Pictures from Poland

Leon and cousins (from left to right, Jeff, Helen [Jeff's wife], Caroline, Leon, Becka, Ben, around the grave of Jacob Maurer, a cousin of their grandfather.

From MathPath: Winston W, now a counselor

Here's a picture of a particularly small camper from MathPath's summer at Spearfish, SD, 5 or so years ago (MathPath being the summer camp for middle school students that Steve works so hard to keep going). So small, in fact, that he fit inside a storage carton. Winston's now a rising sophomore at Harvard, and back at MathPath as a counselor.

L'dor vador (from generation to generation).

Mom's 85th at Mohonk

Here are some more pictures from Mom's 85th, which we celebrated three months late at Mohonk. So, Alex, and Aaron in the picnic grove, Views off the trails, Mom, Freddy & Mimi.

Wikipedia: the tutor of our childrens' youth

L&A both spend immense amts of time on Wikipedia, following links from place to place. Leon put up an article on Samuel Morey (an inventor from Orford, NH) a couple of years ago.

I find it most useful for understanding kids' references, e.g. to South Park (and underwear gnomes). For example, click here for a summary of the episode

Travel Diary: Fran & Steve in Italy

Transcribed From Travel Diary 4/27/08: Wked late the 25th – S away at dinner at St. Joe’s-- trying to wrap up things in an orderly way before leaving. Got home maybe 9 PM, cooked chicken, sort of did Shabbat w/ S. Got up, paid bills, paid Jt for Q1, packed, scurried out for ipod charger, Bose on-the-ear- earphones (maybe a mistake – they cost $40 more, and didn’t have the astounding sound I remembered.)

Walked – the dogwoods & azaeleas are all abloom and are just lovely. Walked down Riverview savoring peoples’ tulips & wood hyacinths. Barclays came & got us and we waited around Phila (both a tad cross & snappy)– I must be getting old – the plane (US Air) was on time & didn’t lose our bags, but trying to find a comfortable way to sit gets more an more difficult. The seats only recline about 2” – we should have been in hog heaven since I scurried over to an empty aisle seat next to an empty seat. I just hate the hours between when dinner ends and it begins to get light. OK – but it ended – these flights always do, and we did get our bags (I was afraid US Air would lose them as they did 5 yrs ago on the way to Wales) & wended our way to the car rental place (a feat). And we started S on the auto strada, in our little manual Hundai.

I dozed – the car seat being more comfortable than the plane seats had been and we had lunch at a rest stop on the highway (AutoGrill), where the food was nice and fresh (!): crusty bread, nice big salad w/ anchovies & fresh mozz. I perked up. S cross he couldn’t find bottled Starbucks, but there was a coffee bar where where you get 2T of fresh-made expresso.

We continued South. Directions not all that clear (not all exits have #s), and we chose wrong between the A3 & A30 (although directions had been clear we wanted A3) but we recouped. Headed through Naples, around the bay and to CastleMarre, climbing up & up. Lots of garbage piles (although the garbage strike is over in central Naples, the outlying areas still a mess). We climbed & climbed, w/ occasional squabbles as to which was the right road, whether I was an adequate navigator, catching more and more views of the bay and the cliffs around it.

The road went up, up, up, getting narrower & narrower. We stopped seeing garbage piles. We’re a bit south of Castellamarre, on the Amalfi Penninsula, in a 16th century monastary that was bought by the Guisso’s in the 18th century (bankers from Genoa). Incredible views of the bay & cliffs & mts. V. blue and sunny and cool.

4/28/08: After writing yesterday, we went to dinner at the big house (a 16th cent monastary disbanded by Napoleon & sold to the Guisso in the early 1800’s by the King of Naples) in the old monastery kitchen, w/ beautiful ceramic tiles. Herminia does translation for NATO and her friend Rose cooked: gnocchi w/ tomato sauce & wine & olive oil from their own trees and vines here. Zucchinis & spinach grown locally & lemons from the tree by our little house, and some kind of meat loaf (didn’t ask the contents), and then local oranges & Myrtillo (made by the farmers’ wives).

Villa Guisso used to be just a picnic site – then in 2002 a bunch of the women in the family thought of opening it for agriturismo (gets subsidies from the govt, to remodel old farmhouses for tourism). Takes a lot of effort to run – they served dinner for 18 the weekend before last, and then had to get & go to their day jobs on Monday.

Got up, walked around in the olive groves looking at the light and the views, breakfasted in the monastary kitchen & (eventually) headed off for Pompeii – got there about 11. Bought sandwiches & oranges & headed in.

Vast place – huge crowds in the parts nearest the entrance. The excavations are old—the plaster casts (of victims) themselves are crumbling & dusty & broken in places. The excavations probably lay open for decades & a lot of the best stuff is in the National Mus of Archael. The city seems vast & v. planned – streets & avenues v. straight and Vesuvius is farther off than one would think. We ate in picnic area – good sandwich and surprisingly sweet, juicy blood lranges that the stand-owner threw in for free.

