Clueless in the UK

I think the connection between London and the US has gotten faster in the last couple of days. That's something to celebrate in a serious way.

In London it's beautiful, Bay Area-like weather, and has been all week. Sunny, blue sky, 75F, and then cool at night. What more can you ask for?

Oh man, it's fading fast. I had all sorts of good stuff to say.

Plus pictures. We've been to the Lake District and York in recent weeks, when my Mom was visiting. We had a school Sports Day where instead of coming in first like last year I came in 3rd and then 5th (an outrage).

It's sunny and warm in London and I am sad we didn't just spontaneously invite some friends over and just share some wine and dinner and let the kids run wild outside in the neighborhood.

Meanwhile, I am finally legal to drive in the UK now. I took the test, and I passed it. First the theory, then the practical. I almost had a perfect practical test (you are allowed 15 minor mistakes, but you can fail with a single major one) and I had 0 minor mistakes but there was this one pesky thing involving a mini-roundabout which he told me at the end he could have failed me for. Still, he decided not to, which is good because I would have kicked his ass for it. I think I benefitted from the nice weather this week. Puts everyone in a good mood.

Damn Foreigners

I met a woman today on the TUBE who needed help getting her bag down a huge number of stairs (which I had climbed up two hours earlier). I asked her if I could help and she said, Thanks! She was an older woman and she was moving to France because she has had it with this country. I couldn't get all the details out of her before we had to part ways on the underground, but apparently everything was great until all the Poles came.

Last week my driving instructor's father (also an instructor) was complaining about all the Jews, as we were driving through a particularly Jewish part of town. Just out of curiosity I asked him if he knew how many Jews there are in the world? I mean, think about their contribution to society, their prevalence in the world today, their impact in the past and in the present? He said, "About 1/3 of the people?" Thank you Jesus, I thought to myself, as I told him, "Well, actually, no, they are about 0.2% of the population." Luckily I was the one driving, as my instructor almost had a heart-attack when I told him that. It's definitely food for thought, don't you think?

I've met other people who don't like England anymore. One person said that he thinks we (Brits) should not be ashamed of our history like we are now. We were strong, we had colonies, we don't need to apologize about it! While he might have been tongue-in-cheek about that, I think he was very serious when he said he thought this country was all wrong now. I am not sure I disagree to be honest.

Which is how a lot of Americans feel about their country (our country - don't worry, we're not THAT far gone yet). How much we Americans feel that about our country is about to be determined, and sadly it could go either way at this point. Mind-boggling, but if the Ds cannot get their act together and if they actually lose this coming election, frankly it's time to find a new … party.

Poor Jonathan (or should I have said Pour?)

My right-wing nutcase friend Marty left the country yesterday. I am sad about it because he was my drinking buddy. We'd go to the pubs and rip into each other about the pros and cons of the NHS, or Fox "news" and George Bush, etc. They moved back to the States and it was the right move, but the buzz around my kids' school with all the mothers is, "What's Jonathan going to do now?" Can you believe it? I'll probably do what I normally do, and write some computer programs or build some websites. Or read some books. I have read so many books this past year, it's freaky. Sue gives me a book and I read it, then she gives me the next book and I read it, too! I got a book on Judaism as a recommendation from my original right-wing nutcase friend, and after reading it I thought about converting to Judaism, as the most sensible of the nonsense religions out there. Of course, that's just after one book. I need to read one on Christianity (and I am thinking of C.S. Lewis) but I think that's going to be very hard to stomach, especially if the Judaism book was at all right about some of the things it said: faith is more important than your actions in Christianity, the opposite in Judaism. I am reading these as counter-point to my personal bibles: God Delusion and (even better) God Is Not Great.

No offensive to my believing audience.

The book on Judaism has really helped me understand appreciate the final season of Battlestar Galactica, which is all about monotheism and passing off all your sins on another being, who is elevated to God status by an increasing percentage of the population.

I can't believe Marty escaped the country without my whip demonstration. I mean, I took the time to bring my bullwhip across the pond, how come I didn't show it to anybody!? The answer to that might be more obvious to a sober man, but I had a chunk of beer and wine to drink tonight because it's SO NICE and WARM out!

The original title of this post was going to be, "It's the dishes, stupid!" but I cannot remember why I thought that made any sense at all.

We're (maybe) famous.

See, Whizzgo called me up (the car share company we use) and asked if we would like to do an interview with a local television program called "It Pays to watch" which is a show about saving money. I'd never heard of it because I don't watch rubbish television anymore, and all television in the UK (even the public-subsidized BBC) is utter rubbish. However, I said yes, because I wanted to redeem myself from my various public appearences, whether on television or just in front of the entire company, which were so bad that I continue to have nightmares about them 10 years later (or is it just 5?). I warned them I might suck, but they didn't believe me.

