Happy Faces

Julia And Arnaud

Arnaud and Julia's wedding at Château de la Napoule, an historical landmark whose gardens listed by the French Ministry of Culture as "among the Notable gardens of France." I do not doubt it. A warm sun sets over the lingering blue sky as vows exchanged (NB: the fellow above not Arnaud).

Arnaud and I have known each other five years meeting through work and seeing each other in France (Arnaud a vrai Parissiane) or London socially - once, famously, consuming four martinis each at the Lanesborough - but this for another story. Arnaud at Adams Street, one of the most successful private equity fund investors in the world; he became their youngest partner when promoted at 33.

This is Arnaud - in dark suit w/ jacket -->

S. France

Sonnet dries her nails in Cannes.

We are to Arnaud and Julia's wedding which is on the Côte d'Azur, the French Riviera, covering 560 miles of coastline and one of the first modern resort areas in ze world. It began in the 18th-century as a winter health resort for the British upper classes daring beyond Bath; with the railway came the British, Russian, and other playboys and aristocrats like Queen Victoria and King Edward VII; in summer, the Rothschilds took over the place then came the artists: Picasso, Matisse, Edith Wharton, Somerset Maugham and Aldous Huxley who came to tan themselves. In '46, the film festival and '57 - Bond.

Cannes, where we stay, is a crowded busy spot with low brow next to high-end : on seemingly back-end streets there is a .. Gucci store next to .. Dolce & Gabbana. Fat dudes stroll the promenade, sans shirt, smoking cigars. Red Ferraris everywhere, bunched before the Grand Hotel so famous in the post cards. But it is the yachts, Dear Reader, that catch thine' eye : enormous, ostentatious, idle - birthed at sea for everyone and me to oggle : so big the smaller yachts must service them. At night their parties and disco dancing cast a halo along the flat water, otherwise still, surrounded by the glorious hillsides.

KGB

I have lunch at Terminus, outside the train station, and snap this guy who I am pretty sure is a spy. I am here for meetings then back to London on the evening train.

Eitan returns from the Isle of White and Sonnet and I will miss him until Sunday as we are off to the South of France for our 58th wedding.

Isle Of White

Eitan on the Isle of Wight with chums Luke and Ariane - pictures from the school website. Otherwise, no word. The kids are alright.

Madeleine, over my shoulder: "So. Jealous."

Rusty bites on a squeaky toy animal.

Me: "You know, he likes that because it mimics a dying animal."

Madeleine: "Not true."

Me: "True."

Madeleine: "Prove it."

Me: "How?"

Madeleine: "Look it up on the Internet."

Me, reading: " 'One theory on why dogs like squeaky toys is the nature of the squeak. In the wild, an injured prey animal would emit similar squeaks and cries, thereby revealing its position and condition. The noise generated by a rubber or plush variation on a prey animal can be just as satisfying to a dog.'"

Madeleine: "See, that's just a theory, Dad."

Gaggle

I observe three girls at the Munich airport (Sonnet has nothing to do with my photographs). They seem to be on their way to university as others on the plane wear Oxford sweatshirts. Most interesting is the body language which changes like the wind : excited, focused, defensive, nervous . . not easy being a teen-ager nor being in the bubble; and soon we will have our own. Something to think about for tomorrow. White trousers arrives late and disrupts the dynamic of two : there is now a competition for attention's center.

Madeleine: "Why do people shrink when they get older?"

Pumps

Sonnet and I decide to play hooky and here we are, buying .. shoes. She checks out some LK Bennetts. Sonnet: "they're alright. Upscale but not too upscale." I have learned not to render an opinion on these things. Instead, I sit on a lounge chair and make faces at a baby deserted by her mother. It's all good until the kid starts screaming and I am surrounded by six women and the sales clerk who drill into me with their eyes . What did I do ? From there we stroll along the Richmond High Street - more shoes! More clothes ! and then to Madeleine, who finishes football and needs a ride to swimming. Who is the passenger in this journey, I wonder ?

"I did not have three thousand pairs of shoes, I had one thousand and sixty."
--Imelda Marcos

Bon Voyage

Etan away Monday morning to the Isle of Wight for five days . Road trip, dude. We check, and double-check, the gear. His class+five adults picked up by coach at the school entrance. Also joining is Head Teacher Mr X who, I note , "a very brave man." X has heard my joke many, and many, times before : there is always one smart-ass dad on the playground and if you do not know who it is, well, it's you. So Eitan has no problem at the drop off - in fact, he happily joins his gang and gives me a sheepish hug and off he goes. One step closer to the exit, I tell a few of the choked up mums.

Me: "Miss your brother, Madeleine?"

Madeleine: "Is that a serious question ?"

Madeleine douses an omelet in ketchup.

Madeleine: "See, you can put ketchup on everything."

Me: "Yeah?"

Madeleine: "Eggs. Pizza. Pasta. Chicken, Fish, Salmon. Pretzels. Rice, burgers."

Aneta: "Fish . . "

Madeleine: "Toast, bagels, steak . .."

Aneta: "Potatoes . "

Madeleine: "Crackers."

Me: "Crackers?"