Surprising dearth of restrooms, given the size & # of visitors – you can’t leave & return, so was sort of footsore, bursting & dehydrated when we left, but was much happier after peeing, drinking a bottle of H2O & having a coffee (the simple pleasures of life). Lots of the walls had been stabilized, also there’d probably been a lot of theft (site probably open for 100 years & is huge), so most of what you see is the structure of the town. Good audio guide, but 0 interpretive material on the site, so strangely empty.

Anyway, S got us to the Auchan Pompeii, where found soap, shampoo & artificial sweetener – I was pleased I manage to ask a saleslady where that was (also managed to read the sign that distinguished between free & paid parking). Came back, ate in a nearby rest – La Chiana – except I hadn’t read the map will and we missed the turn and headed up an impossibly narrow road and S had to turn around & retrace steps. Not great, but edible dinner for 50 euro, so about $75. At one point, S pulled a coffee bean from his tira misu out of his mouth asking what IS this thing, and I put it in my mouth & crunched it (w/o any hesitation) and said “a coffee bean”. Gross?

4/29/08: No hot water this morning in our house, so bathing was kind of miserable, but I cheered up with coffee & bread & cheese and the good local oranges. To Paestum today – best preserved Greek temples in Europe. S had remembered visiting in the evening. V. visually impressive: much more than Pompeii. I chouldn’t stop looking at the huge masses of Doric columns, a little squat looking.

S had me drive on the way there, on the Autostrada – was nervous. Italians swoop in from every side (S joked that he’s the only driver in all of Italy who signals before changing lanes – he may be right. But I got us there & S got to look at scenery & (he later told me) figure out how he wanted to come home.) I don’t navigate well, quoth he—don’t keep track of turns in the roads and where the RR tracks are. I navigate perfectly fine in the US, where maps show names of roads and intersections are labelled w/ Road names. But, I acknowledge, I fall far short of Maurer standards (but who measures up? Does L?)

I kept thinking how short my life was compared to these – felt (momentarily) freed from all my angst and anger abt work. Kept thinking – Eliz Gilchrest can devote pages of joy to a pizza in Eat, Pray, Love, can’t I summon up joy for these ancient shrines?

We had a nice lunch in the fancy, overpriced rest. (Neptune) that overlooks the site and the temples conveyed a kind of peace. 2,500 yrs, and they’re still there. Probably the oldest thing I’ve ever seen. So huge, one out of a white travertine, one of a warmer, browner travertine. V. spare, but the texture of the rock gave all kinds of interest. I took 1000s of pix from all kinds of angles.

We listened to an english tour gide (in a purple shirt, w a purple sweater tied around his shoulders. Eliz Gilbert’s Eat, Pray, Love (Italy, India & Indonesia) spends 2 pp on her ecstacy eating pizza to Pizzera da Michele (naples – address is in Fodors) – she goes on & on. I thought, shouldn’t , a middle-aged Mom of 2 draw similar joy from these three three amazing temples. And, I am happy; my angst & anger at work seem far far away (I wrote that before, didn’t I). Vg museum – I hadn’t expected much but was v. impressed. These have Lucaniaen tomb pantings (these fold came inbetween the greeks and romans), with an odd energy. (e.g. Tomb of the Diver).

Long, long set of exhibit posters in Italian I kept trying to decipher: My Athenian guest, hast thou never met a happy man? Was S’s and my joint effort. It annoyed me so not to be able to make it out, but words swam into focus (uomo = homo = man, mai = never, hai = 2nd pers sing of have). Am in this fog of cognates: ieri = hier = yesterday. Oggi = hoje = today. Bisogno = besoin = need.

Roads are SO scary as they climb up & down the mtside. I can’t imagine what it’s like to have a kid learning to drive, here. La Chiana closed on tues, but (thank heavens) they fed us here, w lots of their nice white wine. S & I finished a whole pitcher between us.

4/30/08: To Naples, to the Archeol Mus, didn’t get there till noon (by the time we got to Vico, found the laundry – S gravely disappointed in my lack of navigational skill. Then scurried to try to find the train station & figure out where to park. The ticket reader for day tickets didn’t work. Anyway, the CircumVesuvianse got us there, and there are wonderful things. All the frescoes & mosics & silver & bronze cookware from Pompeii. Sappho & Flora & Alexandre fighting Darius – all great old pictures we only know from Roman copies.

S wanted to sit & plan , but I got him to agree to split, so I got into the Roman/Greek exhib from Naples area (tombs w/ figures leave-taking) & the Secret Cabinet (erotic) before they closed for lack of staff. S worried abt getting back in time fto pick up laundry (tomorrow being May Day), so first I persuaded him to walk back but then he nixed waiting till the Duomo opened at 4:30 so we scurried thr grimy, crowded alleys – too narrow to call them streets—till we got back to the train station. We found the laundry still open – checked email at an internet café, came back & ate at the B&B.

