Valentine's Day (Three Cards+Madeleine)

Me: "Do you have a special Valentine?"
Madeleine: "What do you mean?"
Me: "I don't know - is there anybody you have given a card to?"
Madeleine: "All the girls are, like, that is so last year."
Me: "Oh?"
Madeleine: "And it's the girls who always give the valentines to the girls."
Me: "Not to the boys?"
Madeleine: "No, way. That would be suspicious Dad."
Me:
Madeleine (with emphasis): "Like, so suspicious."
Me: "That's the last thing you would want to do. Let some boy know you like him."
Madeleine: "You just don't know what it's like to be a kid."
Me: "I was once a kid, you know."
Madeleine:
Me: "And we gave Valentines to each other."
Madeleine: "Like a hundred years ago.
Me: "Fair enough."

A Beautiful Voice

Whitney Houston, pop superstar and Newark native, dead at 48. The cause either bathtub drowning or prescription drugs. In my mind's eye, Houston, from the '80s, perfect. We have lost another beautiful voice.

America has a nasty little drugs habit. Unlike the past, today's abusers are, by majority, middle- to later-aged affluent whites who begin their addiction easily enough : perhaps a minor sports surgery or mild-prescription. The result : 28,000 people died from unintentional prescription drug overdose in 2007, the year with the most recent data (source: Office of National Drug Control Policy). This exceeds the number of people who died in the crack cocaine epidemic of the 1980s and the black tar heroin epidemic of the 1970s. 

Houston's end crosses all races and classes but must be particularly hard on the black community. She has been a role model and one of many upward steps to the White House.
(Photo from the WWW)

Bushy Park 5K

Eitan keen to qualify for a "mini" marathon which he learned about through school. He does not know much more, like, the distance of the mini marathon. But, today, it is a 5K. The race part of a weekly series run across the UK including Richmond Park. It is well organised, too : I register on the web, print my and Eitan's bar code , which is scanned at the finish-line with results emailed inside the hour.

Temperature -6 degrees when we leave the house : both of us in running shorts and shivering like jello. At line-up it is not much better, either, but when the gun goes we forget the cold. Eitan a capable athlete and  keeps to my shoulder most of the way with a surge at the last 100 meters. Puff. Puff. Puff. We are 77 and 78th place, respectively (the boy in front) out of 725 ; our time : 20 minutes, 42 seconds.  Me, I am over the moon to run without injury. And a race? I am like 30 all over again.

Afterwards we discuss pace, timing and strategy. Eitan pleased with himself in a bashful-confident sort of way. As for the mini marathon : who knows? but I assume his time qualifies but, since Eitan does not know this crucial detail , either, he will have to wait and see.

"You find out a lot about yourself through athletics. If you're cut out to be a winner or a failure or a quitter, athletics will bring it out of you. You're always stripping yourself down to the bones of your personality. And sometimes you just get a glimpse of the kind of talent you've been given. Sometimes I run and I don't even feel the effort of running. I don't even feel the ground. I'm just drifting."
--Steve Ovett, Middle distance runner for Great Britain

On Ratios

Sonnet: "So what are you doing in maths, anyway?"
Madeleine: "Um, stuff."
Sonnet: "Can you tell me a little more?"
Madeleine: "It begins with an 'r'"
Sonnet: "Rounding?"
Madeleine: "No, that's not it. It's rr . rrr - ratio! We're doing ratios."
Sonnet: "Can you explain that to me then?"
Madeleine: "Well imagine you have a chicken."
Me:
Madeleine: "And there is another chicken. And one chicken has five eggs. No, four. And the other has four eggs."
Sonnet: "Yes?"
Madeleine: "And there are like two chickens for, um, eight eggs. That is a ratio."
Sonnet: "Well done."
Madeleine: "And if you have, like, two hands and ten fingers that is , um, two to ten."
Me: "Makes sense to me."
Sonnet: "Well done, Madeleine."

All Stars

Is this the best sneaker ever made ?

I had my first pair of 'Chucks' in Junior High, when the fashion was an off-cream. The only other acceptable canvas was the Sperry Top Sider, but that is another blog. Converse went with about anything an 11 or 12 year old could wear but especially blue jeans where they were - and are - the perfect complement. What's more, they age well : like 501's which were, like, perfect after 50 washings, the All Star even more cool when the fabric frayed and white rubber scuffed.

All Stars introduced in 1917 to capture the new basketball shoe market. Chuck Taylor, a basketball player and shoe salesman, improved the design and became the shoe's spokesperson in the 1920s.  He was successful, too : Any photo from the NBA in the '50s or '60s will have a pair of Cons - back then, players wore them with short-shorts, as was the fashion and who knows why ?  In 2002, Nike bought the company for $305 million.

Some of us liked the 'high top' which, in the summer, went well with shorts or whatever. For me, it has always been about the classic : the tight lacing and lack of sole make it a perfect match for skinny trousers, which I prefer in my middle yuf.  K-Swiss and Adidas or Nike retros all fine for boxier leggings and Michael Jordans for, you know, real basketball players. All Stars have their own place in my wardrobe and my heart. The only concession I make for now : I only wear them new.

