JBEGnews

Sun!

2010-03-07T09:42:00.000-08:00

There is sun! real, live sun and something that might well be grass poking through. No croci yet, but I am starting to believe they are coming at last.

Plus, Eli won the "What African American History Means to Me" contest for the 7th grade in Ohio and got a laptop (hey!!). Here he is with the other winners from Clintonville Academy and their amazing Social Studies teacher, Kim Rosenbaum.

And Gideon has some terrific new pieces to share, including a "stained glass" portait of Mowgli and a very German expressionist piece entitled 3 Faces

Too much!

2010-02-21T13:18:00.000-08:00

Too much has been going on in the last couple of weeks to write about: the kids have been in school for a total of about 3 days this month thanks to the snowiest February anyone can remember. But we escaped for a delicious and perfect weekend in L.A. visiting Michael and Stephen, who took us to Bouchon for the best meal we have ever had (which turns out to be a vastly superior thing to the "snowiest winter we have ever had") and to visit the set of Glee and tour the Paramount lot. And they let us swim in King Henry VIII's pool and look at his huge mirror. We even squeezed in a trip to the beach and to the Museum of Jurassic Technology. Perfect, and just what the doctor ordered before returning (just in time) to still more snow.

What else... Hmmm. Well, on Friday we got to see Porgy and Bess at the Southern, an absolutely amazing production and the kids' first opera (Gideon is in love). It was an especially nice celebration as we had just received the news that both boys had received awards in their respective essay contests, Gideon's on "freedom" and Eli's on African American history month. Readings and ceremonies to follow. And celebratory sushi with Bubbe and Papa when they return from the desert. Saturday Gideon and the Cougar's fought valiantly in the field for an hour and then Gideon went off to art class to work on figure drawing. Some new pics by the young master here:

And the whole of JBEG is grooving on season 6 of Lost and the first 7 volumes of 20th Century Boys. Basically, life, as always, is pretty darned awesome. Except for bills and cleaning the toilets, but still...

A snowy day, and Frederick Douglass

2010-02-06T16:21:00.000-08:00

Snowed in for the weekend, building sad, short-lived snowmen. Check out the short, happy life of Tilty, the Snowman. And Gideon, inspired by his reading of Douglass's Narrative, did a portrait in the great man's honor.

Beth runs!

2009-09-06T11:22:00.000-07:00

B ran her first 5K today for MoveMMORE and she finished 4th in her agegroup! 'Cause she is totally awesome. To see video of the action check out http://gallery.me.com/jphewitt#100191

J is quite certain that there will be half-marathons in our near future.

Congratultions to Steve and Nancy for such a marvellous event! If they would just set up an eliptical machine for J next year at the starting gate, he can participate, too!

The JBEG Parenting Manual Part 1

2009-08-12T19:09:00.000-07:00

Not finding what you are looking for in What to Expect...? Well, we here at JBEG Inc are working on our own parenting manual sure to be a hit this holiday season. For instance, tonight one of the parents (not me) said to one of the kids (not me), in response to an endless stream of insufferable questions (demands) as to what was going to happen tomorrow (and I quote): "What is most likely to happen tomorrow is that I am going to take a huge S*** on your face." Yes, these and other sure-fire tips for fine-ass parenting will be yours in the JBEG Parenting Manual (patent pending).

Deep Fried Fat

2009-08-03T13:14:00.000-07:00

Try as we might to track down the piece de resistance of American obesity, we could not purchase any deep fried fat. Yes, deep fried macaronic & cheese, deep fried mash potatoes, loaded nachos, deep fried ravioli, pork sandwiches as big as your head were ubiquitous. But no where could JBEG find deep fried lard on a stick. Still we braved the sun and the screaming and made the rounds with Bubbie and Papa (their first midwestern state fair ever!) to see the pregnant cows (Eli even tried milking one), the butter sculpture, the beautiful animals (J & B are pretty sure we are never eating meat again), the hucksters trying to fill Billy May's shoes, and B. had her yearly chat with the man from the maple producers. E & G went on enough rides to justify their wristbands until Gideon exited "Crazy Plane" dizzy and nauseous. B bravely did the free fall drop all by her lonesome (why is her family so chicken??) and then she followed in Gideon's vertiginous footsteps after the Yoyo with Eli. Oh, State Fair, why do you tempt us with your foul ways?

JBEG on display

2009-04-05T14:22:00.000-07:00

Gideon finally got better just as Bubbe and Papa were pulling into town in their big yellow truck. Summoning all sorts of superhero unpacking strength, we unloaded after only 1 1/2 days, and thus they were able to lunch with Gideon in honor of his Good Citizen Award. Jared made it through his first week of classes, teaching 170 students, thereby proving that he too deserves a good citizen award and medal. Then today Eli summoned up all kinds of courage (not to mention talent) to play both oboe and piano at the Young Musicians Competition. He was brilliant and gorgeous and somehow didn't even lose it, even when he walked through the door to discover he was on the stage of a 500-person auditorium (nor did he seem furious at my evident betrayal, since I told him he would be playing in a little room in front of some kindly old ladies). Now we've got to celebrate with some JBEG subterfuge . . . .

And then there were two . . .

2009-03-30T19:00:00.000-07:00

on antibiotics. Or two not on antibiotics, depending on how you look at it. G. joined J. on the penicillin bandwagon today after day 4 of hot burning fever. Eight hours after first dose the giggles began. This proved a marvelous garnish for dinner time conversation as Eli likes nothing more than hearing his brother belly laugh (and especially after seeing him so low for so long). Thus we received choice commentary inregarding the sexual precocity of infants in 1000 B.C. I can still hear them laughing upstairs now while we drink tea and J. prepares for Day One. I am likewise counting down, but with an entirely different sensibility.

