Who would know that the T.V. is turned on? After morning 'tunes, we head for the common and play footie for a couple of hours before returning to London. Eitan has an ear infection from the pool which upsets his afternoon. Sonnet greets us with open arms following two nights apart. What a nice weekend.
Here is Joseph pulling his best sword-in-statue (we have just visited the Elgin Marbles at the British Museum). When not portraying a Roman, Joseph helps private equity funds raise money. The Elgin Marbles, BTW, are a collection of marble sculptures that originally decorated the Parthenon and other buildings on the Acropolis of Athens. Thomas Bruce, 7th Earl of Elgin, the British ambassador to the Ottoman Empire from 1799 to 1803, obtained permission from the Ottoman authorities to remove sculptures from the Acropolis. From 1801 to 1812 Elgin's agents removed about half of the surviving sculptures of the Parthenon. The Marbles were transported to Britain, and were purchased by the British Government in 1816 after public debate in Parliament. They were placed on display in the British Museum, where they are now on view in the purpose-built Duveen Gallery. Should they be here or there, one debates.
I give Madeleine our room-key for safe-keeping. She promptly loses it. On the way to the front desk for a duplicate I tell her we may have to sleep in the lobby. She, bug eyed to Eitan: "Is it true?"
Here I am the other day at the Greek antiquities inside the British Museum. I report, dear reader, that the BM was established in 1753, opening with the collection donated mostly by Sir Hans Sloane (yes, of Sloane Square, South Kensington) in Montague House in Bloomsbury. The collection today numbers more than 13 million objects of which less than 2% are on display at any given time. In the archives are wall paintings from Central Asia's' Caves of Bezeklik, which Sonnet and I visited in 1997. The cave retreats were once inhabited by Buddhist monks near the Turpan Peninsula in the Taklamakan desert (translation: "those who enter do not come out)" and remain a testimony to the heyday of Chinese Buddhism. The caves were hidden for hundreds of years buried in sand or riverside cliffs. Upon their discovery in the 1920s by British explorer Sir John Younghusband, portions were carved out and delivered to London in straw and rope, leaving gaping holes where once there were horse-heads, weapons and painted men. In London I contacted the Curator of Central Asia to see what I missed, but never did she return my communication.
1,400 scientist submit their report to the United Nations today, concluding our planet is in peril. According to them, thirty percent of amphibians, 23 percent of mammals and 12% of birds are under threat. The report was drafted and researched by almost 400 scientists, all experts in their field, whose findings were reviewed by another 1,000 of their peers. Findings show that the world's population has grown by 34% to 6.7B in 20 years; 73,000 hectares is lost annually (3.5X the size of Wales) and 60% of the world's major rivers have been dammed or diverted. Ten million children under age 10 die each year and more than half of all cities exceed WHO pollution guidelines. Photo from AirFlow.
Chipping Marlow in Buckinghamshire - the town name is Anglo Saxon in origin, and means 'land remaining after the draining of a pool'. In the Doomsday Book in 1086 it was recorded as Merlaue, though previously it was known as Merelafan. Otherwise, Marlow has been an important town for many years. This is because of its location on the River Thames. It has had its own market charter since 1324 at the latest but ownership of the charter has been lost and no market has been held since at least 1940. As early as 1299 the town had its own Member of Parliament As for the pictured bridge, it has been there since the reign of King Edward III. The current bridge is a suspension bridge, designed by William Tierney Clark in 1832, and was a prototype for the nearly identical but larger Szecheni Chain Bridge across the Danube in Budapest. Cool.
