Comics

Stan and Silver send the kids comics twice a month which are devoured. Eitan prefers "Denise The Menace" while Madeleine loves "The Knight Life" and "Dagwood" which, I tell her, reminds me of Roger. I think it is because of Dagwood's Sunday naps on the coach, which Roger and I used to do in the living room of his flat in San Francisco by Golden Gate Park on a week-end after a run with the sun shining through the window. Nothing to worry about accept a Chinese and some video or a movie. How did life get so complicated? My favorite comics BTW are "Doonsbury" and "Dilbert" which is sheer genius for capturing the sadistic, absurd, repetitive and meaningless nature of a corporate existence. And then makes it uproarious (Madeleine is upset with me as I blog since I promised her "a wish" for the above photo but, when she asks for a goldfish, I balk. She now stomps by me sending laser beams of hate). I read them every day in the IHT which is a highlight of the newspaper (am I the last to take this medium?).

Back in the day, when I was a paper boy for the now defunct Berkeley Gazette (this would be 6th grade), at the end of my route I treated myself to a Marathon Bar and the comics, which I read under a shady tree on some cement steps leading to nearby Hillside Park in the North Berkeley Hills. Usually there was a game of "prison ball" or touch football going on; or we were climbing one of the Redwoods for a spectacular view of the Bay from way up high. The older kids were getting stoned. Ah, yes, I indulge. A number of the comics from then remain with us now: "Sally Worth," "For Better Or For Worse," and the worst comic of all time: "Garfield." I guess the lasagna loving cat makes people smile somehow. It certainly is not the humour.

Madeleine argues for a pet fish after I tell her we have goldfish in the pond and tadpoles in the kitchen:
"Number one: I want one in my room.
Number two: I will clean it as much as Tommy.
Number three: Tadpoles are not a fish, they are a bug.
Number four: if you give me £12 I will pay for it.
Number five: "I loved Bubbles, Flipper, Gill and Speedo" (all deceased, three buried in the backyard while Speedo flushed down the toilet).

Dusseldorf

I am in Dusseldorf yesterday for meetings, which means a 5AM wake-up and 6:40AM flight from Heathrow. No glamour at that hour, boy. The good news is that A) the sun is up before me and B) no traffic. I could sacrifice a few hours of sleep for this every day. I have several hours to kick around with my colleague Martin and here we are by the Rhine making calls/ answering blackberry emails. Since I cannot say one thing about the river to my Swiss companion, here is what I learn from a few websites:

The Rhine is one of the longest (and most important) rivers in Europe. It runs for over 1,320 miles (about the distance of the KKH) from its source in the Swiss Alps, issuing from the Rheinwaldhorn Glacier, 3,353 meters above seal level. The Rhine flows through six countries - Switzerland, Liechtenstein, Austria, Germany, France and the Netherlands before flowing in the North Sea at Rotterdam.

The river begins as a small stream and gathers speed and volume on its way to Lake Constance, which provides drinking water for most of Southern Germany. As it continues to wind its way to the North sea, the Rhine passes through the industrial town, Basel, where it becomes a major transport route through Europe moving goods and raw materials by ship. By here, it is a wide river. As the Rhine enters Germany, it becomes the border between GD and France. Through the Rhine Gorge, the landscape changes again as the river narrows to form a steep side-valley filled with vineyards and castles overlooking the river. Finally the Rhine reaches the Netherlands, a completely flat country, where it joins several other rivers on its final journey to Rotterdam and the North sea.

The River was hopelessly polluted by the mid-20th century and in 1986 a chemical factory fire spilled pollution into the river for ten days, travelling its length and into the North Sea (this seems like a trifle to the Gulf's BP misery). In response, the Rhine Action Programme developed and, today, many natural species have returned including the salmon which once thrived here and nearly gone.