JBEG doctors our books

2009-03-28T11:46:00.000-07:00

B & J have been struck by our annual, we need to organize the books bug. It is an itch that we never want to scratch, since the process is a bit of a rush hour puzzle . . . if we move this, then we need to move this, and then we need to find a place for this, which blocks this, etc. But the stacks of comics were only getting higher and harder to navigate . . . so we began the mighty task. Surprisingly in the midst of this, J. did not ask, "who doesn't want the kindle now??" E & G have wisely decided to lay low on this particular venture. Gideon is permanently parked in front of his new drawing table (which actually started this frenetic bureaucratic reorganization of the house, since it introduced new matter into the tight geometry of our house). In fact, we're pretty sure he willed himself into a fever yesterday so he could stay home and draw. Eli has coaxed him away to read the Rick Geary Classic Comics version of Great Expectation. Thank god it is a library copy, so I don't have to identify a space for it on the shelves . . . .

Dad gets a haircut

2009-03-26T09:29:00.000-07:00

Otherwise, a day of grading, syllabus prep, book-writing, and a massive enchilada pie as a reward. Oh, and we rearranged our living room to make room for G's new drawing table (more on that tomorrow).

JBEG coming home to roost

2009-03-23T08:50:00.000-07:00

Eli at the studio in LA

The delinquency continues, since I was supposed to write about Eli's hobnobby weekend in L.A. littered with delightful phonecalls "Have you ever been to the Newman Sound Stage? Have you ever had toro? Have you ever sat in a professional orchestra while they played? Have you ever had squab with foie gras? Have you ever driven around Hollywood in a jaguar" to which the answer was always no. I ought to have written about JBEG's travels to the beautiful and expensive Bermuda, where E&G met the Premiere and J & E supped on Bacardi's generosity. And then I was to record our brief jaunt to Kentuck to see the Boys, eat spring lamb and buy a ton of flour. But after these solid weeks of break-neck run around--in which J. wrote about 40,000 words and Eli flew about 10,000 miles--we are gonna try to get our business together. Witness: the car is finally fixed; we have a door on our house; and the pantry will soon not be bare.

Another Calamity Day

2009-01-28T13:23:00.000-08:00

ice storm, again {sigh}

In what is shaping up to be the Worst Winter Ever we all stayed home, because all schools were closed (including OSU). Of course, J. teaches T Th so the snow day gave him precisely nothing (save for less time today, since he had to shovel a driveway). Eli & Gideon pined to help their parents while shoveling the driveway, and I rewarded them by taking them over to their Bubbie and Papa's to help me shovel out their house. They soon learned that shoveling is not an activity that should ever compel desire, as we spent the next 2 hours shoveling 8 inches of a remarkably heavy 7-8 inch slush-ice-snow mixture. We made it home somehow without requiring any EMTs and now save for the fact that B. can hardly move a muscle, all is good. It is good because we are inside. Inside is dry and has heat. Outside is never good, unless you are watching it through a window. I think we can all agree to this principle. In any case E & G agree that playing in the snow is, "vastly overrated."

President Obama

2009-01-20T14:58:00.000-08:00

Today was surreal . . . we all did our daily things in daily mundane fashion even as it was also the best day ever. This morning driving to school, J. complained that it was 9 degrees and Eli rightly said, "Who cares. We have President Obama." B. and G. were able to watch all the pomp and circumstance (G. at school, and B. through cnn facebook feed and fuzzy network). Poor J. had to miss it for classes and graduate student mock interviews. Poor E. had to miss the address for, can you believe it, bowling. I will quote him again: "I miss history. Why? For Bowling. For Bowling for f**** sake." These obstacles aside, we are still, as G. said when he greeted me after school, "under President Obama." Best. Day. Ever.

Belligerent and Annoying

2009-01-19T10:46:00.000-08:00

more innocent days {sigh}

Wintertime is taking its toll in the form of B. teaching G. what the term "belligerent" means (to describe Gideon's grumpy tone) and B. instructing E. (very belligerently ) as to the extreme annoyance of a child sucking on a deflated balloon animal next to her while she is attempts to transcribe 18th century handwriting and figuring out add line numbers to microsoft word documents. I also indentured Eli to the candlemaker, J. for 11 years. This somehow does not seem the appropriate way to celebrate Martin Luther King Day. We did, however, watch the speech, ate greens and will read Martin's Big Words.

Deep Freeze Geography

2009-01-15T13:20:00.000-08:00

JBEG is trying to decide which is most (or least) pleasant: 0 degree or 100 degree weather. We are undecided as we really experience our 5 degree day. In the midst of the frigid temperatures and what was yesterday the platonic snowflakes (and is now disgusting heaps of frozen gray slush), Eli did the family proud, placing third in his school's National Geographic Geography Bee. He was a little disappointed they didn't ask about mountain ranges in Mongolia and rivers in India, focusing questions on the domestic front. I have one: what is the average temperature in January in Columbus, OH? Answer: it should not be 5 degrees.)

Back in Business

2009-01-11T07:56:00.001-08:00

After a long hiatus, JBEG is getting our public digital museum in order. After all, what other domestic unit has so much love for digital collections, literal museums and so little love for privacy? We may live in squalor, but we will have a historical record of selfsame. Today is work day: e.g. stay home, read, fold, cook, clean, study, write. In sum, the best day ever!

