have imagined. Let us see, the year we arrived also saw: Diana's end, Tony Blair's beginning, The Merlins win the World Series in 7; Mad Cow Disease; California smoking ban; Titanic wins 11 Oscars; Viagra; the first euro coin minted; the Lewinsky Affair; Pakistan goes nuclear; France beats Brazil 3-0 to win the World Cup; the Russian financial crisis; Google is founded and the world does not come to an end (though it rained a lot in England).

Canada

Here's the old photographer in his train cabin, circa 2002 when he was touring Canada's West.

Speaking of places I would like to visit, Sonnet and I are thinking about Christmas in... Poland! (her idea) while I have yet to see Prague or Venice. Soon enough, if not already, Eitan and Madeleine will be able to travel long-haul to exotic locations and I hope we do this while I can still boss them around. On my day-dreaming list I include Alaska (sadly we did not visit during our California courtship when a trip would have been painless), Patagonia and Egypt. I would also like to return to Central Asia to trek in the Pamirs or Karakorums famous for K-2. One day I will do the John Muir trail with the kids when they are older, and the Dolomites too. This is just a starter, mind you. Happily I can check off the Empire State Building with the kiddies thanks to Katie.

Whistler

I found this photograph, taken by Moe, while cleaning the attic over the weekend. In 2002 (I may have the year wrong), Moe and Grace explored the Pacific Northwest's British Columbia, taking a train through some of North America's most dramatic country. I don't know the f-stop or other data behind this image (perhaps Dad can email me) but the outcome catches the eye: a ripple adds movement to an otherwise peaceful setting bracketed by trees and the mountain. It is the perception of depth and stillness that I like, however. Not bad work for The Amateur Photographer, critiqed by An Amateur Photographer.

Diana

Today marks the tenth anniversary of Diana's fatal crash. Not surprisingly, Fleet Street covers the incident while Camilla Parker Bowles decides not to attend the remembarance ceremony after public polls showed we find her attendance inappropriate (now that is different, thank you Tony Blair). It is remarkable how much media attention Diana continues to receive - and how much speculation is given to her "destiny". My opinion is that, post-divorce from Charles and The Firm, Diana would have worked for Blair somehow exporting the British culture through public channels and taking on humanitarian causes - famously she raised awareness of mines by walking through a field in Angola. She also raised the profile, and love of the otherwise stiff and left-footed Royal Family. What politician would not want her endorsement? Diana would have battled the Royal Family for her place in history, and possibly been restored to the crown via Prince William. It would have been terribly entertaining, a secret pleasure for the Brits and America, and undoubtedly would have sold many copies of Tattler and People magazine.

Sonnet and I disembarked in London from Kazakhstan the day following Diana's Paris. Unawares, I awoke Sunday to find every television station showing documentaries of her while we were greeted to the incredible outpouring which lasted visibly months after her death. Kensington Palace was covered with flowers; Tesco's super market offered remembrance books and people queued for blocks to sign; the Royal Family was forced to acknowledge the tragedy while privately despising her. The fall-out goes on and on. The strangeness of those early days took years to reconcile against the British we know. The emotional cry in 1997 was against character, to say the least, and allowed for a collective expression of grief. My young secretary at Botts & Co., who I barely knew that year, was taken to tears for England's - and her own - loss.

Photo from The Reagan Library.

Got It

The kids have another couple weeks of summer holiday while Sonnet and I dig ourselves out of work, mail, gardening and housecleaning following America which already seems a distant memory. Looking forward, we plan to ease into autumn with Shakespeare, Brit Pop (various concerts to be seen: Fiest, Maximo Park, Editors, Frey, Chemical Brothers) and perhaps a trip or two to Europe.

Berries

Yesterday we head outside London to berry pick at the Home Cottage in Buckinghamshire - this being one of Sonnet's favorite Martha Stewart things (we will return in autumn for the pumpkins). We find blackberries, raspberries, sweet and sour plums and early cooking and munching apples both red and green. Sonnet spends the afternoon preparing berry crumble which we have with vanilla bean ice cream - it is out of this world and Madeleine's eyes glaze over as she eats. In the afternoon Eitan and I practice football while Sonnet and Madeleine ride Madeleine's bike. Madeleine no longer needs a hand getting going and is skilled on her wide turns. Nearby, our common offers the perfect manicured grassy field where falls don't skin. The common is otherwise the home of our local cricket club who meet Sundays, Mondays and Wednesdays during the summer (all newcomers welcome - goofy gear not provided). I learn that the common has been a public place since 1040. It was once used as a gentlemen's shooting grounds then a ladies golf course. Almost one thousand years - go figure.

