Thanksgiving

This year thanksgiving was quite exciting.  A work colleague whose mother happens to be American invited us to diner after work.  It also turns out that the mother worked on a seminal edition of Shakespeare’s plays in the 1980s.  So it was fascinating on many counts.  The most interesting feature of the diner was that the boiler in their house hadn’t been working for several days so there was no heat and no hot water in the house.  It so happens that the boiler at our flat also let go that morning and we also had no heat or hot water.  And our third colleague in the computer room also had his boiler not working, making it a clean sweep.  And we found out that my inlaws in back in the states lost their water on Thanksgiving Day also.  So there was a theme.  But the best thing about Thanksgiving this year is that we had somewhere to go to, so that was a nice change from last year.  I think it shows how we have adapted to life in London that we found someone with whom to share the American holiday.

My Third London Job

Well, it took me a few months but I finally got a job in occupational therapy.  I took the job near the beginning of the year and I am still there as of the writing of this entry.  I am working at the Royal Hospital for Neurodisability and it is in Putney.  Putney is just southeast of the center of London’s urban sprawl.  It is in a borough called Wandsworth.  My first encounter with Wandsworth is from the line from the film: Love Actually.  (Yes, they still say ‘film’ here.  It has a certain charm, like their pull-chain toilets… those born after 1970 may not have had that pleasure… but have no fear, just visit London!)  

Those of you who know me through my wife know already know that she is a huge fan of Hugh Grant’s hair.  Who isn’t?  I mean, it is really nice hair!  Well… OK, maybe she has never actually said that she is a fan of his hair.  Maybe there is some other quality that she sees in him.  However, after having seen many of his films (I am pretty sure I would have escaped this pleasure had I not met her) I am thinking his hair is really his nicest feature.  I don’t mean to demean any of his other qualities.  His hair is that good.  If Jesus had Hugh Grant hair, I don’t think anything about the miracles and parables would have made it into the Bible...  But nothing tops the ‘Four Weddings and A Funeral’ Hair, and what was he thinking in ‘About A Boy’???  

My first encounter with Putney was when I stepped off of the train on my way to the job interview.  I walked a dozen meters or so down the main road and turned down the side street and my jaw dropped.  There were front gardens (what we Americans call front yards)… and they were green, you know grass, shrubs, small trees, a few flowers along the walk and against the house… and not just one:  Every house had a green front garden!   I was overcome with euphoria from the momentary break in tarmac (asphalt), brick, and concrete.  It was like when colour coming into Pleasantville.  (Wow, I am starting to scare myself with all of these film references.)  Those of you who have visited may have noticed the conspicuous lack of grass in the old neighbourhood.  The new one, although much improved, still lacks green front gardens.  

Holloa!

Well, in the US, it is the day after: the light at the end of the tunnel. In just a few months and W will be a bad memory. Someone at work whom I cannot recall ever having spoken to before said to me as he passed me in the corridor, “It looks like your country is having a Tony Blair moment.” Most of you know that Tony Blair was the prime minister before Gordan Brown, the current one. I have to say that I think of Clinton when I think of Blair, but I was too surprised that he knew I was an American to even ask what he meant by that. Anyway, you would think that ‘the election’ (as it is referred to) was here. Just minutes ago, I was paying for an avocado at a local shop and someone said to the shopkeeper as he came in “What do you think about the election?” He gave a friendly non-committal answer and then turned to me and quietly said, “It is one thing to win an election; it is another, to run a country.” Now I know I have never seen this man before. I have never set foot in this shop. So there you go.
Here, today is Guy Fawkes Day. We don’t get it off. Guy Fawkes Day (also called Bonfire Night) is celebrated with fireworks, sort of like our Fourth of July, except it has nothing to do with independence or national origins. This guy was caught trying to blow up Parliament (which most of you know is somewhat analogous to the US Congress) while the king was addressing it (which would be analogous to a joint session, like during the State of the Union).  Anyway, there is a verse that all Brits seem to know:

Remember, remember the Fifth of November,
The Gunpowder Treason and Plot,
I can think of no reason
Why the Gunpowder Treason
Should ever be forgot.
Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes, t'was his intent
To blow up the King and Parli'ment.
Three-score barrels of powder below
To prove old England's overthrow;
By God's providence he was catch'd
With a dark lantern and burning match.
Holloa boys, holloa boys, let the bells ring.
Holloa boys, holloa boys, God save the King!

And fireworks going off around me as I write...  Holloa!

Our New Flat: The Movie

Following the popularity of our web entry, we have released a film based on the web entry.  Thus we enter the web-movie making generation with a video of our new flat:

Please note that the those of with dial-up connections (New Bedford parents) will not be able to view this video.

