The Definitive Wedding Photo

Here is the defining weekend photograph taken by pro Steve Wrubel. This week my blog has been filled with images of Santa Cruz and David and Sarah's wedding but how rarely do I have the chance to see everybody together and so festive? The last instance, I believe, was Jasper's wedding in Palm Desert two years ago. Somehow the stories get better, the kids arrive or get older and we observe each other with ongoing continued fascination.

Sonnet wraps up her NY Fashion Now this week, taking down the exhibition one piece at a time. Before it ends, Mary flies in from NY to see the show, God Bless Her. Sonnet also provides an evening tour for the school PTA and 25 women, including Mrs Scotland, the Head Mistress, who glam it up from the neighborhood and spend an evening in the museum. Everybody has a great time, drinks too much wine and allows Sonnet to be charming. She raises £600 for the school. Our position in the community rises a notch or two. Go Sonnet.

Jasper

Here is Jasper, another long-time Berkeley friend dating to at least seventh grade when he was adored by King Jr High's tweenie crowd for good reason.

So, let's see- after returning to the UK Monday, Sonnet and I caught Feist at the Shepards Bush Empire. Her voice grainy and memorable, hitting high octives easily while her songs tell interesting stories. I was pretty knocked out from the flight but we had a fun catching up date. The next morning I fly to Geneva and then Helsinki where the bulk of my week has been with investors for my French fund Astorg Partners.

In Geneva with several free hours, I visit Piscine des Vernets where I swam with Geneve Natation 1885 during my exchange year in 1983/84. It was a trippy experience - nothing has changed and the lighting and mood brought back old memories of what was, I now appreciate, a hard 16th year away from home which nonetheless I was fortunate to have. My exhaustion eventually catches up to me and the Hotel Kamp in Helsinki fails to honour my wake-up call as I rise, dazed and confused, at 10:50AM. Shit! Missing one meeting already, I blast out the door for the next (the Kamp, the best hotel in Finland according to Conde Naste, comps my room those bastards).

Thank goodness I am now at home - yesterday evening Eitan and Madeleine look up from the cartoons as I walk in the door - just for an instant- and give me their big smiles. What a good life.

Heathrow

As far as I am concerned, Heathrow Airport is one of the worst in the world despite being the busiest in the world. The airport has only two runways, compared to three at Frankfurt Airport and four at Paris CDG Airport. Heathrow Airport's runways operate at 98.5% of their permitted capacity so there is no room for error, which in fairness occurs infrequently. That said, getting to, around or through the airport can be a disaster and the continual ongoing construction is less than inspiring. Last year 68 million "guests" passed through Heathrow, which was meant to "process" only about 40 million. The new Terminal Five, opening sometime God Knows When should reduce the congestion and, we hope, make for a world class experience. Of course it will increase air traffic and void our efforts to reduce CO-2 - but so what? Weirdly there is almost always a largish group of people regarding the jets as they land - this photo taken by one of them. The wacko plane-spotters set up picnic parks as close to a runway as humanly possible for the jet crushing thrill of it I suppose.

London return

Tyler and his daughter Caitlin. I arrive in London yesterday morning and spend the afternoon unpacking and catching up on some minor work. The kids return in the late afternoon from play-dates and Madeleine sees me from down the block and comes racing into my arms. Her first words: "Did you bring my present dad?" Lucky me that I was able to find her requested walkie-talkie and Eitan's binoculars. Eitan is a bit more reserved when he spots me after a week apart but I happily hug him nonetheless. Aggie arrives at 7PM to babysit and I meet Sonnet in Shepards Bush for dinner and to see Feist, a great band that caps off a joyous return home.

Here is Ben Price who has been rolling with my camera- see below "Sunday." Ben is an icy kid and all-Berkeley meaning he is a Bears football fan - not surprising as Ben's father represents the Pac-10 and his grandfather is Vice Chancellor of UC Berkeley. Ben knows how to get laughs from his audience and announces that he wants to be the next Mel Brooks when he grows up. He is on the older side of the next Berkeley HS generation, which ranges from zero to 11.

