Yo G

g

Wimbledon has started and that can only mean one thing: Rain. In fact this has been one of the worst summers I can remember, wet dreary weather day in, day out. As I tell my friends: "We choose to live here."

Sonnet and I find ourselves without kids. Madeleine with boyfriend Ben (nice kid, firm handshake) and Eitan to a party. We go to yoga, followed by dinner in front of the TV, dog at our feet. Red wine rolls me into bed. Pretty much perfect Friday evening.

Eitan is now 6 foot even and Madeleine 5-6.  The boy never really stops eating, or relaxing, when he is in the house. Growing is hard work.

Madeleine returns from a track meet running a 2:25 for the 800, same time last three outings at this distance. She craves improvement.

We text:
Madeleine: Yo g can you send me the 24 you owe me from the weekend g?
Me: Done g
Madeleine: Thanks g
Me: You bet g

Anchorage Reunion

Laura and Heather doing a tour of Europe as Curtis (Heather's husband) concludes a sanskrit conference in Oslo. Curtis, who received a free-ride Harvard PhD on the subject, is a professor at Univ of Virginia and at the very top of his niche field of Hinduism, Buddhism and Jainism study. He tells me the conference was a real geek fest. I bet. Curtis made his name discovering a 12h Century Hindu poet who had been lost across the ages and languages.

Curtis and I discuss the Buddhist caves of Beziklik, which Sonnet and I visited in '97, in Central Asia on the northern edge of the Taklakan Desert.

Laura and Heather, meanwhile, grew up with Sonnet in Alaska as teenagers. Their father an IBM salesmen who was stationed in Anchorage for six years before returning to the Lower 48. They attended the alternative secondary school, Steller High, which attracted the eccentrically smart or oddly misplaced (school tagline: "based on the philosophy of responsible freedom, personal initiative, and individualized education").

Today Laura is a primary grade teacher at Manhattan County School on 85th and Columbus, across the street from my 2nd NYC apartment. The school founded in 1966 during the Civil Rights era as an independent progressive school with equality, social justice, and diverse community and from the inspiration of Martin Luther King, Jr. It all fits together.

On Record

West Hamstead

We meet Lisa who may help Eitan and Madeleine with US college applications. The stats are daunting : for the non-financial aid white-applicant the % of the accepted pool is 40% which means less than 2% overall for Harvard and Stanford. Further, the application process way more complex than my day. And we are doing it from the UK with different deadlines and academic datas. In short, we are driving blind.

Lisa rachets the sales pitch informing that "you are now on record" since Eitan has made his GCSE choices. On record ? Like permanent record ? Sonnet turns white.

Lisa rattles off GCSEs, As, SATs, ACTs, extra curicular activities and essays; selection (2,472 universities) , donations etc etc.  The process a full time job requiring a network with the schools, coaches, alumni and local mums also sending their little dears to the USA for information share, gossips and support.

So Lisa , should we go with her, will take "the conversation off the dinner table" as our friend Tony, who recommends her, informs me (Both his girls went to Univ of Pennsylvania). In return we give her a bunch of money.

Afterwards we have dinner at Pizza East at the Golborne and Portobello Road (Trellick tower in background) for a summer city feel good vibe. It's buzzy.

Brexit

Infamy

Well that was cool.

Little Britain will soon be out of the European Union. The odds-makers and punters, until Thursday night's vote, expected the UK to remain but 52% of the voters said otherwise. The shock outcome has resulted in a decline in Stirling by 7-8% (far less btw when the country borrowed from the IMF in '78 and the pound fell a third or the exit from the FX mechanism in 1992 when it went down 25%), decline of 3-4% of the Footsie and a Moody's down-grade. Painful but no crisis.

Longer term, who knows ? But it is clear the new uncertainty will make foreign investment less likely not more. Europe will wish to punish Britain with tariffs and Obama has confirmed we will be "at the end of the queue" for trade agreements.  Cameron resigns. Junker has demanded we negotiate the separation without delay.

