Happy Friday

Albert and I mid epic nap...anyone need guilt free napping- feel free to borrow him. He is very encouraging.

In my defense however I had two workouts today, and neither was pleasant.

 Below the book all singles or math fans need.im going to a joint 50th 25th birthday bash tomorrow, and I will hand it out. All mysteries of love solved by age 25! Imagine!

Get it for a friend today.

Word from PEA is good- all happy getting free meal off of Lexi who is there for the weekend.

Her text:

"They are happy. Currently they are watching ghostbusters and eating cupcakes from sift (I brought them out for will.)"

The kids from San Francisco... 

PS in this blogs never ending quest to shine light on the good things in life- please be informed that Will Farrell opened a restaurant in New York called "stay classy New York" and yes I expect to see you there.

It's Hug a Smart Person Day!

Today a non traveling post- in fact the first ever Post/Toast.

Ok so here is a (Post) Toast to intelligence! One Amy R. of San Francisco, Ca (thank you Amy!) alerted me to an e newsletter called 'Brain Pickings',  and I am so grateful: grateful to have a smart friend like Amy R and grateful for smart e newsletters. 

It is a stream of consciousness from one woman, "an inquiry into how to live a good life" - focused on art, science, psychology, history, anthropology, and more. The book recommendations are high brow, but delicious. Now I want you all to check it out; sign up; and donate so we can all keep getting it.

Speaking of smart, our friend Robert is visiting from Germany; and he is one of the the smartest people I know- just wickedly so. He wrote this one software program that is used by General Motors to manage all (all) of their logistics. He wrote it (probably on a napkin while he was in line at a movie) after business school. There is an intermediary between him and GM, so perhaps GM does not know that their entire system depends on this one man. No large team, just this one ultra reliable man. And when I say reliable, I mean reliable. It is a religion to him. The only time I saw him mad...really scary mad; German nazi mad, was when someone didn't do what they said they would. 

It's probably why we are friends. I find reliability in a man refreshing. 

Did someone say Nazis?  Well Robert has a great story about them. His grandmother had an affair with a Jewish man and they had a baby. She was terrified this child would be sent away with a yellow star, because it was common knowledge who the father was. Luckily she was good friends with none other than Goering, and so she went to him and begged him to write something that would protect her child. So Goering wrote an official statement saying: 

THIS CHILD IS NOT JEWISH. DEFINITELY NOT JEWISH. NOT AT ALL. 

Sincerely, 

Hermann G.

And he was safe.

Thomas of course said Robert needs to drastically increase what he charges for this software and support, because he has GM by the balls  But Robert simply said: "But what would I do with the money?" What would I do with the money Thomas?

In business school he and I hung out a lot while I was mooning secretly over Thomas. He had this spider convertible and we would tool around discussing anything my pretty little head thought interesting....like me. And Thomas. And Thomas and me. It was the best. I would ask for German lessons, then coffee, then demand we drag race the car next to us, then ask for a ride to aerobics, then ask for another coffee, then ask him if he knew if Thomas had a girlfriend. 

Like that. But in all that time, I never learned one thing about his personal life. He could have been gay or straight or a spy or a poet or a phenomenal backgammon player or afraid of snakes. I wouldn't have known. He has no ego- not one single instinct to promote himself. Frankly,  it's bizarre. 

Anyway I sort of sat back last night and watched him do his thing- just watched some smoking quick synapses over a little pasta.  At one point I was popping those chocolate covered almonds in my mouth and yelling like at a baseball game: Hum Baby!!!!! something my father used to say when someone was on a roll. This confused him...but not for long. 

Because like I said, he is smart. 

Finally in case anyone is interested, below is the link to my trainer's blog where she describes what happened at the marathon. In case anyone asks, I'm not going to ever run 26.2. 

Don't ask. 

Boston Marathon

Balloons and Ethiopians

"If you are looking to renew your faith in human nature, go out and watch a marathon.."