When the day came it all worked out quite well. The camera man dude was cool, and we hit it off, and I started relaxing. The girl interviewer chick looks like Demi Moore in person and not nearly as hot as Demi Moore when actually on television. I really scewed up when I asked her during a relaxed moment of heightened confidence, "Are you the same woman I saw on the web version of the show? Really? You are? Did you lose weight?" Once a loser geek, always a loser geek. Can you believe I said that?

We spent 5 hours together. I demonstrated how to use the car. I drove 500 meters and picked the kids up from school in the car, with the camera running the whole time. The kids came out of the school with me, with all their friends in the main entrance of the school inside yelling with excitement and looking through the mail slot on the door. Out we went, got into the car, first the kids, then me, "Don't look at the camera!!!!" and then, "That was great! Let's do it again, I screwed up …" so back into the school with all the screaming kids, and back out again after we wiped the smiles off our faces, and this time we got all the way into the car and I drove off down the hill and parked in front of my favorite pub which coincidentally is (1) the one where the cameraman's parents used to love to go when he was a kid, and (2) where I like to go while I am waiting for the kids to get out of school, with the main advantage being it has a perfect view of the school's front door.

Of course, I used to go there with Marty and those days are over. Sniff sniff.

I went there yesterday and the bartender said, "Your friend is leaving!" And I agreed with him, and reminded him that the last time I was in the bar he accused me of being a communist. And while I was sitting in the bar a complete stranger sat down next to me, held out his hand and said, "Hello - I am your kids gym teacher!" Which was true, but the last time I saw him he had not shaved in a few days. I should have recognized him.

Back to the Whizzgo/It Pays to Watch story … The best part is, This past wednesday I got a call from Whizzgo saying, "The show's on tonight at 7:30!" So I, being the dork that I am, sent a text message to 6 friends and one relative saying, "Check us out, the whole family on television!" So we decided to go out to dinner, I had three glasses of champagne (I had passed my drivers tests that morning, so lots to celebrate) and I told the freakin' bartender, who was very friendly with our kids in the bar, that we were going to be on television! In fact, and I realize this is a side-story, but so what: when he was pouring my second glass of cassis, I looked over at him, and made the universal "KEEP POURING!!!!" sign with my hand, and he burst out laughing and filled it all the way to the top for me.

Anyway, we went running home with minutes to spare, and after the introduction to the show at the very beginning it was quite clear that we were in fact NOT going to be on that night. So I watch the whole show anyway just in case, and Marty is texting me saying, "WTF?" and at the end of the show our friend Joe texts me and says, "Well, at least I learned how to save £1.24 on a loaf of bread!"

So I figured my record of 100% editing room floor was left intact by yet another attempt at redeeming myself. The last and most devastating time I was left on the editing room floor was when I was interviewed by Nova!!!! I thought, "I grew up watching Nova with my Dad, and nothing would thrill him and me more than being interviewed on that program!" And I answered all sorts of technical questions along the lines of "What is a virtual machine?" and "How does Java work on all computers?" and I thought I answered them so well, because I explained them in a way any idiot could understand (it takes one to know one, don't ya know?) and even the guys interviewing me and filming me broke out in applause at one of my incredible answers. But to no avail: chopped and left on the editing room floor.

Anyway, I wrote the producer of the show whom was at my house for 5 hours, and she said that the whole think came out great, and that we will be on the air on the 21st of May. So, stay tuned. It could be huge. So what if it's Channel 5 and not BBC 1?

 

My friend Marty and I decided to take a road trip to France. Why? Because we can! He had some guests coming from out of town and needed some good, cheap wine. I just thought it would be cool to drive to another country to buy wine. Also, Marty had been a few weeks early and bought some La Creuset look-alike pots (although we thought they were actually La Crueset until we got there!) and Sue and I decided we don't care if we can actually cook, we know we want those pots. Meanwhile, one of our other friends heard about the pots and wanted a set for herself, as long as we got the ugly green ones.

Here are the pans we're talking about:

but they are not the proper puke green, and they are not La Creuset. But I am getting ahead of myself.

Why bother going to sleep?

We had to leave at 6am to catch our train under the chunnel. I never sleep well, of course, so I didn't bother going to bed early. Marty tried and gave up. All night I was dreaming/day dreaming of the whole event, and as my 5:15 am wakeup time approached I started humming the song I knew my iPhone would start playing: Breathe Me, by Sia. This was the song they used at the end of the series finale of Six Feet Under, in case you are wondering. What good is an alarm if you start anticipating it several hours in advance?