5/2/08: yest, got up early & drove out to Ravello – on Giovanna’s advice we left @ 8:30, got there by maybe 10:30(?) went to see the Duomo (v. nice pulpits, w/ mosaics of Jonah and the whale – bronze doors were being restored). Air v. fresh & cool & everything in bloom. We walked around to old churches, saw Villa Rufolo (where the Ravello festival is held every year). Sat happily below the cloister listening to a Romantic sounding violin & piano sonata (Schumann?) and watching reflections from a movile on the stone walls. Had lunch, went to Villa Combrone – gardens full of wisteria and a plaque in Italian on the wall saying, as far as I could make out, that here, in the spring of 1938, Greta Garbo left the clamour of Hollywood (these words per S – I thought she’d left a guy named Clayton Hollywood) and found a scret happiness with Leopold Stowkowski. (Like Washington slept here? Can you imagine).

Anyway, by that time I was feeling a bit creaky and tired from walking around – S had brought his walk book & figured out a 40 min stroll from the beginning & end of two hikes. It was a lot of down & up steps, but pretty views, all through these dense, terraced & fenced plots of olives, lemons, & oranges.

In the middle of the walk was an old, toothless man sitting in the sun and saying “Che bella vista”. And it was.

OK, so I had a coffee (S had said I should drive home & bargained him into driving down the hairpin turns to the main coast road (which turned out to be an hour of stop & go to 10k…AND it turned out that the narrow stretch I was scared of only goes 1 way at a time in the afternoon. On the stop & start to Amalfi, I vomited a few times out the door, for no reason. I wanted to see the Duomo in Amalfi & S indulgently drove around while I looked. Outside & mosaic portal were lovely. Inside, all Baroque & I didn’t venture out into the cloister Fodors’ said was so lovely (the “Cloister of Paradise”) but scurried down the huge, wide steps, back to S and the car.

And drove back to Sorrento – all hairpin turns & tunnels and road narrowed by illegally parked cars everywhere & motor scooters darting to the left & right & cutting you off at every opportunity. Oh, and S giving helpful advice on when to be in what gear. I finally told him if he couldn’t manage a tactful & supportive tone to confine himself to gently patting my arm to give encouragement.

OK, so we drove & drove, traffic mercifully light except going through Pasitano to Sorrento (Giovanna said a pity to miss). Couldn’t find public parking & drove this way & that (S annoyed because didn’t have a detailed map, felt unprepared) but we finally did find a place & parked, or rather, the old man who ran the parking lot laughingly backed the car into a space w/ S’s direction – I was too tired.

So we walked & walked into Sorrento & down to the Marina where the “down home” Da Emilia is located. We came along w/ a group of 4 Americans (it was down a long, dar, winding street/alley) also looking for the same place, and a couple other Americans also waiting. Place full and staff / owners hurrying back & forth. I worked out a polite question from the phrasebook: “Good evening, sir, we have no reservation (tavola prenotada), e posivel…” and the owner said, sure, where did I want to sit & I said, “Qualquer” (wherever in Spanish – should have been qualunque) – he corrected me “Dov é” and put us at what is usually a service table.

I had grilled fish & salad; S had pasta & salad, the owner laughed when he gave us the bill & shook may hand & said “Troppo gente” (too many people). S worked w/ tapes & says his pronunciation is better than mine and why do I always butt into his speaking but I do think I catch more of what’s said.

Anyway, it took less than an hour to get back to the B&B and this morning we lazed, packed, Giovanna gave us a tour of the attic of the monastery – where she’s made displays of travel trunks, childrens’ toys, (incl a toy set of the implements of the mass, so kids would learn the names), cradles, her grandfather’s grandmother’s dress from Paris, bought on her honeymoon – she only wore it once because when she wore it in Naples, her Grandfether’s Grandfather left the party in a huff because everyone was looking at her.

She didn’t let S pay for the 2 extra meals we had at the house because of the water/heat problem. S made me drive to the firsty service area on the Autostrada, So I crept down the mountain in 2nd gear. He joked he wasn’t scared a bit because I was going so slowly. And NOW if you please, we’re near Taranta (the arch of the foot if Italy is a boot) on a huge farm (vast orange orchards) on the Tenuta of the Visconti de Modrone.

We’re in the top floor of a restaurante buliding, once a stables – 2 BR & a bath (2nd BR not occupied). The booklet shows

Maria Xenia Doria – v. pretty & ash blonde, with her son Humberto (aged 7 or so)
An older woman w/ dogs (Duchess Xenia)
And a less glamourous blond woman w/ a young man.