UK banks may leave to access Europe. If Brexit kills The City, it will have choked the goose that lays the golden egg. Do not forget, dear reader, that London exports £25b to the rest of the country  (London 60% in favour of Remain).

As for the leaver's objective - border control - immigrants will continue to enter the British economy because we need them, especially for skills the country does not manufacture or labour the Brits won't do. Unless, of course, the economy shrinks which is now possible following 2% growths for the last 3 years creating 1m+ jobs.

So Nigel Farage and Boris Johnson have won the day. Could it happen in the USA ? The odds-makers gave Brexit much less chance than Trump becoming President (17-1 against vs. 4-1 against).

Summer Yard Work

The kids give me their Saturday to help with yard-work. The front tree sheds every God damn leaf it owns.

If my unscientific survey of cab drivers is any indication, Britain is heading for an exit from the European union. The cabbies report that 8 or 9 out of ten of their passengers are for the Brexit. One would think London would have a greater number of Remain candidates given the jobs in financial services and the property markets.

Should Britain cede from the EU, Scotland will surely present a referendum next year to leave the UK and stay in Europe. It will be the end of Great Britain.

Madeleine: "I'm done."
Me: "You will finish the yard-work when we are all done."
Madeleine: "You said one hour."
Me: "Finish the job."
Madeleine: "You said one hour."
Me: "Madeleine I could use your help. Come on."
Madeleine: "You said one hour."
Me: "You will finish when I say so."
Madeleine: "I expect to be paid."
Me: "I assumed it."

Eitan: "Have you seen the brownies?" [Dad's note: Sonnet hides the brownies from me and Eitan]
Me: "Nope. Try the usual places."
25 minutes later. Me: "Any luck?"
Eitan: "Nah."
Me: "Keep looking kid."

Sonnet Jigs

Sonnet stops by Friday for lunch in St James's Square.

I continue to adapt to my new neighborhood with new sandwich bars, coffee shops and transportation links. I also must adjust to the commute, which is 45 minutes to an hour depending on the connections. I use the time to answer emails and find it highly efficient.

In 2003 the average UK commute was 45 minutes, in 2011 it was 54 minutes. That compares with 70 minutes in Portugal, 80 minutes in Ivory Coast and a 23 minutes in Italy. The world average is about 40 minutes.

Still Teddy After All These Years

Teddy the bear

"Open Heart" (surgery) Teddy remains in Eitan's bedroom. It splits the difference between the boy and the young man, a fade which occurs before our very eyes. 

I, too, had a stuffed bear (white, same name) which was with me to high school, hidden away in the cupboard, until tossed unceremoniously.

Ruby Tuesday

Rusty: A momentary pause from crazy

The old oak in our front yard sheds, like, its entire folio in two weeks. I hired local teenager Will to assist me and he lasted one weekend. So usually it falls on me to do the rake-up job. I can no longer hoist it on the kids who have their sports, school and social lives to tend to.

Eitan's official time at the Middlesex Championships is 4.21 in the 1500, a 5 second PB. His body is catching up to his ambition. Mark, his coach, thinks he should be gunning for 4 minutes.

Me: "4.21 is flying."
Eitan: "I'm pretty happy with it."
Me: "Must be nice to get a freebie like that."
Eitan: "What do you mean?"
Me: "Your body is growing. Along with the hard work."
Eitan:
Me: "And one day it will only be the hard work. But it won't stop you and may be to your advantage."

Me: "Did you see Ben?"
Madeleine: "Yeah, so?"
Me: "What did you guys talk about for ten minutes?"
Madeleine:
Me:
Madeleine: "Can somebody just open up the door Dad?"
Me: "Hey it's awkward for me to kid."

The Queen is 90

Arthur and I on the water metro pass by the Tower Bridge as the Queen goes by in her row boat. I'm not kidding. Canons rumble. Fighter jets fly overhead then other military vehicles and finally the Blue Eagles (I think) who cover the sky in blue, red and white. It's Her Majesty's 90th.

The country celebrates with block parties and BBQs and a million people show up at the Pall Mall. A celebration and a touch of rain ? Carry on.