Madeleine's Bedroom

Sunday evening Sonnet and I take the kiddies, against their will, to see "Leonardo da Vinci: Painter at the Court of Milan," at London's National Gallery on its closing night, no less. The exhibitions includes nine of da Vinci's 15-surviving paintings - the first time so many of the master's works exhibited together (A historian on Radio 4 advises : each painting should be viewed for a minimum of 20 minutes, which raises a groan from the back seat as Eitan quickly does the maths). Says the curator of Italian painting pre-1500 Luke Syson : "Once-in-a-lifetime experience".

The show's focus on  da Vinci's work at the Sforza Court in Milan (1480-90) as a painter and engineer for the Duke. During this period he produced the "La Belle Ferronniere," "The Lady with an Ermine" (my favourite), "Virgin On The Rocks" (the first time on loan from the Louvre) and that little fresco, "The Last Supper" (which my sister recreated on the wall of a frozen yogurt shop in Boston while Harvard).  All of these works, barring "The Last Supper" (which is painted onto the wall of a church in Milan) on view. It is a ring-side seat to the beginning of the Renaissance.  Wow. Wow.

 From da Vinci to the Super Bowl. One spectacle to another.

Eitan's Bedroom

Eitan and I to Fulham football practise but cancelled due to cold (frozen pitch).  At Eitan's urging, and to his great surprise, we stop at Krispy Kreme on the way home and I love it : real Americana right next to the fly-over, complete with booths of teen-agers drinking coffee.  We select a box of twelve donuts, eat four, and bring the rest home for breakfast or whenever.  Since Madeleine not with us, she gets first choice on the next four.  Eitan grumbles but thems the rules.

Driving home. Eitan: "Do you think I could eat a billion oranges?"
Me: "Interesting . .."
Eitan: "I mean, if they are peeled."
Me: "Well, let's break it down. How long will you live?"
Eitan: "80 years."
Me: "So how many days is that ?
Eitan: "Um, 29,200."
Me: "Good, and what is one billion divided by 29,200? You can round to 29,000 if you want."
Eitan: "34,482."
Me: "That's a lot of diarrhea."
Eitan: "I could still do it."
Me:
Eitan: "Do you think there are a trillion grains of sand on the beech?"
Me: "Break it down for me, kid .. ."

Double Digits

Madeleine turns ten and things will never be quite the same .  Tonight, it is Wagamama's (her choice) where we discuss nine's highlights (and I quote): "stuff." 


Madeleine always an original. From the mad dash down the birth canal (too quick for an epidural) to the first breath : "Here I am!".   Later, it was tree climbing :  Look, there's my daughter, twenty-five feet overhead. This taught the unteachables : risk-taking, goal setting .. determination. Stubborness.  No matter how I holler or coax, she is on her own time.

From reception , Madeleine has been a "tom boy,"  scraped elbows and bruised shins. Her friends are mostly all boys at a time when girls still the enemy. This not always easy when the birthday party-invitations and over-nights don't come.  Her heart otherwise filled with pets : bugs to fish to hamsters to Rusty (and soon, a lizard. .. ).

Madeleine today borders primary and secondary school; being a kid and adolescence.  She watches Eitan take the first steps off the cliff : sometimes a blessing, sometimes a curse.  We observe her progress in school, in drama and art, and sports, with wonderment and delight. What will the next year bring ? What joy to be around.

Nigel Doughty, RIP

Nigel Doughty died Saturday, age 54. With Dick Hanson, he founded one of Europe's most respected buy-out firms, Doughty Hanson, which has invested €23 billion in over 100 deals.  Doughty self-made and helped create the industry that made him rich.

Our paths crossed a few times : in 1997 I interviewed for Associate , my ears still wet from MBA school. By today's standards, Doughty Hanson then small , with maybe £1 billion under management.  Following eight interviews, Nigel enters , no pre-amble : "Using the capital asset pricing model please explain why Doughty Hanson has been able to achieve superior returns." Me, blank. Doughty: "Feel free to use the chalkboard."  Yes, an unfair question - CAPM used to value companies, not explain a firm's success - but it was all him : punchy, direct, challenging and a bit of fun. I didn't get the job.

In '99 I went back to Nigel and this time Doughty Hanson gave me $8 million to launch an Internet company.  The firm had taken an interest in the technology business, forming a maiden venture fund, and I was his first investment.

When not trading companies, Doughty's interests covered politics ( major donor, Labour party), "responsible capitalism" (Founded the Doughty Centre for Corporate Responsibility at Cranfield Mgmt School) and football (owner of Nottingham Forest Football Club).  Private equity and all of us lost a good one. (photo from the www)

The Grinch

Sonnet takes Eitan to a swimming gala while Madeleine and I to the park, pictured, she begging me for a snowball fight or a snowman (I decline). Yes, I am grumpy from last week's surgery and last night's party-cocktails+the early rise does not help ( though I did enjoy watching late night tele with Sonnet, eating eggs, and watching the snow fall).  Rusty in on the action, and I almost knock a guy's block off when he hits the dog, who is otherwise playing with the dude's pooch. Only I can hit Rusty. 

I ask Madeleine to write a three-page story and, after some mild protestations, she produces : "The Greek Who Stole Christmas."  Does she mean Grinch? "No, Dad, it's about a Greek."  And, I think, perhaps she has it right.

At the Surrey County Swimming Championships, Eitan swims the 400-meter freestyle in 5:23 , an 11-second improvement, and the same time as his pal Philippe. Coach says: "I see the next generation of club swimmers here." 

First Snow

Richmond Park , around 10:20AM, Sunday.