Madeleine: "Yes, Dad."

Aneta: "You can put ketchup on everything."

Me:

Mr Cool

<-- Chas

Chas and I go way back to College Pro Painters where I owned the Providence RI franchise and Chas the Production Manager (Eric being the "labour"). Some of my best stories from that era : like the time Chas and I took a 32' ladder and broke into a dude's second-floor apartment to retrieve papers he was using to .. blackmail me. But that is for another time, Dear Reader. Chas's reptilian nature meant he was cool under pressure - nothing bothered him : damaged property ? No problemo. Stolen equipment ? We'll deal with it. Over budget on the job ? You're fired. I often wonder if Chas, Eric, Roger and I will come together and start a company but I think it is ever less likely as we have settled into different cities, routines and lives.

I walk in the door following the red eye (Sonnet goes straight to work): "Hey, guys - I'm home!"

Eitan, Madeleine: "Dad! "

Me: "Did everybody do their chores?"

Madeleine: "See, Dad, you are here for five minutes and already you have to ruin it."

Me: "Well, did you?"

Eitan: "Yes. Well, sort of."

Me: "I don't see 'checks' by the jobs you were supposed to do."

Madeleine: "That's because it was raining."

Me: "How about the stuff inside?"

Madeleine: "The cleaner is coming."

Me: "Wrong answer."

Madeleine: "You can't expect us to do everything can you?"

Me: "How about if you just do what's on the list?"

Madeleine:

Me: "You are not leaving this house until you vacuum the living room."

Madeleine: "You mean I don't have to go to school?"

Me: "You are not watching television until you vacuum the living room."

Madeleine: "That is so unfair!"

r = e ^sinØ - 2cos (4Ø ) + sin^5 (2Ø -π/ 24)

Eric and Simona and the cake.

The title equation from the wedding invitation - it creates a "butterfly curve" which, Eric explains, suggests the butterflies he and Simona experienced on their first date.

Sonnet and I spend the evening talking to Bill, who heads the legendary math department at the Univ. of Arizona. Bill has an unkempt beard greying on the sides - I think of Paul Allen @ Microsoft for some reason. Nita and Alain worked with Bill and his partner Debs, also in the house, before moving to Oxford so Alain could run the Oxford Centre for Collaborative Applied Mathematics. I steer clear of anything with numbers. Instead we are pragmatic : how to perfect the martini. And the best place to drink them. Bill did a 3 year sabbatical inParis and we compare notes - he hopes to return but for now his kids at AU - "never say never," he winks.

Wizards And Corbusier

Ben and I hang out for a bit - as much as he will let me, anyways : him being 16 and me , like, impossibly old. Ben is a strikingly good looking kid who is easy to photograph. He has also maxed-out on math classes at the Harvard Extension School and now contemplates theotrical maths for next year. Ben turned me on to a few good science fiction writers like Orson Scott Card whose Ender's Game I enjoyed then passed on to Eitan. Now he suggests Terry Pratchett, Gene Wolf and George RR Martin. And Harry Potter? I ask. Ben notes "structural flaws in the writing" and, besides, "Wizards are all, like, dicks."

The Carpenter Center behind Ben BTW is the only building actually built by Le Corbusier in the United States. Sonnet and I visited Villa Savoye at Poissy-sur-Seine in France, pre-kids, and enjoyed a picnic on the green grass.

Katie adds: "The carpenter center is the art building, where I spent most of my time, on my major and thesis. The code to the building lock for years was 451, the temperature at which paper burns. The center was notoriously horrible temperature wise, for its purpose - always way too cold in winter (because of the structure it was hard to heat), so all the art students fingers froze, and poorly ventilated and thus hot in summer. "

Eric Gets Hitched

Sonnet and I to Eric's wedding in Cambridge. I arrive Friday and Sonnet several days earlier to speak at the Costume Society's annual conference in Boston. I get my first glimpse of the bride, Simona, at dinner and am pleased, very pleased, that Simona is everything Eric says and more. They are, like, totally all over each other, too, which puts me and everybody in a festive mood. Love is in the air. Sonnet and I dance to great '80s beats before turning in at a reasonable 7AM GMT.

We are BTW at the Harvard Faculty Club which, conveniently enough, is where the ceremony and reception take place. The HFC a cozy brownstone surrounded by leafy trees in the middle of the Harvurd campus. There are imposing portraits hanging from the galleries; when I ask about the building I am handed a two-side, densely typed, narrative which does not get read, saving you, dear reader, the potted history of the place.

For many of us, Eric's wedding anticipated since July '10 when he and Simona met. I know Eric to be enthusiastic when it comes to spring love and watching him navigate the perils of true love, well, a harrowing experience for all involved. He, and Simona - and I - come through it and, now, joy.

Kate Bush

I am interested in Kate Bush, pictured, from the www, because of her '80s look - all that - and music, which I have grown to appreciate only recently. Bush is Britain's most successful solo female performer of the past 30 years who, at age 16, was discovered by Pink Floyd's David Gilmour and picked up by EMI. In 1978, at age 19, she topped the UK Singles Chart for four weeks with her debut single "Wuthering Heights," becoming the 1st woman to have a UK #1 with a self-written song. Many of Bush's songs have a melodramatic emotional and musical surrealism that defies easy categorisation (says me). She has influenced many of my favorites including Wild Beasts and Goldfrapp.