Wembley Stadium

Here is something shocking: the amount of food thrown away in Europe and the United states could feed the world three times over, and British households discard enough edible food to fill Wembley Stadium to the brim eight times a year. More than a quarter of it is still in its original packaging - 5,500 chickens, 1.2 million sausages, 4.4 million apples and five million potatoes each and every day. And 328,000 tonnes of perfectly edible bread a year (Source: Times). Sonnet and I have discussed this often with the Shakespeares and it probably falls on the same deaf ears as it did in our house 30 years ago. Kids do not understand the relationship between their waste and the world's one-billion+ who are hungry. Most of us, for that matter, have no idea nor care. I was pretty gung-ho to build a compost heap but have since come off my grand plan for lack of inertia. It did not help that my make-shift kitchen drum turned into the most horrific thing I or Sonnet have seen in some while (the lid, dear reader, had an air filter unit but when opened - good, God).

So, the Brits waste one in every three bags of food which costs us £15,000 to £24,000 over a lifetime. Once more, this food finds its way to landfill, where airless in plastic bags and compressed by the weight bearing down on it, it no longer behaves as it would in my garden compost (as disgusting as that is). Instead, the food waste produces methane, a greenhouse gas 23 times more powerful at trapping heat than carbon dioxide, and a poisonous black gunge that seeps in our waterways. In Richmond, our council offers food-waste collection bins and more of Britain is catching on: by recycling, we could reduce our carbon-dioxide equivalent emissions by 18 million tons a year, or the same as taking one-in-five cars off the road. Here's for hoping.

Me: "Shoosh!"

Madeleine: "You cannot 'shoosh' me!"

Me: "Yes I can - I am the master of the 'shoosh.'"

Madeleine: "No you're not."

Me: "Shoosh!"

Madeleine: "La di da di da .."

Madeleine (at our hotel): "I am going to take these soaps for mom."

Eitan: "You cannot do that!"

Madeleine: "Yes I can. Rules are made for breaking."

The kids take turns on different chairs in our room.

Madeleine: "Ah, this one is so nice..."

Eitan: "Don't hog it!"

Madeleine: "Get your own chair."

Eitan: "Well, this one is just right for doing homework."

Lucanus Elaphus

Madeleine races into the dining room: "Bug! It is enormous!" She begs for us to go check it out but I assume exaggeration and finish dinner. But, wow, this sucker is big, pictured. A quick Internet search identifies the creature as a "Giant Stag Beetle" which is Britain's largest insect and best known for its mouth parts, which have evolved into enormous jaws. Despite their appearance, the antlers are useless for biting and used instead to fight other males. Here is what the guidebook says about that:

"When the male has found a female, he lifts his head, opens his antlers wide and walks around her, showing himself off. If two males are interested in the same female, they will fight each other, using their antlers like a male deer. The stronger of the two turns the other onto his back and the loser retreats. Injuries are rare as the encounter is more a display of aggression than a dangerous fight."

Sounds about right. The beetle's larva lives 3-5 years while adults live only between the months of May and August. They stag beetle is now rare in Britain due to loss of suitable habitat, so Madeleine's find a treasure.

Me (often enough):" 'Rules are meant for breaking.' I learned that from your Grandmother."

Eitan: "Well, you either break all the rules or none of them."

Madeleine: "There are some rules you can't break otherwise you'll die."

Me: "Good point."

Madeleine: "In the Statue Of Liberty, there was a sign that said 'don't go up the arm' and this man did. He fell off and died."

Me:

Madeleine: "You never want to break rules where you can die."

Me: "That's a good rule."

Eitan: "Nice one, Dad."

Rosalie

Madeleine and Jenn's daughter Rosalie. Madeleine loves babies and is a natural with them. I note she can have one but not until she is 20. The Smithies gasp: "try 25. or 35!"

Change is coming, that is for sure. Usually puberty the last thing either wish to talk about but I try to get it across in an engaging fashion. Or at least somehow. In this day and age, girls often begin their development as early as ten while boys a bit later yet (I note to Eitan: "what if one day you woke up and found the thing you despised the most is the most fascinating thing in the world?" He shrugs, "no way."). On another note, Madeleine and Eitan now read my blog - mostly for the funny quotes, Eitan tells me - but I must wonder: at what point are my missives a violation of their privacy?

Madeleine pulls the sheets over her head not wishing to get up: "I am no longer part of this planet."

Madeleine re dog races, learning the dogs chase a rabbit: "They should have used squirrels."

Madeleine: "I am going to give you your fact of the day. Your feet are bigger in the evening than in the morning."

Eitan: "I just made up a joke. What is the second use of a rocking chair."

Me: "What?"

Eitan: "A guitar!"

Me:

Eitan: "A *rocking chair ?"

Me:

Eitan: "You just don't get anything."

At The Races

I allow Sonnet her girls week-end and spend (escape?) Saturday in the Surrey hills at a hotel & spa in Lingfield next to a race track which allows us to sit outside in the glorious sunshine watching the horses-- stunningly beautiful animals-- gallop by at break-neck speeds. There is resistance in the ranks, however, as the Shakespeares concerned that the horses will be "whipped." The kids do not know a thing about horse races but somehow they know this (Madeleine particularly concerned for the animal's welfare, not wishing to watch the poor creatures suffer). Eventually the excitement builds and we overcome our concerns for the duration of the first race, about thirty-seconds, then they are totally, utterly, bored. A sunny evening and unusual entertainment ain't enough, no sir. Happily they find the sprinklers which is not Ok since I do not have a change of clothes for dinner. But I roll with the afternoon - what choice do I have, really? The spectator stands next to the hotel take maybe 3,000 people, mostly dressed in fancy, who sit on the green grass and drink Pimms or picnic. There are plenty of children running around, separated from the action by a simple white fence. It is very casual and nothing like the formal events and gambling in my mind's eye. Much better this way in any case.

Madeleine drinks soda lemonade: "I love the way this sizzles in my mouth."

Madeline on the horse race: "Will they whip it?"

Madeleine, thoughtfully: "I just realized how amazing it is that the world is 3D and not flat."

Smith

Catherine with Anneka in Los Angeles. Sonnet and the Smithies have a busy week end catching up. I think the last time they were all together for Catherine's wedding at the Lake Shrine in Pacific Palisades in '06. Impossible for me to forget since Madeleine pulled a runner and security broadcast an alert which was overhead by Sonnet moments before the ceremony began. Yes, but that is another story. The women and their husbands all doing interesting stuff: Catherine's Peter is setting up film projects between Hollywood and China; Jenn is working for the state of MA; Halley's Zoe is at a top grammar school and Willem has attracted £millions of funding for his Mood Disorders Centre at the University of Exeter. Sonnet has the V and A. All this with babies, toddlers and tweenies. Life in full.

Fight Club

Eitan and Madeleine burn off some chocolate cake by fighting. Me, Sonnet, Catherine and Jenn sit in the conservatory carrying on a conversation as though nothing out of the ordinary. The kids kick and head punch each other interrupted by an occasional dash into the house which nets my ire. Do not doubt that sugar is a drug and whenever I reward the little monsters with seconds or a large helping, it ends up in tears. As it does tonight when the children ordered to bed. Recently, Eitan and Madeleine have shared a bedroom on their volition but, now, the love-in over. Eitan refuses to be together and huffs off with pillow and blanket to sleep in the bathtub (Madeleine follows noting she, too, wants to sleep here). When the tub proves wet, the boy moves into our bedroom until Sonnet yells at him "Get in your bedroom and go to bed!" (Madeleine: "sheesh, mom, you don't have to scream."). I command them to face opposite directions or else. This morning, over cereal, Eitan and I replay the evening and decide that it is tough being a kid sometimes.

B'Day Girl

Catherine arrives yesterday for L.A. and Jenn from Boston while Halley and Nita today. It is 20 years since the gals graduated from Smith College and rather then celebrate there, they are here. Lucky them as the weather heavenly. Sonnet has arranged a full week end including today's high tea at The Wolseley (of course), then a comedy show followed by cocktails and dinner in the "smart part of town." I will pick up the kiddies from school, take Madeleine to a Dr's appointment then drop her off for an overnight at school which she is excited about. Eitan has swimming practice until 9PM and that is pretty much it.. until tomorrow morning when I am up at 7:AM to work a car pool around Eitan's football tournament while trying not to forget about Madeleine's pick-up. Phew. The kids and I will scram to a countryside hotel to allow the ladies some time on their own. Me, I love being solo with the Shakespeares. It is the only way to get inside their private world and, believe you me, a lot is going on there these days. They may act otherwise but I know, dear reader. I know.