Sonnet and I to Lizzie and Ferdie's wedding party .. or is it Lizzie's 40th ? Who knows. They have been together a long time - long enough to have children, ages 7 and five, and married last year. Ferdie at an Italian bank where he was head of risk; now he is doing more operational and balance sheet work. His view : The world coming to an end, but let us not focus on that.  Lizzie and Sonnet former colleagues at the V & A and fast friends : Lizzie being one of the few people I know who can make Sonnet laugh with abandon.  Lizzie's parents Dons at Oxford while she went to Cambridge.

One of Lizzie's party friends, Julie, an attractive 28 or 29 - enough to catch an eye and worth a conversation : the more intriguing when I learn she has a Cabinet Job , and responsible for security during, and running up to, the summer Olympics. Her staff of 42 coordinates with The Met Office, military and other protective forces (she: "I will be in a silo off Downing St during the games."). After earning a PhD, Julie "worked on " the 2002 foot-and-mouth crisis when Britain slaughtered over 100,000 cattle. She joined govt, with a shrug, instead of profit-making schemes, like The City, to have an impact and I think : Kennedy or Clinton, when young people chose public service over their purse. She now briefs the Prime Minister, David Cameron, weekly.  Julie tells me "He likes to take decisions , unlike Gordon Brown."  She would know.

Bionic Dog

Rusty to the Vets - the pooch has had more check-ups than Sonnet in the LTM - should we be alarmed ? Since his feminising operation, Rusty has lost 1.5 Kg which, the attendant tells me, "is very unusual."  Usually testosterone's loss brings weight gain but Rusty walked four-times daily plus, often, a run. The downside to his conditioning : the dog begs for it , 7AM. 

Me: "Since you're sitting there, empty the dish washer."
Eitan: "Is that why I was born?"
Me: "To do chores?"
Eitan:
Me: "Must feel like that sometimes. But it could be worse."
Eitan:
Me: "You could be Rusty." (Rusty gnaws on his leg)

Roger Waters

I listen to Roger Water's "Comfortably Numb", as I have done many times since college , and it strikes me like a ton of bricks : I will never do something, anything, nearly as good.  I watched the film "The Wall" at a Midnight viewing at the Avon Cinema on Thayer St, Providence, Rhode Island, my freshman year of college : maximum impact.

In the movie, a large group consisting of Pink's manager , the hotel manager, paramedics, and roadies burst into Pink's hotel room to find an unconscious Pink sitting in a chair. As the paramedics try to revive Pink, his manager berates him, complaining about how he never liked him. The hotel manager does not take kindly to Pink's untidiness, but Pink's manager insists that "he's an artist". After injecting a drug into Pink's arm, the paramedics drag Pink out of the hotel and to his limousine.

He is then transported to a concert where he is scheduled to play. Flashbacks of Pink's childhood are inter-cut into the scene. In the flashback, a young Pink finds a wild rat and shows it to his overprotective mother. Her negative reaction towards the rodent causes Pink to hide the rat in a nearby shed. Pink later catches a fever that keeps him bed-ridden until the next morning. The next day, Pink returns to the shed only to find that the rat has died in his absence, forcing Pink to dump its lifeless body in a nearby river.

During this time, the drug causes Pink to hallucinate that his body is decaying. He sees himself as a child walking in a field in his room and touching his TV, then walking away. It then cuts to a scene where Pink explodes in a rage and tears up his hotel room. Upon being pushed into the limousine, Pink tears off his diseased shell to reveal a Nazi-esque attire (mostly from Wiki. Photo from the web)

Madeleine: "What kind of chameleon can I get?"

High

Now this is more like it. Pictured.

I run a loop of Richmond Park, 7 miles, something I have not done in maybe a year, prevented by injuries. Today, though, the cold numbs me and my heart works efficiently : bipity bipity bipity bip. The dog, joyous to be outside, with me and it is a resplendent late-morning : what better way to spend it ? And it strikes me : I am feeling high on life. Maybe it was yesterday's surgery or disappearing for three hours from the anaesthetics. Or now, a sunny day. Who knows : every day a miracle.

Eitan has a nightmare and screams for his life. Sonnet and I to him in a flash, hearts racing. I stay in his room until he falls back to sleep.

Small Ops

Easy in, easy out. I am at the Kingston Hospital NHS Trust for a microlaryngoscopy and excision of an anterior commissure lesion. In short, I have a polyp removed from my left vocal chord.

I first noted things not entirely right about four-months ago when my voice scratchy and often cracked , bringing back some awkward teen-age moments.  I thought it laryngitis. Within 48-hours of seeing my local GP , I meet the head of Kingston's Otolaryngology program, who gives me a local anaesthetic and jams a snake down my nose canal to look at my larynx. A most stressful experience. The polyp spotted - "There it is!" , the Dr exclaims with pleasure - and my surgery confirmed for two weeks.

This morning, before sunrise, Sonnet drives me to the hospital and fishes about for pocket change for the parking meter while I register with reception. I am visited separately by two nurses who check and double-check my identity and surgery and explain the procedure; The first applies a bar-code wristband and tapes my wedding ring , the only piece of jewelry I am allowed. Since I am going under , the anaesthetist James asks further questions about my health and etc. He has an intense , penetrating, stare, and tells me : "you are going to have a nice sleep".  My anxiety increases.

