Gucci, Baby

Sonnet returns, 12 Midnight, from Como, where she delivers the closing presentation for the RATTI Foundation's conference.  She speaks about how to display textiles within a fashion exhibition. Before that, she is at Milan fashion week and sees shows by Gucci, pictured. She is there with her new assistant, Lucia, who Sonnet hired for "La Moda". Lucia is a local, and smooths along the operations including organising top level meetings with archives, university profs and influencing agents.  She tells me: "it was a very attractive crowd and the heels were vertiginous." (Photo by Sonnet)

Madeleine and I hang out on her bed talking for 1.5 hours (I know the time because Madeleine says "Gee, Dad, we've been talking for 1.5 hours").  She has a lot on her mind, this kid, and I have to adjust myself : Madeleine is a little person and no longer a child (which she has not been for some time).

The girls at Emanual (Madeleine now tells me) are in to Hollister, Gillian Hicks and Abercrombie & Fitch and "£84 purple leather bags", which Madeleine rejects. I wonder if this effects her friendships ? but she seems to be doing fine : no steadfast goofs like Marcus or Alex, but this will come.

Me: "What do you want now?"
Rusty: "Woof, woof, woof!"
Me: "There you go, let  me get you some breakfast."
Rusty: "Woof! Woof! Woof!"
Me: "Ok, Ok, I'll get the lead."

Taxi, Sir?

Madeleine and I to school.

I talk to James, a black cab driver, about "The Knowledge", which every driver must posses before receiving a taxi license.  It is by far the world's most demanding taxi training course requiring at least twelve 'appearances' (attempts at the final test), after preparation, which can take up to five years.  James took two years to complete his examination but "I was doing it full time", he tells me. The Knowledge based on learning 320 routes (or "runs") which help the driver learn the 25,000 streets and 20,000 landmarks and places of interest in the six mile radius of Charing Cross. Once licensed, the taxi can work anywhere in the Greater London area.  Taxi drivers have 3% more brain mass than the general public, according to taxi drivers.

James works the night-shift,  6PM until 4AM, which gives him more and better fares : after 8PM, rates increase 50%; after 10PM it's double until 6AM. Cabbies make a good living, too :  £70 grand on average or twice London's per capita.  James tells me of a friend who sold his house to train up for the license.

It works, too : I have never, ever, met a taxi driver unable to identify the most obscure London street.

So 80s

Since I am tripping nostalgic on '80s music , I continue this thread with a long old favourite, Morris Day and The Time, with its seminal '82 hit "777-9311".  This was a top choice from my vinyl collection.

After Prince hit the music scene in the early ‘80’s (the black girls at West Campus introduced us to "Controversy" in '81), he brought along an entourage that was part of the Minneapolis music scene. The Time was the first of several , which also included Sheena Easton.  I took these bands to college with me, dancing to their beats at Brown's Funk Night or Manhattan's Palladium.

The Time, led by the bold, outrageous and flamboyant swagger of lead singer Morris Day, had a funk/rock/dance sound with hard-driving guitar riffs, heavy bass lines, and toe-tapping drums. It was an all freak '80s competition with Rick James whose songs included “Super Freak” and “Give it to Me Baby”, which titillated me and my teen-age peer set. It also led the way for other genre-busting black artists like The Bus Boys and Run-D.M.C.  Not only was The Time blurring and blending music styles, but, like Prince, was making music that had no black or white label or specific audience.

"777-9311

I wanna spend the night with you if that's alright"

--Morris Day and The Time, the second track and lead single from The Time's second album, What Time Is It?

Coltrane And Prison

John Coltrane (who I listen to now) pioneered the use of different modes in jazz and, later, he was at the forefront of the free jazz movement of the '50s and '60s.

I try to get the Shakespeares to listen to Red Garland, Miles Davis and Coltrane but they don't get it, going for Capital FM with its same awful interchangeable screeching songs: Rihanna could be Nicki Minaj who is Katy Perry or Jesse J. It is all crap but, then, this is what my parents must have thought when Sheena E belted out "Come inside my sugar walls" in '84. Ghastly, but I loved it.

I take Madeleine to school on the No. 337 bus, upper deck, front row, staring into the glorious morning sunshine since it is 7:15AM. Madeleine and I practise spelling words from flip-cards, she reads some "Little House On The Prairie" and becomes concerned about the traffic in Wandsworth : tardiness merits a "signature", and she shows me her green-card which, so far, has 12 or 13 "accommodations" for good behaviour and no signatures. Madeleine proving herself to be a striver.