Kathrin Switzer

"Marathoners are mad; so kiss one today. Madness might be contagious"

Ellie Wehlen

A quick word must be said about the Boston  marathon...My trainer (of Lech 1/2 fame) runs 50ks and 50 milers and 30 milers; and she wants very badly to run a sub 3 hour marathon here in Boston. Last year the conditions were terrible- freezing temperatures and head winds and no one got their best time. Anglela came in at 3:04. Due to these ridiculous security measures in place after the bombing, she then had to walk in the rain for almost 40 minutes til she could meet her mother. She was nearly hypothermic when she arrived at the car. So this year I said I would pay for a hotel room (there are many near or at the finish line), so she could triumphantly take a shower immediately after her sub three run. It was only four minutes and the conditions were so much better!

The sun was out, stars seemed aligned. Thomas and I go to mile 25; and wait. In the crowd I find myself next to a woman whose kid is a senior at PEA ( I heard her talking and said hey) and a man who said he was rooting for an Angela too! And lo and behold he was my trainers friend from high school. 

We watch the Ethiopians come in- beautiful gazelle like creatures who still look sort of tired, but achingly beautiful. They won every category of men and women. First second third; first second third. 

And then we see very fast non professionals come in; and some of them look fairly spry, but some look like they are returning from a prize fight. Thomas said "I have never seen so many people so tired." It was unreal. Some were hollow eyed and limping; some just walking. And these were the fast ones! 

Something went awry (I haven't found out yet) and Angela didn't make it. She was absolutely crushed by it- but 16 minutes too slow. I cried twice: once when a man came running by, pushing a paraplegic adult in a baby carriage.  

And he was about to clock at 3 hour marathon time. Then I cried when Angela stopped to hug her sister at mile 25.5. She was almost done, but she needed a hug to get over the finish line. 

Anyway- who knew a marathon would be so entertaining to watch? But go mile 25 of the next one you can, preferably Boston. Boston is the real life version of the last scene from The Grinch Who Stole Christmas...when the grinch performs an unspeakable act

thinking he will break the spirit of Christmas. But when morning comes the people are united, singing in harmony again.

There will never be a bomb that can stop this race.

....Ok back to New Hampshire...

So the Wehlies get a dose of PEA and they were delighted. They were amazed by 37 (who's counting) tennis courts and the cute town with tea; Amazed by a system that removes even the remotest possibility that one kid will be sleeping during class. Amazed by a classroom where it is the  teacher who says the least. Amazed that "little Chinese girls in pink tails" absolutely smoked the calculus problem- explained their rationale, then sat the hell down. The way they described it, it was as if the tiny things blew on their piece of chalk, then put it back in its holster. "No coquettishness!" 

I'm not kidding. Oh and the teacher was an African man. I'll leave it there- suffice it to say, they were astonished and delighted; and they are not easily astonished or delighted. 

The two Thomases and I strolled the town and campus and watched a rather sleepy tennis practice. There wasn't a feel of the WE ARE EX... Enthusiasm... Do these people not know the Andover match is coming up??!!

F met us outside his dorm and was frankly,  rather dashing in his wrinkled button down and retainer. What can I say? The competition is a guy who spends his Friday night speaking Latin with the Latin club. 

So we ascend four flights with two grandparents; one uncle; two parents; countless presents; and 75 cupcakes for the dorm. F ushered us in quickly- maybe I'm imaging it, but he might have been just a little embarrassed. We were like the clown act at the circus- piling into the VW; but in German. (What could be embarrassing  about that?!)

Here is the sweet part- he said that inexplicably, a few kids knew it was his birthday. Then the rest heard - and this is how a possie of high test scoring types can come in handy: they snuck into his room; stole some balloons he had there, blew them up, and wrote things on each balloon before putting them back inside. But what Frederick was most touched by was how there were "interesting"

things on each balloon: a limerick, a riddle, a quote...In other words, they were clever enough to commit the crime, and kind enough to make it into art. That's a pretty good combination if you ask me. 

So we had dinner and Fs phone was lighting up like crazy during (I guess the geniuses back at the dorm found the cupcakes) so he ran off to have dessert with them. He is at home here, that much is clear. Tucked in amongst 75 red velvet cupcakes, and limerick festooned balloons.  