Bank Holiday Weekend

The strangely named Bank Holiday Weekend is upon us. It is the last one of the summer and mercifully the sun shines (Almost always it rains - this dates back to at least 1997 our first and wettest summer in Great Britain). Yesterday kicks off in front of cartoons, pictured, while Sonnet prepares waffles and scrambled eggs,comme toujours dessus dimanche. Saturday was spent doing serious yard-work while the kids took care of the potted plants purchased at the nearby nursery. I'm a bit sore from all the bending over - middle age, no doubt. NB, favorite cartoons are Spongebob Square Pants, Powder Puff Girls and various gross-outs which I've never heard of before but they can name character for character. Where do they pick it up, I wonder?

Eitan wears his new football sweat pants, lads style. I order him to put on shorts (hot weather). He refuses adamently, stating: "I am myself, dad!"

1970

Photo taken by Moe on the porch of 1860 San Ramon, Berkeley. In the basement of the house, which I vaguely recall, Moe built a dark-room complete with chemicals, clocks and an enlarger to complete prints started with his Nikon F2 - the first camera to have a built-in light metering system which he purchased in Tokyo in '64 travelling with Grace after the Peace Corps. Interestingly, the b&w has two thumb tack holes so this shot was on display somewhere in the house.

Sonnet and I celebrate our 11th wedding anniversary today and the best decision I ever made. We were engaged in San Francisco in '95 shortly before I left California for New York and business school - that was a hard trip. Sonnet joined me three months later with her cat, and we haven't been apart since (me and Sonnet that is - the cat is in North Carolina somewhere). Sonnet supported us in NY working at Ann Taylor which also gave her a lovely and endless supply of new shoes. I studied away, made some good friends and was graduated in 1997. We then travelled Central Asia and the Karakorum Highway with Katie and prof. Ray Horton landing in London for Sonnet's graduate work at the Courdault Art Institute and many years with the V&A. Then: an investing job, the Internet, millions, kids, no job, no money and now Trailhead Capital. Life has been good all the way, baby.

King Kong

Here's a classic taken on the 80th floor of the Empire State Building. Eitan refused to make a funny face leaving me holding the bag.

We got back yesterday morning after an eventless flight - in fact, the kids slept five hours and very proud of themselves. We're greeted at Observatory by Natasha, our new afternoon care-taker, and Sonnet and I ditch to go for a lap-swim and lunch at the Petersham Cafe, which is fabulous and unexpected. It is one of Richmond's best and only open in the mornings and for lunch due to noise restrictions in the area. Everybody to bed by 8PM and Sonnet falls asleep reading the bed-time story.

Madeleine: "I can't wait to be in my own bed!"

Summer Of The Slug

We arrive safely to... rain! of course. Apparently the UK has seen about six good days of weather since we left mid-July. While bad for us, it is good news for some slimy creatures and the BBC reports that the wet cool weather is optimal for slugs who now may number 15 billion (photo from the WWW). That's 161, 290 per square mile. As one gardner says: "I'm a bit cruel when it comes to slugs. I chop them in two with a shovel." Of course this being England, the BBC will most certainly receive heated messages from the animal-rights quackos. This allows for a nice segue to London's most recent WWII memorial on Park Lane, honouring the fallen animals with the caption: "They did not have a choice." No shit mister. Neither did the soldier who charged Omaha or fought to save Stalingrad. Who are these people?

TWA

I photo the TWA Flight Center on the way out. The center, designed by Eero Saarine, was the original name for Terminal 5 at Idlewild Airport — now named the John F. Kennedy International Airport — for Trans World Airlines. The terminal was groovy with wide interior glass windows that opened onto parked TWA jets; departing passengers walked to planes through round, red-carpeted tubes (think: 2001 Space Odyssey). It was a far different structure and form than Saarinen's design for the current main terminal of Washington Dulles, which utilized mobile to take passengers to airplanes.

Design of the terminal was awarded to Detroit-based Saarinen and Associates and completed in 1962 and is today a National Historic Landmark. The building was the first airline terminal to have closed circuit television, a central p/a system, baggage carousels, an electronic schedule board and precursors to the now ubiquitous baggage weigh-in scales. JFK was rare in the airport industry for having company owned and designed terminals; other airline terminals were built by Eastern Airlines and American.

Following American Airlines' buyout of TWA in 2001, Terminal 5 went out of service. The Port Authority has proposed converting the main portion of the building into a restaurant and conference center, but some architectural critics opposed this move.