Me: "Don't worry, there are other Emanuel kids on the bus."
Madeleine: "If you get thirty 'signatures,' you are kicked out of school."
Me: "That is so harsh."
Madeleine: "If you get twenty, then you are expelled."
Me: "What happens then?"
Madeleine: "You have to stay in your room. And can only leave to go to the toilet and stuff."
Me: "Sounds like prison."
Madeleine: "It is worse. Plus you have to see the Head Master."

Sonnet And Rusty

Rusty nabs a treat.

I pick up Eitan from his first school field trip, an overnight to Avon Tyrrel, where the boys do team building exercises like building a raft, climbing structures, communication games - usual stuff. Eitan tells me it worked : "I now know everybody in my form."  In MBA school I had to do similar things usually with alcohol involved.

Eitan: "Rusty. Rusty. Rusty!"
Me: "What?"
Eitan: "He's digging into his balls."

Conference Party

Firing us all up, the cover-promo of the "Renewable Energy Forum 2012" notes : "Identifying value in a rapidly growing asset class."

Sonnet in Milano this week for fashion week and to speak at a conference. She prepares for her 2014 exhibition "La Moda" and so meets lots of fashionistas from academia to aziendale. It's not all shirt skirts and ballgowns.

I wake Madeleine at 6AM (her request) since I run with Andrew. Our gal bravely nods "awake" then  sleeps for a half-hour.   Madeleine has a spelling quiz each week covering 15 pre-decided words. Missing two gets the dreaded "signature", which makes me think (for some reason) of the red light on my phone at First Boston : whenever blinking, some message, usually meaning more work or calamity. Stress.  Madeleine nailed 15 of 15 last week.

"A panel of LPs give their impressions of the current marketplace for renewable energy investment, where they see the value and risks unique to a renewable energy asset and the role of the investment in a wider infrastructure portfolio."
--Renewable Energy Forum 2012 (where I won't be going)

Footsie

Madeleine is 6.5 adults (green laces) and bigger than Sonnet's foot by a size. Go figure.

Madeleine: "At school, I was in the changing room with the year-nines, and a girl said  'OMG Those are clown's feet!' " 
Me: "And how did that make you feel?"
Madeleine: "Not amazing."  
Me: "I bet. What happened next?"
Madeleine: "Once the girl realised they were mine, she apologised. I told her 'it happens a lot.' "
Me: "You are going to be six foot tall kid."
Madeleine: "Six foot tall. Okay, Dad."
Me: "Just you wait and see."

Fast Food, American Style

Here is what we have for lunch in Delaware (Mind you, I am with a Parisian).

The remarkable thing about US cities, forgotten or unnoticed by Americans, is the homogeneity : Wilmington looks like Austin which looks like Denver which is like Columbus and so on and so forth. Outside of a few Big Cities (and there is an argument that NY or LA are not American but international megalopolises) each has the same nondescript modern skyline, eight or so tall buildings concentrated around each other, highways in and out .. an aiport. Inside one finds a museum, Radisson or Four Seasons, maybe a zoo and, of course, fast food including the Boston Market.

I choose Boston Market (formerly known as Boston Chicken) as I think it our healthiest option for a quick lunch.  I can barely understand the cashier who offers "getasaladandsouplunchcomboforonly4ninetyfive" Huh? My chicken Caesar sandwich something special and I let it be after several bites knowing it could still be there, waiting for me, in two years time.  (Thierry goes for BBQ, pictured)  It is unclear if my credibility enhanced introducing him to the modern American concept of replication/ commoditisation or falls given, well , the food.

In 2007, Boston Market (initials appropriate BTW) had over 600 restaurants in 28 states (last public filing).  No doubt there are more today.

Soda Fountain

From New York to New Haven to Delaware, Philadelphia and finally home - in this case, Berkeley - where I have dinner with Moe and Grace and here we are for breakfast at Saul's.  My parents celebrate their 50th anniversary in December.

Madeleine sits in front of her computer making a list and scratching off names.
Madeleine: "We definitely don't want a musk turtle."
Me: "hmm?"
Madeleine: "Because they are buried in the mud all day and they stink."
Me:
Madeleine: "They're also called a stink pot."

Madeleine: "I just thought of a great name for Rusty."
Me: "Oh?"
Madeleine: "Jimmy."
Me: "Jimmy?"
Madeleine: "I just thought of it. I don't know why."