The text mentions: Duke & Duchess Marcello & Xzenia Visconti di Modrone
Their daughter, Marina Doria
And Maria Xenia Doria, current manager.

But, who is who? I’m all atwitter.

(Part 2): Maria Xenia came up to say hi, & 2 of the pix must be of her (one from long ago). We talked abt the farming she does (EU ag subsidies are 2nd only to the US, aren’t they) & agriturismo (there are govt subsidies to restore old farm bldgs). Her grandfather had 10k ha before land reform & 105 ha after. (G-d forgive me; I murmured “that must have been hard”). She also does weddings & rescues & finds homes for abandoned dogs (she loves dogs).

Dinner table & in car from S: that Pythagoros set up his school of philosophy in Crotone – he borrowed from Jews (they only ate meat that could be sacrificed). And then Pythag fled w/ his disciples to Metapontum. S interest in 1st Punic war because it shows how pointless war is. About 80k died at Canae in 1 day. I know how what was the bloodiest US battle (Antietam, 5k); 6k died at Normandy. 25 k at Gettysburg, but that was 3 days.

He visited Gottengen when in Germany, out of reverence for the center it’d been before the Nazis threw out the Jewish mathemeticians.

5/3/08: (Did I say that dinner main course was pork? S ate mine. Not a loss that much, I ate dessert (a marmelade tart) w/ a clear conscience. We got up early next AM for Crotone – where Pythagoras lived and where Hannibal embarked for Carthage. Long drive down through beach towns. S excitedly reading to me from the Blue Guide about history and Frederick II who he somehow felt had confronted Martin Luther (but how could he; it was 300 yrs too soon); interesting, but hard to follow. Hard to find a place to have lunch in Crotone (though G-d handed us a parking place near the Piazza Pitagora). Cape Colonna – outside town – was pretty & grassy, with a column for a Temple of Hera, & S had all these passages from Livy and another historian he wanted to read.

Hannibal was boxed into southern Italy at the end for 15 years, and the Hannae got the Carthag govt to recall him – he cried. A Roman general killed H’s brother, cut off the brother’s head, and threw it at H’s feet. Can you imagine?? Livy was more pro-Roman than Polybius. Hannibal & Scipio, his nemesis, met as old men & talked about who were the world’s best generals. Drove into town in search of the museum – next to a nice castle. Well done National Mus – but few of the placards had English.

We started back. I called A at one point, who was watching a quiddich match, but chatted some about classes (v. behind in anth – class is, that is, because teacher was sick for a week). Then S started barking that I was using too much time – there was only 30 Euros. I’d talked 6 min. I got v. mad & wouldn’t talk to him for a stretch – he eventually apologized.

(Much cheaper for people to phone us from the US, and S bought $20 phone card, but it’s an extra 15 digits + it stopped working in mid-trip & gave Leon only voicemail messages in Chinese.)

OK, so we drove back. S had been afraid a resv would box him in, but we did have a list of restaurants, but couldn’t find ones on the list in Policoro. Drove & walked & walked but found nary a place. Finally we found a restaurant that seemed empty (it was maybe 9 PM), except for one family, who banged on a door & rousted out a server, who seated us. He asked, did we want antipasta & I said yes, but no meat, please (thinking veggies) & he brought shrimp, muscles, octopus. Then three > plates, one of which seemed like it had once had fins & scales. (S actually liked the octopus). Then some fried fish. In S Italian restaurants, you apparently sometimes don’t get a menu – they serve what they serve.

4-5 other families (some w/ little kids) cam in so by about 10:30 (when I asked for salad & check), the restaurant was full, and we hadn’t gotten a main course yet. They were just getting going.

We drove back, phoned L (who was amused by my account of the phone fight). His experiments are going ok, and he’s started to write (hopes to get better results, but wisest not to rely on that). A bit over a month till graduation. How odd to think that.

Got up in AM & packed – S crove to Metapontum & also found the remnants of the Apollo Temple. By the time we got to near Trani, the church would be closed, which bothered me because it’s supposed to be v. striking & Romanesque. I fussed & sulked.

We drove to Cannae – stopped at the battlefield (said to be extraordinarily bloody – 50k Roman troops killed in a single day). I bought a booklet – read some, listened to my ipod for a while, looked at wildflowers (lots of poppies) while S looked & thought.

We used the facilities (no water to wash with in the outside bldg we were directed to – I outraged and made the guy at the desk inside the main bldg let me use the staff’s indoor sink – but that didn’t work either, but the professional staff’s sink had a trickle of water).

And then we drove & drove & drove some more – through scenery abt as inspiring as the NJ Turnpike, SE Italy being v. flat. It was the third day of mostly driving & of course I complained.