Oh, Man: We're Leaving Today and I Forgot to Write Up Two Weeks! (part 2)

2008-08-18T16:31:00.000-07:00

Continuing my quick rewind through the last two weeks as we fly across the Atlantic:

August 7: Our first full day with Myrna and Jack visiting, we went to the Globe to see our third production at the Globe. And it was the best of the three-- a completely over-the-top production of Timon of Athens, complete with feces and cannibalism and acrobatics. Amazing, and a very different production than the first two: using the open stage in a much more modern way. Afterwards, we walked along the river and then up toward the Seven Dials to dine on mussels and frites.

August 8: We visited Southwark Cathedral, which was glorious. We had passed it so many times in our walks around the Southwark area and it was every bit as beautiful inside as out. The kids then went with Myrna and Jack to visit St. Paul's while B and I had some funny tasting soda on the steps. We then made a horrible mistake and went to visit the Natural History Museum. A beautiful Victorian building but packed with mobs of Italians and cretinous other Europeans all on their first week of vacation, and within an hour in the place we were all having panic attacks. Fortunately, the V&A was right next door, so we ducked over and enjoyed the quiet and beauty of our favorite place in London. Eli got to explore the Architecture room, and Gideon devoured the jewelry and a good time was had by all.

August 9: Today was the big day, especially for the boys: Warwick Castle! Unfortunately for Gideon, who was looking forward to it more than all of us combined, he woke up sick as a dog with a screeching fever. To make matters worse, it was going to pour all day. But nothing would dissuade the young warrior, and so we headed off on the train to the Castle, a mashup of English Heritage and Madame Toussault's, with all the pleasures of both. Despite the rain and despite poor Gideon vomiting every hour in a coke cup that he carried everywhere with him, along with his broad sword, we had a great, if exhausting time. We even got to see a real joust in the rain, and a battle with flaming maces and groin kicks!

August 10: All of us needed a quieter day after the muds of Warwick, especially Gid who was still cranking the fever, so we stayed closer to Greenwich, visiting the Maritime Museum, stopping for a pint at the Richard I, and then home for a feast of Goddard's pies with mash and gravy.

August 11: Gideon is feeling better, and just in time because the boys are off with Myrna and Jack to Henry VIII's palace at Hampton Court. They saw the kitchen, chatted with Anne Bolyn, and successfully extricated themselves through the maze. A perfect day! Meanwhile, back at the ranch, B & J went clothes shopping, with the happy excuse of a big fundraising shindig for the University that Beth had to attend the next night at some snooty London club. We all finished the day with fish and chips and beer in front of the Olympics (except Eli, who is sick of fish and chips and had a kebab instead).

August 12: Today we had to say goodbye to Myrna and Jack, who are off to pick up a car and drive around the countryside seeing lots of amazing things. We then met up with the students and their instructor for the week, Malene, to visit the portrait gallery to work on finding inspiration for a dramatic monologue. It was a great project, so we decided to play too and worked on a monologue entitled "Pepys in the Tower" inspired by the portrait of Pepys from 1666 and imagining him looking at it while imprisoned in the Tower 13 years later. Then we went across to visit the National Gallery, which we all agreed was simply divine. We then had to say goodbye to B for the evening while she went off to talk to rich folks and chaperone the students who were eager to try on their dresses and meet rich folks. The boys had a night in, watching movies and waiting for B to return to us, which she did, safe and sound (and a bit drunk, since there turned out to be no food at the rich folks' shindig).

August 13: Even though we all knew better, we decided it was time to do the proper thing and see the Changing of the Guard. Almost immediately we were longing for the relative calm and tranquility of the Natural History Museum. But we got to see enough to satisfy Gideon's love of the pomp and fuzzy hats, and then we made a quick escape into St. James Park and took much-needed recourse in the waterfowl and trees. It felt so good to be in the park we ended up spending a lot of time walking around it and decided to then keep walking all the way town to the Tate Britain, where we had a great lunch and then walked through the galleries from the Tudor and Stuarts through the Nineteenth Century, rediscovering the decadent joys of the Pre-Raphaelites once again (and now old enough, and young enough, to feel no shame). We then walked back to Westminster where we got caught in a storm, catching a train to Lewisham for Tesco to do our mammoth shopping for the Thursday party with the students.

August 14: In the morning we went to join the students at their last class. Everyone read their monologues, and the level of the work (and the nervousness) was quite impressive. It was a fairly moving end to the summer studies for all, and then we raced home to begin prepping for the final bash at our flat--our biggest yet, with 26 people eating and drinking in our living room made for three. It was a nice way to say goodbye to all.

August 15: It was time to make the long-intended pilgrimage to the Bank of England Museum, followed by a lunchtime concert of Messiaen and Bach at St. Martin-in-the-Field. Somehow still having energy at the end of all that, we headed over to the British Library to see their Treasures exhibit, which made Eli mad with ecstasy--something about seeing the original handwriting of Shakespeare, Beethoven and John Lennon, all of it topped off with the Magna Carta itself, almost proved too much for the young lad. But he made it through without exploding, and we skipped all the way home (well, as much as London rushhour would allow).

August 16: All but stranded in Greenwich with the DLR and the Jubilee line down, we hopped on the 188 bus and took it all the way to Russell Square for one last visit to the British Museum: a farewell tour of the mummies, followed by a discovery of the unbelievable Chinese and Indian collections. Then we took the very very long bus ride home, and went out to dinner at the Greenwich Union to begin the weeklong celebration of Gideon's birthday (the food was actually fairly sad, but Gideon at least had a lovely plate of cod and chips and B and I had lots of beer, so no one was complaining).

