Una Vez Más

The boy at 13. I could not be more proud of him.

The Malaga airport is absurd : recently built and modern, size of a military hanger, too big for retail and barely half a day of flights mostly from the low cost airlines.  This is where Spain spent its borrowings. Following a week of extraordinary food we break down and hit Burger King (which is worth the price just to hear the Spanish cashier pronounce 'whopper')

Puente Viejo

The Old Bridge

We visit Ronda where Ernest Hemingway and Orson Welles spent many summers in the old town quarter "La Ciudad." Hemingway famously loved the bull-fighting machismo. Eitan and I check out the Old Bridge which was built from 1751 to 1793 and is 120 metres above the canyon floor.

The Guadavalin  River runs through the city, dividing it in two and carving out the steep, 100 plus meters deep El Tajo canyon upon which the city perches. Eitan and I scale the mountain wall then go for a five mile run alongside the river. Magic.

Eitan: "That's not very funny, Dad."

Me:

Eitan: "You like to laugh at your own jokes, don't you?"

Me: "Sometimes I laugh because you don't get my jokes."

Eitan:

Me: "Or because they make you laugh. Or because I find them funny."

Eitan:

Me: "Aren't you happy that I laugh all the time?"

Eitan gives me a weird look.

Pablo

Picasso Museum

Eitan hates my stretching which I often do from the sidelines of the football pitch or some other equally humiliating place. The airport, for instance.  At least now he rolls with it.

Me: "I haven't had a bath in two days."
Eitan: "That's nothing."

Alora

Day 1 finds us on a train, 8AM, to Alora, a typical pueblo blanco, a whitewashed village nestled between three rocky spurs topped by the ruins of a castle built by the Phoenicians. The train station empty accept for a lonely cafe where the proprietor informs us, using gestures: go up.

A zig zagging trail leads us up the hillside and there is Alora which looks like a favela and Eitan and I wonder: What the hell? Once inside the village, however, we find a hustle-bustle and sparkly shine - the town center filled with the well-dressed elderly people and the young, presumably unemployed, what do they do? one must wonder.  And orange trees filled with fruit.

Our random walk takes us to an olive grove underneath a serious mountain topped with a cross that overlooks  us and the valley beneath.

We return to the station for a perfect tray of anchovies, cured meats and coffee. A table of men play cards.

Español

Airborne 

The boy and I arrive in Malaga for a week of bonding and goofing.   Here, Eitan says, "We treck up to the rooftop pool and shiver, there, before we are brave enough to jump in." [Dad's note: the hotel pool is unheated] "I get shivers for the rest of the night."

From there we search for tapas, found in abundance.  I have a plate of fried sardines while Eitan devours the local salamies.  Our discussion covers college, clothes and jobs.

Gatwick

Eitan and I off to Spain. He is a nice accoutrement, better than any pair of trainers, really.  A fabulous kid.

Pre Game

Eitan prepares for Kew Association, which the Lions win 2-1 (Eitan scores the first goal on a PK).  The match notable for the sidelines referee who clearly cheats on the off-side calls and is over-ruled by the on-field ref on the final, decisive goal.  The sidelines in an uproar.

Madeleine: "There are several kids in my year who are 'going out.' "
Sonnet: "Oh?"
Madeleine: "What does that mean, anyway, 'going out' ? Are they going to Nando's or something ? [Dad's note: Nando's is a chicken chain in the UK]
Sonnet: "Yes, maybe."
Madeleine: "It's not like they have anything to talk about that they can't say at school."
Sonnet: "Maybe that's not the point."
Madeleine: "Yeah, I guess."

Rusty & Aneta

BFF

Sonnet submits the final edits to her book, Italian Fashion, which will accompany her exhibition and, voilà, there is a palpable sense of relief ( for all of us, really). Now she has to make labels for the show's 300 items.

Eitan tunes me on to "Made In Chelsea" about a bunch of post-college rich twats who date and gossip and partner swap, always looking fabulous - such posh accents! - and working their parents' trust fund. At least in Melrose Place the characters, like, worked.

