Woman In White , Thameside

Beads

Me and Sonnet and that is all she wrote.

I take Madeleine to Covent Garden to buy some beads since I want to make a strap for my new camera.  She pulls over her hoody and follows me dutifully. My idea something 'native American' so I bring patterns for The Sun, Rain Man and the Dragon Fly.  Michael, the friendly gay dude with tattoo's , helps me out: "This ("thith) will take you ages." Since neither of us knows how many beads I need , Michael sends me to storage where I choose bags of black, red, yellow and turquoise .. beads.  I also buy a loom and Madeleine perks up: "We can weave together!" which I am all for assuming, of course, I can weave at all. My project becomes an expensive project but, hey, in for a bead , in for a . ..

Me: "What do you think is the most important decision you have ever made?"
Madeleine: "Me?"

Me: "Yeah."

Madeleine:  "I don't know."

Me: "You gotta have one. How about the dog??"

Madeleine: "I was thinking about that but it wasn't, like, life changing."

Me: "Oh, really?"

Madeleine: "I guess I had to tell everybody so it was an important decision."

Me: "Anything else?"

Madeleine: "Choosing Tommy."

"When I'm sampling from your bosom
Sometimes I suffer from distractions like
Why does God cause things like tornadoes and train wrecks?"

--"Swimming In Your Ocean", Crash Test Dummies, 1993

A T & T

I visit the V & A's exhibition "Postmodernism," a movement from 1970-1990 covering style, design, architecture, music and fashion from Italy to Las Vegas (meanwhile Sonnet takes Madeleine thru "The Power of Making" which Madeleine loves). This period, which covers a good part of my conscious yuf, includes David Byrne's over-sized suit in "Stop Making Sense"; Grace Jone's angular features and Annie Lennox's androgyny.  The ultimate expression of postmodernism : Ridley Scott's dark film "Blade Runner."  Manhattan's AT&T tower, pictured, gets a nod and, since I walked by it almost every day for four years, merits a missive.  The tower part of the new "Midtown" which, by the early 1980s, offered a sexy alternative to Wall Street's gloom and doom and ancient infrastructure.  AT&T, along with PAZ , the Rockefeller Center, Carnegie Tower, the Chrysler Building and the MetLife Building defined the money movement - financiers wanted to be closer to their lifestyle : shopping, theatre, museums, discos.  Usual stuff.  So here is the building :

The AT&T Building (now Sony), is a 647 feet tall, 37-story, highrise skyscraper by Philip Johnson , and completed in 1984. It became immediately controversial for its ornamental top (sometimes mocked as "Chippendale" after the open pediments characteristic of the famous English designer's bookcases and other cabinetry), but enjoyed for its spectacular arched entrance way, measuring about seven stories in height. With these ornamental additions, the building challenged architectural modernism's demand for stark functionalism and purely efficient design. The effect the building had on the public at large has been described as legitimizing the postmodern architecture movement on the world stage. Sourced: Wiki (edited)

Post card image by Judith Grinberg for Johns Burgee Associates, USA, 1978

Tash

Madeleine and I do"Party Palace" for Hallowe'en : She has been begging me the last couple of weeks. Madeleine will be a 'murderer' so we buy fake blood, a white mask, a plastic knife and "a scary mustache", pictured, or, at least, scary to a 'Chinaman' (I love the white dude who models the "tash" - I can hear him going "Ah - so").   Madeleine's goal to fill a pillowcase with candy and she has a plan: Two costumes, allowing her to hit the same block twice. Smart kid.

"If you bow at all, bow low."

--Chinese Proverb

Smiffy's "Chinaman Mandarin Tash" scanned from packaging

Katie Chillaxing In The Bahamas

Police Academy

An old stadium at Imber Court, pictured, on the training grounds of the Surrey Police Academy, where Eitan in action yesterday against the Esher Wizards.  The academy has pitches for rugby, cricket and football - all well maintained and ready for sport. The boy has played a couple tournaments here, before, and I am always struck by this particular stand, slowly rusting, on an unloved, outer , pitch, with hand-painted plates providing long-ago scores, posted on a lopsided shed.  Once, this was a modern structure, the pride of the compound I imagine.