August 17: Our last day in the U.K., it was time to pack, run some errands, but mostly to play a marathon session of Civilization IV. After six weeks of marveling at the glories of civilizations past, we were ready to build our own and we did pretty well too. And for the first time, we got B totally hooked with us, so there was no one to tell us when to come up for air. I'm sure many proper travelers would disapprove, but for us it seemed the perfect end to a perfect voyage. And to make it all the more perfect, we capped it off with one last round of Goddard's pies.

August 18: The long trip home, which is now coming to its end (I am sitting in the Philadelphia airport as I finish this, waiting for our final leg to Columbus, where we will rediscover proper beds, central airconditioning, dining room tables, late night coffee shops, and many other comforts which we have sorely missed these past six weeks). It has been unbelievably exhausting, expensive, and we loved every single minute of it. Now... on to the next adventure (this one, I suspect, will involve a god named Cratos).

Oh, Man: We're Leaving tomorrow and I Forgot to Write Up Two Weeks! (part 1)

2008-08-17T11:44:00.000-07:00

All of which means, of course, we've been having fun-- but also having visitors, illness, minor tragedies among our charges etc. That, and the fact that we recently rediscovered our love of Civilization IV. So, as we prepare for the long flight home, I will try and offer a fast-forward account of the last two weeks of our summer in London.

August 2nd: A rainy Saturday and after our day in Stratford, we decided to have a quiet afternoon around Greenwich to save up energy for our big night out at the Old Vic to see Pygmalion. We had front-row seats, right up against the old floorboard that we stomped across by greats from Kean to Olivier. It was enough of a treat just being there, but the production was also fantastic. Eli was quite shocked by the ending (not at all, of course, what My Fair Lady had promised), and Gideon was starstruck and wanted to stalk outside the stagedoor hoping to catch the actors coming out. It was a lovely evening.

August 3rd: On Sunday, we gave up waiting for the rains to stop and headed out to the Wellington Arch to see what we could see (not much, as it turned out). More interesting was the visit to the old Wellington manse at Aspley House, which displayed quite an obsession with the man Wellington defeated (including a very large nude statue of the very small general). It was a fascinating place, but it was here that Eli was able to finally articulate his growing feelings of anger and depression in rich people's mansions. We decided to make this our last grotesque display of imperial decadence (and for the rest of us who like our decadence imperial, it was a nice way to end our month-long tour).

August 4th: On Monday we headed to Canterbury, and we had a great time reading the General Prologue of the Tales on the train ride out. We decided it was time to do something tourist-trappy for the kids (and their parents), so we began the day in Chaucer's city at the marvelously tacky (and really run-down) "Canterbury Tales," an audio tour with wax works (most of which looks as if they were made out of chewed up crackers). Sad and ugly as it sounds, it was really fun: especially the way the tales were completely out of sync with the "special effects." After some really, really fine fish and chips, we then headed into the distant past at Augustine's Abbey, the ruins of the first Christian abbey in England founded by St. A himself. B and I had been there 15 years ago, and it was lovely to walk through the ruins and rest by the walls (our rest somewhat interrupted by the barbaric children urinating on various monk's tombs: if you ever here a Brit talking about how well behaved English children are, send them my way). We then visited the Cathedral to stand on the spot where Becket died and look up at one of the most beautiful sweeping gothic canopies in the universe. A lovely end to the day, we headed home (but not before stopping at a Shepherd Neame pub for a round of Bishop's Fingers).

August 5th: We went to visit the London Museum, only half of which is opened in the midst of a massive renovation project. Walking around the Barbican area we were stalking in the footsteps of Shakespeare's old haunts on Silver Street and the ruins of Roman London were everywhere underfoot (and the remains of the old Roman walls were right there before us). The Museum itself is a real treat, even in its diminished state, offering an amazing historical tour of the city from prehistoric times through the Fire. Especially striking was the huge leap backwards England went through after Rome took off: for the cultured Londoners it must have been a real shock to go from Roman mosaics and spices to Saxon clubs-on-heads and mud pies. I'm not sure England ever really recovered, truth be told. In the afternoon we came back home to have tea with one of our students who had had a trauma on the Greenwich pier (her laptop was stolen right out of her hands as she was working on a paper) and to clean up the house for Jack and Myrna's arrival the next day.

August 6th: We headed down to the Waterloo Station to meet the students for a tour of the National Theatre. For the first time, the students were running late, starting the feel the wear of the month. As a result we almost missed our tour, but made it just in time. The National Theatre complex was a revelation: three completely different theaters within one compound—a veritable theatrical city under one roof, with all the workshops, rehearsal spaces, shops etc within the citadel. We were sad not to have seen Revenger's Tragedy during its run, but by all accounts the production was a bit much for the young 'uns. Next time, we will make sure we get a chance to attend a production there, however. After the tour, we walked to Charing Cross in hopes we might connect with Jack and Myrna, but then we worried we had missed them in transit and instead headed back to Greenwich to meet them. They arrived safe and sound that afternoon and we celebrated with a walk around Greenwich and a visit to the Painted Hall and the Park and, of course, the pub—the Richard I, which quickly became our favorite in town. Then it was time to rest up for another crazy week.

