Coco Rocks

Kellogg's "Coco Pops Coco Rocks," which seems kind of redundant to me, gets the kids out of bed early. Recall that I, in a moment of bon vivant, allowed the Shakespeares to celebrate the spring break with a cereal of their choice. They go "all in." The box has a bland computer generated image of a squarel with large, cartoon eyes, black nose and red tongue - all sickly seductive colours. He wears a baseball cap with a chocolate-coloured "C." For us, the responsible parent, the packaging presents a different message: 'source of fibre' - check. 'Fortified with vitamins and iron' - check. 'No added coulours' - double check. 'Multi-grain made with four gains' - check, check, check! Meanwhile Madeleine squeals that there is "chocolate filling" in the Coco Pops Coco Rocks and this makes me wonder: what the hell is this cereal made of? Again, the helpful packaging:; Cereal Flours (Maize [33%]), Oat (9%), rice (7%), wheat (6%), sugar, Chocolate Flavour Filling (14%)(Sugar, Vegetable Oil, Fat Reduced Cocoa Powder, Cocoa Mass, Skimmed Mile Powder); Milk Whey Powder, Emulsifier, Glucose Syrup, Cocoa Powder, Chocolate (3.5%), Salt, Tricalcium Phosphate, Calcium Carbonate, Sodium Bicarbonate, Flavouring, Antioxidant (Ascorbyl Palmitate, Alpha Tocopherol), Niacin, Iron, Vitamin B6, Riboflavin (B2), Thiamin (B1), Folic Acid, Vitamin B12.

I don't know what half of it is though I imagine somebody had a whale of a time in the lab inventing this shit. I wonder if the rats ate it? Eitan and Madeleine sure do.

"I can't believe parents don't like them."

--Eitan

Broccoli

Madeleine leaves the worst for last and tonight that means broccoli. I promise her "no desert" unless her plate clean and she calculates exactly how much she must finish to the nibble (pictured). Joe joins us today, a bank holiday, and with Eitan we kick the ball around until dinner time, but not before they and Madeleine chase water rowers on the pond. Joe's family is off for Spain tomorrow while Sonnet and the kids to Devon Wednesday to visit Halley. Two weeks, no school. Ah, yes, to be a kid.

Mike Troy

My photo of Mike Troy at the Heather Farms swimming complex in Walnut Creek, California, in 1983. Mike was my coach before college when I competed with the Walnut Creek Aquabears for several seasons. Back then, the men and women's teams won Jr Nationals and Top-5 for Seniors. We had guys like Dave Bottom who won NCAA titles in the backstroke and set American records (Dave's brothers Mike and Joe legendary swimmers from the '70s); crazy John Miranda, a world class sprinter in fellow NorCal Matt Biondi's shadow; and 12-year old Lisa Dorman who, by 16, was a four-time US National Champion, member of several US National Teams, Pan Pacific Champion, 1986 World Championship finalist, and consistently ranked among the world's top 25 from '82 until '90.

For us kids in the East Bay, Walnut Creek a posh suburb through the Caldecott Tunnel and beyond Lafayette (where Grace taught Montessori) and Concord-Pleasant Hill, which had its own successful swimming program. Before age-16 and without a driver's license, I commuted: home to Shattuck Ave. and Center on the No. 7 (now 67) bus then BART to the Rockridge station and finally a highway off-ramp pick-up to the pool. In all, a 1.5 hour job four-times a day beginning at 4:45AM (oh, boy, do I see this story growing like the ten-mile school walk but it is true, I swear). I eventually avoided half the travel by spending the day in Walnut Creek with my swim pals watching MTV, eating donuts, and doing nothing much else. We could have easily been stoners. My and Katie's first car changed everything (thank you again, mom and dad). More on that later.

Mike Troy was a tough-as-nails coach who loved his squad. He oversaw 250 swimmers divided by skill and endurance (sprint or distance, where I fell. Woe's me). Troy barked orders and roamed the poolside, clip-board to hand, rain or shine. He often made the girls on the team cry-- nobody thought this unusual. Fellow distance swimmer Chuck Goetschel would bang his hand on the concrete to demonstrate injury to get out of practice; he otherwise never missed a work-out. "Hell week" during the summer and Xmas holidays saw 20,000 yards of swimming - 11 miles! - a day. Troy had a wonderful Carmengia sports car (nicknamed "The Geek") and he would point at me or Beach or Frick and shout: "Do that time and The Geek is yours for the week end!" We hustled.

