SFBA

Every day I check , via the Laurence Hall of Science webcam, pictured, to see what the weather like in the San Francisco Bay Area.  I think of my parents and friends and wonder : what are they up to now ?

For a while , in the '70s, I was spending afternoons in the LHS computer center playing computer games.  This when one could make prints of Snoopy or the Peace Symbol with 'x' and 'o's.  I ran a program matching NFL teams allowing me to choose offense plays : run, pass, screen . .  I chose the same counter-plays on defense. From start to finish, a game might take 45 minutes.  Since I was an Oakland fan, I matched the Raiders against every team in the league; I stored the scrolls for years in my bedroom closet.

To get to the computers, I discovered a route straight up hill from my parent's house to LHS, pictured above.  There was no marked trail so all scramble.  Just one of those things a kid figures out.

Hammersmith Bridge @ Night

My favourite bridge, the Hammersmith Bridge. The tide is 'out.'

In June 2000 the bridge damaged by a Real IRA bomb planted underneath the Barnes span, or far side of my photo. The blast four-years after a previous attempted bombing by the Provisional IRA, but following two years of closure and traffic misery, the bridge reopened with weight baring restrictions.

The IRA's first try to destroy the bridge in '39 foiled by the quick-thinking hair dresser, Maurice Childs, of Chiswick, who was walking home in the early morning and noticed smoke and sparks coming from a suitcase. He opened it to find a bomb which he tossed into the river; the explosion sent up a 60-foot plume of water. A second device exploded causing girders on the west side of the bridge to collapse and shattering windows in nearby houses.

Maurice awarded an MBE for his courage while Eddie Connell and William Browne given jail sentences of 20 and 10 years, respectively, for the bombing.

Leslie Encore

My new fab friend Leslie invites me to the Arsenal v. Everton match with Dan and Sean, who is dating Sean, who we met with Leslie for dinner last week. Dan and Sean, the first Sean that is, are identical twins. Got that? Here we are at a pub in Finsbury before the game.  Leslie returns to El Lay Tuesday.

Selfridges Or Bust

This cool spinning objet stationed between floors at Selfridges department store - the London equivalent of Bloomingdales.  A black woman belts the blues from the third or fourth floor; elsewhere I am assaulted by Abba and other cleverly recycled music of my middle-aged yuf to put me in the mood to buy. Buy! Buy!!  Unbelievably I round a corner to face a young woman's ass in a tight-fitting bikini brief. The underwear department. Her male partner wears pink underpants; together they dance on a moving treadmill.

So this is where models spend their days outfitted in black leggings, hooker boots and fur which is all the rage. Where else can these silly people go, really?  A stylish Japanese lady directs me to the men's department which is on the first-floor or half a city block. All I want  is a stripey winter hat.

People always mean well. They cluck their thick tongues, and shake their heads and suggest, oh, so very delicately.. . . That last bit from Psycho. I sometimes feel like Norman watching the shoppers : stupidly fondling this year's collection of over-priced fabrics with "Super Dry" or "Ralph Lauren" attached.  Should one have the money, this the last bastion of unfettered expression. And, Lord knows, the people are discerning.

This time of year, in this kind of place, I am self-loathing.

Emanuel

Madeleine prepares for her first secondary-school interview at the Emanuel School, which has been around for over 400 years and 150 longer then my alma mater. The Deputy Head sweeps our girl away after giving me a firm handshake so I sit in the reception area drinking stale coffee, talking to a few mums whose children also interviewing, and mostly not fretting : Madeleine a good kid. And the Deputy Head agrees, taking me aside and saying so: "I will definitely recommend Madeleine to the school." Of course he may say this to every child he greets.  Now Madeleine must do well on her 10+ exam coming in January. The pressure on.

Madeleine: "Dad, is it allowed to have swear words in kids books?"
Me: "Well, then it wouldn't be a kid's book, would it?"
Madeleine: "Just say there was a swear word. Would it be allowed?"
Me: "No,  probably not."
Madeleine: "There is one. In the book I am reading."
Me: "Really?"
Madeleine: "It is one of the 'B' words."
Me: "Like Bee-atch?"
Madeleine: "Dad!"
Me: "Bastard? Bottom? Big Ass?"
Madeleine: "I am never talking to you again."
Me: "Breast. Boobs? Bollocks!"
Madeleine:
Me: "Did I guess it?"
Madeleine: "Yes, Dad, you got it."
Me: "Let me know if there are any more curse words."
Madeleine: "Yeah, right, Dad. And also I am not talking to you again. Ever."