(to be continued)

Upon Stratford (upon-Avon)

2008-08-02T02:44:00.000-07:00

We love the trains in Britain and perhaps more than anything else we will miss taking trains (even when they are full of drunken slaterns). So we settled in yesterday morning for what promised to be a lovely 2 hour trainride out to Stratford-upon-Avon to fulfill our mission of being the geekiest and most predictable English major tourists possible (in our younger years, in earlier visits to London, of course, such a thing was unthinkable... now it is simply divine). About 40 minutes in, however, the train stopped in some middle-of-nowhere town (Pimple-upon-Hack I believe it was) and we were told to disembark. Years of such moments traveling by air in the U.S. had prepared us for the inevitable disappointments: day ruined, long queues to try and get money back, and severely disinterested employees. But even as we were steeling ourselves for the hours of trying to get back to London, those stiff-upper-lippers were springing into action. One constitutionally helpful gentleman rounded up all the Stratford folk and began taking headcounts while another went off to work through a plan with the station manager. Before I had even finished spelling out my own time-tested gloom-and-doom scenario for the kids, these Brits had us all on another train headed for Something-or-Whutknot where we would be met by coaches to drive us in to Stratford. No wonder these people survived the Blitz! So much of the general sense of the English from Stateside is absurdly wrong: far from more polite they are often boorish and pushy; they can be loud in a way Americans would never dare; and they binge drink to put our undergrads to shame. But when it comes to stepping up when the going gets tough, that is clearly deep in their fibres (note the spelling!) in a way Americans will never know.

The result was that despite our train being taken out behind the station and shot (no tears, mate!), we made it to Stratford only 10 minutes behind schedule. And grateful we were. We headed off directly to the Shakespeare Centre to see the Birthplace, expecting huge crowds and a garrishly touristy experience and we were pleasantly surprised by relatively tame swarms and a tasteful, educational exhibit and house tour. And the kids (and their parents) were genuinely excited to be walking in the man's footsteps, pissing in his pot and all that. Anything that Shakespeare potentially touched, looked at, or walked on was an especial thrill for Eli. After the birthplace, we walked to Hall's Croft, the home of Shakespeare's daughter and son-in-law, a successful early-17th-century physician. And then on to Trinity Church to see the grave (and to marvel at the magnificent 15th-century misericords in the choir, which must surely have delighted young Will with their strangely secular and fantastical imagery. Finally, we made the long walk out of town to Anne Hathaway's Cottage, the childhood home of Shakespeare's wife, inheritor of his second-best bed. It was a beautiful pastoral end to the day, and we relaxed in the gardens (strangely alone, since the tourists couldn't be bothered to make the 1 mile walk, apparently). After walking back into town, we realized we were starving and grabbed the first pub dinner we could find and settled in for a table full of delicious ale, bangers and mash, and shepherd's pie. We have learned a couple of lessons, and so we grabbed a table in the Quiet Coach and settled in with our books for a sleepy ride home—this time happily without incident.

Theatre and Markets

2008-08-01T01:20:00.000-07:00

On Wednesday after a glorious day of lounging around, jamming on the practice chanters and playing Civilization, we headed out to join the students at the Royal Court Theatre in Chelsea to see Gone Too Far,

by first-time playwright (and already an Olivier winner!) Bola Agbaje. I must confess I wasn't looking much forward to it, expecting from the accounts in the reviews, a fairly didactic afterschool special about cultural pride and urban violence. But the play turned out to be witty, smart and energetic beyond belief. We were all dazzled by it, and by the young cast who really were splendid. Afterwards we stayed for a Q&A with the cast and author which was incredibly lively (especially when compared to the somewhat turgid affair at the Globe after Merry Wives) and the audience clearly wanted to keep arguing about the issues (knife violence being very much in the news of late) long after the cast had any energy left. The kids were in love with the whole London theatre scene and were absolutely starstruck when they walked outside the theatre and saw much of the cast hanging out and chatting with fans and friends (Gideon even got an autograph from the star).

Officially theatre-junkies now, we headed out in Thursday morning to the Old Vic to see if we could find any tickets for Pygmalion, which had just been extended for another week after a very successful run. We were in luck (double luck, as it turned out, as the kids got cheaper tickets for being under 25), and on Saturday we will be sitting in the front row! We then walked over to the Borough Market to explore the foodie goodness, which was very good indeed. Piles of beautiful fish, Turkish delight and burnt sugar candies, olives of every imaginable variety, and produce so fresh it was still crying for its mother. The kids ate baskets of berries and washed it down with fresh pressed cider and we headed home to prepare piles and piles of tea sandwiches for the students, who were, as always, a delight to have over even in our far from ample entertaining space.

Today we are off to Stratford-upon-Avon to indulge fully in the touristic delights of our summer of Shakespeare (Gideon is in search of a Shakespeare action figure). There is a slight chance of rain. It's a hard life, ain't it?

Houses and Collections

2008-07-30T05:33:00.000-07:00

Michael left us on Monday, but before he did we visited the Ranger's House here in Greenwich, which houses a remarkable and despicable collection of antiquities and Renaissance porcelains and bronzes collected by a diamond merchant from the monies earned from his ill-gotten spoils in South Africa. Gideon was blown away by the ivory miniatures, the reliquaries, and the altar pieces and could not believe that there weren't versions of each piece available for him to take home in the gift shop. Fortunately, there was ice cream (most desperately needed as it is now very hot in London and the miracle of air conditioning has not yet arrived on this island nation), so the disappointment was ameliorated somewhat.