Madeleine and I walk Sonnet to the bus station, 7AM.
Me: "Rusty cannot control himself. Everything is a new smell."
Madeleine: "What do you think he smells?"
Me: "Imagine if your smell was 2,000 times stronger, which is Rusty. He's probably checking out other dog's, you know, pee and stuff : 'woof woof woof : Fred was here last week...."
Madeleine: "Do you know who has a good sense of smell?"
Me: "Who?"
Madeleine: "A mole."
Me: "Yep."
Madeleine: "They can't see and so they use their smell to avoid predators. And a tree. Or a pole."
Me: "Good thing about that, huh?"
Madeleine: "Yeah. And pigs are really smart. Once, they put pigs in paint and they walked all over a piece of paper and made a painting."
Me: "Did anybody buy it?"
Madeleine: "Uh, no. But they really liked it. They only made one 'cuz it was an experiment."
Me: "What happened to it in the end?"
Madeleine: "It went on display at the Barnes Wetland Center."
Me: "Cool. Nice one, kiddo."

That's Rusty

Paolo Veronese depicts "Four Allegories of Love" which are on permanent display inside the National Gallery : here is 'Happy Union' that I happen to like because it looks a lot like Rusty in the lower right corner of the portrait. The other three (and far more interesting , really) are 'Unfaithfulness', 'Scorn', and 'Respect'. Veronese painted the set in 1575 for a private patron's interior walls (NB I got a dressing down for my photo since No Photos Allowed at the museum.  I chat with a friendly guardsman about this as I do not use a flash nor harm the painting.  He notes the rule for "security purposes" but agrees there may be a "commercial reason" as well so I buy a few post cards).

Jack And Eitan

Jack and Eitan before football practice and after the SM game v. Collis School, which SM loses 4-nil.  We have two hours to kill and end up at at cafe on the Thames across from Hampton Court.  The boys are a pleasure , too, wrapped up in , well, football and about nothing else. They can discuss clubs and stats for hours. I try to introduce something, anything, new and am shut down instantly.  I pry about class room gossips , who is going through their growth spurts and what the girls are up to. Eitan gives me a blank stair. Jack shakes his head - girls, right. They crank up the volume with hot chocolate and chocolate croissants.  I watch gratified to be in their presence and, while not really on the inside, not on the outside, either.

Sonnet and Madeleine spend an extra night in Oxford while Eitan and I return early so he can play the Esher Wizards (Elm Grove lose 2-nil this morning - bummer ).  The boy and I watch Alfred Hitchcock's 'Psycho' - he has been begging to see the film since Jaws, which left him non-plussed.  At the famous shower seen he covers his eyes : not from the blade nor fear, Dear Reader, but Janet Leigh naked. The end does get him, though, esp. Norman Bates : "I wouldn't hurt a fly." He asks me to join him upstairs, you know, not because he's scared or anything, then, later, I find him in bed, fast asleep. All the lights on.

"People always mean well. They cluck their thick tongues, and shake their heads and suggest, oh, so very delicately."
--Norman Bates

Rockets '78

A blast from the past. Me and Todd, pictured, my neighbor for eleven-years on San Ramon , and five-years older.  He was all that. Todd taught me how to to make a proper paper airplane. We spent hours watching Star Trek then drew posters of the Enterprise phasoring some Klingon or getting sucked into a worm hole. He built tree forts - serious ones, that covered two trees. Once he dug a deep hole, maybe six feet, in the backyard. Why not? We found large pupae with jaw-claws that we paired off against each other. We patrolled neighborhood backyard passageways unknown to adults and explored an off-limits canyon at the bottom of the road. We collected bugs (killing them in a jar with kleenex soaked w/ ethenal).

And, then, there were the model rockets.  Two hobby shops, one on Telegraph Ave at 45th in Oakland and the other on Salano Avenue in Berkeley (both long gone), provided the kit:  walking in was like the smell of napalm in the morning. I saved my allowance for months to buy the Big Bertha or Mercury V (which , the first time, ended in tears) , engines , igniters , wadding etc &c.  Todd and I built the launch platforms ourselves, which you can see , Dear Reader, painted black, in the prior blog.  Our launch zone Golden Gate Fields, a Berkeley horse track between the Bay and the 580 highway. The parking lot gave us plenty of room but on a windy day the lance might carry over the Bay's marshy bog which would require a search party (car parked precariously by the freeway).

Today Todd lives in Chico, California, where he is a fireman and father of two boys.

Pre Launch

We are at the local common to blast off Mercury,  Excalibur, and Tomahawk and I am 11 years old all over again.  The thrill of seeing these babies accelerate to 1000 ft/ sec. is , well, magic.  The Mercury by far the best launch : we put her up seven times and she falls to bits: first , the antennae needle gone, then the red tower, followed by a fin and finally, on the last launch, she goes up 250 feet then does a slow U turn for the ground , parachute ejecting on impact , tube snapped in two. I will fix her up new. The Tomahawk, meanwhile, my lightest , goes highest: : a C8 engine jammed in the rear takes her 2,000 feet : the parashoot fails to employ so that is that.  The Excalibur loses a couple fins and she, too, back to the shop. A top-ten day.

From some math book : A model rocket is fired vertically upward from rest. Its acceleration for the first three seconds is a(t)=60t, at which time the fuel is exhausted and it becomes a freely “falling” body. Fourteen seconds after the fuel is exhausted, the rocket’s parachute opens, and the (downward) velocity slows linearly to -18 ft/sec in 5 seconds. The rocket then “floats” to the ground at that rate. Find the position function s and the velocity function v for any time t, then sketch the graphs of s and v.

Jungle Gym

We are to Oxford to see Nita and Alain and the three Zs , pictured, in front of their new house which they are making over. I catch up with Zebulan , who "in to " maths which  is not surprising since Nita a math PhD and professor while Alain is a Professor of Mathematical Modelling and Director of the Oxford Centre for Collaborative Applied Mathematics.  Zeb is crunching calculus in the 8th grade.  I wish he was my Analyst when I was an Analyst. He would have been better at it. We talk about unusual planetary shapes since he reads Sci Fi:  if earth were a giant donut, he contemplates aloud, we could see China. Unusual thought and I go with it : could life exist on in our galaxy? Maybe. Universe? Most definitely. Zeb adds helpfully that life might be in our solar system now but we do not, you know, have the sensors to detect it.

Dead

Gaddafi meets his end.

"Badly injured but conscious, the former dictator, 69, was bundled on to the bonnet of a pick-up truck, his shirt stripped from his torso and his body dragged along the ground."

--The Times

New Friends!

Here is my new friend on Facebook, pictured. Who says technology cannot expand one's horizons, even @ my age ?

Eitan invited to join (yet another ) sports training thingy , this time requiring Tuesday afternoons for five weeks. He is adamant about joining, too, which Sonnet and I against given his many various after-school commitments.  Rather then argue , I shift tactics and pass the buck : Eitan's swimming / football coach can make the decision re Tuesdays. This raises the boy's anxiety , oh boy .  So, after some bedtime rumination, I relent : this is Eitan's year to do everything while next year's Hampton School will apply its own discipline .  The only condition : Eitan's exam preparations and sleep do not suffer. He agrees and I get it done.

Edwin Sprog Battersea

Rusty and I join Edwin who walks the sprog, also known as "Alexander" or  sometimes "spot", in Battersea Park on a glorious autumnal morning.

Madeleine Mac

We have a 'no media' rule , accepting homework. This includes facebook, online games, movies (excluding "movie night"), football (unless England or Sunday afternoon including game-recordings), wii's, xboxes, nintendos, nachos, fritos, and etc &c. Computers must be used  in a public place, usually the kitchen, with an adult present : screens facing inward, please (Madeleine breaking about three rules here). Eitan's mobile allows txts to family and (at most, so far) three friends+the emergency call, as needed and hopefully never. Madeleine promised a Kindle for Christmas/ Chanukah which is the kinda gadget I go for.

UK annual inflation jumps from 4.5% to 5.2% thanks to energy and commodity increases. This the highest inflation has been in 20-years. Wages not nearly keeping up , nor are benefits for pensioners. Not good for savers nor standards of living.

That Dress

September 1969 : Katie and Grace on San Ramon Ave where I spent the first 10-years of my life. San Ramon had a good crew, too : about 15 kids bracketing my age on a reasonably quiet street perfect for prison ball, hide-and-seek or some other such thing (NB note Eric Hieda in the upper right of the photo- holy catfish, where is he now ?). This the block where I learned how to ride a bike yet , beforehand, I snuck my Dad's cherished Velo 10-speed bragging I could get it up on two wheels. I couldn't but did make several spectacular ditch efforts which, if Moe had known, would have put me in the dog house. My mom's outfit+glasses work . Katie a nice accoutrement.

Given Madeleine's concern about bird-strikes, Eric points out US Airways Flight 1549 which ditched into the Hudson River on January 15, 2009 : the pilot heroically avoided Manhattan and all 155 occupants safely evacuated ; the incident known as "The Miracle On The Hudson." The cause: flock of Canada Geese.

Of course Madeleine not particularly concerned about the passengers. A little investigation suggests that there is one bird-related accident per billion flying hours that results in a human death. Unfortunately it is usually fatal for the bird. (source: wiki)

NY Minute

Photo from '79 at the Natural History Museum in New York. I wear an OP terry-cloth shirt and matching yellow shorts (NB missing, my "California Swimming" cap). Groovy. Cousin Kelly and cousin Susan holding Katie's hands.  I remember our visit, my first to NY, for the graffiti which seemed to cover everything from the subway trains to the giant rocks in Central Park. I also recall a trip to the top of the World Trade Center knowing, one day, I would come back to this awe-inspiring place.

We stayed with Larry and Marcia, who showed us around Manhattan and made us feel special - Marcia has never been out of place nor intimidated by New York's scale.  Me, my six years in NYC (including business school), barely dented the kettle. Without some memories and a few friends, my New York minute about just that. Maybe true for it all ?

i will put in the box
the clapping of thunder rolling off the sky
the reddest ruby on the earth
the first cry of a baby. the greenest eclipse in the galaxy

i will put in the box
the brown grain trickling through my fingers.
the scratching of a pen wizzing back and forth on paper
the loud snore of a man deep in sleep

the smell of a donut shop coming nearer
--By Madeleine

Obedient Rusty

A year's worth of dog training.

Madeleine In The Conservatory With The Pencil

Madeleine: "Dad, what would happen if a bird went into a plane engine?"
Me: "I don't know. Probably a lot of feathers, though."
Madeleine:
Me: "Something on your mind?"
Madeleine: "They are talking about building a runway where there are lots of birds."
Me: "Yes, Boris Johnson wants to put a new airport in the Thames Estuary.  We need another one, you know."
Madeleine: "Yeah, I guess so. But will the birds be okay?"
Me: "You can count on it."
Madeleine: "I wouldn't want them to get hurt just because we are going to California or something."
Me: "Me, too."
Madeleine: "Can I get a sweetie?"
Me: "You bet."

Richmond Park Fog

We have London fog and visibility 50 feet. Photo in Richmond Park, near Sheen Gate, whilst walking the faithful pooch.

We see Chelsea dis-assemble Everton 3-1 at Stamford Bridge and I learn a few new usages for words otherwise not said in public company (Everton, by the way, a district of Liverpool in Merseyside) . We are seated near the Everton section and, I note, the visitors entirely male and many of them look like, well, thugs.  I am sure they are not but at least one guy thrown out for taunting Chelsea. Otherwise the vibe is wonderful on a warm autumnal evening and we are priveleged to some remarkable football : in fact, the best football in the world.  Both kids, but especially Eitan, in enemy territory and I remind Eitan that last time we were here he sported his ManU gear until he took it off. Under duress.  The Shakespeares get into the home team and we buy Chelsea caps and jump for joy @ each goal. They have slushies, salt-beef sandwiches on some kind of weird pretzel bread, hamburgers and sausages (gross, why do people eat them?). Says Eitan: "Top tip Madeleine: support Chelsea if you don't want to get mobbed."

Sonnet takes the evening to see the Beijing Dance Theatre at Sadlers Wells in Islington with Lizzie.  She returns home to find me in front of "Die Hard 2" as Bruce Willis puts six bullets into some dude's head : "I'm not watching this after the theatre" she says, making an abrupt U-turn. Me, I have a late evening.