Before coaching, Mike Troy broke the world record in the 200-meter butterfly five consecutive times from 1959 to 1961. He won two gold medals at the 1960 Summer Olympics in Rome in the 200-meter butterfly and the 4X200 freestyle relay. After graduating Indiana University (he was an NCAA champion and school Hall Of Famer) Troy become a naval officer and went to BUD/S, or the Navy Underwater Demolition/SEALS. He was awarded for distinguished and heroic service in Vietnam. As a swim coach, Troy has developed many age group, junior and senior champions; over fifty of his kid swimmers have been on national and international teams, including four swimmers that he coached to the Summer Olympics. Troy is a member of the International Hall of Fame (1971) and the first swimmer on the cover of Sports Illustrated (August, 1960).

"I miss your face."

--Mike Troy in a letter to me in Geneva, 1983

Love

The kids pose for next year's Christmas photo. Not.

Somehow our winter ends this afternoon with gorgeous blue skies and lazy cumulus clouds floating overhead. The sun lingers in a friendly way on our horizon until 7:30PM. I think of the Beatles who, frankly, are always on my mind. In the sunshine, the temps ten-degrees warmer and Sonnet and I bask in the glory while the kids race about the playground, Primrose Hill. This is familiar ground though some time since our last visit. The Shakespeares beg me to catch them and I oblige, darting around startled mothers and swing sets. They squeal delight until I do not relent and Eitan freaks out: "leave me alone, Dad. I have had enough." Scott and Daniel join us with their twins, Sam and Leo, who are 18 months old. They arrive on bikes, one with a hi-tech contraption to transpo the kids. They used to have a Mercedes twin-seater lovingly named the "black bitch" but no more. Family will do that to you.

Me: "It is always good for your mother and I to get feedback. Like when you are happy with something, say 'good job' or if your are upset, that, too."

Madeleine: "Can I have a dog?"

Me: "Let me give you some feedback: no."

Easter Passover

We spend Easter Sunday in Primrose Hill with Dana and Nathan and their clan, hunting for eggs and eating glazed ham. Dana expecting #3 in June and her energy level amazing. How does she do it? Nathan flips Madeleine around to her and Eitan's delight. They are the guardians to our kids.

Tomorrow the last day of Passover. Moe tells me that when he was a youngster, his Grandparents hosted Cedar for 35 guests and the three hour ceremony entirely in Hebrew. Moe's Grandfather immigrated to America from Prussia to escape the pograms of the 1890s. He entered via Ellis Island (we are not sure whether his wife came by this route or in America already). My Great Grandparents orthodox Jews and I wonder - why St. Louis? Stay tuned.

"Get Out Of Bed. It's Easter."

I am muscled from bed this morning by Madeleine, who wishes to show me her and Eitan's Easter gift which I stumble over on my way to coffee. Before our bedroom door on grey construction paper with a few objects and one handmade paper airplane: "Dear Dad, Happy Easter. Have a great time with mum and us. Enjoy the presents I made for you. Make the most of having more time with us. Best wishes, Eitan."

A Few Conversations

Madeleine: "Is Italy in Great Britain?"

Sonnet: "Oh, dear."

Me: "Madeleine, march into the living room and get the Atlas."

Madeleine: "That is so unfair."

Me: "Well, it is Italy or no desert."

Madeleine (waling): "There is 179 pages and each one of the them is a map. That will take ages!"

Me: "Madeleine, you can figure it out."

Madeleine, from the floor, Atlas open: "Do you spell Italy with an 'A' or an 'E'?"

Sonnet: "With an 'I.'"

Madeleine: "Then what?"

She finds Italy, and puts the Atlas away.

Me: "Do you know where Britain is?"

Madeleine: "Why do you ask?"

Me: "Atlas, please."

Madeleine: "Oh, Dad, not again! It is in Europe!"

Me: "One of the things I like about you is that you think outside of the box."

Madeleine: "I think outside of a fox?"

Me: "A box. What do you think that means?"

Madeleine: "I don't know."

Me: "Do you always follow the rules?"

Madeleine: "Not all the time."

Me: "There you go."

Eitan, listening to the wireless, pokes his head in: "Oh my God - Manchester City scored three goals against Burnley in the first seven minutes!"

Me: "Wow, that's like if they were playing KPR."

Eitan: "Well, not really."

Tiger Woods dalliances are reported, further, in Vanity Fair.

Me: "This Tiger Woods thing is so absurd."