After seeing Michael off for what was to be a brutal 11-hour flight back to LA, we raced off to the Docklands Museum to meet the students who were visiting the slavery exhibit in conjunction with their week on postcolonial London. Well, "race" would not be an accurate term, as the DLR (Docklands Light Railway) was down once again, so we walked under the Thames through the tunnel conveniently built around 1904 to bring workers in to the warehouses that once dominated the east London landscape. The museum was as always a treat, and we were glad we found our way there as their instructor had dropped them off to go drinking, leaving us to once again launch into impromptu tag-team lectures as we led about half of the students through the museum (where the other half went, we had no idea but likely they took a lead from their teacher and found a pub to contemplate the legacy of slavery over a few pints). The students who were with us were lovely and were rewarded for their pains with boxes of Cadbury cakes bestowed on them by museum staff for reasons not entirely clear to anyone (but no one complained). Afterwards, we took a long walk home across the Docklands and back under the Thames and home, loaded down with groceries from the upscale grocery at Canary Wharf, and we feasted on tortellinis and salad at home.

Tuesday we slept in and had a quiet morning at home (not knowing how to do that sitting thing, I took to the streets and walked aimlessly around Greenwich for a couple of miles just to keep my legs busy). We then followed our Pathfinder Beth deeper into the wilds of southeast London to visit Eltham Palace, the childhood haunt of Henry VIII and, more recently, the art deco home of some more very rich people, although these seemed to have earned their fortunes through textiles and used that fortune to support the arts as well as hoard it. As Eli would say after watching way too much Black Adder this trip, "Hurrah for that!" Unfortunately, I forgot to take my meds that morning so by the time the serpentine bus route to Eltham brought us to the Palace doors I was seeing double and having trouble standing up on my own too legs. So I turn it over to B, who remained clear-headed and starry-eyed the whole visit, to tell what we found there: "So, we knew that this would be an art deco palace, but I still sucked in breath when we walked in the huge round central room to discover a room straight from Hollywood 1930s. Eli and Gideon were a little muddled: first, because the curators insisted we put blue cloth slippers over our shoes and second because of the anachronism of the furnishings against their knowledge that Henry VIII spent his childhood there. Historical vertigo (and Eli's literal vertigo . . . recall the serpentine bus described above) was corrected substantially when we found the Medieval Hall . . . this too was reconstructed later, but it was a huge hall with ornate timbers and heated stone floor, but it looked the part. Nonetheless, we all agreed that we wanted to live in the house, especially in Lady Courtauld's boudoir, which we dubbed the "comfy room" with her huge sofa and built in books and leather map. Other highlights included the inset wood pictures of mythical Venice and Sweden that lined the walls of the entrance room, or the gold lacquer animals in the dining hall, not to mention the room kept for the family's pet lemur, Mah Jong. Alas, Jared didn't see much of this, as he was certain he would vomit on all the fine furnishings and was much happier when we turned to the beautiful gardens. There Gideon earnestly began another worksheet hunt and guided us through the grounds until we left J&E lying on the banks of a babbling brook to smell the flowers while Gideon and I collected his hunt reward, chocolate coins (which he kindly shared with his brother)."

Edinburghing Part II

2008-07-29T00:29:00.000-07:00

Sunday was our last day in the city, with a train back to London at 5:30. The day began as it should, with a trip to Bagpipe's Galore to learn more about Eli's new consuming passion (the fact that the big military tattoo was on at the Castle this weekend meant that every square inch of the city was covered with pipers and marching bands). There we met Bob Hay, who demonstrated the entry instruments for the Great Highland Bagpipe, the practice pipes and, for starters, the practice chanter. He walked Eli through a brief lesson, especially focusing on the aspects of the instrument that will be different from the oboe, and then, when Michael bought the chanter for Eli, he threw in a second chanter for Gideon and me to practice on.

Chanters in hand, we climbed up the neo-classical ridge overlooking Old Town and descended into the orderly Georgian New Town, where we paid our respects to Scott's completely outlandish monument and then visited my old haunt at the National Gallery, one of the most splendid small collections of masterpieces (including several perfect Titians) in Europe. Aside from the disappointment at finding Gaugin's Jacob Wrestling with the Angel out for a paid exhibition, everything was exactly as I left it almost a quarter century ago and it was a real treat to take Beth and the kids through my darlings in the collection. Strange that after all these years it is paintings in a museum that seem to have the biggest hold on my heart, and not the campus of the University at which I studied (which we didn't even bother to visit). After a shockingly horrible meal at the museum cafe (their bacon tastes like haggis), we headed to the Georgian House, a magnificently restored late 18th-century house that was once the grandest in New Town, used to keep up the gorgeous Georgian appearances that eventually and inevitably bankrupted the family who owned it. All good for us, as we can now wander the house and learn about how sugar loaves were broken down, how songbirds were toasted over the fire for a snack over brandy, and stomp sacrilegiously around their grand dining room into which the likes of us never would have been invited. In truth, I love house tours almost as much for such pleasures (I always look to find the story of the family's crushing decline that led the house to be in the public domain) as for the equally divine rewards of imagining myself in a Smollett novel.