Madeleine wanders into the living room as Sonnet and I watch "Mad Men."
Madeleine: "That man looks just like you."
Me: "You mean the old guy with white hair?"
Madeleine: "No, the other one." [Dad's note: Madeleine indicates Don Draper]
Me: "Well that is about the nicest complement I've received in a long time."

SAP

Zap

I am at a fancy dinner arranged by SAP and find myself in a champagne room filled in Mayfair with middle-aged dudes from the back-office operations of their various impressive large firms. [Dad's note: SAP is the world leader in the market of enterprise applications for software and software-related services].

I do a lap, panic, and head for the door where a friendly SAP Vice President offers to introduce me to the President. It is clear that I have nothing to contribute to the SAP conversation, nor is this fellow going to sell me some enterprise software. I make my excuses and split before the appetiser.

London moves into the Xmas zone and Christmas carollers sing at Green Park.  Oxford and Regent Sts draped in light and the shop windows polished, open for business - extended hours.  The kids term ends Friday.

Gal Play

Madeleine and Molly see the latest 'Hunger Games' installation followed by a sleep-over.  I drive Madeleine nuts by referring to Katniss as 'catnip' on three or four occassions.  I can't help myself, really.

A water pipe bursts under the front-yard concrete five weeks after I take on plumbing and drainage insurance and one week after it is 'active'.  The premium: £1 per month so this may be the best investment I have ever made. In fact, no doubt about it.

Rake Work

20 bags

I spend the day in the backyard. Once, against their wills, the kids helped but no more : they are too busy with sport, homework, social ..  rest.  Moe and Grace cut me and Katie a break from chores at about this age so I get it. 

Eitan wanders into kitchen to find snack.

Me: "What do you think about Nelson Mandela's death?"

Eitan: "I'm not that upset I guess."

Me: "Do you know what Mandela was famous for?"

Eitan: "He was President."

Me: "Of what?"

Eitan: "Africa."

Me: "Not all of Africa. What part?"

Eitan: "South Africa."

Me: "What else do you know about him?"

Eitan: "He fought for his rights."

Me: "Everyone's rights. Blacks and all people."

Eitan exits kitchen, no snack.

Madeleine: "You know how I'm making that thing for you at school for Christmas that you are not supposed to know about ?"
Me: "Ummm . ."
Madeleine: "Well our teacher used it as an example and dropped in acid." [Dad's note: Madeleine makes things in her 'design technology' class]
Me:
Madeleine: "It took the whole class to get it out."
Me: "Sounds promising."
Madeleine: "I was really upset, Dad. Everybody was watching."
Me: "I bet."
Madeleine: "But the teacher was able to finally get it."
Me: "I can't wait for Christmas."

"I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear."

--Nelson Mandela

And She Was

Me: "Do you think Rusty prefers breakfast or dinner ?"
Madeleine:
Me: "These are important questions."

Madeleine: "But, Dad , I have to do my homework."
Me: "Too bad. Dishes."
Madeleine: "But it's math!"
I help Madeleine do the dishes; afterwards she jumps on her macbook.
Me: "I thought you had homework."
Madeleine: "I do."
Me: "And?"
Madeleine: "It's not due tomorrow."

Final Bend

Final photo

Madeleine's recent instructions on how to feed Erik and Nelson (the turtles):
"Turn light for turtles on and off in morning and night.
Feed them either shrimp or blood worms.
Blood worms go in a small box, ie, the yellow box on counter.
Take turtles and put them in box.
Put them back in tank when done.
Blood worms are in BIG freezer.
Feed every day."

Seems reasonable. I am sure that I will be doing this long after Madeleine has flown the coop.

Outside Lane

Poolside pre race

Sunday morning, 6:30 AM, Madeleine and I up for the Haslemere gala in deepest Surrey. We pick up Zara and Sonnet calls Zara's mom beforehand to make sure they are awake (their request). I watch Madeleine crank out the 200m freestyle (2:55) and 50m crawl (35.15).

Eitan chooses football over swimming (though signed up for Haslemere) and the Sheen Lions take on the CB Hounslow United Blues on the home pitch on a beautiful cold day. Sonnet reports "thrilling" as the Lions up 1-nil then down 2-1 in the late second half. Eitan takes a corner which bounces off the defence giving him a second shot, which he puts into the net with a wedge shot "that drops" (he says). The Lions go on to win, 3-2, putting them in a 5-way time for 2nd place in the Premiere division.