I needed 45 minutes to get ready because my coffee machine takes 15 minutes just to warm up! Still, I have apparently finally mastered firm foam and crema-laden espresso in my crazy espresso maker, so that is good.

Marty was up basically all night, so we were both in great shape for the two hours drive to the chunnel. And here's what it looks like at 6am in London this time of year. In June it will look like mid-day this time of day, but in March, it's more sane:

You might notice that Marty is driving a Prius. If you think it's weird that a right-wing nut case is driving a Prius, I will just say that he is a right-wing nut case in conflict right now. Meanwhile, I don't like Priuses because they lie about their mileage and have gotten away with it for so long, whereas the Honda was more honest about the Civic Hybrid mileage but took a hit for it.

First Hint of Trouble

The problem with getting to Folkestone to catch the train is that its in the south of england, and we're in north London. Being the GPS dependent guys we are, who try hard never to look at maps and put all our faith in the sexy voice of our trusty garmin GPS units, we knew we didn't want to drive through the center of London to get there. That's all we knew, actually. We we also knew of a road called "North Circular" which we have driven on from time to time, but we didn't really know if driving on it for a while (ignoring the pleas of the GPS unit to turn around) would be a good thing or not, because we left the map book in the trunk, uh, I mean boot.

That's when Marty said, "Usually Sarah tells me when to turn left and turn right, and I'm comfortable with that." Oh oh. Because I was thinking to myself, "Normally Sue has 5 different maps for where we're going, with an optimized, down to the minute plan for arriving and departing each stop along the way, based on an assumption that the GPS will not be able to acquire satellites until we're supposed to be there … and I'm comfortable with that!"  Right then I think we each said a private prayer and just crossed our fingers.

Eventually the GPS and my trusty iPhone were in agreement of where we were going, how we would get there, and when we would get there: namely in plenty of time to make the train, possibly early enough to catch the one before ours.

Here's a small sample of the English country side along the way: 

Kinda reminds me of central New Jersey if you want to know the truth.

Second sign of trouble

About 25 miles from our destination we were diverted off the main highway. Our GPS complained but we ignored her and followed the signs. It was puzzling because we were sure we saw a big truck get on the highway but no cars. One blocked highway entrance after another started concerning us, as we continued down a small back road parallel to the highway for mile after mile. Luckily the traffic was moving and our estimated arrival time did not really change that much.

Sure enough we ended up taking the back roads all the way to the Chunnel and as we got closer we saw miles of 18-wheeler trucks backed up on the highway. We thought the bad weather might have shut down some of the ferry services, causing all the cargo trucks to have to switch to the train. Whatever, it didn't matter to us it turned out; we arrived at the check-in station, slipped in the credit-card, and were given a boarding letter. We had time to get coffee before we got on the train. Here's Marty doing what all professionals do when they get a moment: consulting his iPhone.

The train is interesting, and here's a few pictures that show how it all works. I love how they remind you where you're going:

The part of the train for cars is a double-decker and you better make sure you fit:

Follow the divided lanes around, up, across, over and then you see this:

They open two doors on the side of the train, one for each story, and up/in you go:

I will admit that I started to feel claustrophobic inside there, especially when I started thinking of the whole tunnel thing, but I put it out of my mind, and Marty and I did what we always do when we get together: give each other lots of shit about our opposing political views.

Actually, this time I think we talked about cameras but I am trying to keep this story interesting.

35 minutes later, we pop out the other end:

and get started with some power shoppping:

Sing it with me: Proud to be an American:

Third sign of trouble

Well, at the huge Cite Europe mall shopping center, we struck out on the La Creuset pots. That's when Marty starting realizing that he hadn't bought the fancy, over-priced La Creuset pots as he had thought, but rather, some reasonably priced alternatives. After all, how expensive does cast iron really need to be?

But we decided we needed to go to another store just a couple miles away. Unfortunately we couldn't remember the name of the place. Luckily we have wives on the other ends of cell phones, and we sent emergency texts and made phone calls to get the information we needed. Sadly, getting there turned out to be a major hassle. Why? Because there were diversions all over the place, just like on the other side of the channel. It took us way too long to get the three miles to the next store in large part because we were stuck following some uniquely French vehicles:

 

We went around various roundabouts several times, before admitting defeat. Then we just went another way and let our GPS lead us.