Sunday

Ten year old Ben Price receives full credit for this series- unfortunately I don't know who it is, but man he takes an interesting portrait. This is the morning after and we kick outside by the organic tomato fields which supply Chez Penisse restaurant. There is a lot of hangover going on and some did not sleep. The fall sun is splendid and I am reminded that the best Norcal weather comes in September and October. More beer and vodka is drunk but I abstain thinking about my return trip to London this evening. The honeymooners will honeymoon at the Post Ranch Inn in Big Sur, where Sonnet and I spent ours 11 years ago. The day has that sleepy feeling similar to the school playground after the final bell has rung.

Wrubes

Steve I have known since age ten at Camp K&J and then King Jr. High. He introduced me to the La Coste alligator - or was that Eric Price? Regardless, we later teamed up on swimming though Steve always preferred water polo where his power shot was legendary. He once snapped the arm of a defending goalie during a high school match. Since Berkeley, Wrubes has photographed cities, models, retail and us while pursuing his creative and professional media career (he received his degree from the Brooks Institute in Santa Barbara). In the mix, he and his wife Lucy spent two years in Rome living nearby the Pantheon; they now reside in Dallas, Texas with their beautiful, and beautifully photographed, daughter Stella. Steve frequently attends the Cowboys on Sunday and otherwise hangs out with the glamorous crowd. Life is good.

The Bride

David's bride Sarah moments before the deed is done. We love her. On Santa Cruz: the city has a population of aprox. 54,000 and is tucked into the northern edge of the Monterey Bay. In 1791, the Mission Santa Cruz was established - the twelfth in California. A university was built with a 'banana slug' mascot. Then, in the 1950s, surfing was discovered and the sleepy hollow became a mecca for surfers and middle-aged water hippies who arrived from the world over. Classic spots include Steamers Lane and three and four mile points - simply that distance on Highway 1 from the Santa Cruz lighthouse. Barnies are not welcome. Farther north at Pillar Point Harbor near Half Moon Bay are Mavericks which, on a good swell out of the Pacific, crest at 50 feet or higher. The break is caused by an unusually-shaped underwater rock. Mavericks Point was discovered by Jeff Clark in 1975 and he surfed the Giants for 15 years before the world caught up with him and them in 1991. The story is recently documented in Riding Giants. Driving to the wedding I see the Mavericks on a deserted day - rocky cliffs, kelp and angry froth greet the suicidals who revel in this action. Me, I prefer boogy boarding closer to a sandy shore.

"Surfing, alone among sports, generates laughter at its very suggestion, and this is because it turns not a skill into an art, but an inexplicable and useless urge into a vital way of life."
MATT WARSHAW, Maverick's: The Story of Big-Wave Surfing

Stripey

Guests begin to arrive from all over and Friday evening is spent drinking, eating, telling and re-telling fabled stories and more drinking. We retire around midnight - quite a feat given the number of parents (I'm solo and not complaining!). Some sleep in tents, others in hotels or with each other while I bunk up with Tyler and Sheila, Erica and Paul and Mike and Andrea plus their nine kids ages three to 11. It is not quiet. Molly, pictured, belongs to Tyler and is one gorgeous kid. She's bashful so I have to take a few quick snaps as she ducks behind her mum.

“There are two major products that came out of Berkeley: LSD and UNIX. We don't believe this to be a coincidence.”

Jeremy Anderson

The Mighty Citroën

David in his vintage Citroën , which has been lovingly refurbished by him including plush interior seating, a new sound system and restored original body work. The Citroën hangs remarkably low to the ground, perhaps only four inches, and when I comment on this Dave hops into the car to show me the hydraulics. The car miraculously raises about one foot into the air providing plenty of air space for depressions or bumps in the road. It is all class and perfect for the honeymoon get-away. Here is what I know about the Citroën: the company was founded by Andre, a Jew, in 1919 and is today part of the French Peugeot Group. It was the first car company to mass-produce a front-wheel drive car and its cars somehow just feel Frenchie. Famous models are 2CV ("The Duck"), the DS ("Goddess") and the CX - pictured.

Ultan!