Madeleine: "Why?"

Me: "He wanted us to believe one thing about him while the other thing true."

Madeleine: "What did he want you to believe?"

Me: "That he was squeaky clean and a family man. But he is not."

Madeleine: "Is his house clean?"

Photo by Madeleine.

Evil

I have mostly avoided following the scandal inside the Roman Catholic Church. I am not Christian nor raising my kids with any form of organised religion. I am forced, however, to re-consider this position as Sonnet notes the Catholic Church one of the largest land-owners in Europe and the Pope has the authority to meet with global leaders. The Pope is followed by millions of people around the world while Catholicism is the fastest growing religion in Africa and many developing countries. The scandal matters and the Church's knee-jerk response to hide paedophiles abhorrent and touches us all. Sonnet tells me the Priest who married her parents in Anchorage, Alaska, disappeared suddenly in the 1970s with no public explanation. Stan and Silver learned years later that he had been transferred to a clinic to "rehabilitate" himself after his abuse of children discovered. Presumably he remained in the Church for many years after if not today. In Germany, the cover-up of a priest systematically abusing 200 deaf children shocking in its evil. The Church responds by comparing the response to Catholics as similar to the persecution of the Jews. This so wrong-footed it beggars belief.

Photo from texasescapes.com

Tommy

Madeleine's hamster "Tommy" has proven a good one - at least, he has not escaped. Yet. Madeleine loves to bring Tommy downstairs to show our guests whenever a dinner party or whatever. She holds him like a Popsicle. Unfortunately Tommy's nocturnal gnawing like a Makita power tool grinding away lead based paint. Madeleine to our bedroom in tears, unable to sleep, so we allow her the guest room while Sonnet remarks: "Tommy has his own room."

5K

Every Saturday morning, 9AM, there is a 5K from Richmond Gate which we observe on our way to Eitan's football. Since no practice Easter week-end, the boy decides to to give the race a go and I join him for encouragement and exercise. There are maybe 200 runners from good (winning time around 16 minutes) to the punter. Like me. For his part, Eitan very serious and, at the bang!, off to a quick start despite being counselled by yours, truly, to pace one's self. I suppose everyone learns the hard way. By midway our pace reduced and I have to bite my tongue to not coach him on posture, breathing and etc. &c. I remind myself that Moe never over-stepped when Katie and I youngsters and now it is my turn to let Eitan figure things out or from somebody other than dear old dad. Wish me luck BTW. So, at the race's end, Eitan makes a dash and finishes with style. He is pleased with himself and notes - "no walking."

Sugar

Sonnet recalls Madeleine's pet pineapple, which she named "Perfect Piny." PP was in our house for some time until, Madeleine reminds us, we ate it. The kids now drive each other crazy at the kitchen table doing homework and Kumon (I blog and ignore). Eitan sings the latest Cheryl Cole whatever and Madeleine takes the bait: "Stop it Eitan! I am trying to read!" Eitan: "Go in the other room then." Madeleine: "YOU go in the other room!" and so on and so forth. Sonnet assembles an Easter egg kit for some distraction while the rain lets up for the moment but dark clouds threaten overhead. Sonnet notes: "today for lounging" and I agree.

Over lunch:

Me: "What are some accomplishments we took from last term?"

Eitan: "Um, Manchester United...."

Me: "I mean us. What are you proud of?"

Eitan: "The swimming gala. KPR (who won their division) and Battle Of The Books" (a competition at school).

Madeleine: "Math, hand-writing and my literacy teacher."

Me: "Those are all excellent things. Sonnet, I think the kids deserve some sugar cereal as a reward."

Sonnet:

Madeleine pumps arm: "Yes!"

Eitan: "I want the chocolate chip cookie cereal!"

Madeleine: "I want the one with all sorts of fruity loops."

Me: "You mean Fruit Loops?"

Madeleine: "Yes. And Captain Crunch."

Sonnet:

Periwinkle

This beautiful flower is from Madagascar and hosted at the Greenhouse (unfortunately I did not note its name). Neighboring is the Madagascar periwinkle whose alkaloids vincristine and vinblastine are an effective treatment for leukaemia and lymphoma. Although poisonous if ingested, some 70 useful alkaloids have been identified from the sap, which has the attention of the pharmaceutical industry. In Madagascar, the extracts have been used for hundreds of years in herbal medicines for the treatment of diabetes, as hemostatics and tranquilizers, to lower blood pressure, and as disinfectants. The extracts are not without their side effects, though, which include hair loss. In the 1960s, the survival rate of childhood leukemia was less than 20%; today, thanks in part to the periwinkle, 95% of diagnosed cases in remission. One ton of leaves equals one treatment. Unfortunately, the periwinkle is only found in the Madagascar rain forest which continues to be quickly destroyed.