Sunday Morning Lull

Photo of the river facing eastward, about 10AM on a muggy morning. To the right is Oxo pier and tower; the left is the ancient JP Morgan bank which once held Britain's gold reserves until the country went off the Gold Standard in 1931 (it is still rumoured to hold billions of pounds of gold). The Blackfriars Bridge crosses the river and covered with solar panelling. Behind the bridge is St Paul's and The City.

The tide is out.

Arthur Returns

Arthur and I re-union at Track 18, Waterloo Station, to begin a four hour walk along the Thames Path ending up beyond the Isle of Dogs/ Canary Wharf.  It is always extraordinary to uncover different neighbourhoods and small plaques presenting history long forgotten.

Last we saw Arthur, he was retiring from TRW following 30 years of service. His last project : working on an anti-missile defence program targeting ICBMs in Iran, a project employing over 500 engineers from Fairfax to Irvine, California. In my mind's eye, I picture a bunch of bearded software geniuses arriving at a warehouse with an enormous rocket in the middle, allowing them to tinker. Instead, Arthur informs, it is one of the most sterile environments he has ever worked : silent rows of cubicles and offices bathed in unnatural light. His job to ensure the pieces operate together, also known as 'systems engineering.' This leads to a discussion the Wright Brothers and so on and so forth.

Author in California keeping busy rebuilding his house.

DoE

Madeleine and Eva catch the train for Surrey and a weekend of hiking and survival for the Duke of Edinburgh award. They gals hike 7 hours Saturday and 5 hours on Sunday.

Madeleine meant to take a pizza for lunch only Eitan arrives home late from a party and eats it. The pizza meant for Eitan was, in turn, eaten by Rusty who sets off the chain of shouting and recriminations. It was a large, btw, and the dog had to open the oven to get it.

Brexit 50:50 but my bet is the unknown unknown will keep Britain in. I sure hope so.

Study Time

Madeleine studies

The scores roll in and the kid has done great.

Eitan runs the 1500 Middlesex County Champs. He places 7th of 18 in the finals; time to be verified : it is likely 4:25. Meanwhile Madeleine ranked 142 in the country for U15s with a 2:25 800m.

Dog Vines

It is that time of year again. No frog spawn though (to Sonnet's relief). Time rolls on.

Gracie has a successful operation to remove an early cancer. She is now home recovering and Moe is the nurse. Katie there as well.

Morning Coach

Eitan and Shaheen walk to the coach, on their way to school and exams. Shaheen's brother in awe of the older two.  Eitan has two exams or so a day, Monday to Friday, covering mathematics and the sciences, English and languages and drama. The corrected booklets will be returned, face down, in class this week. Same as it ever was. I am glad those days long over.

50 dead in Orlando, Florida, in a terrorist attack no matter who the perpetrator. Guns.

On Brexit

There is a real possibility that I will wake up in November with Trump as President and the UK out of the European Union.

Let us focus briefly on Brexit as I have returned my vote, by post, today (23 June deadline).

The Brexit movement is really about anti-immigration which the mostly blue collar and middle classes feel is outside our control and hence Britain does not have a democracy (point of fact: Britain controls its borders from outside of Europe, about 154k entrants last year, while there is free flow of migrants inside the union). The skills and qualities immigrants bring are necessary for Britain, a modern economy that depends on services and technologies not produced inside the country. Plus these people want to work - the idea they are sponging on the social system is absurd. They come for jobs, to work and contribute - which they do on a net economic basis.

Anyone who thinks picking up and moving elsewhere, into the unknown, a joy ride, should have their head examined.

Britain's economy btw expanding albeit not at a terrific clip at .4% in Q1 16.  Unemployment is 5.1%.

American Diner

Pickle & Rye, an American style restaurant by the rail tracks in a spot where every other shop/ restaurant seems to fail accept this one. It's a good food joint and while no comparison to the vibe of the 24/7 Three Brothers Diner or The Waverley in NYC, it holds its own. A nice touch are the baseball caps pegged to the wall.