Rest assured, dear reader, that we are up at 0600 for a swim (last night, following two movies and dinner on the bed, we are asleep at 8PM. I can't remember the last time I've done that). After the pool and breakfast we head for the Marlow town center and find a fabulous, well-populated playground where the kids let lose. I chase them around their pretend space ships pretending to be an evil invader. Other kids join in and soon its a free-for-all and I am somehow happily in the center. This beats swimming laps any day. From there we go to lunch with a stop at the book shop where Madeleine pleads for a "secret journal." I give in telling the elderly cashier "It's a game of endurance and today they have won." She accepts this with a smile. At lunch, Eitan writes "Top Secret" and "Confidential" in his notebook while Madeleine scribbles her name and today's date.
The Big News this week is Madeleine's front tooth, which fell out Tuesday while at Kew Gardens (pictured). "Dad! There was blood everywhere but I wasn't scared" she tells me breathlessly. The tooth had been wobbling for the past two weeks and it seemed she was playing with it ALL THE TIME or at least WHENEVER I AM LOOKING. So happily the Tooth Ferry delivers £2, which is the going rate on the playground.
In the pool, I tell Madeleine I will give her one M&M if she swims a lap: "No way, dad" she replies.
Two?
"No."
Three?
"No."
Four?
"OK- but it's not because I want to."
While driving, I ask the kids to keep their eyes open for the hotel. Madeleine from the back: "What will you give me?"
This week has been school half-term, which basically means 10 days of holiday or hardship for working parents like us. Happily Natasha has a busy program and the kids have been to the movies, had play-dates and visited Hampton Palace where the hedge-row maze kept them entranced. Today, while Sonnet works away, I take Eitan and Madeleine to Marlow on the Thames next to Henley and nearby Oxford. Marlow is charming but it ain't Italy or Spain where most of these Brits seem to go this time of year. That said, we're staying at a five star hotel complete with pool and room service. And limitless movies! I tell the kids we're going to Hollywood and they have been abuzz since Monday. We arrive and head straight for the pool - no disappointment there following two hours and pruny hands. The Little Shakespeares now watch the movie "Mr Bean" and wait for their cheese burgers and chips. Yum!
I wonder aloud where the traffic is going on the crowded M40. Eitan replies "they must be going to our hotel" and Madeleine: "We will have no where to stay!"
Madeleine is motionless in the pool. I ask if she is peeing and she replies, guilt all over her face: "No dad."
And more: "Remember that time on holiday when I peed in the Jacuzi?"
I overhear a conversation in the bathroom about peeing. Madeleine insists girls have it better off because they sit down. "Well" counters Eitan "that doesn't work very well if you are away in nature."
Eitan is a serious footballer, and so we practice at a nearby common Saturday afternoon. I have him running all sorts of drills including fast-breaks, ball control and one-on-one's with me. When I tell him his shoe's untied and steal the ball, he is pissed off: "No trash-talking dad!".
Later walking home I ask him what kind of an office he imagines for himself one day and without missing a beat: "Old Trafford" which, of course, is Manchester United's stadium.
Our weekend is otherwise routine: swimming practice Sunday morning for Eitan; performance and singing for Madeleine. Sunday is spent with friends Ramsey and Jennifer in Hamstead on a beautiful autumn afternoon. Ramsey used to work for the Prince Al Walid of The Kingdom and the fifth wealthiest person on the planet. The Prince is a night owl who arrives at his offices after noon then works until 2AM. Ramsey and he shuttled from meetings in a private jet - in this case, one of two 747's housed next to the office and private run-way. Jennifer is from up-state Michigan and their children are about the same age as ours. In other words, just your normal London family.
Ah, the Tower Bridge. The crossing opened in the twilight of the 19th century following 8 years of construction work. Prior, over 50 Tower designs were submitted, including one from Sir Josepth Bazalgette who built London's sewer system, before Horace Jones took the cake (Jones was one of the judges). Two massive piers, containing over 70,000 tons of concrete were sunk into the river bed to support the construction. Over 11,000 tons of steel provided the framework for the towers and walkways. This was then clad in Cornish granite and Portland Stone, both to protect the underlying steelwork and to give the bridge a pleasing appearance. The original raising mechanism was powered by pressurised water stored in six hydraulic accumulators which were replaced by new electro-hydraulic drive system in 1974. The longest span is 61 meters while the total length is 244 meters. It's not the Golden Gate but is equally iconic as a working architecture: over 40,000 cars pass daily.