Sonnet to Rome for the exhibition.

Swim Swum Swam

We and Aneta spend our Saturday afternoon and evening at the Rainbow Center in Epson cheering Eitan and Madeleine as they swim the 1500 and 800, respectively, a first time for each.  Sonnet and I assist with the timing and lap counting and Aneta is the stroke judge (which I tell her she can use in her next job application).

Eitan up first and delivers a 19:05 which is pretty darn good for a first go and considering he ran a cross country race plus football practice this morning.  Madeleine's experience marred by some slipped goggles and she does equally brilliantly.  The after-action report from Eitan: "boring". Fair enough. I recall the 1500 as a wall of pain until the two-thirds point when the race switches gears to agony.

Tomorrow morning we are up before dawn for .. another swimming gala, this time to qualify for The Regionals not already attained.

The Clash

Paul Simonon taken by Pennie Smith

"Recorded in 1979 in London, which was then wrenched by surging unemployment and drug addiction, and released in America in January 1980, the dawn of an uncertain decade, London Calling is 19 songs of apocalypse, fueled by an unbending faith in rock and roll to beat back the darkness."
--Rolling Stone

362

Eitan competes the Borough CC championships so Aneta, Rusty and I head for Pembroke Lodge in the centre of Richmond Park to catch the action.  The Hampton bus arrives and the boys fall out to begin their pre-race preparations; Eitan does his very best to ignore us (hard to do when Dad places himself in front of 300 runners to take action photos and the dog barks likes a maniac).

This year the year-8s and 9s combined and the distance doubles to two loops of the familiar course or about 3km.  Eitan off with a bang! and, half-way, in the leaders-group seeming in control and relaxed. When the boys round the final bend for the home straight, puffing and steaming, Eitan in a comfortable fourth place which he holds to the finish. His place qualifies him for the county champs in 2014.  From there (top 5) it's the British Nationals.

Me: "Are you happy with  your performance?"
Eitan: "Yeah, it was alright."

A Date

Cool cat

Madeleine and I plan a movie and dinner for Thursday, something we both look forward to from Monday morning.  I clear out my meetings and pick her up from school, meeting at Clapham Junction station.  I watch her for a few moments before she spots me, and my heart swells : this is a special kid.

Our movie btw is 'Gravity' and Madeleine grabs my hand for most of the tense bits while I munch on (a giant box of) popcorn. A best night of many.

Buckle Up

Madeleine: "What do you want for Christmas?"
Me: "I don't really know. The best gift you ever gave me was the scarf."
Madeleine: "Yeah."
Me: "When I go to the grave, I want that scarf on my chest, arms crossed over it.. ."
Madeleine: "I thought you wanted to be burned?"
Me: "Good point. Would you let me take it with me?"
Madeleine: "Can we change the conversation?"
Me: "Sure. What do you want for Christmas ?"
Madeleine: "An iPad mini. Mom and I are going to Westfields. Are you sure you don't know what you want?"
Me: "How about some silk pants."
Madeleine: "I am not buying you silk pants Dad."
Me: "Silk pants with frilly lace on the sides. You can get me two pairs."
Madeleine:
Me:
Madeleine: "It's not that funny, Dad."

Self Portrait XXXIII

Platform 1

To get to Mayfair, where most of my dates occur, I catch an overline train to Waterloo then two stops on the underground (or sometimes I walk, enjoying the river and St James's park).  Waterloo is a major hub for the suburbs though nothing like Grand Central Station, NY, surrounded by Manhattan, forcing trains underground before the terminus. No, Waterloo never as urban nor grand but it does function efficiently whisking along blue and white collars, including me, across town.

Madeleine pulls a "1" (top-marks) in PE this term as she goes from a 9.9 to 11 on the standardised fitness test, though I don't know the scale. The school average, Ms W informs us, is a 3.  She beats all the boys in her form and some of the year 9s.  She gets her athleticism from climbing trees.