Sonnet's cake candled by Madeleine, who empties three packs. There are a few more than Sonnet's age.

Wenlock and Mandeville

Well, get used these strange alien dudes who are now, officially, the mascots for the 2012 Olympics joining the games' worst-ever logo. London is a world-leading media and creative city and here is the best we can come up with. Bunk. A mascot is supposed to be instantly accessible and stir national pride or, at least, offer a universal recognition of something, anything, relating to the host or the event (Is it possible, dear reader, that I am suddenly on the other side of a generation gap? The Olympics are, after all, largely a celebration of yuf. Still: I use the Internets. I have a Facebook account. I blog.) No, I think Wemlock and Mandeville designed by a bunch of guys who wanted to create something digital and modern - you know, for the iphone era - and will have excluded the vast majority of their audience. Under 20s will approve, I suppose, and this group a major reason for hosting the Olympics - to get the youngsters into sports and off the Big Macs - so maybe I am being too critical. Yet I wonder: what would Churchill think? (Now we just know that Lady Di would be euphoric). Photo from the Telegraph.co.uk

Elephant Parade

Over 250 elephants can be found across London - pictured, Green Park - in a public art exhibition aiming to raise money for elephants throughout the world. The model elephants are part of the Elephant Parade, organised by the Elephant Family charity that have set up similar events in other countries to raise awareness of the plight that faces many of planet's beloved creatures. Each of the models the size of an adolescent elephant and decorated by an artist or celebrity; they will be auctioned at Sotheby's with proceeds going to the charity. It is hard not to think of Babar, even if that is another European Capital, and I enjoy watching kids, photographers and tourists climb about the statues.

At the turn of the 20th century, it is estimated that there are 5-10 million elephants, but hunting and habitat destruction had reduced their numbers to 400,000 to 500,000 by the end of the century (source: Microsoft Encarta). While elephant populations are increasing in parts of Southern and eastern Africa, other African nations report a decrease in their elephant populations by as much as two-thirds, and populations in even some protected areas face elimination (WWF; National Geographic). Chad has a decades-old history of poaching of elephants, which has caused the regions population, which once exceeded 300,000 in 1970, drop to 10,000 today. In Virunga National Park in Democratic Republic of Congo, there were 348 left in 2006.

My family saw elephants in Kenya and Tanzania in 1989 when Grace organised a trip that remains a memory of a lifetime. We stopped at the Ngorongoro Crater, Masai Mara National Park and vast Serengeti during the wildebeest migration; we also visited The Great Rift Valley which is a continuous geographic trench that cuts 3,700 miles from northern Syria to Central Mozambique in East Africa. Richard and Mary Leakey studied human evolution in this part of East Africa and came away with "Lucy", a hominid ancestor dating back 3 million years. I was there, dude. We climbed Mt Kilimanjaro whose glacier is nearly gone (bare in mind a glacier three degrees south of the equator remarkable). I almost did not make it to the top but forced a second attempt so I would not be here, now, thinking-- some day. A main consideration for my parents was Malawi where they spent the first years of their marriage as Peace Corps volunteers. It was memorable in every way.

He Must Be A Republican

Remarkably, according to the Washington Post, there are as many as 39 interviews of disgraced Indiana Congressman Mark Souder conducted by "part-time" (as though this relevant?) Tracy Jackson including the one below where the two discuss abstinence while the married Souder porking Jackson on the side sometimes at the local park. Where children play on the swings! Souder does not give much credit to our nation's yuf. Recall the Congressman elected as a family values conservative as part of the Republican revolution in 1994 which gave us Newt Gingrich, who shut down the government, and George W, who wrecked the country. Still, at least Souder has the balls to resign unlike David Vitter of Louisiana or john Ensign of Nevada, both of whom remain in the US Senate unbothered, apparently, by their "sins against God."