But by then we were hungry, so we stopped off at this fine French establishment:

and rejuvenated ourselves. BTW, the Wi-Fi Gratuit was not gratuit at all. Or, perhaps they password protected it so dumb English people who cannot speak French would not know how to ask for the access code. Oh - except many people in England can speak French - it's just the dumb Americans living in England who can't speak French. But I thought the current Frecnh administration was the most Pro-American in recent memory…

Where was I?

The Wine

Well, without going into the detail, we ended up buying a few cases of wine each. At the store they list the wine prices in British pounds, and tell you exactly how much we are saving per bottle by buying it there rather than in England. It seemed to be about 25% to 40%, which adds up quite quickly if you are into fancy wine, but works its way up rather slowly if you're into cheap wine like I am.

It's slightly possible that we saved some money by driving all that way, hopping on the train and paying the £50 fare. We were in a Prius so we actually produced less emissions than had we huffed and puffed out way across the street from where we live to the liquor store. But most importantly, we had fun doing it, a couple a guys on a day trip to France, no real plans, confronting real problems like traffic diversions with confidence, a GPS, an a sense of amazement that we succeeded without our wives, it was all good…

The trip back

… all good, that is, until we had to get back.

First of all, there is a time change of one hour between England and France. We took that into careful consideration and made our plans to get back to the train by 1:20 pm British time to catch our 2:50 pm train ride back to England.

Well here's what we discovered when we tried to drive the 1 mile to the trains: 

Losely translated, I think that means "Screw you, dumb Brits". So, off we went on a deviation, following the signs trying to understand what was going on: 

We were basically forced to get on the highway and drive in the exact opposite direction of where we wanted to go. (It reminded me of when Sue was going into labor with Jason, and I drove away from the hospital as fast as I could, instead of meeting her there as fast as I could … but I digress.)

Every time we tried to outsmart the deviations by getting off the highway and making a U-turn, we were thwarted by blocked entrance ramps for the other direction. We still didn't get what was going on, but we saw plenty of trucks lining the roads on that side of the highway. Still there was room for cars, as we knew we were being directed way down the highway so we could eventually turn around.

 

Of course, while we were driving away from our intended destination, our GPS was now practically yelling at us to turn around, or at least to pull over and ask directions. It was no longer our sexy, female friend showing us the quickest way from point A to point B. No, now she was a dumb bitch who didn't know when to shut up.

(This is where the "Men Behaving Badly" comes from.)

So, anyway, we're finally on the correct side of the road driving too fast towards the train station, when we catch up to all the trucks lining the roads for miles and miles.

 

See what I mean? And then we really screwed up because we saw this "glimmer of hope" between two trucks and made a split decision to get off the highway:

If you look at that sign on the exit ramp, you can just make out the edge of a sign pointing to the tunnel train. Unfortunately, being the dorks we are, we didn't realize until a split second too late that it was a sign describing the round-about at the end of the exit ramp, which included a description of how to get back onto the highway to get to the chunnel train … OH SHIT! Entrance ramp!?!? They are all closed!?!?!?

So we were yelling and screaming at each other, "We are so dumb! We suck! We are morons!" back and forth, as we got back onto the freeway and drove 5 miles in the wrong direction AGAIN and basically had the same conversation as before, yelling and screaming at the GPS to shut up.

And then we noticed that we had run out of time, and that we were going to miss our train! So, then began yet another round of yelling and screaming at each other, "We are so mind-bogglingly dumb!"

It was hilariously and pathetic at the same time. Texts were sent, phone calls were made, could Sue please pick up the kids from school because we missed the train, etc.

Then we noticed two pieces of paper with two train reservations for different days on it, and we realized that we had been looking at the wrong piece of paper, and in fact we had one extra hour to get there! So then our tone changed to, "Yeah - you the man, we went, we bought, we're coming home, it's all good, yeah!"

So we get to the train station early for our train, and when we check in with the credit card it says, "You missed your train but you can take the next one for free." We dismissed it as confused by our manly, early arrival, and got our ticket, did some last minute shopping and then got on the train.

At which time we noticed that we had been right the first time, and we did miss our train. More hysterics! It was truly mind-boggling. While on the train a lady came by and asked us for feedback on the whole experience with the trains, and we said it was great, but what was up with all the traffic diversions? She said, "The French ferry works are on strike …" Typical. This is where my right-wing nut case friend and I agree: the French were probably complaining that the 32 hour work week is too long, or something. They need their crazy, messed up, crack pot, immoral, Dad-to-be, American loving president to whip them into shape.