Soon I am told to strip to my pants and don a surgery dress and, with rolling bed , off we go to the operating theatre, which is a cold, modern room without shelves nor chairs. Yes, I am nervous. In the room's centre is some 21st century equipment hooked up to computers and lighting. I think: Gym equipment. There are five physicians, including James, who sticks a needle in my arm, covers my face with an Oxygen mask, and tells me to count to ten. I am gone at "four".

A tube put down my throat , to the side , to ensure Oxygen. Next, a laryngoscope inserted through my mouth on the right side and flipped to the left to trap and move then tongue , which otherwise blocks the the line of sight, then a blade inserted posterior to the epiglottis with an upwards and forward motion ("away from you and towards the roof " the Doc tells me beforehand). This move makes it possible to see my voice box. Once in, my polyp excised with a micro-blade.  Without the anaesthetic, my gag-reflex would not allow it, and I probably would have fled the room any how.

I awake at 12:50PM to Sonnet's sweet face looking over me, smiling.

Kodachrome and KCW

Poolside, 1967

Eitan's interview for Kings College Wimbledon "interesting", Sonnet notes. King's one of the UK's most prestigious and highest academically performing schools , historically and to date, coming in second in the country's league table of independent schools in 2010, with a high Oxbridge offer rate. Traditional rivals are Eton College, St. Paul's School and Westminster School. Our interest is the International Baccalaureate - King's offers the best in Britain . The Hampton School, where Eitan accepted, don't .  The last time a Sheen Mount kid went to  Kings College , like, three years ago.

So ... Eitan asked during his interview if he wants to go to Kings College and the .. boy .. says . his .. top .choice is Hampton . School.. I am not sure to pat him on the back and give him ice cream or strangle him like Bart Simpson.

Notes From Pakistan

Munir and Basharat Ali, Manager of a Spanish NGO working in Baltistan and Skardu areas in education sector on the KKH , pictured.

Munir reports: "Basharat was my student at Karakoram International University Gilgit. After completing his education he joined this NGO. I have travelled many times in Skardu, Hushe and Machlu araes where Basharat is working. He belongs to Machlu, a beautiful village on jeepable road to Hushe.

"Ray has travelled and trekked in this area in early nineties. In addition to its awe inspiring beauty, I have been greatly impressed by the crime free and peaceful society of Baltistan Region. It is the only region in Pakistan that never embraced any form of extremism or religious fanacticism. Whenever I travel in this region I feel a sense of security.

"Historically Baltistan has been more affiliated with Tibet than downcountry or India. Local people were followers of Budhism before converting to Islam. Their language is written in Tibetan script and still has a strong Tibetan influence in their culture. I saw a historical mosque in Machlu in 2008 that has a strong Tibetan architectural influence."

Snake In The Grass

And how far Fred Goodwin has fallen.

The British have been itching to blame the financial mess on somebody, anybody, and so Goodwin stripped of his Knighthood.  Goodwin , of course, the Chief Executive of Royal Bank of Scotland when the shit hit the fan.

From 2000 to 20008, Goodwin grew RBS into the world's largest company with assets of nearly £2 trillion, greater than British GDP.  He did so by aggressive lending and a large exposure to the US sub-prime market. A 2% reduction of the loan portfolio's value brought the house down, ka-BOOM.

In October 2008, Goodwin resigned as Chief Exec - a month before RBS announced a yearly loss of £24.1 billion, the largest annual loss in UK corporate history.  RBS nationalised with £45 billion of taxpayer and my money.  Adding insult to injury, Sir Fred's retirement package : £12 million.  In fairness, he will never work again. One hopes. (In another RBS pr stinker, RBS bankers received £950 million of bonuses in 2011 despite losing £1.1 billion for the year)

Personally , I think Goodwin should be allowed to keep his Knighthood. Goodwin made some bad calls, none worse than buying ABN AMRO at the peak of the market, but he did not break the law. He is not to blame for the UK recession nor the global financial collapse.

Giaco

Alberto Giacometti's 'Walking Man II", 1960, from a post card I pick up at the Kunsthaus in Zurich.

Scholar William Barrett in his book 'Irrational Man: A Study in Existential Philosophy' (1962), argues that the attenuated forms of Giacometti's figures reflect the view of 20th century modernism and existentialism that modern life is increasingly empty and devoid of meaning. "All the sculptures of today, like those of the past, will end one day in pieces... So it is important to fashion ones work carefully in its smallest recess and charge every particle of matter with life."

Eric has adopted the habit of our mutual friend Marc, collecting used copies and handing them out to people like Gideon's bibles.

Commiserable

Rusty in the park.

Stephan and Barbara+their three charming kids over for lunch and a (Rusty) walk in Richmond Park .  We catch up since the wedding.

Eitan: "Can I have some crisps?"
Me: "What's for dinner?"
Sonnet: "We're not having dinner. After such a big lunch."
Me: "I'm hungry."
Madeleine: "Me, too."
Sonnet: "How about sardines on toast?"
Eitan: "Blahk. I hate it."
Me: "Madeleine, how about if I give you twenty-pounds and you go to Waitrose and get us something from there."
Madeleine: "Yeah, right, Dad."
Me:
Madeleine: "You do owe me £20 you know."

Madeleine: "I cannot eat an entire tin of sardines.  It is disgusting." 


Madeleine: "Eitan!  You ate Uncle Anthony's sweets!"
Eitan: "I did not!"
Me: "It might not have been Eitan."
Madeleine: "Dad, how could you ?!"
Me: "Look - I will get you some more."
Madeleine: "They were my birthday present."
Me: "I'm sorry. They were just sitting there."
Madeleine: "Make it sweets, not chocolate."
Me:
Eitan: "Busted, Dad."