Der Euro

Rusty joins me in the office oblivious to the crisis surrounding him.

So, to the Euro, which I am asked about often these days. In future, I will direct my friends here.  Sooo.. A break-up, even a partial one, would be chaotic. A full or comprehensive break-up, with the eurozone becoming a Greater Deutschmark with maybe ten other currencies, would create pandemonium. It would not be a planned, orderly, gradual unwinding of existing political, economic and legal commitments. Exit, partial or full, would probably be precipitated by disorderly sovereign defaults in the fiscally and competitively weak member states, whose currencies collapse and banks fail.  If Spain and Italy were to exit, there would be a collapse of systemically important financial institutions throughout the European Union and North America and years of global depression.

Consider ditching Greece, which amounts to just 2% of the eurozone economy : Most contracts, including bank deposits, sovereign debt, pensions and wages would be denominated in new Drachma and a sharp devaluation of, say 65%, of the new currency would follow.  As soon as an exit anticipated, depositors would flee Greek banks and all new lending governed by Greek law would in effect cease. Even before the exit, the sovereign and the banking system would fail b/c of a lack of funding.  Following the exit, contracts and finl instruments written under foreign law would probably remain euro-dominated. Balance sheets would become unbalanced and widespread default, insolvency and bankruptcy would result. Greek output would collapse.

Greece would temporarily gain a competitive advantage from the sharp decline in the new Drachma's value but, like Portugal, Spain and Italy, Greece does not have the persistent nominal rigidities to make it a lasting competitive advantage. Sovereign wage and price inflation would restore the uncompetitive status quo. Without external funding, imports would collapse, disrupting domestic production. Aggregate demand and aggregate supply would chase each other downwards.

If Greece kicked out because other member states (Germany) refuse to fund the Greek sovereign and the European Central Bank refuses to fund Greek banks, the markets would beam on the next most likely country to go.This would prompt a run on that country's banks and stop funding for its sovereign, financial institutions and companies.  Fear might then force the departure of the afflicted country. Exit contagion might sweep right through the rest of the eurozone periphery - Portugal, Ireland, Spain and Italy -and then Belgium, Austria and France.

Boom.

Grand Union Canal

Me and Madeleine by the Grand Union Canal in Paddington, London, circa 2002.

The surrounding neighbourhood Maida Vale and Little Venice, which owns enormous detached houses made all the more interesting by their proximity to the ancient, industrial, waterways.  The canal connects here to Birmingham 137 miles northwest with 166 locks , each charging a toll. By the mid-19th century, trains and, eventually, lorries, made the canals obsolete. Deserted, they fell into disrepair until an Act of Parliament in 1931 demanded their upkeep.

The canal 5-feet, six-inches at its deepest point with a minimum 26-foot width allowing two boats to cross each other. The canal boats long and narrow : they are still used to transport coal and other stuff but mostly they are kept for leisure purposes. Some weirdos live in the things and a canal-berth in Central London goes for £120,000.

I used to run along the canal toe-path which covers a fair stretch of urban blight before entering the countryside. Along the embankment are white markings which, for the longest time, made me wonder : why? It turns out that anglers own the "rights" to specific spots , which are passed down through the generations. Sunday mornings the fishermen out in force, too, with top-of-the-line water gear and 25-foot poles; some of the better equipped outfits have hydrolics lowering the fishermen into the water. God only knows what they pull up - maybe an old boot or a shopping cart? I asked once and got only a blank stair.

Madeleine: "Dad! You're home! I'm so glad to see you!"
Me: "Hiya, Kiddo. How was your day?"
Madeleine: "My fish almost died."
Me: "No! What happened?"
Madeleine: "I went in to feed him. And he was lying on the surface sort of on his side, breathing through his mouth."
Me: "Oh?"
Madeleine: "So I swirled him around a bit and he moved to the middle of his tank."
Me: "And?"
Madeleine: "What?"
Me: "Is he alive?"
Madeleine: "Yeah, I guess so."

La Rue

rue du Faubourg St Honoree - the most glamorous street in Paris and perhaps all the world. My shot from this morning, 8AM, walking towards the Astorg offices from the hotel . Me, otherwise up at 6AM, running in the dark, crossing le pont neuf then alongside the Seine to 'île de la Cité and around Notre Dame, through the Louvre and jardin des Touleries,  then the Place de la Concorde and finally my terminus, Le Crillon,  next to the American Embassy whose stars and stripes I salute. This before sunrise.

Miss France, Y'All

Since Paris, Miss France (photo credit: Abaca). 

The wonderfully named Delphine Wespiser notes in her first official address (my translation) "I won the beauty contest because of my speech. I think and hope that the French turned to me for my speech. An object does not speak, does not think. The election of Miss France shows woman are valued and I find it beautiful. "

In our house it is all about 'the speech' : Eitan and Madeleine valued for their school, sport, activities and friends. Sonnet and I make sure it is so .

Leslie & Sean

Our new friends Leslie and Sean over for dinner : Leslie graduated UC Berkeley and knows a bunch of my childhood crew including Christian, who introduces us. She is now at Warners in corporate philanthropy and has a particular independent interest in Haiti where she visited before and following the January 2010 devastating earthquake.  Sean from Dublin, went to Trinity, earned his MBA, and founded a business before throwing it all away for Broadway (I have wanted to say that forever).  For 18 months Sean the lead in 'The 39 Steps', which won the Olivier Award for Best Comedy in 2007; We saw the play in London last year with "Uncle" Anthony.

  I mention how my Stanford undergrad application demanded one word to describe one's self and I picked "diligent" (Even now, 27 years later, I hear the Admissions Officer yawn).  We do an update and Sonnet goes with 'collaborative' , Sean  'philisophical' and I choose 'irreverant' : I conclude that every age has it's thing and middle-age about routine. The kids and family crave it. So, yes, that is us but not entirely : my mantra now and for some time is "don't be boring". And while I may not have the gonads to carry off a handle-bar mustache given my profession, I am proud of my long-hair at least. I also let my mother shine through : her sense of humor and speaking her mind serves me well.

After dinner we go to our local pub and interesting to see our neighbourhood through the eyes of others. What I see as grey, low build housing, they see as charming village.  Half empty-half full ? Mostly I don't see much of what is around us anymore. It is what it is.

Elm Grove defeats Carshalton Athletic in a rematch, 2-1. Earlier this year the boys lost 3-2 and both games equally exciting. Eitan's major contribution to knock clear a goal-line strike that slips by our goalie and otherwise a sure equaliser.  Coach remarks to me later that Eitan and Jack "the unsung heroes" of the squad.  This makes five wins in a row, adding 15 points to the league table, placing Elm Grove second in the Premiere Elite division of the Surrey Youth Division. Plenty of season to go yet.

Finish Line

Sonnet and I aware that the Grand Adventure half-way over. In eight years the kids will be off to university or wherever they may go. Sonnet plans their bedroom furniture around this possibility.  Me, I wonder what it would be like without the commotion.

Our closest friends remain, mostly, those we met upon first-arrival to London and, sadly, many have returned to the US or wherever as part of the natural course of life.  My childhood friends have grown up into what they are and no longer what I knew - so no easy returns for us, should we go.  At Diane's wedding last year I met an elderly fellow who opened Lehman Brother's European offices in Paris. He was called back to NYC after seven-years and remarked: "While being an expat highly seductive, I would have stayed forever, neither belonging here nor there." I think this sometimes now. Thank goodness the trauma of being, you know, homeless immigrants, behind us yet I wonder : where is home really?

Sonnet at a cocktail party at the Italian embassy with Gretchen, who will spend the night at 45. Eitan at a rock-climbing birthday party and Kamila on the town. Madeleine does the "worm" on the kitchen-floor and we dance to Capital FM.

Line Up

 Madeleine cheers Eitan's race then lines up for her own : she is anxious since A) the competition one-year older and B) she has never run a race before.  There are butterflies.