5/6 (Tues) I had to work out what day it is. Yesterday (5/5) we drove across the Apennines, largely in the rain. Long stretch of 2 lane road. S. disappointed because the B&B host in Abruzzi had suggested a more northerly route than he’d had in mind, and there were no snow-capped peaks (even though we’d seen snow-capped peaks from Lorento Apruntino, where we’d spent the night). It was a long drive in the rain, but we made it over the mts & down into Umbria (by then it was 1 PM or so) and no rest stops along the road, so I finally blundered off the road in suburban Perugia and we went & ate at the first restaurant we found. The people next to us were eating polenta & pork on a board w/ great enjoyment (not on the menu – we asked. They had gd English & were amused at us).

Anyway, I was afraid the B&B would also be in a suburb, but we’re high on a hill in “Il Castello di Montegualandro”, first mentioned around the time of Charlemange. We have a nice apt (formerly a dovecote) w/ a view that goes for miles.

We got in, got settled a min or so & (my urging) headed out (in the rain) to Arezzo to see the frescoes of Piero della Francesca: the Legend fo the True Cross ([Basilico de San Francesco]Fodors quotes an art critic who says the battle scene had the most beautiful morning light in Renaissance painting). Also, pointed out S, a pioneer in perspective.

OK, saw that, wandered around a bit (v. picturesque, steep streets w/ lots of irresistable things to buy [not that I bought anything]), Looked at a couple of churches, headed S to Crotona, where we had reservations in a v. friendly & (I thought) elegant restaurant, full of Americans & Scandinavians. I was v. amused S packed his Italian grammar into his pack to take, but in fact, he ordered better than me, and waitress impressed.

Got up late today-- lovely, clear, cool day--& pottered & checked email & didn’t get out til 11:00. Headed to Assisi & the Basilica of St Francis (lower level built w/in a couple years of his death). Made our way through swarms of returning tour groups & school trips, so our timing was unintentionally good.) Bought a book to follow the frescoes in the upper chapel. S. pointed out how unified the Basilica is compared to usual cathedrals w/ their accretions of chapels & statues & placques. I felt like I’d spent 40 min in another world.

Went off to the Duomo, which didn’t do much for me & St. Chiara (frescoes much more primitive) & headed for Perugia. Saw the money changers hall (filled with pictures of civic virtues) & Duomo (in process of restoration – one picture I liked of a startled-looking Mary) & Umbrian National Gallery, which had an exhibition of Pintorrichios. 90% -- maybe 95% of the pix were Madonna & child. I felt like I’d spent the afternoon eating pastry. The English translations of the explanations often unintentionally literal. I of course thought they should get a US intern to fix them up. (oh, vg Madonna & child by Piero de la Francesca).

Drove all over Touro looking for a grocery store – it turned out we’d driven right by it -- & dashed in as it closed to buy milk & cereal. At at La Tuffa in Ossia – perfectly ok & unassuming. We decided too late to try washing clothes in Star Wash (get it?).

Talked 15 min w/ A: he will room in language house w/ Granger & a kid who needs to cook for self (celiac disease?). Also, plans to drive out w/ L & L will give him car (but not clear he’s allowed to drive it at school). He got 4.5 / 5 on Medieval history, 9/10 on homeworks in Math. Anth class is pitifully behind, but the subst teacher is ok.

5/7/08: Up early to go to Sienna – out by 8:20. Got there w/o incident, parked, drank coffee at the campo (huge square). I wasn’t that impressed by the city – brick, and the buildings don’t make as pleasant streets as in Arezzo or Cortona. Saw Municipal Museum, v. graphic depictions of the effects of good & bad govt. Bought a ridiculous # of magnets.

Duomo really splendid – inside & out—black & white horizontal striped marble. Incredibly intricate floor. Library w/ frescoes of Pintoricchio & trompe l’oeil arches, and perspective so each pictures view was consistent from where you stand. Saw Museo (which has all the most beautiful stuff that was once in the Cathedral) & S climbed to the top of the unfinished wall. (Early 14th century, the town planned to enlarge its cathedral by making the nave the apse, but after the Black Death killed a large part of the town, they had to abandon the plan – leaving what were to be several external walls just standing there – they then got built against.

Had lunch (for once, we found a place Fodor’s recommended). Beside us were 3 middle-aged ladies in a long, intense discussion – clearly something they were v. worked up about. At first I thought family problem, gossip, kids. Their voices gradually got more and more heated. No, they were arguing politics for most of our 2 hour lunch – I could make out left, right, Berlusconi. They got really loud at one point, and one shushed the others, and Steve and I started laughing, and they looked over at us, startled, and we said, we argue about politics too.

V. expressive murals uncovered in the crypt during maintenance – just like the Basilica of St F in Assisi, there was one church built over another – at one point, you realize that what you think of as a crypt is the upper layer of a much older church.

5/9/08: To Orvietto – cathedral built by the town – they had to struggle to pay & couldn’t afford Fra Angelica for the whole Capella Nuova – heaven & hell & Last Judgement, and had to settle for Signorelli instead. Other chapel based on Corpus Christi miracle – a 13th century priest doubted Transubstantiation (you remember transubstantiation vs. con? – Wikipedia has a good article) and found, as he served Mass in a small, nearby church, that the Host bled. Walls of the chapel covered with frescoes of miracles connected with the Host, including a Jewish boy who snuck in w/ Xn friends at Xmas & partook. His Father threw him into a burning furnace, but a beautiful Lady (who was actually the Virgin M) saved him.

That’s all I wrote during vacation – It’s a week after. After Orvietto, we had lunch in Todi (a v. pretty hilltop town) & walked around. Lovely views over the countryside, v. pretty park at the top of the hill. Went to Deruta & I bought abt 300 Euros worth of pottery (2 plates & a bowl) and S went into the museum. I got pretty substantial discounts for paying cash, & had fun chatting with the potters / storekeepers.

Next day, we headed back to Rome via Tuscania – which had a pretty – very bare – Romanesque church and is chock-full of Etruscan sarcophagi. (these zoftig ladies & men in banqueting position). One place we saw 3 of the ladies up on top of a wall. Went to the provincial museum – almost empty.

Got to Airport Mariott ok (S doing skillful navigation) [I got w/ points from my time in the Sao Paulo Renaissance], and ate a v. expensive dinner (and I ate an even more expensive breakfast but S ate up all the food we’d accumulated) & headed for the airport. (where I finally got a good internet connection & learned that AIG had lost another $US 7 billion). Ugh.

To leave, we dropped off our car, schlepped our stuff to Terminal C, got on a bus to auxiliary terminal E, went through screening (one line) and checked our bags & checked in (another line) and THEN went on another shuttle bus back to Terminal C, and THEN found our gate & waited for the flight. Long flight, same horrible seats & I had a kosher lunch again (also pretty awful, not that the regular was better). I read 2 ½ Donna Leons and needlepointed. We got home on time, but our bags took more than an hour (total from when we landed) to emerge, and then we were randomly picked for some agricultural check which I fussed over but which turned out to be nothing. (I had my Deruta plates packed into the 1 Euro reusable bag we’d gotten at the Pompeii Auchan – my hands got sore from holding it).

And then we were home.

Physics Dept - Holiday Colloquia

Leon's Graduation, June 2008

I got home late Thurs, got up early Fri & walked (air v. sweet) – we didn’t get off till 9:30 or so (much to S’s displeasure), and totally relied on S for directions, schedules, and when to be where. Drove up listening mostly to Conspiracy of Fools (abt Enron), which did get kind of repetitive. Kept thinking abt reading Goodnight Moon to L, when he was maybe 6 months, and how he’d put his tiny hand on my finger as I pointed to the telephone and the red balloon and the picture of the cow jumping over the moon.

We got to the B&B (Jackson House, outside Woodstock) maybe 4:30 – scurried in to park & join L waiting in line (w/ hundreds of other beaming parents) to greet Pres Wright & join a reception at his house. L relieved that his thesis defense had gone well – the theoreticians hadn’t asked hard questions. I said, maybe the theoreticians were secretly in awe of experimentalists – JJ Thompson (not that I could remember his name at the time), who could devise expts, but (according to his son, was clumsy & it was best to keep him from touching equipment). L started talking abt the Pauli effect – a physicist who jinxed expts.

Pres House is on Frat row (pretty noisey, acc. to L). Pres W is a tall ex-marine – imposing & kindly manner. He & wife greeted each family, and a student aide took that family’s camera, & shot a picture of the family with the pres. The house is gorgeous – incl paintings from the college museum, 12 needlepoint chairs embroidered by the wife of a former pres, and the Wrights’ collection of Han & Tang dynasty chinese figures (an amazing figure on a leaping horse, 1,100 yrs old).

Picked Mom & Sid up at the train & ate dinner at a casual-dining place in Queechee. I kept beaming at L and he kept saying he hasn’t had his picture taken so much in his life. (well, it may have been more than any single day in his infancy, after all, I didn’t have to hold him or diaper him).

Left Mom & Sid at the B&B & scurried in to Class Day, thinking how grateful I was to have lived to this day – sh’hechiyanu -- . Class Day in a cleared hollow in the woods – v. pretty & piney. Valedictorians announced (4.0 avgs) and class orator gave a vg speech (when he arrived in Hanover, on scholarship, from overseas, his father gave him an envelope with cash for the family share of tuition. He left it on his desk, locked in his room, while he went exploring. He found it gone when he returned. He was petrified – he didn’t know anyone in the US. His RA found him in tears, reported the problem – Pres Wright handed him an envelope w/ a check for the amt he’d lost when he matriculated. Whom did he owe? How to pay back?

Then all sorts of prizes were announced – super-students who excelled at their studies and at sports and were presidents of frats & sororities & excelled at good works. They came dashing up, one by one. The class historians gave a skit.