Sonnet: "So how was 'Revolution' last night?"
Kamila (our Czech au pair): "It was fine. There were a lot of people there."
Sonnet: "How old are they?"
Kamila: "They are a bit older, maybe 23-years old. .."
Sonnet: "Is that so ?"
Kamila: "There were two older women dancing. They were maybe 50."
Me:
Kamila: "It was disgusting."

Three Amigos

Marcus, Alex and Niki.

At the dinner table.
Me: "What did you watch in 'film club' this week?"
Madeleine: "Guess."
Me: "The Bride of Dracula? Godzilla? War Of The Planets?"
Madeleine: "Nope. 'An American In Paris.'"
Sonnet: "I love that movie. It is a classic."
Madeleine: "Accept that there is a lot of snogging."
Eitan: "Why do they have to always do that?"
Me: "Snogging? What's wrong with snogging?"
Eitan: "I am not having this conversation."
Me: "Is it Ok if I 'snog' your mom?"
Eitan, Madeleine: "No!"
Me: "What's wrong with that?"
Madeleine: "Do you even know what snogging is Dad?"
Me: "Um, kissing, isn't it?"
Madeleine: "Not just kissing."
Me: "Oh?"
Madeleine: "It's like long kissing."
 Me: "With tongue and stuff?"
Eitan: "La la la."


Walking to drama class.
Me: "So are there any 'snoggers' in Year Five?"
Madeleine: "No."
Me: "How about Year Six?"
Madeleine: "Huggers, not snoggers."
Me: "What, do they hug behind the bungalows?"
Madeleine: "No, in the middle of the play ground."
Me: "Who is it then?"
Madeleine: "I am only saying in general."
Me: "Were you, like, watching and taking notes?"
Madeleine: "I am not 'Harriet The Spy' Dad."
Me:
Madeleine: "Though I would be pretty good at spying if I wanted to."
Me: "I bet."

Pond Dipping

Madeleine's 10th birthday party sees us in Richmond Park for a bit of "pond dipping" and I have to hand it to the kid : she has planned everything from the themed invitation to creature-holding-buckets. Totally inspired.  Uncle Anthony joins us to keep me company.

Joan's Dress

Sonnet's exhibition, Ballgowns, up in May.  On display : 60 ballgowns , red carpet evening dresses and catwalk showstoppers , including Joan Collins' dress, designed for private parties, royal balls, state occasions and opening nights. Photo from the V& A.

We listen to the radio.
Madeleine: "That guy sounds like Woody Allen."
Me: "It is Woody Allen."
Madeleine: "I am amazing!"

Madeleine: "I miss Aneta."
Me: "She had a good year with us."
Madeleine: "I loved throwing water balloons on her when she wasn't looking."

Me: "I can't believe I turn 45 this year."
Madeleine: "Forty-five. Wow-w-w. I cannot  believe I am only turning 10."
Me:
Madeleine: "45 is my second luckiest number."
Me: "What's number-one?"
Madeleine: "Ten. I don't know why."
Me: "Those seem like good numbers."
Madeleine: "Yeah. When you add four plus five it is nine."
Me: "Yep."
Madeleine: "My age and your age."
Me: "In June. Let's not rush it kid."
Madeleine: "Will they ever add up? Your numbers and my age?"
Me: "Forty-seven."
Madeleine: "Four plus seven equals eleven."
Me: "That will work I think."
Madeleine: "Yep."

Kunsthaus Zurich

After morning meetings I have the day to my own so visit the Kunsthaus on Justin's recommendation. The museum owns one of the most important collections in Europe, gathered by the local Kunstverein, covering the Middle Ages to contemporary art, with an emphasis on Swiss art (that I mostly ignore). I hang out with Paul Klee, Miro, Georg Baselitz, Calder, Hans Richter, Bruce Naumen, Cy Twombly, Picasso.  Manet, Monet and Degas .. van Gogh. Pierre Bonard, Heinrich Fussli, Nicolae Bercham, Rubens, van Dyke and Edvard Munch and many more.

 

My favorite : Matisse's four female bronzes , which morph from undefined abstract to muscular high-definition. It takes a moment then, wham : there it is. I find joy in the Monet-Rodin gallery with the famous lily pads+seven-sculptures. Giacometti also in the house : a wing dedicated to his work including 'Walking Man."

While surrounded by it all, a young couple, pictured,  catches my eye : they are nervous and awkward with each other and I think: first-date. He explains to her how the paint is, like, really thick.  Body language offers further suggestions : they lean in to each other then give space. Yep, it's the way it goes.

Zug

Suisse

Zurich this morning, which reminds me of Versoix, 1983-84, catching the 6:14AM train to Geneva where I was picked up by Tony Ulrich, the coach of Geneve Natation, who drove me to Piscine Vernets for morning practice. Standing on the platform in the freezing cold and complete darkness, I watched the overhead Rolex clock . tick.. tick.. .tick the second hand with round red-circle went. 6:12AM,  train arrives. At 6:14AM, train departs.

Zurich a good station, too : cavernous, covering an entire city block, empty in the middle allowing passengers to run for their train or loiter. The best thing the young people : it is not often that I see them in their natural habitat- smoking , laughing, hanging out. Packs of them. Some with dyed or spiked hair; others like 1950s preppies. Piercings. Peg legs and converse or army boots. Always flirting. All good. It reminds me of that time in my life which was never fleeting then but now : is. And gone.