Dean's Village

After our tour (and after Gideon once again rigorously completed the quiz sheet that he so looks forward to at each of these houses), we wandered a bit further west and into Dean's Village, one of my favorite getaways when I was a young, romantic wanderer of 19. And then it was back to the hotel to pick up our bags and grab a cab (Michael is teaching us how to use these strange, modern contraptions) to the station for our train home. It was a much more modern train than the spit-and-glue car that dragged us north, so we were briefly optimistic that we could get some much-needed sleep on the train ride home. But one of the many be-costumed parties of drunken bachelorettes we had swirved to avoid along Cowgate in Edinburgh entered our car at the last second for their last long round on the ride back to Newcastle. All hopes were dashed when one of them bellowed to everyone and no one: "Is everyone ready to PAH-TAY?" As loud and obnoxious as they were, they were a great source of amusement to us and the Danish family sitting across from us (who truly looked straight out of a Dogma film), especially the one who kept repeating at the top of her lungs to everyone and no one, "I'm a bloke trapped in a woman's body" (this, despite the fact that nothing about "her" body except for her insistence backed up the latter part of her statement). Finally, tired and dirty, we made it back to London, where we just missed the train to Greenwich at London Bridge, at which point Michael had a temper tantrum that led to us all piling into a cab which he most generously insisted on, dropping us grateful and drained at home just before midnight.

Edinburghing Part I

2008-07-27T14:55:00.000-07:00

This weekend we took the train up to Edinburgh to meet up with about 11 students and to see the Athens of the North (or, as I always thought of it when I lived here 23 years ago, the Reykjavik of the South). Despite my endless tales of freezing rain in July and endless fogs that made night impossible to distinguish from day, it was a sultry weekend and we took advantage of rare blue skies to climb Arthur's Seat, a remarkable piece of topography that lies right at the end of the Royal Mile, between Holyrood Palace and the new Scottish Parliament (when I was a student here, needless to say, the Parliament was just a twinkle in some whacked out nationalists' eyes). The student gamely made the hike with us, despite the fact that many of them were wearing flip-flops. But how can you say no when Gideon and Eli are scampering up the sheer edge of the mountain as fast as they can find someone to give them a boost. The views up top were breathtaking, and in all my many walks up there (including a romantic one 15 years ago with B) I have never seen as far or as clearly. The little ones wanted to keep climbing deeper and deeper into the Scottish countryside, but we had to rein them back in to find dinner. We left the students to their own devices (little suspecting that it would be the last time we would share with most of them on our weekend in Edinburgh) and stumbled out into the city in search of a meal. Without reservations on the week leading up to the Festival, this proved no easy mission, but just when we were starting to despair we found a table at the Empires Cafe on St. Mary's, a fabulous traditional Turkish restaurant that drowned us in jugs of water (as opposed to the usual thimble of water with one ice cube to be rationed over the course of the meal) and endless mezes and pilafs. The combination of fabulous food and desperate hunger (and some great music) made for a perfect end to our first day in the city.

The next day we hiked up to the Castle early in the promised drizzle and fog (both of which were gone by noon in what turned out to be another beautiful day) to get in before the hoards descended upon the place. While waiting Eli followed through on his ambition to sample haggis (despite my many warnings) with the entry-level version, a haggis roll. Despite his early optimism and the surprise to discover that it wasn't immediately disgusting, he soon learned the lesson that so many of us have discovered over the years: one can only eat the stuff if you find a way to shut off your brain while you are eating and not think even one stray thought about what you are eating. Sadly for Eli, he couldn't quite make it, but at least his interest in the stuff was cured once and for all. But by now another addiction had taken hold of the boy: the pipes! (more on that anon)

As the gates prepared to open the students made their way up from their hostel, but to my great surprise (and disappointment) almost all of them decided at the last second not to go in, but two (Kristen and Dylan) joined us on our walking around the Castle grounds. The kids were in heaven, of course, but so was their mom and especially their dad, who got to dress up like a privateer in one of the living history sessions and ham it up for the crowd. Gideon was especially enamored by the giant canon and (of course) the Scottish Crown jewels (I liked the cheesy dioramas portraying Walter Scott recovering the Honors from their secret burial place in the castle). Eli was of course drawn to the site of the Black Dinner, where young James II witnessed the executions of his teenaged idols.

We released our students from our grasp and headed down the Mile toward Holyrood Palace, stopping first for a visit at Gladstone's Land, a 17th-century merchant's house tour (by now, we are full-blown historical house-tour junkies, one and all). After a pleasant lunch (Turkish once again) at a cafe further down the mile, we visited Holyrood and discovered the joys of the audio tour. The boys we in love: as Eli put it, all the information of a tour without the crowds and fat people you couldn't see around. We took a brief break so Gideon could design and create his own Order of the Thistle regalia, and then ended our tour with a walk through the sublime Abbey ruins (ruined, in this case, not by wars with those dastardly English but by some underqualified 18th-century restoration specialists). At the end of this long day of sights and hikes, Gideon still wanted to hike back up Arthur's Seat but the rest of us vetoed this quickly.

We ended the day with some drinks on Michael's balcony at the hotel (he somehow got the luxury suite all to himself, the lucky duck), and then off to an unpromising walkup for what turned out to be the best (and the spiciest) Indian food I have had in a long time, in any country. Life was good, and we were exhausted by the time we got home-- after 10 PM with the sun in those northerly climes just setting.

But now it is late and I will wait till tomorrow to catch up on our last day in Edinburgh and the thrills and spills of the long ride home. As always lot of pics up at http://gallery.me.com/jaredgardner

And Now for Something Completely Different...