Weather heated up.

I was supposed to meet Jo Albert for coffee after Class Day exercises . We agreed to meet for coffee at the Dirty Cowboy @ 12:30. S, L and I went to meet prof Chernov – whom L had for 5 classes. S had recruited him to come for 2 weeks to MathPath. He was v. complimentary abt L – showed us around the math bldg. Jo & I talked in the Dirty Cowboy – L refused to come & be shown off, since he had a lot to do, incl pack--she’s been at World Bank for 21 yrs now. Robbie left for Brookings.

S and I set off to spring Mom & Sid for lunch– I called L who somewhat disappt’d not to be incl in lunch (S said he should have come & talked to Jo). We had lunch in Woodstock, thendrove back to Hanover for physics dept reception.

Met L’s advisor. Karl Yando’s parents. Dept chair sounded for order, made a short speech about what a pleasure it is to see students mature – you taught them as freshmen & looked at their homework; you taught them as seniors, & listened to their presentations, and were astonished at the change. He gave L the Ast & Physics prize in honor of F. Sears. “Awarded to a graduating senior for significant contributions to the Department and unusual achievement as an undergraduate and for the promise of continued commitment to the study of physics”.

There were maybe 4-5 prizes following, among the 17 majors.

We beamed, had the dept chair re-enact the gift (after the presentations) so we could take pix, received congratulations. Talked to dept chair, other profs & students, and also the dept manager, who was once a submariner, returned to take care of elderly parents.

Went back to B&B, had yummy dinner (I thought) at their restaurant, went to sleep early. Up early (Sid had tickets for handicapped seating, Mom, Sid & I had to be in place by 8:30, so we had to be out by 7:30). We got into place w/ no problem, and annointed selves w/ sunscreen. I scurried off to by NYT & hat. S parked & found a seat in the general section. Rumours of a 4 hour ceremony. (the sun was baking – I was wearing black because that’s the color my nice washable clothes are. How I envied the lithe young things in sundresses).

By the time I returned, Sid had located all mentions of L’s name in program (cum laude, high honors in subject). I settled down to read NYT & wait – we were huddled in the small amt of shade afforded by a camera platform.

The commencement seemed to take forever.

It ended. Leon came striding toward us. We decided to go to Margaritas for lunch & they had room (glory be!). S and L went off for cars, I hung out w/ Mom & Sid and snapped pix of the families – they were so international. A Hawiian undergrad, wreathed in leis to the eyebrows. Senegalese (it looked like to me, or maybe Malian) Dr. Two Japanese – a PhD & an undergrad.. We ate – S recalled the points of the speeches much better than I did. L left for a bike ride (30 + miles in the heat) , Mom, Sid & S napped, I strolled through Woodstock, and bought 4 paperback mysteries.

We rejoined L for late dinner. L didn’t want appetizers – he’d end up like me. I pouted. In the parking lot, I said we looked like shrimp next to him. I was a stout shrimp. A stout, silly shrimp, he replied. A stout silly, sleepy shrimp, I retorted. He patted me on the head.

We headed back, slept, breakfasted. Dropped Mom & Sid at the train a little early, headed in for Leon & to meet his history of sci prof. Nice chat – we went to the coop where I bought way too much food, but forgot plastic forks. L filled up car. Terrible heat, even in NH.

We set out for a rest stop near Brattleboro, but when we stopped, the man in the next car noticed smoke coming from the green Subaru. Great consultation about what it was. We went to Brattleboro, to a brake & muffler place, where they put it up on the rack, but didn’t see much of a leak, and the transmission fluid (it turned out to be differential) seemed normal. They pronounced us good to go. We (Leon & I, in my car, so I could listen to ATC) drove to the Merritt pkway, where I got a no-cal red bull (Starbucks has too much sugar – 30g). Leon tired of ATC and switched to the Subaru w/ S at the top of the Garden State.

I drove down the GS, listening to Joshua bell playing the Brahms Violin concerto – the finale – I guess I was high on the Red Bull – I was so happy. I guess I should stop worrying over whether I was a good enough Mom. I must have been ok, mustn’t I? Got home w/o further incident, bit after 8:30. Got L takeout at Chen Heng.

Map showing Steve & Fran's travels in Italy

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The Fall of AIG

Here are links to a series that came out this week in The Washington Post on The Fall of AIG

The Beautiful Machine: the birth of the Financial Products Division
A Crack in the System: Credit Default Swaps
Downgrades and downfall

Here's a profile of Gary Gorton, a finance professor at Yale's School of Management, who worked with the Financial Products group for 12 years, designing risk models for Credit Default Swaps. His paper, "The Panic of 2007" will be published this year in the American Economic Review.