New Day, New York

Thierry and I stay at the NY Palace Hotel on 50th between Madison and Park Ave (disconcertingly I can see my first offices on the 39th floor of Park Avenue Plaza). My room faces east with Queens and Long Island in the distance; the center tower is the old GE Building (570 Lexington) which is Manhattan's 64th tallest at 50 floors and built in 1931. It was bought by Columbia Business School for administrative offices but I don't think there are too many MBAs working there - though I see people shuffling about at this early hour (so clear, I can see the windows are open).  The Waldorf's twin peaks (47 floors) to the right.

We have a bunch of useful meetings : Guardian Life, Columbia, Dupont , others - and while all are welcoming, some more so than others.  Yale's endowment staffed by three Bulldogs who are direct and  serious despite one guy (class of .. '07) in a Patagonia sweatshirt which is a mis-match to my Hermes tie. When I joke the entrance sign states "no solicitations" we get barely a chuckle.

Me: "Madeleine, guess where I am?"
Madeleine: "New York?"
Me: "I'm on the 48th floor of my hotel!"
Madeleine: "Whoa."
Me: "What do you think of that?"
Madeleine: "Do you have to take the stairs?"

New York Minute

Katie has a perm

Katie and Bill, Katie's college thesis adviser with who she studied Dante, Shakespeare, Don Quixote and Little Red Riding Hood, in the late 1980s. So Wang Chung. Katie and I have dinner on Sullivan St at W Houston which is a trendy part of town not far from my sister's offices (I am saddened to see my favourite go-to diner from '89-90, 'Aggies', is gone). We are joined by Mike, who is lending Katie some advise on ways to invest her founder's richesse which makes sense given Katie's purse stuffed with checks for $37 grand.

Thierry and I to New Haven to visit Yale (all the endowment guys like way casual with the youngest in some logo'd polo shirt. I like).  From there, another meeting in Manhattan and tomorrow, California.

It is the 11th anniversary of 9 11 and small ceremonies mark the event on the local news; otherwise I am oblivious to the observances which do not reach Midtown. The Freedom Tower nears completion and dominates the down-town financial district. Two beams of evening light suggest the World Trade Center which is but a solemn memory.

Murray Wins

Andy Murray wins the US Open becoming the first British winner of a Grand Slam since .. 1936 (Murray a Scott). Thus caps a remarkable summer of British sport from Wimbledon to Chelsea, the Tour de France (won by Brit Wiggins), Elm Grove and the Olympics. Photo NYT.

It all makes sense somehow that Murray wins New York, too : everything bigger here, where I am now, for several days (Katie and I have dinner with Thierry). For instance : The larger-than-life bellhop (with moustache) at the NY Palace tells me, as I wait for our car, that for 15 years he has greeted some guy on his way to work .. . who turns out to be a producer for the Today program who invites him on the show for his good cheer. He has now done Letterman, Leno and other late night shows as the "happy guy." Of course he does. Just like Murray - it is all center stage, dude.

Still Groov'n

After all these years.

A Trip And A Turtle

Sonnet takes Eitan and Madeleine to Eitan's match against Elm Grove. I prepare for the US.

Madeleine: "Dad if you get a special pet passport can you bring a turtle back?"
Me:
Madeleine:  "I've heard it is so much cheaper to buy a turtle in New York."

Mazel Tov

Ben celebrates his Bar Mitzvah in Beliize Park, London. 

We have not raised Eitan or Madeleine with religion nor will they perform the Bar Mitzvah and Bat Mitzvah ceremonies to mark their transition from childhood to adulthood (though they may choose to do so later of course).  Instead, the kids dedicate themselves to sports and drama and other city-suburban activities.  This is the way it was for me, this is the way it is for them. We do not belong to a Synagogue nor are we a part of the London Jewish community (mostly located in North London with its spiritual and physical center Golders Green).  It is an easy gift, religion, and, at Ben's services, I consider, not for the first time, that I have missed out on something easy, something good.

Madeleine: "Dad can we get a turtle?"
Me: "Not this again."
Madeleine: "They don't eat mice or crickets or anything. Plus they like water."
Me: "Yes?"
Madeleine: "Water, Dad, so they don't smell."
Me: "Can we get one and put it in the pond?"
Madeleine: "No. There are fish in there already and it might  not get along with the frog."
Me: "Madeleine, we have Rusty. We are not going to get a turtle."
Madeleine: "So does that mean I can't have one now?"
Me: "Yes."
Madeleine: "How about Christmas?"