Each borough school allowed a squad of five-runners or maybe 100 competitors in total (Nb: while fewer than the boys, I am delighted to see the enthusiasm the girl's race receives). Madeleine joined the school running team this year : the group trains once a week in Sheen Common and Richmond Park, led by the fabulous Ms. S and Mr. K.

Madeleine bursts from the front line and immediately swallowed by the pack. I hope for a reserved beginning, having bonked five marathons myself, and wait for her to appear at the bend... the moments go by.  Rusty pulls on the lead. Sonnet fidgets. There is a good turn-out of spectators, enough to line the final  couple-hundred meters to the tape.  And there our girl is! And working hard, too : face flushed wearing an expression of discomfort , pain? as she stairs blankly forward. Madeleine not without focus though, no Sir, as she passes two runners on her way to 14th place, and second on the school team.

I make sure Madeleine moves about to rid the toxins from her body. She tells me : "I feel horrible" , and fair enough.  These kids have put their hearts into the effort

Dog Fight

Eitan and Trygvie go head-to-head, again, in the Richmond borough cross country championships on a cold autumnal day in Richmond Park. Trygvie gets his sporting excellence from mom, Karen, also the coach, who runs ultra races and competed in this year's Iron Man in Hawaii; she is a sponsored tri-athelete.  Eitan's got me : dog walker, occasional calisthenics.  The boys line up with 200 others and, bang!, off they go disappearing around a bend .  The 1.5 Km race begins at Pembroke Lodge and includes a pretty substantial hill before the runners return to view for the final 300-meters.  A cheer goes up as Trygvie appears in the lead with Eitan on his shoulder .. Eitan puts in a surge and ahead by a stride but Trygvie does not fold and replies with his own effort.  The boys go roaring by : I can see their breath and hear the exertion.  Trygvie pips Eitan at the end , but I think really a tie. Both boys are winners.

Mom: "You are going to have such so much fun at your race."
Eitan: "Mom it is about winning."

Floods

Floods : Madeleine's got 'em. She grows like the root of a tree, this kid.

There was always a child in my public grade school, sometimes me, sometimes Katie, whose trousers an inch or two above the ankle. Inevitably this kid had snot coming out of his/her nose, wiped along the arm of an already dirty long-sleeve shirt. Usually s/he ridiculed by his peers. The playground a brutal place , no doubt, but sometimes life lessons learned.

Thankfully this not our Madeleine who makes her 'floods' cool ('floods' BTW suggest highwaters and, though similar to capri pants, they differ in that they appear to be too short to be worn). Michael Jackson thought stylish, too, with his black leggings slyly exposing his white socks.  Both natural performers, our Madeleine and Michael, and last night Madeleine plays her trumpet in a jazz-band performance at some public school in Teddington (we get lost en route, even with sat nav, so I curse like an Officer which makes Madeleine  uncomfortable, poor child). Her tunes joyous and, though our gal nervous , I don't detect a hesitation once on stage. Sonny Rollins would smile.

Me: "School's on strike. .. "
Madeleine: "Whoopie!"
Me: "It is not a holiday, young lady. We are going to do some work."
Madeleine: "What?! That is so unfair!"
Me: "That is the way it is. I want a three-page book report from you."
Madeleine: "Three pages?!"
Me: "Yes. Single spaced, no pictures. And no large writing this time either. I want it done before Nicki comes over for a play date."
Madeleine: "But I was going to sleep in!"
Me: "Sleep in. Just make sure the report is done by noon. Or no play date."
Madeleine: "Nobody else is going to be writing some book report on a holiday."
Me: "Too bad for you. And it is a teacher's strike. Not a holiday."
Madeleine: "Whatever Dad.. You always have to ruin it."

Flur

I have one of those wonderfully awkward moments that only happens in an office when, in Paris, an assistant suggests that "there are some who don't like your long hair" ; "some" meaning the founder of the buyout firm I am with, of course. Being no dummy when money involved, I make an appointment with Sonnet's hair stylist 'Tim Williams Hair Design' in Barnes. Subsequently I find myself the sole male customer in an otherwise bustling salon. Tim, for his part, a wonderful character who conditions my hair then gives me tea and a few style magazines to read while he collaborates on a middle-age woman's hair colour: "Oh, honey, just go with what feels right" he coaxes.  Metro-sexual heaven, dude. Tim and I chat about this and that and the celebrities in the neighbourhood and house designs and so on and so forth. My glasses off and Tim notes (alarmingly ) "don't be alarmed, Dear, it is only a work of art."  