Here we are back on the other side of the Channel looking at the huge lines of truck traffic:

The saga doesn't quite end there, but I think enough is enough. Suffice it to say that we got home, in time to pick the kids up from school even, and to do so we even pulled out the map book from the trunk, and I will even admit that I looked at the map and it actually helped.

Behaving badly is fun

OK - one more thing. Marty and I both agree that if you swear a lot, you just basically end up looking stupid, lacking in creativity or imagination, and seriously lacking in style as well. We know, we're practically experts in it.

On the other hand, it was a hell of a lot of fun letting loose, like we did in the good old days before kids.

So we chalk it up as yet another of many sacrifices we make for our children … I wonder if they will ever appreciate just how hard we work at being such good role models?

 

It took me a while to actually read this advertisement (pasted on the TUBE wall) carefully enough to see that, you know, this kind of ad is not likely to work in the United States:

This is England, is it not? Where Victorian was invented? Strange. They use a lot of naughty words on television as well. I think it probably explains why all the kids have gone to hell in this country…

Valentine's Day

But they are not so advanced here that we don't still suffer under the oppression of Hallmark and flowers this time of year. However, I did OK I like to think on my end of the bargain, and Sue achieved a new level of success with the following:

Of course a man would like a great beer and a glass to go along with it!

Our Amazing Children

Really this blog entry is about our amazing children, but I was just trying to show some restraint.

Jason continues to impress 

Jason has turned the whole school thing up a notch this year, doing really well in everything. He's also turned the whole chess thing up a notch as well, and we've started going to chess tournaments with the rest of the chess team. There's a really big one coming up on March 2nd which should be a lot of fun. Anyway, I have taken Jason to two all day chess tournaments lately. At his first one he won 3, tied 1, lost 1 and at his second one, which was much harder, he won three and lost three.

His team won first place in his first tournament and here he is with his teammates:

In fact their school won first, second and third place!

He is about to start his 6th game in this photo below. That's the head mistress of our school wishing him a good luck hand shake:

I didn't think boys this age could concentrate long enough to play one match, let alone six! But the nice thing is, between matches they go out side and run around playing football.

Anyway, Jason has blown us away with his chess and the rest of his academic successes this year, which we will not bore you with.

Madeline secondary school adventure

This is Maddie holding five secondary school acceptance letters in her hot little hands. She got all the schools she wanted to. We are astonished and mind-bogglingly proud of her accomplishment. Almost a year younger than she is supposed to be, first five years of her education were bilingual with 50% of her time spent in Chinese, she came to this country where they start earlier, and played catch up her first year here, and in just 1 and 1/2 short years has managed to get accepted to two of the top 10 secondary school in the UK, and all of her top three choices.

Madeline called home from school today to ask us if the mail came and when we told her she got in to her number one choice, she burst into tears. Her friends gathered around her were asking her why she was crying since she got in!

These past months have been intense.

Maddie can look forward to

• latin
• another one or possibly two foreign languages
• religious studies
• three years of chemistry, physics, biology in her first three years
• the rest of the humanities of course

Luckily she seems to … frankly just love school. She is a sponge for learning everything. If I had been like her I could have been so much smarter. When I was her age, I was majoring in sulking, and I think I brought it to a new art form.

Cheap Red Wine

Whenever I visit my younger sister she breaks out the $6 magnum red and we just drink it up. I learned to love it, cherish it, respect it, consume it. So I have been on a mission to find cheap wine here in the UK. Of course, the UK is 2x so it's a bit of a challenge.

I mentioned it to one of my friends who happened to be taking a road trip under the tunnel to France for a weekend. He thinks I am crazy but while he was there, he bought me a €0.95 bottle of French wine as a joke. I was determined to drink it and love it, however:

10 seconds later ….

Space - the Final Frontier

Well, the other thing I have pictures of is related to space. When we went to Disney World during Christmas, we decided to go to the Kennedy Space Center. That's the vehicle assembly building behind the kids below. It is one HUGE building!

To be honest I was feeling lazy like I usually do, and wasn't sure I wanted to get the car and head on over there (not that I liked being in Disney World, as I mentioned before). But I am so infinitely glad that we did, because (1) it's very cool and (2) I think Jason has a new obsession. 

We paid extra and got to drive on a bus close to the Space Shuttle which was supposed to take off, I think, the day before but didn't for some reason. I am not remembering too well, actually. The tour was worth it.

And wandering around the building which contained the life size version of the Saturn V rocket was completely worth it. Truly amazing. At the other end of the rocket we were trying to sort out exactly what was what, and I think by the end we figured it out.