Details soon..!

Getting in the plane in a few..

I'll fill you in from the air- but my friend in development went all out - golf cart tour of campus; tour of science building with a former biology teacher of Frederick's who praised him to high heaven. Of course the Wehlens do not believe compliments..and they have a dim view of biology in general (real men do physics) but I think they sort of glowed a tiny bit after... Then they got a meeting with the math teacher of a high level calculus class and sat in on his class.

They were blown away. Couldn't believe the level and the harkness style- just couldn't believe this existed. 

Chico had a good day I think ...more in a bit.

Xx

All springs reduce their currents to mine eyes,

That I, being governed by the watery moon, 

May send forth plenteous tears to drown the world.

Richard III

So we picked up young FCAW from a tennis match somewhere in the boondocks of New Hampshire. You will be relieved to know Exeter is now 4-0, and F won both his singles and doubles against the varsity of one Brewster Academy. That's the good news- the one, tiny mitigating detail is that Brewster academy is one third the size of PEA and looks like a cozy holiday motel by comparison. 

(I believe F might have actually been asleep at one point during the doubles match. )

It reminded me to alert you to the scary, if glossy PEA rally video 

"WE ARE 

EX

ET 

ER- a rather Nike meets the Klan vibe. Check it out on the Exonian online, if you need to get pumped for anything. (If I hadn't given up invading Poland jokes, I would have inserted one here.)

We had an absolutely hilarious evening listening to Tommy recount his discussion with Pop about leaving Exeter; and what T describes as my father's wish for a "three peat". ("Why can't you just do it like the rest of us and get expelled?") 

T said if my father hadn't let him come home, he had plans to smear himself in Vaseline and swing naked from the Academy bell tower on quaaloods. Just to make the point. 

At dinner Tom reminded us that my father had always slightly glossed over the exact episode that had gotten him expelled- like "fairy dust" over the story. As children we were lead to believe the expulsion was more of a "it's not you Charlie, it's us" kind of vibe. 

More a "Conscious uncoupling" than an expulsion. 

In other news, F was very amusing trying to explain about his dorm friends and their social skills. Keep in mind he really likes and respects them, it's just you cannot wink at them if you are trying to pull a fast one. You may hope they will get the message; but they won't. They will tell you loudly you should get that tic looked at. Once he tried to rally them to go to the edge of campus after dark and - I'm not making this up- before they agreed they looked to the Ebook that states the rules. And this is the rule book that recommends locking ones doors at all times. Lol!! Imagine- a whole new level of nerd.  

He has a lot of work, and at the moment some of it ( regrettably for him) is Shakespeare .

They are reading Richard the Third which he does not enjoy, but he said-as if he were talking about Federer's forehand:

"But man! could that guy write.." 

And that made me so happy: that he can see the dazzling gift of Shakespeare, even if his plays aren't really his thing.

As Thomas says- Goethe wrote Faust, but that's about it. 

(Wouldn't be a e blog without a Goethe joke..)

On the way back to Boston we had the most delicious NPR episode on the mathematics of love. I thought Thomas would levitate. It's math! Everything is just math! 

This woman mathematician figured out various algorithms regarding relationships- including divorce prediction. Turns out the happiest relationships are the ones where "couples allow each other to complain, and work together to constantly repair the tiny issues between them. In such a case, couples don't bottle up their feelings, and little things don't end up being blown out of proportion.  So the happiest couples are the ones with the lowest tolerance for pain, not the highest. And somehow she proved this with math.

She also shows how best to date on line, and how and when to choose a spouse. Not kidding. 

So here goes single ladies, write this down: 

You must disregard (as potential spouses) the first 37% of all people you date. Then you must marry the first person who comes along after that 37%; who is better than all the others before. It comes with some risks, yes.  You may discard The One. But you have your best shot if you wait a bit- but not too long.

She actually has a formula, and best of all, it works for choosing a port-o-potty too. If you should find yourself at a concert- reject the first 37% etc..