I drive south on HW 1 Friday afternoon following a morning with Industry Ventures and Walden VC. Often The Great Highway is washed out or chunks have fallen into the Pacific but this trip is uninterrupted and in any case always spectacular. David Ultan is getting married. David and I have known each other since the fifth grade back in the day at Longfellow Elementary. Our teacher, Mrs. Riles, was an obese black woman who loved us and all her kids which included Boat People who had arrived from Asia barely speaking english. Ah, Berkeley - that would have been 1976-78. David and I at different times in our adult lives returned to Longfellow to find Mrs. Riles but she has since long gone. I arrive at the wedding house in the Santa Cruz mountains during the set up, which gives me a few free hours with the groom as we hustle food and booze to various strategic locations and David takes calls from his homies who are coming in. The food is prepared by former Chez Panise cooks and man is there a spread. It is all good.

Will Quist

Will recently joined Industry Ventures following a year playing professional water polo in Hungary (I have been helping Industry source investments and capital from London). Before that, he was an All American swimmer and H20 player at Cal where his 200 yard freestyle time of 1:37 qualified for the NCAA's. Will trained with Nort Thorton who still coaches Cal after all these years - I swam with Nort my senior year of high school when legends Matt Biondi and John Mykennan (silver medalist 400m '84 Olympics) were there. Now Will stuffs himself into some Banana Republic clothes and sources secondary deals for the fund. This photo of Will taken at the Industry Ventures offices of 750 Battery Street.

Bay Bridge

The Bay Bridge is the bluecollar bridge connecting the East Bay's Oakland to San Francisco and the peninsula. Unfortunately for the 280,000 daily drivers, the regions affordable housing is on one side and Silicon Valley and jobs the other - there are only three bridges and everybody drives at rush hour creating the second worst traffic zone in America trailing only horrible L.A. The Bay Bridge opened in 1936 while the western crossing (pictured), from San Francisco to the island, consists of two suspension bridges end-to-end with an anchorage, plus three shorter truss spans connecting the San Francisco landing to the western cable anchorage located on Rincon Hill. The eastern span between Yerba Buena Island and Oakland consists of a double-tower cantilever span, five medium-span truss bridges, and a 14 section truss causeway. These east bay structures are scheduled to be replaced by an entirely new crossing now under construction though for the life of me I have never seen a construction worker during my umpteen visits these past five years. My photo taken this morning from Christian Wright's flat.

Editors

Christian, sporting his John Terry England T and England top, and I go to see the Brit-pop band The Editors last night at the Filmore. We follow our usual tradition of a five course meal at Delfina's on 18th and Valencia in San Francisco. The waitresses all know Christian and dote upon him making us feel well loved. The band is most excellent and reminds me a bit of The Cure with lead Tom Smith sporting a goofy curly hair thing that he places particularly throughout the show. Afterwards we hit the 24 hour donut shop and watch the England-Russia football game from last week (England wins - again - 3 to nil).

Ad

Adam, his business partner Scott and I have dinner at the Oyster Bar in Grand Central Station. Adam and Scott are in New York by invitation to a film market to promote their new documentary "Satan and Adam." The film traces the blues duo of Sterling "Mister Satan" Magee and Adam Gussow, who were a fixture on Harlem's sidewalks in the late 1980s and early 1990s. Magee sings in a style that fuses blues with elements of soul and rap, plays electric guitar with withering intensity, and uses both feet to stomp out polyrhythms on a homemade percussion setup that includes hi-hat cymbals topped with tambourines and maracas. Gussow plays amplified harmonica in an equally fluent and original way. Together, Satan and Adam have, as journalist Richard Skelley noted, "redefined and shaped the sound of modern blues so much that 'I Want You' from their Harlem Blues debut was included on a Rhino Records release, "Modern Blues of the 1990s."

The balance of my day is spent walking around Mid-Town, meeting people at tall buildings with nice views. I catch-up with business school friend Spencer Wells whose hedge fund Silver Point now manages $9.4 billion and employs 250 staff. Spencer was the six guy and made Partner last year. Bravo!

Times Square

I have a busy day running around Manhattan but the best part is drinking a martini with Katie and Jeremy at Cafe Luxemberg on 70th and Broadway. Katie and I usually go there solo and sit at the bar eating bar food. Tonight I have a hamburger and onion rings then catch a cab to the W to grab my camera and take some shots of Times Square. I like the Evil Eye, pictured, looking down on it all. I now blog and watch a Soprano's re-run. About Times Square:

In the early 1900s, New York Times publisher Adolph Ochs moved the newspaper's operations to a new skyscraper on 42nd Street in Longacre Square. Ochs persuaded the mayor to construct a subway station there, and the area was renamed "Times Square" on April 8, 1904. Just three weeks later, the first electrified advertisement appeared on the side of a bank at the corner of 46th Street and Broadway.