"The less you know about home computers, the more you'll want the new IBM PS/2."

--Edmonton Journal, 1987

Jeff+Rusty

The dog worth his weight in middle-age therapy sessions.

Sonnet away to Boston, leaving this morning, where she will speak at a conference.

We walk the dog after dinner.

Me: "Come on, Madeleine, I am tired of asking you to walk Rusty."

Madeleine: "Can I get an ice cream at the ice cream truck?"

Me: "Sure!"

Madeleine: "Really?! Wow, Dad, that is so nice!"

Me: "In fact, why not two?"

Madeleine: "Are you serious? Really? You have never done anything like that before!"

Me: "Pssst. Three!"

Madeleine: "The ice cream truck isn't even there, is it Dad?"

Me: "Well, let's go find out. Now get the leash."

Madeleine grapples with relativity.

Me: "There's Jenny."

Madeleine: "Who's that?"

Me: "Jenny. She used to be Jackson's nanny - you know her."

Madeleine: "Well, that was like two years ago."

Me: "Yeah, so?"

Madeleine: "Well, for you that is like nothing but for me, it is almost my whole life."

Me: "What's your point?"

Madeleine: "I don't know."

Self Portrait XVIII

Me trying to look like Don Draper. Katie points out that I need a cigarette.

Madeleine: "I met a new friend in art yard. His name is Hudson, like the river."

Me: "Cool name."

Madeleine: "Yeah. He's on crutches though."

Me: "Why's that ?"

Madeleine: "I think it's because blood is not going to his ribs or something."

Me:

Madeleine: "We played dominoes."

Me: "Thank goodness the strain didn't kill him."

Madeleine: "Oh Dad."

The Vaccines

Christian sends me this photo from the Vaccines concert at a small club in San Fran -- in the UK, they are coming up off a first album that hits.

Smooch

Katie sends a smooch from the Upper West Side.

I take the kids to their tutor Stephanie and have an hour free-time with each. Eitan and I go jogging along the Thames, starting around the Putney peers, which is a treat for me to have his companionship. The boy is a good runner, too. Afterwards, Madeleine and I head for Waitrose so she can talk me into buying her some "Strawberry string" (yuk). I give her one pound and tell her : "go for it." Sonnet works late on her next majah expo : Italian fashion, which is up for approval later this month.

Madeleine, out of the blue: "Dad would you have your wedding at the Putney Pool?"

Madeleine at Waitrose: "Look, Dad, the Jelly Beans Eitan got."

Me :

Madeleine: "And here it's 80p and he paid six pounds."

Me: "Sounds like a bad deal for him."

Madeleine: "Can I buy some?"

Me: "If it's less than £1, sure."

Madeleine: "Look at this one. It is one pound and 1p."

Me: "Mmmm"

Madeleine: "Can I have one p?"

Me: "Nope."

Madeleine: "You are so cruel, Dad."

Madeleine: "You're the math guy and mum's the literacy girl."

Madeleine: "Are you going to be a butcher?

Me: "Um. ."

Madeleine: "Didn't you say you were going to learn how to be a butcher so you can cut up a cow?"

Me: "Right, good memory - I was thinking about a class for that earlier this year but I don't think I am going to do it."

Madeleine: "Good because I don't want you to bring home a dead animal."

Silvio Undone ?

Last week Il Cavaliere lost Milano, something unheard of for his PDL party and not inside 20 years. And let us remind ourselves of the final straw:

In November 2010, teenage Moroccan belly dancer and alleged prostitute Karima El Mahroug (better known as "Ruby Rubacuori") claimed to have been given $10,000 by Berlusconi at parties at his private villas. The girl told prosecutors in Milan that these events were like orgies where Berlusconi and 20 young women performed an African-style ritual known as the "bunga bunga" in the nude. It was also found out that, on 27 May 2010, El Mahroug had been arrested for theft by the Milan police but (being still a minor) she was directed to a shelter for juvenile offenders. However, following two telephone calls by Berlusconi to the police authorities (in which, in particular, he falsely indicated that El Mahroug was a close relative of President Hosni Mubarak of Egypt), the young woman was released and entrusted to the care of PDL regional counselor (and Berlusconi's personal dental hygienist) Nicole Minetti. The investigation of Berlusconi for extortion and child prostitution regarding Karima El Mahroug has been referred to as "Rubygate". MP Gaetano Pecorella proposed to lower the age of majority in Italy to solve the case.

Source : New Yorker and The Times

Stephan And Barbara Get Married

The Catholic ceremony in German and so I tell the groom congratulations, noting that I have no idea if they are actually got married.

The Shakespeares with Aneta. I leave them a page of chores and a stern address: done by my return. Or else. To ensure compliance, each completed item to be "checked" with a thick, black, marker. Just like my banking days.

Leeberghof

The post-ceremony reception located in the mountains overlooking the lake and Tegernsee. Photo from a private dining room next to the dining hall.