Not far from Zurich is Davos where 47-global leaders and the Good and the Great having a Pow Wow.  David leading several sessions ; unfortunately I cannot join him for dinner.

VER - KURD

I am with VER, also known as the State Pension Fund of Finland - picture taken from a conference window (The pension located at Mikonkatu 15 and I can envision Soviet tanks filling the plaza ; Russia a stone's throw east ). VER is external to the state budget (ie, Govt has no control over their investment decisions) and established in 1990 ; their long-term liabilities are aprox. €90 B while the investment portfolio mkt value is €20B. In short: they need returns, and so have invested with my friends in Paris and why I am with them today.

My driver , Schwarmi, picks me up from Terminal 3 : Radio 4 announces that Salman Rushdie's address to the Indian people, which has become a battle for freedom of speech, cancelled as a small bunch of religious zealots threaten violence. I ask Schwarmi what he thinks : "I am ashamed to be Muslim" he tells me.

Schwarma from Northern Iraq and a Kurd; his father had an import-export business in the 1960s which brought the family to London; Schwarmi immigrated 18-years ago (he is middle-age).  I ask if England racist ? "Never. I have always felt safe here." And : "I will never go back to Iraq. I returned once and it is the end. It is the uneducated who wish violence. It is always them." I ask if Iraqis hate Americans ?  "No. Iraqis love Americans. Northern Iraq is booming, there is lots of businesses. It is because the Americans and the British are there. Some Iraqis want the Americans to leave our country but I say - why? We should let them come here and stay. They have helped us. They have invested in Iraq."

Madeleine , nonchalantly, tells us over dinner that David Cameron at Saturday's paint-ball birthday party (confirmed by Alex's mum). Turns out Cameron's oldest about paint-balling age.

Kamp

Helsinki, for work.  Mikko and I have drinks at Hotel Kämp and, I learn, he and his girlfriend have bought a house.  Usually, as in usually in the UK or the US, one might get married first but "it is perfectly normal" in Finland for couples to extend their relationship into financial obligations before they tie the knot.  It is one of the many things I love about here : despite being a tiny inter-linked community there are freedoms quite different from elsewhere. It is also impossible to get decaffeinated coffee.

Mikko and the city a-buzzing about the Guggenheim's recent decision to build a museum on the Helsinki waterfront (estimated cost: €140M).  The city chosen for its tradition in art and design and its plans to develop the harbour properties. Otherwise, surprisingly, Helsinki lacks a significant modern art collection. The architect has yet to be chosen but I vote for Renzo Piano. 

One From The Sidelines

Phil, pictured, is the father of Alphie, the Elm Grove goal-keeper.  I often hear him growling from the sidelines. When Phil suggests I don't have permission to take his picture, I tell him I will put the photo above my bed.

Sutton United

The boy has had a busy week-end , sitting his final entrance exam - this time for Kings College Wimbledon., a fine looking school with a big church tower in the middle of an immaculate grounds. Given the rake 15 out of 300 testers, the odds against us.

That was Saturday and today it is Elm Grove vs. Sutten, a speedy team in the county Surrey.  They defeat us, 1-nil, but the score secondary to the quality of football : excellent. Elm Grove works together and the play tight and efficient.  Every other action seems to be a long-break off a half-field pass. The ref misses an obvious Sutten foul in our penalty-box and that was probably the difference in the match.  Eitan gets pushed around by the kid , pictured in yellow, who takes a number of cheap shots when the focus elsewhere. Eitan tells me : "I wasn't intimidated or anything. But it made me kinda angry."  That's football.

Madeleine, for her part, at Alex's all-day birthday party followed by a slumber party. Me: "How was the party?" Madeleine: "Fine." Me: "What did you guys do?" Madeleine: "Stuff."  24-hours in two words. And so it goes.

Swedish Connection

Bengt Baron (right) and Par Arvidsson , 1980

Baron a Swede who won the 100 m backstroke at the 1980 Moscow Olympics and a bronze in the 4×100 m freestyle relay in Los Angeles four years later. From 1979 to 1985 he won 33 Swedish titles. Like Arvidsson, he went to Cal to train with Nort Thorton and that is when I met him.

My senior year of high-school I swam with the Bears and, though Baron graduated a year or two before my time, he occasionally showed up for morning practise and we would huddle in the equipment shed dreading the shock of the outdoor pool at 6AM. Like most swimmers, he is tall - maybe 6'4'' and thin (Arvidsson, by contrast, a muscle-man so it takes all types).  Baron's arms hyper-extended at the elbow-joint which allowed him a better "grip" on the water. He was a formidable competitor.

After swimming Baron got an MBA from Berkeley in '88  then went to McKinsey & Co; from there, he joined a bunch of consumer companies including Coca-Cola and Kodak. In 2001, he was named CEO and President of Absolut Vodka.  Baron lived up to, and surpassed, his early promise. Neat guy.

Gastronomy

Sonnet in '93.