Sonnet: "Silver discovered she needed glasses at [age] 11, and nobody knew despite my grandfather being a doctor. She had a hard time reading or seeing the chalk-board."

Madeleine: "I don't want to wear glasses."

Sonnet: "Well, we are going to get your eyes checked for just in case."

Madeleine: "I don't mind wearing them for dress up. I just don't want to wear them for real."

Me: "You don't have to always wear glasses. You could have contacts."

Madeleine: "But I am just a kid!"

Eitan: "You could wear a monocle."

Me: "That would be pretty cool. You would be like 'here, here my dear boy. Pass me some more of those kippers."

We all crack up.

Potted Plant

From a placard:

"The World's Oldest Potted Plant? This plant (Encephalartos Altensteinii) has lived through Kew's entire history as a botanical garden! Collected by Kew's first plant-hunter, Francis Masson, it left the shores of the Eastern Cape in South Africa in 1773 and endured a long ocean voyage before finally arriving in Kew in 1775. This plant flourished as the French Revolution raged, while Trevithick invented the steam locomotive, and Armstrong walked on the moon. It was one of the first plants to be moved into the Palm House in 1848."

The plant also there during the American War of Independence (1775-1783) but I might not include this, either, if I was British. By birth, that is.

Bluebells

Easter Friday - a major holiday in England - and us at Kew Gardens so Sonnet can see the English bluebells, pictured. These, with the daffodils, a sure sign spring with us though one would never know - yes, cold and wet. The kids are happy to do a run around and beg for the gift-shop. Why do we always end up here? The Shakespeare's make Easter baskets at a crafts stall and Sonnet and I find a bench and drink coffee.

Pre-Easter

I am in the office today though nothing happening since Easter tomorrow and spring today, though you would never know it given: A) freezing cold and B) torrential rain/ thunder showers. Tomorrow begins the bank holiday week-end. Dear reader, we have been here before. I think this photo captures my mood.

TX #1

And to show that I am not only transfixed by football ... Texas wins its tenth NCAA swimming championship under 32nd-year head coach Eddie Reese Sunday in Columbus, Ohio. The Longhorns used nine top-eight finishes on the final day to power past Cal en route to the title. The team totaled 500 points and finished 30.5 points ahead of second-place California after trailing the Golden Bears by 18.5 points through day two of the three-day meet. We Bears fans are cursed.

Rubbing it in, the UT Tower lit No. 1 last night in recognition of, well, being No. 1. Per university tradition, the campus landmark shines orange when a Texas team wins a NCAA team championship. The women’s indoor track and field team most recently had the Tower lights shine in that fashion in 2006. Rat bastards.

I spent my Sr. year of high-school swimming with Cal, coached by legendary Nort Thorton, who had one lung so whispered most of the time. We were terrified of him. I trained with guys like Rob Schmidt and John Mykennan, who won a silver-medal in the '84 Olympics. Biondi was there, too, but rarely in the mornings- sprinter, after all. There were some Swedes like T.A. Debaise who set records in the 200 butterfly and freestyle and Bangt Barron, who won the NCAA 100m backstroke. These guys were smart- premed, engineering, sciences. Sound body, sound mind. I learned that one early.

My photo has nothing to do with this week's NCAA and instead a cool shot of Japanese swimmer Kosuke Kitajima setting a World Record in the 100m breaststroke going 58.91, becoming the first swimmer under 59-seconds. Photo from ABC sports. Rock on.

Barcelona And Endings

It is half-time in the Champions League and Arsenal v. Barcelona drones in the background, Eitan glued to the wireless (as Christian notes: a "mouth watering" match-up)(photo from Barcelona FC website). Barca one of Europe's class acts, certainly on par with the Red Devils or Chelsea or AC Milan. Eitan and I are still recovering from last night's ManU-Bayer Munich, who won 2-1 on a goal in the final seconds of extra time+Wayne Rooney down with an ankle injury. Eitan to bed, dog faced. And what does this mean for England? Without Rooney we don't have a chance in South Africa this June (World Cup, mom). Now I am not superstitious and would never suggest a curse but I have followed Cal my entire life and we have not been to a Rose Bowl since '58. Now that is cursed. Will I suffer same here? England mad for soccer, which is one of the great joys of living here. All the more chez-nous as Eitan's KPR Blues tops in their division and assured a promotion next year. Then the games will be tough but for now we enjoy, if not breath, the beautiful game.