"It represents the vice of tawdriness and pretentiousness, and of falsification of the actual facts of the structure"
H. H. Statham"Bridge Engineering", Wiley, 1916.
"A more absurd structure than the Tower Bridge was never thrown across a strategic river"
Brangwyn, F., and Sparrows, W.S., "A Book of Bridges", John Lane, 1920.
Photo thanks to Creative Commons Attribution.
Dave Ellis models his inner Storm Trooper, sent from London via me. This is a nice seguay to Eitan's schoolyard where the kids trade action figures. Eitan gets a free start when neighborhood pal Jackson gives him Luke Skywalker which is then traded up for Venom (from Lucas) and then Thumper (from Harry). The ultimate prize is Spider Man and the boys huddle around an outside table and share notes on value. Thumper BTW is one foot and has a wind-up arm that destroys any standing plastic. Of course: No Girls Allowed.
Cal vs UCLA at the L.A. Coliseum and England vs South Africa in the World Cup Rugby championships. Another Big Day of sports.
Madeleine plays "LeapPad" (a touch-and-sound game) telling me her favourite instruments are the Drums and the guitar - she will begin lessons shortly though not the drums.
I enjoy a day-trip to Dublin and sneak a visit to the National Museum next to Trinity College. The museum enjoys Western Europe's largest collection of gold casts dating from 1200 B.C. There is also a gallery dedicated to the 795 A.C. invasion of the Vikings, who had a lasting influence on the island's civilisation: the Nords introduced modern weapons (many gruesome devices like the two-sided axe with nail-like thruster), farming techniques and eventually currency which was used to trade with bits of Europe. Dublin herself is a Viking city and today is one of Europe's fastest growing capitals - evident by the traffic and property value, which makes even London blush. The city looks rich - not the case as recently as two years ago - with a new highway tunnel connecting the airport and an inner city tram system. The BBC surveyed 11,200 residents of 112 urban and rural areas in 2003 and Dublin was found to be the best capital city in Europe to live in, and Ireland the most content country in Europe. I pinched this photo from the WWW and unfortunately cannot spot a four-leaf clover.
Ireland's recent wealth BTW has accumulated from 1986 when Ira Magaziner, who famously created the New Curriculum at Brown University, advised the country to reduce corporate taxes (today, 12.5%) to attract Big Business from Dell to Pfizer
I visit the Royal Academy to view a retrospective of the German artists work. It is dark, gorey, confused, bleak and angry and includes well known paintings "B for Larry" (pictured), "Oberon" and "Big Night Down the Drain" which is a gruesome self-portrait of a boy masturbating. The painting was seized by the police at its showing in 1961 and kick-started Baselitz's career, which began in earnest in the 1950s. He was otherwise trained in East Germany before moving to West Berlin. During his formative years, Baselitze was profoundly effected by Germany 's wretchedness during and following the War - and his work seeks to communicate its deprivation shockingly. And he succeeds.
Joey Junior celebrates numero uno and Joey Senior serves up the cake. It is always even odds as to who is having the most fun at the party. This morning is Harvest Festival at Eitan and Madeleine's school and the children march into the Tim Bernard Lee Hall full of joy and vigor - Head Master Elaine England does a fine job settling them down and orchestrating a number of autumnal songs like: "red, orange and golden brown - see! the leaves are falling down." Madeleine in the front row is wonderfully off-key and Sonnet and I are delighted as her voice soars across the auditorium. Sonnet gives her a secret double thumbs-up, which makes her glow. From the festivities I assist Eitan's teacher in the class-room and today's lesson focuses on imperatives which, the teacher explains, "are bossy instructions." The kids get this one pretty quickly, especially the girls who have younger brothers.