So today (or yesterday, anyway): we are to Paris to join David and Tabitha for a drink at the Bristol then dinner at Alain Passard's three-Michelin star gastronomic mecca : L'Aperge. Beforehand , David spends a few hours with Astorg talking about Europe. Of the many people I know who are invested in this part of the world, David understands it better than most. His access to top political leaders, economists and financiers allows him the complete picture: Wed night, for instance, he visits Francoise Hollande's economics team (Hollande, a socialist, may be the next President of France). Last week, it is Italy's Prime Minister Mario Monti. David makes me look like a million bucks with my French friends. And as for Europe's future : it is going to get darker before it gets brighter.

We begin dinner with an egg : de-capped and topped up with a lite foamy cream. Sublime. From there it is nine courses, including the cheeses , which cover langoustine from Loctudy, ormer from Brittany, sautéd soles, butter mousse, truffles, oignon doux gratin, parmigiano reggiano ... sarawak black pepper, beetroot with Guérande grey salt, aceto balsamico 25 years of age, mixed vegetables with herbs, a thousand flavours, Sautéd endive with nuts, bacon from Baden ... and on and on it goes, each plate accompanied by its own wine. Wow.

Madeleine comments on the egg: "Was it, like, rotten?"

Madeleine: "Why were you with David in Paris?"
Me: "He was talking to some friends about the European crisis . .."
Madeleine: "What?! There is a crisis?"
Me: "Yes, for some time now."
Eitan: "We have, like 100-billion pounds of debt. £200 billion, maybe."
Me: "A bit more than that."
Madeleine: "Why don't they just pay it back?"
Me: "It's a good idea but a  bit more complicated unfortunately."
Madeleine: "It's because it has been a failure."
Me:
Madeleine: "No offence to them."

Eitan: "Jay oon petty sur."
Me:
Eitan: Jay oon petty sur. Don't you know what that is?
Me: "No."
Eitan: "'I have a little sister.' "
Me: "Learning French in school I see."

Hell

John Martin's Arthur and Aegle in the Happy Valley based on an Arthurian legend of Aegle’s last night on earth. Pictured, from the Tate Britain collection.

Today is one of those collectives bummers shared by commuters. I am late from the house and it starts raining  (me, in suit, no umbrella). The train over-crowded and humid so I stand perspiring , jammed against a woman reading Farsi on her phone app, wishing the sweat down my back would go away. Wishing I was anywhere else. Each stop brings more people who implore us to "move in!" or "Move to the middle!" As, if.  I make eye contact with the blond and we are both equally uncomfortable when this happens for the fifth time. No pick-up scene, this. I have seen people yell at each other in similar circumstances.

By Clapham Jnct I consider ditching my first meeting. Vauxhall, where I finally exit , finds a 50-foot line to enter the Underground.  I see not one smiling face. Buying an umbrella at Victoria, I am told that I must spend ten-pounds to use my debit card. The purchase price : $9.75.  We actually discuss this. I add some shoelaces to my purchase. It is not 9AM.

Madeleine: "Did you know that it takes seven red ants to kill a butterfly?"
Me: "That's nice, Dear."

Little Red Box

The ubiquitous red booth. How soothing. How British. It is amazing to consider, then, that the first phone kiosks introduced by the Post Office in 1920 made of concrete.  The red telephone booth the result of a 1924 design-competition won by Giles Gilbert Scott , who originally suggested silver, with a "greeny-blue" interior.  By 1925, there were 1,000 red booths in the UK.  At the peak, in the mid-1990s, there were 95,000 red phone boxes.

Today, thanks to mobile phones, there are only 15,000 red kiosks left, of which 946 are in London. 2,400 of the phones are listed as heritage sites and therefore legally protected from removal. BT is the sole company that can provide the Scott phones from an agreement in 1996.

This friendly fellow snapped on Millbank Rd, bordering the north side of the Thames near Vauxhall Bridge.

"Middle age is when you're sitting at home on a Saturday night and the telephone rings and you hope it isn't for you."
--Ogden Nash

John Martin

We meet James and Emily for a late lunch then the Tate Britain to see the 'John Martin: Apocalypse" exhibition. Here is what the brochure says:

"Visionary, eccentric, populist and epic, John Martin was a controversial but key figure in nineteenth century art. Like his canvases, this wildly dramatic artist with his visions of heaven and hell, was larger than life.

"Organised in partnership with the Laing gallery, Newcastle, this is the first major exhibition dedicated to Martin's work in over 30 years. It brings together his most famous paintings of apocalyptic destruction and biblical disaster from collections around the world, as well as previously unseen and newly-restored works.

"Hugely popular in his time, Martin was derided by the Victorian Art establishment as a 'people's painter', for although he excited mass audiences with his astounding scenes of judgement and damnation, to critics it was distasteful. In a sense ahead of this time, his paintings - full of rugged landscapes and grandiose theatrical spectacle - have an enduring influence on today's cinematic and digital fantasy landscapes.

"This exhibition presents a spectacular vision, capturing the full drama and impact of John Martin's paintings as they were originally displayed. Just as in the nineteenth century, these epic and often astounding works must be seen to be believed."
--Tate Britain

Annabel's And Tramps

It is cold morning and the pitches frozen so the Elm Grove v. Suten United cancelled and we get a needed lie-in following a late-night of dining and dancing with Natalie and Justin at Annabel's : think long legs , tarty dresses and hedge fund money.  All good.