Later we went to New Jersey and bought the Apollo 13 movie and From the Earth to the Moon, from HBO. When we showed Jason Apollo 13 he was completely blown away, and now he cannot get enough of space. Last night we started on the HBO series that was truly awesome the first time I watched in years ago. It's time to reread The Right Stuff and decide whether it's suitable for Jason. He's very young but has become an avid reader and is so very interested in this stuff right now.

It's fun relearning or learning in the first place a lot about the solar system, galaxy and universe with Jason. Or reliving the space program that got us to the moon, a truly astonishing feat, with our without the hype. Jason loves to name the astronauts, the missions they flew, the dates, their age, when they died, how they died. I can relate to a boy who has obsessions, as my life has been one or two obsessions at a time since as long as I can remember.

The kids are growing up and I am in awe of both of them.

That's All Very Deep, but …

I saved the most earth-shattering news for last: I am going bald in the back of my head.

Gray nose hairs, not a problem. Connecting eye-brows, I can live with that. Gray chest hairs, hair on the wrong side of my forearms, bad back (it's better now): no problem. I can handle a lot of this aging crap, but this came as a shock to me. I have been drinking heavily ever since Sue confirmed what she was too nice to come out and say for the past year or so. 

I feel like a stranger in a strange land. Up until 5 years ago I didn't even realize that most people in the United States believed in God, that I was part of a small and possibly shrinking minority.

Something else happened recently which makes me feel lost in a crazy world, but I can't remember it right now. So this post is going nowhere fast. Oh yeah, I remember: I hate Disney World and Disneyland. But so far I am the only person I know who feels that way. Luckily Sue reminded me that it's for the kids, and I have been trying and largely succeeding (except for a few relapses) at pretending not to hate those places.

I am completely bummed out about the state of the world and the state of the US. The UK is not a lot better, but at least they have the NHS ;-) 

I thought this 20 minute video called "The Story of Stuff" was excellent. Sure, it contains a few political references that my right-wing nut case friends won't like, but I think it is dead on with respect to just a couple serious issues facing this world. I want to show it to my kids. The video is about the negative aspects of our addiction to the never-ending cycle of consumption. And I agree with it whole-heartedly, have espoused the merits of the video to my friends, vowed to cut back on my consumption … and then got back to counting down the hours, minutes and seconds until Steve Jobs got on the stage at MacWorld and tell me what awesome products I am going to buy this year …

What the hell is the matter with me, anyway?

MacWorld was disappointing, BTW, but the end result is a postponing of more Apple-based consumption, so that's not bad is it?

So, yeah, the video eventually mentions the fact that consuming all this stuff has done not one single thing to improve the happiness of us consumers, in fact, our happiness has declined steadily since the 1950s. I don't know if it's true or not (although I assume it is possible to measure happiness accurately), but it definitely seems right to me. Because the reason I like living in London more than Atherton is the increased interaction with other people, something that is actively discouraged by our increasing consumption of high-tech gadgets. You're less likely to chat with somebody if your i-pod is blasting away, and you're less likely to leave the house if you have a Play Station 3 or Nintendo Wii, you're less likely to go to the movies if you have a home theater, etc.

Anyway, I am sure it's the case in any big city and we just happened to pick this one: you can't help interacting more with people if you are out and about walking around, going about your business. Driving around in cars, starting and ending in your remote controlled garage, is not a recipe for human interaction unless it's with the jerk who just sneaked into your parking space at Best Buy.

Speaking of Conspicuous Consumption 

Well, now that I got that off my chest, shall I tell you the saga of my espresso machine? You know, the fancy pants one I bought that would bring me into harmony with my coffee in ways never achieved before? You know - this one?

(Here's the name and model number, and some keywords for any search engines out there: La Pavoni, Stradivari, steam, sucks, froth, milk, consistency problem, over-priced, slow to warm up, bad design, stupid idea, looks good.)

Well I tried to return it yesterday I was so fed up with it. I already knew the return policy: "Return policy? Where do you think you are, the United States? You use it once?? You own it!"  But I decided to play the pity card because I can be quite pitiful at times, I've done well with it in the past, why not give it a try now?

I knew my plan was in trouble when I noticed that the lady I needed to deal with at the kitchen store was crying when I showed up. I wanted to yell, "There's no crying in retail!" but of course there is, as well as politics and even in baseball … So how can I play the pity card when the lady is weeping herself?!?!?