Here's a link to an interview on Fresh Air (NPR) with Michael Greenberger (Former Commodities Futures Trading Commissioner) that aired in late September. Siyi's 9 year old son remarked after hearing it that he finally understood what Credit Default Swaps were.

The Moose (Woody Allen)

(Recounted by Penni Starer at the November Empty Nester shabbat, inspired by a piece on Moose Hunting on All Things Considered)

The Moose

I shot a moose, once. I was hunting up-state New York, and I shot a moose, and I strap him on to the fender of my car, and I'm driving home along the west side highway, but what I didn't realize was, that the bullet did not penetrate the moose. It just creased the scalp, knocking him unconscious. And I'm driving through the Holland tunnel - the moose woke up. So I'm driving with a live moose on my fender. The moose is signaling for a turn, y'know. There's a law in New York state against driving with a conscious moose on your fender, tuesday, thursday and saturday. And I'm very panicky, and then it hits me: some friends of mine is having a costume party. I'll go, I'll take the moose, I'll ditch him at the party. It wouldn't be my responsibillity.

So I drive up to the party and I knock on the door. The moose is next to me. My host comes to the door. I say "Hello. You know the Solomons". We enter. The moose mingles. Did very well. Scored. Two guys were trying to sell him insurance for an hour and a half. Twelve o'clock comes - they give out prices for the best costume of the night. First price goes to the Burcowiches, a maried couple dressed as a moose. The moose comes in second. The moose is furious. He and the Burcowiches lock antlers in the living room. They knock each other unconscious. Now, I figured, is my chance. I grab the moose, strap him onto my fender, and shoot back to the roads, but - I got the Burcowiches. So I'm driving along with two jewish people on my fender, and there's a law in New York State ... tuesdays, thursdays and especially saturday.

The following morning the Burcowiches wake up in the woods, in a moose suit. Mr. Burcowich is shot, stuffed and mounted - at the New York Athletic Club, and the joke is on them, because it's restricted.

Ruth Kempner Obituary: Houston Chronicle

(Ruth Kempner, my mother's mother's sister's daughter, who spent some months staying with Mom's & Mimi's family in the 1930's, when her parents wanted to break off an unsuitable relationship, died over the summer. I only met her a few times; only heard her speak publicly at a memorial service for her brother, Marion Jr. She & Harris had two sons, one of whom -- Sandy--died in Vietnam. Harris and Ruth collected Sandy's letters and published them privately -- a couple often get quoted. I wish I'd known her better.)

GALVESTON - A memorial service is scheduled today for Ruth Levy Kempner, the first woman
elected to a governmental post in Galveston and the influential matriarch of one of the
island's oldest and most distinguished families.

Kempner died Monday at the age of 90 in her home. She was instrumental in changing government from the city commission form to the city-manager-run charter government in 1960 and remained a force in Galveston politics until the end, friends and relatives say. Kempner was known for her direct style in politics, tempered by her graciousness and selfless efforts to help those in need.

"One of the pillars has been knocked down," said Jan Coggeshall, elected Galveston's first female mayor in 1984. "She's been a pillar for 60 years." She was mentor to Coggeshall and the current mayor, her niece, Lyda Ann Thomas.

Kempner was born Nov. 26, 1917, in Galveston, the daughter of Marion J. and Alma L. Levy. An early feminist, she graduated from the University of Texas with honors in 1937, "majoring in history and minoring in government at a time when proper young ladies daring enough to demand a college education were at least expected to limit their studies to home economics or education," according to Galveston, a History of the Island, by Gary Cartwright.

In 1939, she married Harris "Bush" Kempner, a Harvard graduate who ran the family cotton interests as his uncle ran the banking business and Harris Kempner's brother ran Imperial Sugar, Cartwright said. Ruth Kempner became head of the local Red Cross chapter and worked tirelessly to care for the injured after a ship carrying ammonium nitrate fertilizer exploded in Texas City in 1947, killing hundreds. "She was one of the first people across the causeway to help," said Frances K. Harris, Kempner's friend since they were school girls.

In 1960, Kempner and Harris, then president of the local League of Women Voters, defied incumbent politicians, men's civic clubs, the Chamber of Commerce, the local newspaper and nearly the entire business community by campaigning for a charter government, according to Cartwright. The two women mobilized voter support for a referendum on replacing the commission form of government and its questionable practices, Harris recalled. "She and I spoke with organizations all over the community, including the red-light district and the unions," Harris said.

After the form of government changed, Kempner was elected to the City Council, becoming the first woman to hold an elective office in the city. Dr. Jack Wallace, a friend for nearly 50 years, said Kempner raised money for a mobile mammography unit after discovering how difficult it was to get checked for breast cancer. She realized that a mobile unit was needed to ensure that the poor and uninsured could receive mammograms, Wallace said. "That mobile mammography unit was a reality in a year."

She is survived by her son, Harris L. Kempner Jr. and two grandsons.