Annabel's founded in 1963, when Brit entrepreneur John Birley decided he needed somewhere to party after an evening's gambling. As a result, he turned the basement of Aspinall's casino, the Clermont Club, into a nightclub, and named it after his then wife, Annabel. It was the first of its kind: a member-only nightclub that catered to an exclusive clientele, including The Prince of Wales, Camilla Parker-Bowles, The Princess Anne, Richard Nixon, Aristotle Onassis and Frank Sinatra. Entertainers who have played there include Tina Turner, Ray Charles, Ella Fitzgerald, Diana Ross and Lady Gaga. The sumptuous interior was originally designed by Birley and since updated by Birley's daughter India Jane (source: wiki).  Don Draper would be right at home.

Me: "How does it feel to be in the front seat?"
Madeleine: "Ok, I guess. But what if I get killed?"
Me: "Let's hope not."
Madeleine: "I mean by the air bag. Aren't kids supposed to sit in the back so they don't get killed by the air bag ?"
Me: "Your big enough now so I don't think we have to worry."
Madeleine:
Me: "Here, help me unload this junk from the back."
Madeleine: "This would be a good place for a tramp."
Me: "Oh?"
Madeleine: "Lots of used mattresses and stuff."
Me: "I suppose you're right."
Madeleine: "Are there lots of tramps ?"
Me: "I don't know. What makes you think of that?"
Madeleine: "I was just thinking it would be lonely to be a tramp and not having a home to go to."
Me: "Probably so."

A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Votes

( I was unable to source this photograph ).

Richmond Morning

The moon sets over 'two storm forrest' in Richmond Park near the Sheen Gate entrance. Shot with a Canon 7D, 1:2.8 77m lens.

Madeleine: "Dad can I have some of those Doritos?"
Me: "For breakfast?"
Madeleine: "Yeah, so?"
Me: "What kind of a parent would I be if I let you eat Doritos for breakfast?"
Madeleine: "A good one."

Team Madeleine

Madeleine sits the 10+ exam for the Emmanuel school.  Sonnet drops her off on the way to work.  Madeleine has been working hard and, as I tell her, the results don't matter : it is the preparation that we are proud of (Ps: the results matter).

The Night Of Long Knives

I am with Astorg last night, treated to a cooking lesson by Alain Ducasse at his culinary master home, Le Parc, in the 16th arrondisment.  Ducasse the first chef to have a Michelin three-star restaurant in three cities : Paris, London and New York .  His restaurant at the Dorchestor the ultimate power play, if you can get a reservation , and willing to pay a couple hundred quid for a meal. We separate into groups with our razor sharpened blades and  slice onions, peel and gut crustaceans, chop onions and prepare a boulibase; the other group responsible for the meats and sauces. We dine on our making with excellent wines, coffees and petit four.

This is my second three-Michelin stars with Astorg in the last ten months : the other being the wonderful "Le Petie Nice" by Gerald Passedat.  How delicatessen.

"The best way to execute French cooking is to get good and loaded and whack the hell out of a chicken. Bon appétit."
--Julia Child

Early Days, My Love

Sonnet in 1993 at Lake Alpine - we had been dating maybe three months.  How lucky I am to to see her face every day.

Here is what we get on BBC 3 prime time television: "How Sex Works - The First Time.  This episode seeks to understand what's going on in our minds and bodies on the road to losing our virginity and to find out just what happens when we fall in love."  As, if.

Italian near-term bonds at 7.13% when I checked today - above the 7% considered unsustainable leading pundits to squawk : "downward death spiral" !  Compare this to Germany, which sold six-month notes with a yield of minus 0.0122%, the first time a national money-market instrument offered a negative yield.  Think about that one for a moment.

Skype, Dude

Welcome to the 21st Century, about five years late, but hey , here we are, video con-fer-enc-ing. Katie gets us going and takes this photograph.

Sunday Catch Up

Madeleine hides behind the coach. Eitan fixates on Manchester United vs. Manchester City. Sonnet tidies up the kitchen and I blog. Yep, Sunday evening.

It follows a busy day, too : Eitan's Elm Grove draw 1-1 against Kingstonian Youth then we drive madly across Southwest London to join Sonnet and Madeleine at the Surrey swimming championships qualifier.  Eitan picks up the 200m freestyle (2:32) and 50m freestyle (32.36) and Madeleine competes the 200m freestyle in 3:46 and competes in 50m backstroke, 50m breast stroke, 50m freestyle (times to come). Even the dog gets a run in, I am happy to oblige. 

Thursday night sees us at The River Cafe, with Jim and Peri then Bath for Tabitha and David's 12th night party which is a well-oiled machine from the excellent wine to Swedish meatballs. The guests are always entertaining and Sonnet and I stay at Claridges, a local B&B where we have been before.

Man U > Man City, 3-2

Frank Horwill, MBE, 1927-2012

Frank Horwill, who I met on the Battersea track in 1998 preparing for the '98 London Marathon, passed away from stomach cancer on January 1st.   He was a gentle man and remarkable coach - our paths crossed again in '03 and '05 when I was training for various half-marathons. He always had a friendly smile, a few words of advice and a stop watch around his neck.

The Times remarks :  "Horwill played a vital role in the world dominance of British middle-distance running in the 1980s.  In that decade, British athletes held world records from the 800 through to the 5,000 meters and, at one point, claimed every leading global 1,500 metre title.  Sebastian Coe was the Olympic champion, Steve Cram was world champion, Steve Ovett held the European crown and Dave Moorcroft the Commonwealth title.  All were  members of the British Milers' Club, which Horwill founded in 1963 when British middle-distance was in the doldrums."

"We've only just begun to work."
--Frank Horwill