Connected To Our Past

How does one explain the Holocaust to a nine and eight year old? We try, but how?

"If you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will look back into you."

--Fredrick Nietzsche

German Vs. Greece Household Debt: Germany Has More

Be careful about your cultural stereotypes (source: Bloomberg).

For those who think we are out of the woods take note: The scale of bailouts is mushrooming. During the Asian financial crisis of 1997-1998, for instance, South Korea received $10 billion. But, after the rescues of Bear Sterns ($40 billion), Fannie Mae and Freddie Mace ($200 billion), AIG (up to $250 billion), the Troubled Asset Relief Program for banks ($700 billion), we now have the mother of all bailouts: the $1 trillion European Union-International Monetary Fund rescue of troubled eurozone members. A billion is a big number, too: a billion seconds ago it was 1959. A billion minutes ago Jesus was alive. A billion hours ago was the Stone Age. A billion days ago no-one walked on the earth on two feet. A billion pounds ago was only 13 hours and 12 minutes, or the rate the British government spending it (thank you adamsmith.org).

So where is all this heading I wonder? Governments that bailed out private firms now need .. bailouts. But what happens when the political willingness of Germany and other disciplined creditors - many now in emerging markets - to fund these bailouts fizzles? Who will then bail out governments that bailed out private banks? It starts looking increasingly like a Ponzi Scheme.

W/E

Sonnet and I have a most busy week end (she naps upstairs as I blog). From the Fun Run, we have our friends Tony and Susan over for dinner. Tony and I know each other through the investment business and share a keen interest in technology and venture capital, where he was a pioneer in the PC industry having founded one of America's first "value added" PC reselling and network integration businesses focusing on the corporate marketplace in '79. His company, MDS, ranked Number 9 in the Inc. 500 list of fastest growing privately held companies in the US. Sadly for us, they will leave London for Boston at the end of this year as Tony is involved with the Harvard's Kennedy School of Government. The thing about Tony - I always learn something from our exchanges may it be government, business or religion whose influence, he notes, is growing in every part of the world but Western Europe. What are the implications?

This morning, Sunday, Sonnet shakes the boy from a sound sleep for swim-practice while she runs a loop of Richmond Park. They race home so I can take Madeleine and him to an awards ceremony as his KPR Blues finished first in their division in the Surrey Youth Football League. We join several hundred kids and parents and, mercifully, the acknowledgments brief. Eitan is happy with his glass objet that he receives in recognition of his and the team's efforts. Next year they will compete in Division One and we shall see how they hold up.

From the awards, Shai and Ada join us with their children and we have a late lunch and relaxing afternoon. Shai is preparing his second clean-energy fund for Richard Branson which is keeping him busy. Like us, they bought a house this year and we joke about being the only 20-year renters on the planet. Better late then never, right? They are modernising a Victorian property in Chelsea - Shai says you can stand on the ground floor and look up to see the roof beams. There are five floors in between. The kids join us at the dinner table and we enjoy Sonnet's family-style macaroni pasta. We make paper airplanes but a trip to Richmond Park foiled by work and rain showers.

ASIC

The Fun Run starts at 10AM sharp and Sonnet on the grounds well beforehand to ensure everything tip-top for the 250 athletes. Eitan is determined (hell bent?) to be the first from his school to cross the finish line .. and he does, covering the 5.4 mile course in 41 minutes. Not bad. Madeleine places third for the girls -- wearing jeans and a double T-shirt. For whatever reason, she refuses to put on shorts or something appropriate for the warm weather and arrives, at the end, beat red. I love her for this. Meanwhile, on the school grounds, I and a motley crew of Dads fire up the industrial grill and flip burgers. We serve about 300 of them, complete with ketchup, mustard and "salad" which few people enjoy. Krispy Kreme donates sugar doughnuts. So much for the healthy morning.

Sonnet's Office

We are temporarily without Wi-Fi as the house rewired for, well, everything. This is rather bothersome for Sonnet who is helping organise tomorrow's annual five-mile "Fun Run" which is hosted by the school for .. fun. This requires getting Council permissions, sorting field marshals, securing an ambulance and First Aid, setting up water and food stations, bibs, runners, volunteers, timing and &c. She thought she was on work-leave. The Head Teacher will greet the runners at the finishing line with stop-watch to hand. Yours, truly, is responsible for the BBQ and I apply my adroit management skills to the task: my burger-flippers have their marching orders. It takes an army.