Weather Back Home

Here is our return forecast, for those-in-the-care. Note the clouds by London - but finger's crossed we have the wettest behind us. And what a miserable summer it has been weather-wise for the Brits. Record rain-falls, flash floods, river breeches... It ain't California, that is for sure.

Poolside

It is fair to say that the kids love water. Any day - like today - that has a pool is A-OK. They've been in lessons since age 2 and are not afraid of the deep-end. Devon and Eitan in fact swam laps. I have Grand Visions of Madeleine swimming the 200m butterfly a la Olympic champion Mary T Maegher (a Cal grad). I recall her '81 US Senior Nationals in Wisconsin where Maegher set world records in the 200 and 100 meter butterfly. The times for both records were considered astonishing, especially the 100m of 57.93 seconds which was the first time a woman was under 59 second for the distance. Both records stood for nearly two decades until the 100 was broken by Jenny Thompson in 1999 and the 200 by Susie O'Niel of Australia in 2006.

Our plane leaves JFK at 2020 arrving UK time tomorrow morning - groan. I ask the back-seat kids what they look forward to about their return to London. In unison they: "Nothing!" Yes, summer's end is a hard-knock but at least they have school and homework to look forward to.

Holiday's End

Eitan and Madeleine pose for what may or may not be our Xmas photo (since this is not the Philip Johnson house and instead somebody's backyard where we are trespassing - hello! - the holiday allure is dead). We are greeted this afternoon by Marcia who has returned from Vermont. The easy plan for tonight is pizza take-away and television. Bedtime will be early.

Glass House

We say our farewells this morning and hit the road for Bronxville and our last night in America. Sonnet suggests that we visit Philip Johnson's Glass House, an early work of his in New Canaan, Connecticut. Irritatingly, the $25 per person tours are booked solid for '07 and '08 and the in-town visitor center won't give us the address so I beg directions from a taxi who eventually tows us to a place which turns out not to be The Glass House but I take this photo of the imposter anyway. Beforehand, we have lunch on the cute little High Street and watch perfectly groomed mums, their nannies and totally hot, manicured teenagers wearing prada or La Coste moving along in packs. It turns heads, or at least mine anyway. I don't think I would last more than two hours in a place like this. At Starbucks, I comment to the cashier that New Canaan takes itself seriously to which he replies: "yeah, man, and you don't know the half of it." As I'm being served my dry, grande, light capocino a wistful mother-with-baby asks about moving to London. Grass is always greener, they say.

FYI - THIS is The Glass House which was probably 100 feet from us. So it goes.

Together

Our families reunion at Mary and Amado's Connecticut country house.

Red Bridge

That's me in front of the West Cornwall Covered Bridge in Cornwall, Connecticut. Litchfield County. The bridge was built in 1864 and crosses the Houstatonic River. It was not featured in "The Bridges of Madison County," Thank God. Nor does it have anything to do with Cornwall, England, which is the county farthest Southwest of our beloved Britain and home of famously named Land's End. It IS a lovely red bridge which has been servicing traffic, one way, for a long time and drawing tourists to the charming nearby town all year but especially autumn. Otherwise, Amado and I play our second game of tennis, which he wins 6-1 (my yesterday defeat: 6-0). Still, it is good to hold a racket a sunny Sunday. We end the afternoon swimming some laps at the club's 25 meter pool which prepares us for a final family dinner together on this visit. Rob, Sloan, Mary and I stay up late gossiping, googling people and dreaming of things to come and next togethers.

I ask Madeleine if she notices anything different (I've shaved my moustache). She: "Do you have new glasses?"

Madeleine in the SUV pipes up several times: "Daddy has new glasses!"

Autumn

Honied yellow dripping gold,

Leaf of autumn

in the cold

Dancing on

in crisp despair

Whirling on

enchanted air

Falling silently to

earthen tomb

Away from tree's

rooted arm

Perhaps the silence

broken then

By hollow cries

of autumn grief

Synchronized with

the falling leaf

S.K.Lindeman

Mary's Boys

Mary and Devon and Simon. Devon, the older one, has turned eight and Eitan looks up to him for all that he is - and especially his age. Devon plays football (check), is on the ski team (check check) and lives in New York City (check! check! check!). Simon bops in and out and the boys amuse themselves by "hiding" from us during our walk. Devon and Simon attend a primary school for Columbia profs where Amado teaches maths to 13 and 14 year-olds. He is well respected and serves as a confident, I understand. Without doubt those kids are in good hands.