Anyway, long story short, I got all the experts in the store to come upstairs and show me how to make the stupid, fancy-looking, old-fashioned espresso maker actually generate steamed milk with the proper consistency. The first young lady (not the one weeping at the front desk) splattered herself and the surrounding area with milk and in the end produced limp foam indeed. Then an older guy stepped in and he and I went at it with passion about how to produce a good head of foam on your steamed milk. I kept telling him that I am a professional, having wielded the steam wands of many an espresso machine, from cheapo to fantastico, and had never had a problem. Finally, he brought out the big guns, a young guy who does repairs on espresso machines for the store, and he and I were able to communicate.

In the end he steamed something almost acceptable but not really what I was looking for. And I said to him, "I could solve this problem if I could bend the steam wand so that it's straight up and down instead of at an angle …" and he said, "You can definitely bend this if you need to … just not too far."

So bend it I did! Problem solved! Which means (1) I was right all along and (2) I don't hate my machine anymore. I don't know if this is sinking in with my massive reading audience, but, I've been right about things a couple times in a row now … impressive, eh?

Democracy is Dead

Democracy has been a farce for years in the States, or at least I have felt that way for years, maybe it's always been this way. Obviously money is a huge corrupting factor. But when the tools of democracy are corrupted to the bone as well, well then we are truly lost.

BTW, I cannot say "well then we are truly lost" without thinking of Obi-wan Kenobi, but that is another story.

This kind of stuff is completely freaking me out. I don't mind an electorate that doesn't care enough to vote or pay attention to issues nearly as much as I mind having a press that tells us how we're going to (or supposed to) react, rather than how we ACTUALLY DID (past tense) react! When did they get any idea other than reporting what happened? Mind boggling!

What I Miss Most about the US 

When we go back to the States here's what I notice: washers and dryers. I practically threw out my back every time I reached into the cavernous washers and dryers trying to pull out the clothes. And what's with this 40 minutes to wash and 40 minutes to dry crap? It's supposed to be 110 minutes to wash and then 110 minutes to dry a load that's 1/4 the size of an average American load! And why aren't the washers and dryers in the kitchen making tons of noise during dinner like they are here in the UK?

The other thing I noticed, that I hate to admit I really appreciate when I am in the States, is how easy it is to hop in a car and go to a store and pay obscenely low prices for just about anything you could ever imagine wanting. Anything. And you have your choice of stores. And it's cheap as all get-out. And if you don't like it, TAKE IT BACK! Kind of ironic given the nature of this blog entry … which is turning into a rant. Still, this isn't the "Happy Payne Family European Adventure" blog. This is the "Jonathan get's to write whatever he wants about how he's feeling during the Happy Payne Family European Adventure" blog.

I better quit while I am ahead. 

Yesterday Madeline had her first set of exams for secondary schools, but the way I'm feeling you'd think it were I who was under all the pressure.

OK - let me explain how this all went down yesterday:

1. Madeline and I walk down High street to get the car share car. The GPS is ready to go, we know the way, never mind I haven't driven here in over a month, but have driven all over the place in the States on the other side of the road all last month.
2. Traffic jams extraordinaire, misbehaving traffic lights, inattentive pedestrians leads to my running a red light while Madeline was on the phone with Sue. (See below to learn why that's a really stupid thing to do …)
3. Feeling a little too confident at one of the more nasty roundabouts, I missed my exit, hesitated, couldn't go around again, so took the next exit. I was immediately beeped at and flipped off by an angry Brit who couldn't get over the fact that I was … momentarily confused.
4. No worries, the GPS knew what to do, but sadly it didn't know it was going to put me on a road with a 1.5 mile, single lane, traffic jam. Luckily we left ourselves 3x what I thought we would to get there, because … it's me …
5. … except because it's me, we got close a little too early. So I tried to park in a park parking lot only to discover that once I went in, there was no going out the same way. A gate which lowered into the ground on the way in refused to lower again on the way out, so I had to go through a traditional gate on the other side to get out …
6. … but it wanted money and I wasn't in the mood! So I squeezed out the gate behind the other stupid car that was also in there, peering anxiously over my shoulders to make sure it wasn't going to come crashing down on me …
7. … only to go around the rather large block to discover that we were now at the end of a rather long line of cars and now in danger of being a little late…
8. … which didn't matter because there were a million cars behind us, too!

Naturally I was completely calm during all this. Just ask Madeline.

Madeline just turned 10, but I drove her to this place at 7:30 in the morning, to spend the day until 3pm taking 3 exams that will have a big impact on her future here in England. I and 400 other parents were dropping off girls, and I do mean dropping off. I am grateful I was allowed to the stop the car before a kindly gentleman opened the door and escorted Madeline to the front of the building where the older girls who had already been through this years in the past were waiting to take her in, make her feel comfortable and happy and relaxed. I didn't get to park and walk her in, there were too many people.

