Aunt Marcia recently found my long-lost California drivers license, gone since freshman year in college. I remember searching frantically for it. Those looking closely may notice my birth year, doctored using the "5" in "1530 Euclid Avenue." This got me into The Tunnel and the Palladium as well as all the alcohol I wished to consume. Marcia asks if Larry confiscated my license when I took the Bronxville family car? But that is for another story.
Eitan bakes an orange cake whose ingredients include unsalted butter, two eggs, golden caster sugar, flour and baking power. And, of course, one orange.
Photo by Sonnet from Mark Fast's collection, which Sonnet and Madeleine see yesterday in town.
A fascinating series of photos, below, of the 100-meter butterfly final at the 2008 Beijing Olympics pitting Phelps against Serbia’s Milorad Cavic (on the right). Without Phelp's magic touch, the quest to surpass Mark Spitz's seven Olympic golds would have come to an end at race seven.
Sonnet has the idea to visit Lisboa, early, for the best cream pastries and fried pork sandwiches in Notting Hill. Years ago in Maida Vale and pre-kids, we walked to Lisboa most Saturday mornings then the Portebella market for vintage whatever. All my cuff-links from then. Lisboa on the Golborne Rd and near the horrific Trellik Tower, pictured, which has fascinated me for years. Trellik, next to the Grand Union Canal littered with dog shit, a 31-storey block of flats designed in the Brutalist style by architect Ernő Goldfinger (Ian Fleming hated the building so much he named a central Bond villain after the architect). The tower completed in '72 and now recognised as Grade II* listed building.
Moe and Grace before the Rotary Dance. Grace wears her high school sweater and was a cheer-leader at Upper Arlington High School outside of Columbus, Ohio, from 1956-1958. She tells me the school mascot was the Golden Bear. Jack Nicklaus, whose nick-name "the Golden Bear," was graduated a year ahead my mom; he was captain or co-captain of the football, basketball and baseball teams "and played a little golf on the side which none of us really knew about." Grace led cheers for the football and basketball teams and notes the teams pretty good. "There were six of us, three sophomores and three seniors."
Me: "Well, Eitan, I am sorry to inform you that your mother and I not invited to the Royal Wedding. "The invitations went out this week and we did not receive the golden invitation. Unless it should arrive in today's post, that is."
A bridge has been at Vauxhaull since 13th century when the south river a swamp. Following numerous essays, a new bridge built to a starkly functional design at the turn of of the 19th century, and many influential architects complained about the lack of consultation during the design process. In 1903, during the construction of the bridge, the LCC consulted with architect William Edward Riley about the possible decorative elements that could be added to the bridge. Riley proposed erecting two 60-foot pylons topped with statues at one end of the bridge, and adding decorative sculpture to the bridge piers. The pylons were rejected on cost but it was decided to erect monumental bronze statues above the piers.
And, yes, Friday. It is not entirely clear that I have moved the ball down-field this week but, then, nor has the world come to an end. Our family routine fixed: AM dog walk -> kids to school -> work &c -> swimming, football, trumpet, tutor, play-date(s) -> dinner -> reading -> lights out. The kids on half-term from Monday.
Today is a London day, grey and dark - cold. This is what I and everyone thinks of when they consider here. I cross the Vauxhaull Bridge on my way to the Tate Britain to see the Water Colour exhibition and check in with some l'art. Seems like the right thing to do on a slow day otherwise.
Below, a nifty program designed by Derp Bike Designer, learns to build a "car" using a genetic algorithm - the clip in its advanced stages. It starts with a population of 20 randomly generated shapes with wheels and runs each one to see how far it goes. The cars that go the furthest reproduce to produce offspring for the next generation. The offspring combine the traits of the parents to hopefully produce better cars.
Pictured, outside our house.
Somehow I find myself in the middle. 43, after all - half way to the end zone, contemplating secondary schools for the kids, watching Sonnet in her museum career and working on mine. Waiting for Cal in the Rose Bowl. Admittedly, my generation off to a late start - many of us remaining at home until our 30s, avoiding occupations and marriage until later still. The delay perhaps due to a stagnant US economy in the early '90s, but my suspicion simply that many of us could. Or maybe the stall from some sense of entitlement, passed down from our comfortable parents, who instilled in our psyches the belief that our lives would be more interesting, more rich, more exciting than theirs. Such expectations high enough to be unobtainable and so .. why bother?
The 2012 Olympics schedule posted today and 30 July may be the Biggest Day of many Big Days. This, Dear Reader, the final of the men's 200-meter freestyle which may see Michael Phelps against Ian Thorpe, who un-retires for one more essay at glory.
Eitan submits a story, limited to 200 words maximum, for a national school competition. The winning stories professionally illustrated and published. Here is the boy's lance:T. Rex's Secret, By Eitan