The New York Times moved to more spacious offices across Broadway in 1913. The old Times Building was later named the Allied Chemical Building. Now known simply as One Times Square, it is famed for the "ball" which "drops" from a tower on its roof every New Year's Eve.

Diprima

I have dinner with Steve Diprima and his family on the Upper West Side where they live next to the Museum of Natural History. Steve and I worked m&a together and I have known him since 1991 which is hard for both of us to believe, really. Steve split Wall Street finance to get his J.D. from Columbia and is now a Partner at Wachtel Lipton. We share running and he was on the cross-country team at Wesleyan. His marathon time is irritatingly faster than mine- 3:04 at Big Sur vs. my 3:11 at London - and we spend a lot of time discussing who is really the superior athlete. Steve's two kids Dominic and Tea are into football, baseball and music. Dominic plays the electric guitar and puts on a bright red afro to show me how to jam like Jimmy Hendricks or White Slip, a metal band I've thankfully never heard of. Steve is a Mets fan and happy about his prospects: the Mets lead their division by three with 17 games to go. Life is good.

JFK Express

I leave for New York this morning, saying a sad good-bye to Sonnet and the teary-eyed little Shakespeares. Brightening things up a bit, Eitan and Madeleine send me off with a presents-list: Eitan asks for pair of binoculars and a play-dough maker while Madeleine wants a "grown up ring" and a walkie-talkie. "It's for both of us," she confides to Eitan. I'm staying at the five-star W Hotel in Times Square which is decidedly cool, if average. Feel'n kind of gay. It's a perfect time to be in the Big Apple as the weather is cool with a touch of autumn and bright sunshine, lazy clouds. I jog Central Park with my camera and take this shot of the Time Warner Building; a crazy man yells at a crowd watching a rapper rap: "All sinners - and that means you mister! - are all going to hell," yells the man.

Swimmer

Eitan tries out, and succeeds, for the Wandsworth SC. Thanks to his lessons with Vortec, he is as good or better than most kids on the young squad. The kids race back and forth doing crawl, kicking and back-stroke. Eitan breathlessly tells me that he wants to be a "swim racer." Football remains the sport but he's giving swimming a go. Us parents sit in the stands fiddling with the Blackberries or reading. An 0830 start time is a luxury, for Pete's sake - it ain't swim practice unless it starts at 6:30AM, right dad?

I prepare for America leaving tomorrow from Heathrow. I will be in NY for several days then the Bay Area for David Ultan's wedding. Lucky me I will also see Katie in the Big Apple, Grace and Moe in Berkeley and other friends along the way. I will do some work but who ever remembers that?

Sonnet tucks Eitan, age 3, into bed: "I'm so lucky that I have you."
Eitan: "I'm so lucky that I have ice cream."

Madeleine from the back-seat: "I know a mosquito can't suck your bones, but what if it could?"

Madeleine, walking home from football: "Dad our side lost one to nothing but I still scored two goals."

Madeleine contemplates our relationship: "I used to not like you dad. But now I do."

Pitch perfect

Eitan and I are up early for sports. We walk early to the Bank of England sports club in Richmond where Eitan has joined the swimming team. From there we have an hour before football so we pack tennis rackets and do some drills in Palewell Park. Finally his favorite - football! - and he plays well following the summer break. All the boys, and us dads, are happy to re-unite and talk about the summer and property values. Middle age, baby.

I find my giant Snicker's bar in Eitan's candy chest. I ask him how it got there and he sheepishly tells me that he took it from the freezer. I say that if he can steal my candy, I can steal his - unless, of course, I find the Snickers bar returned to its place. He contemplates this seriously: is a giant Snickers in hand worth two from the pile? He wisely puts it back.

Eitan: "I want to play for Manchester United when I grow up!"

Before Madeleine's first try at Stage Coach, a performance art class, I tell her it's going to be great. Says she matter-of-factly: "It might not be, dad."