Andrew in Amsterdam

Andrew found himself in Amsterdam at the end of August, which is lucky for me on two counts. One and foremost, I got to see a childhood friend I haven’t seen in a while. Two, I got to have two days of summer. London was a cloudbank and barely got into the low 20s (low 70s) and that was in the heat of the day. My two days in Amsterdam were by contrast sunny and warm, I even got to wear a short sleeved shirt (although not in this picture) and didn’t even have to wear a jacket at night! (All right, I got the obligatory complaints about the London weather out of the way, which is required of all London residents.)

Andrew is still a proud dad, husband and senior project manager for Microsoft. As I said, the best part of the trip was seeing him. As we spent every available moment either toking wacky tobacky in the legendary ‘coffee shops’ (which explains my letting him be in charge of the map) or engaged in numerous sex acts in the legendary red light district, there is not much of that aspect of the trip I can share here. If you find that wholly unbelievable, that is because what we really did… a couple geeks in Amsterdam … we actually talked about childhood stuff that would be too weird and banal to post on a blog. Like I said, it was the best part.

The second best part was the hotel that Andrew was staying in. It is called Citizen M. It was awesome. The rooms were incredibly efficient in terms of space and technology. Notice how close together the room doors are. It was incredible. One picture is taken from the door and that other from the bed. As you can see, the toilet and shower are in glass tubes, which are opened in the picture. And there are different mood sequences you can set the room for to enhance it so when you close the tubes they are like giant light bulbs. The bed was huge and there were plenty of clever storage places. If I ever build my own bedroom, it will be almost an exact copy of this room. I absolutely loved it.

It was my second time in Amsterdam. My first time was something like 15 years ago. I visited Hannon in Germany on his postdoc. It is much like I remembered it. There are these concentric canals where every third street would be. It is lovely. And there are bicycles everywhere. We also saw the Anne Frank Museum. The picture shows the bookcase that they built in front of entrance to the hidden apartment: closed to hide the stairs and open to reveal them. It is very eerie to walk behind that bookcase. I suspect most of you are aware that her father, Otto was the only survivor of his family. He said in an interview that after reading the diary that no parent can know what his or her children are thinking because he thought he knew his daughter so well before he read it and realized afterward that he didn’t really. At his request, the secret apartment was left exactly as the Nazis left it, which was with all the furniture removed. There are lots of things on the walls, particularly in Anne's room. The warehouse portion of the building houses exhibits and, of course, a volume of the diary.

Moira Cameron

During our most recent trip to the Tower of London, we met Moira.  Moira is the very first woman Yeoman Warder (popularly refered to as Beefeaters).  Largely now a tourist attraction, the Yeoman Warders initially started as guards for the crown jewels in1485. Nowadays, Yeoman Warders are retired noncommissioned members of the armed forces.  They must have exemplary careers and hold certain medals. They live with their families live inside the tower.  As you can imagine, it is  a huge honour to serve as a Yeoman Warder.  

Moira Cameron, became a Yeoman Warder in 2007.  She joined the Army in 1985 at age 20, which makes her about 43 years old at the time of this posting.  

My wife was very excited to meet Moira.  She was kind and gracious enough to allow me to take this picture and was also genuine and full of positive energy.  And Moira was pretty cool too!

Our New Flat

As you many of you already know, we have recently moved into a new flat. While it is smaller and has less storage room than the first one, this one feels more like us. It has a large table so we can have visitors without resorting to folding garden chairs (although if you grew attached to the garden chairs in you last visit, we still have them!)  

It has an airiness to it: not to mention a kitchen. And we have our own toilet... and the shower is not in the bedroom... but the bathroom is not in the flat... you have to go into the hallway to access it. But it is our very own, well as long as we pay the rent that is. It has wood laminate floors, 

which is much easier to clean and better for our allergies. And the bed is not next to the main door, so we do not hear people  entering and leaving. It is also 15 cm wider than the bed at the other flat.  Who would have guessed that six inches could be so huge!  A friendly young Chinese couple live across the hall. And below them is a helpful and kind Italian woman. We have not talked to the rest of the house much yet. At this point, it seems unlikely that we will. The flat comes with wireless internet which gives us a better connection (and my wife could not connect at all before). 

There is a garden but it is full of building debris at the moment because they are modifying the ground floor flat. And I don't have a minefield of dog fouling to negotiate on my walk to work (a symptom of council housing near our previous flat).  We also live closer to many conveniences, several restaurants, cafes, and the like.  I do miss my Iranian laudry guy!  He let me borrow all of his Gypsy King CDs...