You could almost see Fs mind clicking: Ok.  First 37% out. Check. Then serious candidates considered in comparison to the rejected group. Check. 

I'm telling ya, he'll do it- this kid of mine. He will follow the mathematics of love, towards love. Because after 15 years on this planet-he sure knows a lot about both. 

"Doubt that the stars are fire, Doubt that the sun doth move his aides, Doubt truth to be a liar, But never doubt I love."

A Few Details...

Some not very good photos so far...I will write in the morning... Pinkie swear. 

Above, the living room at our Air B&B experiment... The two Ts in the famous "cage"; after 120 years it will be demolished this spring for a 34 million dollar number so the little darlings can play tennis indoors. 

Rainy Day Blues

Yesterday...

Albert and I have taken to bed in the middle of the day with the book "When Breath becomes Air"; the story of the neurosurgeon who discovers he has stage four lung cancer at the age of 36. His op ed after his diagnosis (New York times "How long have I got left? By Paul Kalanithi) lead to fans and followers and a book; the very book I am reading this rainy afternoon. 

It's moving and interesting. Also he is very cute and I developed a serious crush on him. He had everything a girl could want : raging, incurable brilliance (MD and Ph.D. In science AND a degree in English literature from Cambridge); moody brown eyes,  and a hopeless condition. Swoon. 

He dies before finishing it, but it's worth reading- especially a section where he artfuly explains why he walked back from atheism. (Yes yes before he got cancer..) 

Going to Boston on Thursday to meet the Wehlens and - drum roll: Thomas Adams Brigham in his triumphant return to the hallowed halls of "The Academy". (A place he left in 1981). Keep in mind the import of this- he was, after all the first Brigham since 1920 to leave of his own accord. 

Fertile Blogging is all I'm sayin.

Never Blog while Tipsy...

Ok got a few alarmed calls from you people today; but all is aok! Truly!! I believe my docotor was being the largest wet blanket with Cabo envy ever- much like the Wehlens' travel agent who used to sigh loudly every time they booked another trip. (It was like something out of Seinfeld- he used to tell them: "Well I can never go to these paces..!" Until they started sneaking around and booking half the trips with someone else so no one would know they goofed off that much.) 

Luckily ever since I got the good results I have been gorging myself on things that were probably served at Bernie Sanders' wedding. I even ate a vegan tuna sandwich today... Felt a little guilty, but what the hell.. It's been a hard week.

Am reading an account of the sinking of the Lusitania in 1915 by a German U boat. I keep turning to Thomas and saying:" I mean really...! " "How rude!!" 

It's so fun. I blame him for the whole thing. 

Apparently It was all a big misunderstanding- well at least the British didn't understand when the Germans took out a full page ad in New York, saying "if we see the Lusitania- passenger ship or no- we will sink it.."

The Brits just figured no one could be that silly. 

I mean really.

 See? I'm fine! I am back to making fun of Germans already .... Xx

I might be in Mexico tomorrow...

Today has had its highs and lows; but here is the good news: My overly attentive doctor basically accused me of having colon cancer with no evidence other than being very anemic. Long story short, she said she was quite worried and slightly ruined our trip last week. Then I get five days of goose stuffing level protein from Von Wehlenhof and now I am back in a quasi normal range. But it was an unpleasant few days until the tests came back. Adding to the drama was this horrible very bad no good dream I had of the utmost perfidy; the most unbelievable Lucy and the football type betrayal I have ever experienced...a dream so bad and so real, it can ruin your dinner. Even when that dinner is pizzetta 211. So I turn to my husband and I say: "I miss Mexico"; and he says "I do too".
But he is so happy about the protein/no colon cancer that he says-the single loveliest thing any man has ever said to me:
We can go tonight.
?
Slightly drunk, slightly bruised from blood tests and bad dreams, sad about many sad things...
he says let's go tonight. Let the salve of a Mexican night enter your skin....and sing you to sleep.

Unfortunately we have a dog...and there is no flight tonight. (where jet where..)
But the dust of Mexico is calling, and I might answer.
call you later.
xxxx