By the time I got home I needed a drink, but, I knew in a few hours I had to turn around and make the same trip all over again. This time I practically begged Sue to keep me company, which she did, and there was only one mishap involving getting on the M1 and being forced to drive 3 miles in the wrong direction before I could turn around.

I hate driving in the UK.

Madeline was all smiles when we picked her up at the end, feeling quite confident that she did pretty well in what is likely her most difficult exam.

Tomorrow morning I take her to what will be her most important exam because it's for a number of schools she has applied to (they share exam results for some schools) including her number one choice. So, we're keeping our fingers crossed. Madeline seems to excel under pressure though. 

A Going-Back-Home-To-California Crisis

OK, the crisis has been averted but I was freaked out and depressed for weeks once I heard about this. To sum it up, out with the old:

and in with the new:

Yes, the butcher announced he was closing after 35 years here in Hampstead. When the butcher is closed, we go hungry … or we go out, and I routinely would run out to the butcher 10 minutes before closing time to grab something to eat. I really liked the place, even if it was insanely expensive.

The closing did not come without some drama, as clearly I was not the only devastated Hampsteadian in the neighborhood. Also, why didn't Mr. Steele hand down the establishment to his son, Barry, whom I had had many a happy conversation about MacBook Pros and accompanying software. Well, there are all sorts of theories to that one, but I don't want to go into them at this time, because I am not a gossip

Happily the new butcher is just as good, if not better, and also is cheaper than this one. The only bad news is that it's 1.3 miles down the hill and 1.3 miles up the hill so the days of last minute runs to the butcher are long gone. I am going to have to - oh my GOD! - plan ahead.

Espresso Madness

Just before we got on a plane for our 3 week trip to the States my trust little, cheapo, espresso maker died on me. Now despite the cheap price, this thing made an excellent espresso every time, and was a very capable steamer as well. It took just one lousy minute to warm up and had an infinitely supply of steam because of the clever way it produced it: one little squirt at a time. The thing produced 1 second tiny squirts of water into a clearly hot steamer producing steam instantly, once the machine was warmed up after just one little minute, and continuously produced steam until I was done. I loved my little machine (whose name I can't remember - but it was still love!).

Anyway, my little Briel (the name just came to me) basically burst at the seams and trying to fix a £120 machine just doesn't make sense.

Besides, one of our guests had put the bug of manual, Italian espresso machines into my head, something had been tempted by many a time buy couldn't justify the price. Well, ladies and gentleman, I have just justified the price:

(I take all my pictures with the iPhone now - scary)

So this puppy costs … an arm and a leg and it's a manual transmission so you really develop a relationship with this baby, as one should when making espresso.  And the steam wand is much longer so I can steam enough for 4 or 6 or maybe more lattes at a time with this baby!

That's the good news.

The bad news is: I cannot steam milk to the proper consistency to save my life with this steam wand. And believe me, I am a professional. It has three holes at the bottom of the wand, but the wand cannot be placed in the absolute vertical position, so one of those holes is pointing higher than the other two … which causes splatter and too much air at the wrong time … oh, I am …

OK, time to stop whining. I am working on developing a new technique.

The espresso part is fine but I am not able to produce as reliable a shot as I used to with my old machine. Still, there's hope for that.

1984 in England

While in the States I received an email from Whizzgo, the car sharing company that we used to drive around from time to time, stating that I received a ticket while driving one of their cars. I didn't recognize it as something I could have done, because it sounded like it thought I was driving the wrong way on a one way street! So I wrote back a message saying, "I am not sure I had the car that day and I don't think I would have done anything like that because I am very conservative driving in the UK."

Then the Whizzgo guy sent me this (which he meant to send in the original message): 

In picture #1 I can be seen sitting at the intersection all pleased with myself for finally having the guts to drive down such a narrow road near our house, but outraged when I found out that I couldn't make a right turn. Seconds go by until picture #2, where I clearly remember saying (after looking carefully for cops), "I don't think this is an issue, this seems perfectly all right to me, SCREW IT!" Picture #3 is a close-up of my license plate. Picture #4 is proof that I went through with it.

So I wrote back to Whizzgo and said, "Ohhhh - THAT intersection!" And that's £60 down the drain.

So now it's no longer OK to make a calculation along the lines of, "Can I do it safely and are there any cops around?" It's really just a question of, "Do I want another ticket?" I am fully expecting a ticket for my little red light mistake I made taking Madeline to school yesterday morning. This one might be more serious.