Daily News

I snap this fellow on the afternoon train heading into town.

Friday evening and we sit around the table eating hamburgers and re-capping the week highlighted by new schools. Madeleine's favourite class, so far, is drama while Eitan likes Latin and chemistry.  Sonnet with the British Film Institute (BFI) to arrange an Italian film festival to coincide with her exhibition La Moda set for 2014.

Eitan: "Look at all the things you have to look out for in Chemistry [Eitan reads from his chemistry book]: harmful or irritant, flammable, biological hazard (biohazard), radioactive, corrosive, toxic, explosive and oxidising.. . ."
Me: "Sounds like a good class."
Eitan: "Apparently the teacher is a bit crazy.  Once he tried to shoot something across the room and it hit the lamp and it crashed."
Me: "The lamp blew up?"
Eitan: "Yeah. It exploded."
Me: "Did he get expelled or something?"
Eitan: "Our chemistry teacher?"
Me: "Yeah."
Eitan: "No. He's still at our school.  Teaching."

We drive to football practise with Joe.
Me: "So what do you boys do on the school bus?"
Eitan: "I don't know. Sit there."
Me: "You don't do homework or something?"
Joe: "The older boys are on the top of the bus. Towards the back. With the girls"
Me: "Do you guys sit with any girls?"
Eitan:  "Dad!"
Joe: "No, we don't really sit near them."
Me: "Where do the nerds sit?"
Joe: "What's a nerd?"
Me: "If you have to ask, it's probably you."
Eitan: "Joe is not a nerd, Dad."
Me: "It's not like an insult or anything. They just sit by themselves... "
Eitan, Joe:
Me: ".. . trying to avoid the spit balls."

Paralympics 2012

Richard Whitehead of Team GB wins gold in the Men's 200-meter T42 Final on day 3 of the London 2012 Paralympic Games (Michael Steele/Getty Images).  The athletes magnificent.

The one time everybody together, like most days now it seems, 7AM for breakfast. I run at 6AM and note the sunrise, which means soon it will be dark at this hour. Madeleine (decidedly not a morning person) downstairs at 6:30AM and Eitan a few moments after. We sit around the kitchen as Sonnet prepares breakfast, frets over an upcoming dinner party, tidies up and makes sure homework and etc. in the right place. She prepares a list for au pair Aneta. Rusty scratches the conservatory door with urgency as two doves scope the backyard - once open, he bolts, yap! yap! yap! (Sonnet: "The neighbours!).

Packing

Madeleine's backpack filled with 16 books and is as heavy as a rock with which, she notes, "I have to walk up four flights of stairs."

Madeleine: "Do you know socks?"
Me: "Hmm?"
Madeleine: "They are like the least important part of the PE kit."
Me:
Madeleine: "And if you forget your socks you get a signature."
Me: "That is so harsh! What is a 'signature'?"
Madeleine: "I know! If you get three signatures you get detention."
Me: "Whoa. Good thing Alex isn't in your class."
Madeleine: "I know. Or Nathaniel.  And guess what - I have four accomodations already. Today I got one for helping the teacher get paper and pens."
Me: "That's great. And what does an 'accomodation' mean?"
Madeleine: "Five accomodations is a treat. Ten you see the head of the year. And 20, the head of the school."
Me: "I can see you are really going for it."
Madeleine: "Yeah."

Italians Are Mad

One more from Italy. Marco (purple shirt) crazy, just like everybody else I meet here. It is a wonderful spirit and how different from anywhere else. I could live in Italy no problemo.

Off To The Races

And another sprogue to middle-school. Eitan, up at dawn, readies himself, ties his tie and straightens his jacket.  His back-pack neatly arranged at the front door, pencils counted and necessary forms double-confirmed.  The only thing missing is a shiny red apple.  Sonnet has a wistful look in her eye - proud, yet knowing, in the way that all mothers do : a marathon no longer a marathon once the first steps taken.

Me: "Ready for school?"
Eitan: "Yeah, I guess so."
Me: "Nervous about anything?"
Eitan: "Nah, not really.  Mom how long until we have to go?"
Me: "What are you looking forward to?"
Eitan: "Football try-outs. Meeting the other kids in my form. Mom!"
Me: "I remember the first day of seventh grade.  It was hot and I walked by myself to King Jr High. We got out early and I mowed the lawn when I got home."
Ein: "Bye Dad."
Me: "I was exactly your age now.
Eitn. "See you tonight Dad."
Me: