and bonding of cousins from 3 to 16.
On Saturday, we went to the city and while Andra and Irene were getting some culture at the play "Wishful Drinking" - a one-woman show by a recovering alcoholic Carrie Fisher (Princess Leia), Alik and I were inspecting various flavored vodka at the nearby establishment with the promising name "Russian Vodka Room" (click on the picture on the left). My body was delivered home in the morning in my absence. How ironic.
Max overheard us talking about the fall of Berlin Wall (today is 20th anniversary) and asked, very concerned - are they going to fix it?
]. Max didn't care much for it, making a point that unlike sculptures, the pictures we can study on the Internet. So, we saw some "real 3-D art" - Greek and Roman stuff and then an amazing exhibit of Japanese arms. 14 century samurai swords [
], blades smooth and shiny like a brand new Toyota. Then, some Rodin, Europeans, impressionists, until, at a Van Gogh painting[
], Max declared that art makes him hungry. We got out, had hot dogs [
], walked a bit and sat down for a proper lunch [
]. We finished the day with a stroll through the Central Park - beautiful colors, soft low late afternoon November sun, faint smell of starting to rot leaves, red berries on graying trees [
].
Dad finished the 26.75 miles in 4 hours 25 minutes. Since he overshot the official 26.22 marathon by more than a half-a-mile, he now claims that he finished the distance in 4:20.
For the past two weeks, in the evenings, Max and I teamed up biking / running to Westport downtown, joining there Irene, N.B. and occasionally Leon for a Starbuck.
ekend, our team rides ended.
Max's birthday this year fell on Sunday and we celebrated it with a large friends&family gathering. It was pouring rain up to the moment where people start arriving so we had to move the festivities indoor, but it worked out just fine. Max got tons of new Legos and stayed up late, well past midnight, churning out the assembled toys like a little factory. All it was left by the morning was a pile of empty carton boxes and clear plastic bags.
Celebrated the 20th anniversary with an impromptu gourmet BBQ gathering. Apparently, plenty of butter, rosemary and thyme makes any last-minute grill stuff gourmet...
engineered intersection of a number of bodies moving from different directions at subsonic speed had occurred precisely as planned at a certain door at a certain JFK terminal reuniting us with our dear friend Slava Krause who I haven't seen for more than 16 years (Irene saw him in '97). But it was like we parted yesterday. We spent three days and nights non stop catching up on the past and sight seeing the local surroundings and New York. The weather, thankfully, cooperated.
stage of the tour, from a couple of breakaway riders to the main pack, flew by us in a couple of minutes, but the whole spectacle started about an hour earlier. First came a sponsor caravan - plastered in ads, commercial-blasting vehicles with costumed characters throwing some promotional items into the crowd. After that came a long line of official and VIP vehicles. Then, after some pause, we heard thumping noise of TV helicopter and saw the blinking lights of the main motorcade. It sure looked more impressive than Obama's inaguration. Lots and lots of police cars and motor
cycles with sirens on, swiping the entire road curb-to-curb, scaring off the spectators creating a safe bubble for the riders behind. The breakaway group zipped by next followed by a couple of team cars. Another few minute pause, another helicopter, even more police and then finally the main pack followed by scores of team cars, emergency vehicles, some stray left behind riders and finally more police. The moment the last official vehicle passed, the road workers on trucks dismantled and picked up the metal barriers and few minutes later the road was open to traffic and life went back to normal.
in the athlete's native language ("allez, allez" for French nationals, "go, go" for the English-speaking and "давай-давай" for the Russians). I was stunned by his not only remembering the names of each of 180 riders but also by recognizing their low profile flying by at 45mph. To me, they all looked the same: woosh-helmet-ass-woosh.... I told Leon that I am really impressed by his mental prowess hinting that perhaps he could direct a fraction of this power to the studies. "Duh, Dad", said Leon, "the name is written on the support car following the guy..."