2008-07-25T04:27:00.000-07:00

Another full and frenetic couple of days. Wednesday we slept in as late as we possibly could (which as always was not terribly late, as the workers repairing Darnell House had to start early with their seemingly endless round of banging pieces of scaffolding together between cigarette breaks). We then headed out to St. Paul's, which somehow we had never seen in all our earlier visits to the city. For me, the highlight was the strangely erotic and insanely idealized statue of fat, cranky Sam Johnson, but the views from the top of the dome were equally breathtaking and well worth the 500+ steps to the top. The crypt was packed with thrill seekers apparently dying for a glimpse of Wren's grave (driven no doubt by the fact that others had crowded in ahead of them, inspired in their turn by the crowds that had preceded them... and so on). Especially cool were the effigies that had "survived" the fire of 1666. We then darted across the Millennium Bridge to Tate Modern to meet up with the students who were looking over the modernists and surrealists. One of the students, Jake, decided it would be funny to use fake blood and pretend he had been beaten up on the train coming in. Fortunately, the giggling girls saved Beth from a massive coronary. After a pleasant afternoon in the galleries, we indulged in a conveniently located pizza across from the Globe and then queued up for our groundling tickets for Lear. Eli was so excited about the production I thought he was going to explode, and fortunately the production lived up to his wild fantasies. There is much to be said against being groundlings at the Globe, including the annoying Italian tourists and their cell phones and the drunken louts wandering around groping said annoying Italian tourists. But on great advantage of standing next to the stage for 3 1/2 hours was that we had the closest imaginable view of Cornwall ripping out Gloucester's eyes, roots and all (although in this production, Regan took care of the second and then wiped the blood deliciously all over her face). The kids were in heaven! By the time we finally made it home, it was after midnight and we realized we had been on our feet for over 12 hours. But well worth every minute of it.

on the bus home from LEAR

Yesterday we had a mellower day to rest up for our trip to Edinburgh this weekend. We took a walk through Greenwich Park to see the Rose Gardens and then went down to visit the Queen's House, which houses some terrific historical portraits and is exhibiting a wonderful show on Dutch and Flemish sea paintings. We then went to Freud's house in North London to meet up with the students, who had been sent there on what we assumed to be was a class-related visit. In hindsight, it was of course predictable that we arrived to find the students wandering the house confused as to why they were there and, in some cases, uncertain who Freud actually was. The instructor for the class was there, but she showed little interest in actually teaching them, so Beth launched into an impromptu lecture on the landing about Freud's importance for literary scholarship and literature's importance for Freud. The students then darted off to catch the opening night's showing of The Dark Knight and we headed back to Greenwich for a lovely dinner at The Hill, a gastro-pub down the block on Royal Hill.

Now, we are on the train to Edinburgh, where we will arrive in around 90 minutes for another weekend full of walks, castles, museums and students. Eli is determined to find some haggis, and I am equally determined (having had my share of dining hall haggis some 23 years ago) never to cast my eye on the stuff again. But despite such brewing conflicts, we are looking forward to another adventure, about which more, anon.

Bloomsbury & Castle

2008-07-23T00:59:00.000-07:00

Time to catch up on our peregrinations once again... before we begin yet another crazy day taking us late into the night (more on that in the next update).

On Monday we returned to the British Museum to see the Greeks and Romans. We also visited a remarkable show on American prints from Bellows to Pollock (I had never realized that Pollock began his career as a social realist printmaker!). It was a marvelous show, and Gwathmey and Martin Lewis were real revelations. We then went to visit the Japanese rooms before they threw us out for closing time (damn their eyes!). For old time's sake, we wandered back to the North Sea Restaurant, which was our favorite haunt when we were in London with Michael and Stephen five years ago.

Yesterday, we woke early and worked our way through rushhour to Victoria Station to take the train south to Arundel to visit the castle. It was a beautiful ride through the green and pleasant countryside,after which we got to walk up a river path to town and the castle. We began with the tour of the castle rooms, which was a bizarre combination of historical magic and creepy conspicuous display of wealth and power by the current Duke and Duchess of Norfolk. Eli was especially appalled by the seemingly endless hunting trophies adorning the walls, including a particularly ghoulish case showing a doe being torn apart by a rapacious bird. But it was fascinating to visit a castle that is still very much a home to such people, who graciously "invited" us into their home (for 10 quid each).We paid the extra 2 pounds to visit the bedrooms upstairs and could not help (despite our deep revulsion at ourselves) but wish for an invite to spend the weekend, imagining ourselves lounging around these rooms and laughing at the lower orders.

We then visited the medieval keep, the oldest sections of the castle, which had a terrific set of rooms devoted to the siege of the Castle by the villainous "Roundheads" and the heroic defense thereof by the Catholic Loyalists (I suspect the Duke had some hand in the final copy edits here, proving that history isn't always written by the victors, but it is written by the one who owns the castle). While walking around the top of the original Keep, Beth noticed that several of the windows were closed, to shield visitors from something. At first we assumed it was an offending Protestant Church in the distance, but Beth eventually figured out it was the Family itself, enjoying a quiet afternoon's cricket match on their lawn. In leaning over to gaze on this forbidden site, however, Beth became quickly identified as a potential terrorist by the guard and we had to flee (giggling all the way) to escape his ferocious gaze.

We concluded our afternoon at the Castle with a visit to the gardens, a recent production combining Tudor and modern aesthetics, including a wonderful structure in the style of Inigo Jones' Oberon's palace which he had built for a masque those many moons ago. The gardens were beautiful, and it felt great to be absorbing sun and perfumes in abundance before our return to the city and the soot and smells of evening rushhour. And it was good we had recharged our batteries, because the crush that greeted us on our return to Victoria was truly apocalyptic, culminating in a final stage on the rail back to Greenwich when it seemed actually conceivable that oxygen would run out and the 14,000 bodies crushed into the car would collapse as one. But despite such visions, we made it back alive, and settled in at home for a homemade (with the help of a jar of M&S masala sauce) Indian food and an episode of Black Adder.

Now, time to dress and fuel up for the next adventure...