It is nearly December and autumnal as the wind blows the sidewalk's leaves , back lit by a low sky with hues mostly of grey and brown . I bicycle by the Thames with her tide 'out' and the riverbanks exposed and muddy. The Barnes Bridge delivers the underground which adds a splash of red and blue as the metro whizzes overhead.  It takes me back to my first winters in New York with the same urban bleakness : a friend I admire once told me that "a city becomes beautiful after 200 years" and, mostly, I agree with him.

'throw

Me, moments before strangling Eitan.

Madeleine and I walk Sonnet to the bus stop. At Cafe Nero: "It is so unfair that I can't have a treat."
Me: "Life is unfair. Let's do this. You ask me a question, anything at all, and I will see if I can answer it."
Madeleine: "Do we have to Dad?"
Me: "Give it a try."
Madeleine: "How did they know the world wasn't flat?"
Me: "That's excellent.  Let's see. People used to think the world flat and the sun and the moon circled around us. Kind of arrogant, don't you think?"
Madeleine:
Me: "When we are just one of a billion stars in the universe."
Madeleine: "That's pretty small, isn't it?"
Me: "We are smaller than a speck of dirt."
Madeleine: "Whoa."
Me: "Aristotle, anyways, over 2000 years ago, one of the first dudes to think the world is round.  To measure the curve, he knew that the sun directly overhead at the summer solstice, and so he was able to measure the angle of the shadow , which he did at Alexandria, which was about 1/50th of a circle, he estimated. Then he measured the distance Alexandria to Syene, another ancient city, and was able to use the two points, plus the angle, to determine the earth's circumference."
Madeleine: "Do you want to know three other ways?"
Me: "Of course."
Madeleine: "One. You can see the earth's shadow on the moon."
Me: "Excellent."
Madeleine: "Two. Ships disappear on the horizon and, if the world was flat, you would see them until they were a little dot."
Me: "Brilliant."
Madeleine: "And Christopher Columbus said so, too, when he sailed to America."
Me: "Good stuff, kiddo. Gold star."

Golden Balls

Elm Grove defeat Barnes Eagles for the second time in a month : this time, 2-1 , which sees a spirited opponent up for the match and playing good football. Eitan and Jack dominate the back-field and continue to be an effective defensive pair: Jack brings the powerful sweep while Eitan disrupts the forward attack with multiple cutting touches. Barnes a posh neighborhood ("cute", says Eitan) and , while their boys play hard, tackling, football, the sideline notably reserved. Compared to Elm Grove, that is. Ours, whose parents include a stewardess, cabbie, couple of brick layers and the like, vocal: "Get the ball in there, Lad! No, not like that! Talk to each other!!"

Me, I keep mostly quiet and let Eitan do his stuff. Everybody thinks I am a weirdo, anyway, since I go jogging then do yoga-stretches like the "half-moon" pose or the "triangle" which is particularly embarrassing to Eitan for some reason. Poor kid just wants to fit in.

"A people that values its privileges above its principles soon loses both."
--Eisenhower

"'Cause it's a bitter sweet sympthony, this life."

--The Verve

Tooting

We meet friends in south London for an Indian experience. Tooting an urban area, dense, without trees nor greenery and snarling traffic inching down the High Street.  The shops mostly down-scale with "All For A Pound", Halal butchers, Vetec Electronics and etc and so on. Our friends delayed by a motorcycle accident which the ambulance cannot reach because of the two-lane two-way.

This might be a cool place to live with the right attitude : ethnic and vibrant : I see joggers pass elderly women in hajib. There are plenty of restaurants while the Undergound zips young professionals straight to the City.

I chat with Ms. Munawar of "Punjab Sweets & Restaurant" who tells me she and her husband bake everything behind the counter.  She is proud of her family business and I can only imagine how she got here.  There are a number of other staff with the women dressed in Sari and heads wrapped, faces partially covered, while the men in trainers, sloppy and casually uncaring while they really do. None of them speak passing English. At the back of the restaurant a mobile phone shop being installed. Not an inch to waste.