could not possibly get any better, Irene said that we must go see Cap Ferrat - a semi-secluded place of rich and famous on a cape halfway between Nice and Monaco. But of course - rich and famous and us are like milk and honey, or, better put, honey and flies, where they go - we must follow. Irene and Max went on a bus and Leon and I followed on the bikes. The place was quaint and nearly empty, green, pastel colored villas and cobblestone streets spiraling down to the port. We went to the beach where we had lunch and then bought for a couple of hours a little place under the sun. I have to give it to Irene, swimming-wise, this was the best I've had so far. Sorry Aruba, Bermuda, California, Florida, Eilat, Long Island, Maryland, New Jersey, Volga and 
Norwalk YMCA, where it's either too hot or too cold, too windy or too stale, too choppy or too flat... At Cap Ferrat, they've got the all the controls right.
a!
going up and down, around and through the mountains and seaside villages. At times the road was quite packed with traffic and the air was full of exhaust fumes. One of the French paradoxes - the bus schedule informs you how many carbohydrates your trip is going to burn, they recycle religiously and drive these little itsy-bitsy cars and noisy mopeds, but the pollution even on a seaside local road is more pronounced than during the peak hour on the Times Square. Still - everything around is so picture perfect and the drivers are gracious and patient and you ready to forgive them this little collective B.O.
rding to Leon, but I'm happy with self).
2.5 hour opening ceremony - free seats, friendly ushers (they watched our bikes for us), and some crazy Australian girls seating next to us screaming loudly every time an Australian name was announced. I hoped they would start tearing their cloth off, but somehow it didn't happen. The Prince of Monaco read some speech, then each of the twenty teams was called to stage and each person individually presented. Breaks for commercial were filled by some bad and loud singer. But of course, everyone was waiting for Lance. His team (Kazakhstan Astana - why Kazakhstan? because they actually can) was presented second to last. Once Lance got off stage the party went down the hill and we rode back home.
He said that he doesn't fill "amped" just yet that early in the morning. No deal, I said and Max quickly agreed to walking. After we got him his toy, we went to the beach. Ah, what did we know... While we were joyously bathing gaping at topless ladies on the beach, Leon's bike, double locked to the fence of our building got snatched. The thief left behind professionally cut lock cables so that we could have a proper closure and didn't think that somebody just mistaken our bike for theirs.
the shop thinking that our deposit (230E) is gone but they insisted that we go to the police station and file the report. 30 minutes it would take, they said. 30 minutes French ass. It took three hours before our number was called by which time I started to understand French laughing and rolling eyes in sync with other patiently waiting citizens of French republic. 20 more minutes of officer pecking on the keyboard and I was let
go with a stack of papers with numerous seals and signatures. Will see what it does to my deposit.
for the thing pictured here. Turns out it is a meringue (бизе) loaf with some cotton candy-like filling. Not really that good. Looks better on the picture then it tastes. Have no idea what it is called in French, but never mind anyway.
store was padlocked until 2. By now, hardened by long walks in Paris, the mere mile and a half under the blistering sun was nothing. After the lunch, determined to get the bike no matter what, I ran back to the shop. I was ready to pay the asking price and was happy that the asking price was quite low - 14E/day. In fact, renting the bike was the only relatively cheap thing during the trip, I think. Less than the price of a Chef Salad in your friendly bistro (tea is extra plus add like 20% in taxes). Of course it was not the bike Leon wanted - the road (racing) bikes were all rented out and all we could get is a heavy hybrid (did I mention we live on the 7th floor with such a tiny elevator it fits only a person and a baguette?). Dragging 50lb bike up the stairs brought back some well suppressed unhappy memories.
you had to do to make child smile is to promise him some "птичка" are so over. A new dirty trick that so far works without a hitch on our open-minded boy is to use a certain keyword that trips his circuits and makes him smile uncontrollably even in the middle of the most hopeless tantrum. This certain keyword is "penis". Works especially good when whispered by the older brother in combination with any adjective or superlative. Try it at home. It is fun.
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