And what New Yorker does not have a love affair with the greasy ham and cheese omelet, devoured with potatoes, ketchup and coffee at 6AM post dancing, served on a film covered counter, shortly after sunrise and just before bed ?

Eitan: "Does he have to come over?" [Dad's note: a local kid helping me with yard work]
Me: "What's the big deal?"
Eitan: "He's in my class."
Me: "So?"
Eitan: "It's a bit awkward."
Me: "He's earning money. How's it awkward?"
Eitan: "It just is."
Me: "That's he's doing work you won't do and getting paid for it? I'd feel a bit awkward."
Eitan: "That's not what I mean."
Me: "No shame in earning money. I hope you know it."
Eitan:
Me: "Beats doing it for free."
Eitan:
Me: "Which you may be doing if this keeps up."

Astorg Bids

Deal guys

Michael and Francois prepare a final bid on a deal we have been working for six months. The company a world-leader in voice prothesis units which are used by post-operative patients who have had their voice box removed in a laryngectomy due to cancer of the larynx usually caused by smoking or drinking. Picture a little button that goes in the post-op hole at the base of the throat which allows the patient to speak. Life changing product and company not cheap.

We move into our new offices in St James's next week. Our current set up, on Berkeley Square, is like a club - five guys jammed into a space for 2 or three. I rather like it, especially the couch, and often step on to the patio to make undisturbed calls watching the Mayfair gems stroll along the sidewalk underneath.

Madeleine prepares herself for the upstairs 3rd floor room, which is being re-done to her spec. The kid has suffered (?) the small bedroom now it is her turn to have some space.

800 meters

800 Runners

Sonnet has been in Montreal this week, opening the Italians at the McCord Museum. Her week filled with press interviews, dinners with the sponsors and museum patrons, presentations and speeches. 

Meanwhile back at home . .. I take the kids to a track meet in Surrey that neither want to compete. Saturday morning and it has been a long week, everyone tired. We rally, including the dog, and make the long drive to the track, located the Woodcote High School in Purley.

Madeleine goes first, clocking a 2:25 for a 4 second PB. She is ecstatic with her performance, and rightly so. Eitan delivers a 2:07, a PB by two seconds.  We have a jolly ride home rewarded by burgers for dinner.

Eitan and I now watch the Champions League final between Real Madrid and Atletico Madrid.

Madeleine: "Do you have your wallet Dad?"
Me: "No, please grab it. Unless you want to do dishes at the restaurant."
Madeleine: "Can you you tell me that one again? I've not heard it before."
Me: "Are you sassing your Dad?"
Madeleine:
Me: "Here's how you play the trumpet" [I make a donut with my pointing finger and thumb and blow]
Madeleine: "Dad we're at the restaurant. Can you stop now?"
Me: "To think I used to spend hours entertaining you guys. Putting it all on the table. Now I get this."
Madeleine: "It sounds like farting."
Me: 
Madeleine: "And its not even the trumpet."
Me: "What is it then?"
Madeleine: "A trombone."
Me: "It's all brass to me."

Me: "Yoga is something. Surrounded by all those naked people, sweating like crazy."
Madeleine: "Dad! They're not naked."
Me: "They're in yoga pants."
Madeleine: "Don't want to know."
Me: "So is it the nakedness that bothers you or me talking about being naked?"
Madeleine: "Both."
Me: "Fair enough."

Horns

The length of a minute on a Friday afternoon

I arrive in London in time for a tea-time brass ensemble at Madeleine's school Emanuel. Sonnet and I treated to horn renditions of 'The Pink Panther,' 'Rocky', and 'Softly Awakens My Heart' which would make any dog howl.  Madeleine, for her part, performs a flawless "Trumpet Tune" by Henry Purcell. Otherwise she sits behind the trombones, distracted and (to Sonnet's horror) sometimes tapping on her mobile phone.

Madeleine not expecting me at the school performance and it makes my life when I see her eyes light up big as she sees me. The father-daughter relationship a special one.