Madeleine: "Have you ever held a chinchilla?"
Me:
Madeleine: "You aren't taking me seriously, are you Dad?"
Me: "It's just that nobody has ever asked me that before."
Madeleine: "They are the size of a football. And cuddly."
Me: "Good to know."
Madeleine: "So can we get one?"
Me: "Talk to your mother."
Sonnet: "Oh, no, don't you dare."
Madeleine: "If Dad says it's Ok, can we get one?"
Sonnet: "We are not getting a chinchilla."
Me: "Let's get a goat!""
Madeleine: "Yes! Really?"
Sonnet: "Your Dad is winding you up, Madeleine."
Madeleine: "So a chinchilla is Ok then?"
Sonnet: "We are not getting a chinchilla. We are not getting a goat."
Me: "I was on your side, too, kid. "
Madeleine: "It is so unfair."

Madeleine Breakfasts

Madeleine and I take Rusty to the dog-pond in Richmond Park where the pooch frolics with other dogs and generally wares himself out. I meet a heavy-set dude in a hunting jacket with a fancy camera and we talk about photography for a while then private equity as he is a lawyer at a known firm in the City. These walks with Madeleine allow our unpressured together. Sometimes, like this morning, the subject of sex comes up and she wants none of it from Dad. I tell her that I would rather the uncomfortable conversation now than her unprepared later.

Madeleine: "How many comics do you have?"
Me: "I don't know, maybe 500 or something. Why?"
Madeleine: "Do you like them?"
Me: "Yeah. When I was a kid I would  walk across campus to Comics And Comix on Telegraph and spend an hour leafing through the boxes, looking for that one missing copy of Spider Man or the Hulk from my collection. Then I would go to Blondie's for a slice and a coke."
Madeleine: "Are they worth any money?"
Me: "I suppose they're worth something. All for you one day, Kid."
Madeleine: "How much?"
Me: "I don't know. Maybe $1000. Could be more."
Madeleine: "Wo-o-oa. You are rich."
Me: "I don't think 1000 bucks makes you rich these days."
Madeleine: "It does if you are me. I have, like, £100."
Me: "That's not so bad."
Madeleine: "I'm totally broke."
Me: "You're a kid."
Madeleine: "You owe me my allowance."
Me: "Oh?"
Madeleine: "For three weeks."
Me: "Noted."

Going Stag

I had two bachelor parties : one in New York, when a bunch of MBAs took me to Peter Lugers in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, followed by a strip joint. From there things went downhill fast ending at Times Square at dawn with no money to get home.

My second stag (pictured, with Joe Montana) in San Francisco with a different group and notable for many reasons including the bowling ball Roger chained to my leg and I threatened to roll down Nob Hill, making Roger more than anxious. Just like college. Just like now. Sam also with us and the only one to, you know, actually talk to some pretty girls. Just like high school. Just like now.

As ever, the evening ended with "entertainment" and ours at the Mitchell Brothers O'Farrell Theatre in the Tenderloin district. Wiki states "O'Farrell the oldest and most notorious adult-entertainment establishment in the country" and Hunter S. Thompson adds: it is "the Carnegie Hall of public sex in America". Famous alum include John Holmes (porn star), Marlyn Chambers (porn star), Megan Leigh (porn star), Fallon (porn star), Annette Haven (porn star), Nina Hartley (porn star) and Erica Boyer (porn star). And so on and so forth.

Yes, I have been to worse. Like my friend S who had candle-wax melted on his scrotum by a prostitute.  Or the "performer" who was lactating. Why do otherwise sensible young men do this sort of thing, which,  inevitably,  leads to self-loathing or worse given the Internets? Sure, alcohol fuels the frenzy. Male bonding another. But mostly it is one last chance, perhaps missed or never in college, to play the ass. And really go for it.

The Brits do it better than most, too, given their propensity to drink like fish. They are also a bit smarter about it - for instance, they leave the UK . Why take the chance of being spotted comatose at some brothel in Shepherd Market? Prague has become the #1 stag location in Europe followed by Riga then Budapest, according to stagforyou.com, which is happy to set up everything for the lads.  Hen parties have , more recently, become equally popular.  

Me, I haven't been to a bachelor party since '96 and it is not something that I miss. Entirely.