Moe and Grace's cat, photographed by Katie, relaxes in Berkeley. Madeleine fell in love with SP at first sighting two summers ago and chased the cat around the house. Now, when we call home, Madeleine asks about SP and to talk to her. This has fuelled her desire to own a cat (or dog) and we have promised when she is a teenager: and so she saves away. Sweetie Pie replaced beloved Pootsy ("stinky" in Italian - thank you, Katie) who was feral and the runt of the litter. Grace found Pootsy in a vacant Oakland lot befriending her with tuna before throwing her into a pillow case and bringing her home to Euclid. She led a good life, as does SP today.
Here I am in Madrid next to the Prado museum during the Great Internet Bubble (yes, the Internet has outlived the title of this blog). For those lucky enough to experience the thrill of it all - the world was, and is, at your finger tips quite literally. While I founded eZoka.com too late in Cycle I to earn the spectacular windfall of many of my West Coast brethren, the experience was nonetheless rewarding and positive. I learned, for instance, that there is love in action: and no regrets doing a thing with conviction. The momentum from then carries me today.
Eitan shoots away at Kew; skull courtesy of Aunt Martine for the early Halloween. I'm up at dawn to do my power-walk, check email and listen to the Stereophonics. Power walking, for the record, is not a replacement to running but easier on the bod. Afterwards I shuttle the kiddies to school bumping into the usual suspects on the way. It's a good community vibe and the children chat about who knows what? while the parents compare notes on nits or the moment's passing subject. Today Eitan has Spanish which he looks forward to. "I also speak Italian!" he exclaims.
Shai is a friend from Columbia Business School though we met in London. Before CBS Shai procured weapons for the Israeli government. Now, he invests in clean-tech for Sir Richard Branson. He is a serious guy. This morning I sit in Madeleine's class and smile as Mrs. Reynolds takes the children through their steps. The kids are asked to draw the various ways they got to school - walk, scooter, car, plane - which are then used to create a pictorial. We compare which methods are most popular, counting the totals and the differences. Mrs Reynolds explains that a pictorial is an easy way to see the difference between things. From there, it's indoor pe then lunch. Fun!
"I brushed my teeth with gun powder!"
Eitan uses my sodium bicarbonate toothpaste
"It just takes me longer to chew!"
Madeleine wales, always the last at the dinner table
"Chips! Cookies! Chocolate! Sweeties! Coffee cake!"
Belt Eitan and Madeleine when asked their favorite school lunch
Yesterday morning we meet Shai and Ada Weiss and their boys Yuval and Ynon. Photo of Madeleine at Climbers and Creepers, an indoor play area which, among other things, has a living bee-hive where the insects enter and exit via a system of see-through tubing. C&C is experience oriented which means the kids run amok and here I chase Madeleine to her delight and my exhaustion. Otherwise Kew is the temporary home to 32 Henry Moore bronzes which spread across the grounds like something from the Beatles' "Yellow Submarine." Several years ago Sonnet and I visited Moore's work at a sculpture garden in West Yorkshire which was by itself cool but the scale and farm-like setting made it more so. Any case, the kids love climbing in and out of the sculptures which seem to welcome their participation.
"The secret of life is to have a task, something you devote your entire life to, something you bring everything to, every minute of the day for the rest of your life. And the most important thing is, it must be something you cannot possibly do. "
and
"To know one thing, you must know the opposite. "
Henry Moore (1898-1986, England)
This is Camilla's dog Poppy, which the family picked up Sunday morning. Camilla has been anticipating the family addition for some time and Paul has prepared her for this new responsibilty with a play-game offering pointers on pet care. Very 21st century. Madeleine is jealous (of course) but we have promised her an animal when she is a teen-ager. Madeleine is saving her allowance. Coincidentally, Poppy is a dead-wringer for Paul in the back seat driving home from Natalie and Justin's dinner party late Saturday night.