So today a day of endings: Sonnet enjoys her last day at the V and A (her colleagues organise tea). We say good-bye to Natasha, who has been our nanny for three years. And tomorrow is the kids last day of school before Easter Break. I am the only one missing some conclusion of something. But really I am pre-occupied: Must. Make. Money.

Me: "Madeleine, if you don't eat your greens, I am going to give you more."
Madeleine: "That is so unfair."
Me: "Sorry, kid, there are some things out of my control."
Madeleine: "Dad, you are either with me or against me."
Me: "That is a pretty strong statement coming from an eight-year old."
Madeleine: "Which one is it?"
Me: "On the greens, I am against you."
Madeleine: "I cannot believe my own dad is against me. My own dad."

Bruce And Roger

I seem to be on memory lane so here are my college room-mates Bruce and Roger. Bruce is now a doctor.

My Jr. year at Brown I lived off-campus on Brown Street with seven Seniors - which meant I celebrated graduation twice but, really, I was ready to be done with college after three years. In that mix, there is now an i banker, several doctors, a US Attorney, a law professor and Roger, a Senior Product Manager at Microsoft, God bless. We have all gone our ways and to imagine there we were, in one spot, listening to each other and what one day we might wish to do. Me, I was itching for Wall Street and New York which I felt the cat's meow. I was well prepped, too, having watched Oliver Stone's "Wall Street" and fired up be in Bud Fox's precarious position of making the call between right and wrong. Money or one's soul. I figured I would be Ok but Daryl Hannah was mighty fine+Bud had the penthouse. Well, instead of the floor trading secret information, I ended up at First Boston analysing cashflows and balance sheets. Nothing untoward there. In fact, in my years of finance, I have never seen anything close to impropriety - a consideration I have confirmed with my friend Joe, who has been a First Boston banker wanker since '85 and wrote my b school recommendations in '93.

But any ... ways .. Sonnet stands by the counter eating Saturday's left-over chocolate cake with vanilla ice cream. Eitan on the kitchen floor with feet elevated on a chair while ManU plays Bayer Munich in the Champions Leagues. Madeleine with us a moment ago holding her hamster Tommy like a pop cycle. I shock - shock!- the kids by giving them tomorrow off from school since A) we were up last night until Midnight for Passover; and B) tomorrow Natasha's last day. From then, Sonnet will be full-time mom for five months.

Eitan shows Sonnet how to make arm-farts with hand in arm-pit.

Sonnet: "You have a special talent, Eitan. It will help you a lot in life."

Eitan: "If I end up poor, I can do it on the streets and people can pay me money."

Sonnet: "Busking with arm farts by Eitan Orenstein."

Self Portrait XVI

Here is yours, truly, in 1983 at Dave's house after a Saturday over-night (I am pretty sure). Dave's English mum Judith (from Hamstead Garden Suburbs or "the posh" part of town) sends me this photo last month. How our past never escapes us. Back then, Dave and I the same stature -- 98 pound weaklings -- while an ongoing joke (to this day I emphasize) our height: he nips me with an afro but otherwise I top him. We both hid behind our yufful obsessions: swimming and saxophone, which enabled us to dexterously side-step those awkward teens. Chicken shits were we, but one adapts as one can [I own a strange memory of biking past the Ellis house every morning, 5:45AM, on my way to swimming practice at King Jr High pool - dark, cold, often raining and two hours and five miles of swimming ahead.] Today, Dave a buffed black dude with shaved head and somewhat menacing goatee. A bad ass. And serious, too - he continues to perform and enjoyed the #1 jazz album in the country in '06 with "State Of Mind." I still swim a few laps myself but not so much.

Three Graces

The Three Graces (here, butchered by my mobile phone) I see at Musee Conde at Chantillly. The painting by Raphael from the Italian High Renaissance and finished sometime around 1501. The image to personify grace and beauty while the figures attendants of several goddesses; in art, they are often the handmaids of Venus, sharing several of her attributes like the rose, myrtle, apple or dice. Their names (according to Hesiod in "Theogon," 905) are Algaia, Euphrosyne and Thalia. They are often grouped - as seen - with the two outer figures facing the spectator, and the one in the middle facing away.