Motley Crew

While not a great photo (taken from my mobile), it does capture something timeless somehow. I own a number of similar pictures from this age: a gang of scuffy kids on parched grass, washed out colouring, baseball bat and soccer balls, unwilling photo participants ... yep, same as it ever was. On our block, San Ramon, it was the Emerson kids, the Prices, Porters, Churches, Hiennas and others - probably 20 of us in all. Since it was a quiet street, we often played in it: prison ball, tag, whatever as long as there was sunshine we were out there. San Ramon was also memorable for the go-carting. Our neighbor Todd (four years older then me) and I spent months nailing planks and wood-scraps, stealing grocery-carts for the wheels and devising hand brakes from broom-shafts, which were jammed on to the downward pavement (alternative: the sole of one's sneaker; feet otherwise used for steering). Rubber-band guns optional -- lock and load, baby. Of course the best part was the whooping and hollering down some crazy hill, traffic or blind curve be damned. And where were the adults?

Blast Away

Practice makes perfect. Here our little angel performs the theme to "Mission Impossible" followed by "Mary Had A Little Lamb."

Madeleine and I have a discussion about jobs.

Me: "Maybe you would enjoy walking a few of the local dogs? For money."

Madeleine: "How much?"

Me: "Well, you could walk two dogs for forty-five minutes. What seems fair?"

Madeleine: "Twenty pounds. For each dog."

Me:

Madeleine: "I don't want to be poor."

Me: "Let's think of something a little more reasonable. My first job was about your age. I swept and tended our neighbors garden for $2 an hour. "

Madeleine: "That was a lot of money?"

Me: "It let me buy comic books which were 25p back then."

Madeleine:

Me: "So how many comics could I buy?"

Madeleine: "Five?"

Me: "Try again."

Madeleine: "Six with 10p left over?"

Me: "You're guessing."

Madeleine: "You know I have a problem with American money! Besides, I would not want to take money from old people."

Me:

(Eitan is away for several nights with his class at Juniper Hall).

Me: "How much does it cost?"

Sonnet: "£120."

Madeleine: "£120! What are they spending all that money on?!"

Me: "Candy?"

Madeleine: "That is so much money. That is, like, over 1,000 candy bars. Or two million!"

Madeleine sits in the bath, miserable, while Sonnet combs through her hair for nits.

Me: "What do you think Eitan is doing right now?"

Madeleine, whimpering: "Having fun . .. ."

David Cameron is officially the Prime Minister, having worked a deal with the Lib Dems giving them 363 seats in the Commons, comfortably over the 326 required for a majority. We may now avoid the another election until 2015, as opposed to voting again in a few months.

Tutor

Eitan, pictured, with his tutor Stephanie who is very cool in her black knee-high boots and stylish jeans and knits. She has the perfect attitude for a kid who already puts a lot of pressure on himself. Eitan prepares for the 10+ exam which he will take next year which will decide, more-or-less, where he goes to secondary school (we are blessed to have a good selection in our area). If the 10+ goes well, he will have a year to relax; otherwise he will take a similar exam, the 11+, the following year with the other kids his age.

Gordon Brown will step down by August and the bets are on for the next Labour party leader. I think David Miliband, the Secretary of State, who is yuful and charismatic. So far, he has pledged his loyalty to Super Gee so we shall see how the political cards fall this summer. Cameron, meanwhile, prepares to govern as he negotiates with the Lib Dems. Most likely he will call another election for next year to get the clean mandate. Governing won't be much fun. Taxes are already 50% for over £150K and will likely go up given our 60% leveraged economy. Pensions and other benefits are exposed while social programs will be on the chopping block. Last year around this time I made a bet with a friend that, given the economy and financial crisis, there might be rioting in the UK. I was being facetious. Now if I said Europe I would have won that bet thanks to Greece.