Jen and Bill once lived in England: April 2016

Sunday, April 10, 2016

This is not Photoshoped

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Looks who's back in England!  She only had one hour of broken sleep on her Virgin Atlantic flight, but still looks fabulous.  She even had the stamina to catch the first Downton Abbey, play Scrabble and catch Sunday Roast at The Two Brewers.  </div>
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Alas, she has just hit the wall.  While I watched the end of Ronin (a surprisingly decent late-career Robert Deniro flick), Jennie crashed after reading half a page of her book.</div>
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Tomorrow I'll work and then we have the rest of the week to see more of England.</div>
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Finally it feels like our little adventure is really on track.</div>
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The Odd Couple

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My visa arrived today which means that it's only a matter of time before I'm out of Atwood and onto Brocas Terrace.  And Bret will get the house to himself.</div>
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It's interesting that at 46 I'm the Felix Unger of this couple when in my early years I was absolutely an Oscar Madison.  (Remember that fish tank full of dead fish, Mummy?) But rather than dwell on the condition on Atwood, I'll focus on the movie reference.</div>
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Sunday night Bret and I watched Barefoot in the Park - a favorite! - which made me think about Neil Simon's limited repertoire.  All of his movies are centered around two people or sets of couple who are opposites who attract despite their differences.  He really never deviated from this formula from The Odd Couple to Biloxi Blues to Murder By Death.  I guess if it ain't broke, why fix it? </div>
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 Classics from Barefoot:</div>
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"He moved out - didn't you notice his suit case, mother?"</div>
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"He's always so formal - I thought it was the garbage."</div>
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"It wasn't until we were married that I realized you didn't sleep wearing a tie!"</div>
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"Only for very formal sleeps."</div>
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Pure gold.</div>
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When I was a kid I watched old movies all weekend on channel 56 and 38, rain or shine. I watched Arsenic and Old Lace, Philadelphia Story, The Incredible Mr Limpet....I loved them all.  Later, with cable and dvds, there was never a reason for Bret and Joey to watch old movies - new movies were always at their finger tips.  I'm so glad that wasn't me, that my options were limited to whatever slapstick comedy or film noir was on one of two channels for the day.  Sure I watched a lot of crap.  But those all day movie marathons gave me a film education and a fantastic range of movie knowledge that I wouldn't trade for anything.  </div>
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I'm happy to say that Bret sat through the entire showing of Barefoot in the Park with several audible laughs.  Before I go I need to get him in front of His Girl Friday, To Kill a Mockingbird and Casablanca.</div>
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This also just triggered a memory of Andy telling me that he was in the opening credits of the Odd Couple...I think Andy's rather creative fibs are a post for another day...</div>
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Curbside drive

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We got Doug behind the wheel of the Mini this afternoon.  (I had two pints at lunch so I told Doug he had to take the helm)</div>
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Despite Marge's jovial demeanor in the back seat she nervously coached Doug as he bounced off a few curbs.  I remember Jen saying the same thing to me 12 years ago when I first drove on our honeymoon.  Your instinct is to ease away from oncoming traffic when you sit on that side of the car.  Hence, you ride along the curbside.  I had two ales in me so I wasn't so nervous.  Doug got used to it by the end of our journey.  </div>
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Here is where we went for Sunday roast.</div>
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<a href="http://www.thebelvederearms.co.uk/" target="_blank">Belvedere Arms</a></div>
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Back home we relaxed in the garden.  (I learned "garden" is the proper term for the back yard.  "Yard" to the Brits means a car size slab of hot top)</div>
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I'm off to work tomorrow.  Marge and Doug will pack a bit for their trip, shop around Eton and then we'll go out for our last meal together.</div>
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They will come back when they swing back on the back end of their three month tour of Europe.</div>
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Jen will be back this time.</div>
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Two Bagger

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Marge, Doug and I walked around Windsor today.  We saw the place Marge worked and the place where they lived.  They lived in the rough part of Windsor, not the Eden that is Eton.  (Actually the place was beautiful but I'm competitive)</div>
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We strolled along the Long Walk and found the place lousy with gorgeous vintage cards.  Bentleys, Lamborghinis, Ferraris, Jags ... but no Mini Coopers.  A glaring miss.</div>
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 Doug and Marge bought me an ice cream.  </div>
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I love a vanilla soft serve.</div>
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 Marge was determined to score a Waitrose-save-the-environment bag.  The very helpful British staff went to the basement to get her two of them.  I never knew a supermarket to have a basement.</div>
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Our First Guest

It's ironic that the first guest we have at our UK home is Jen's Aunt and Uncle who also did an assignment in the UK ... and lived about a mile from where we are living. Isn't life funny that way. It's also ironic (I don't think Alanis Morrisette and I are using the word ironic correctly) that Jen isn't here.

I'm trying to think "what would Jen want me to do to entertain Marge and Doug". I wasn't sure so I bought a hookah. Maybe it is because of the long trip from Colorado but they were not up for my plans to sit outside listening to Arlo Guthrie songs smoking bacon flavored Sheesha.

We ended up going to the pub for dinner. Doug told a story about the time when a waitress asked Doug if Mother Entwistle, Doug's sister, was his mother. Doug was almost as giddy telling this story as he was talking about the VISA exchange rates between the U.S. and U.K. It made me realize the no matter how old you get, it's just fun to make fun of your sibling.

Don't worry Mother, I stuck up for you.

It is great having them here. I think they are getting a kick out of reliving their days in Windsor.

(It's 9:00pm... the fox guy should be coming out to feed the foxes soon....)

El Domingo Asado

I had a nice Sunday Roast at The Bel and Dragon. Best part was talking to Jennie for much of the time. I find when I don't keep myself busy seeing London that I am most lost. It will be good having Marge and Doug her next weekend. My first, of hopefully many, visitors.

Since I'm on the topic, look at my sad little set up in the back yard. The drizzle screwed up my painting session. So I got my umbrella and a Bath Ale to watch Y Mama Tu Tambien (recommend it) on my iPad. I lit a candle to create ambiance (a total Jen move)

Another Day in London

I went into London again today. Jen knows I am not a fan of the mess that is the Saturday Market at Portabello Street. So I took the hint from the book we have highlighting lesser traveled London and went to the back of the market on Goldbourne Road. I enjoyed that part of the market much better.

Below are a couple picture from this funky place that sold little skull heads and dead bugs.

All I will say is that I made a purchase.

And I wondered into a cool shop run by a former member of the band "Flesh for Lulu". He was a great guy.

See if you can spot him in this video.

Flesh for Lulu - I Go Crazy

Ended the day trying out the fourth in my cigar bar series, Dukes Hotel Cigar Bar. I'm giving it a mediocre rating. Hotel is beautiful, but the cigar bar ambiance was like the sun room in your Great Aunt's house.

Update on my stolen hat. Anthony tells me that it's a very British thing to steal a hat like that... somehow petty theft doesn't seems as bad when it's done by the Brits.

Hell to the YES!

I had one of those spontaneous nights that pop up rarely. And the way I felt this morning it is a good thing they are rare. I drunk dialed Jennie last night to the point where she sent me an email this morning asking if I were alive.

From these photos it looks like I was at a gay club. My hat was a big hit, as you can see. My hat was the town whore. Everyone had her for a ride. It was so popular that I never got it back.

Here are the two dudes responsible for my night. After work I rushed to he golf course to get in 9 holes. I ran into the clubhouse to pay and this old guy, a member, yelled at me that I could't be in there with my golf shoes. I was pissed but quickly turned around to go change my shoes so i could pay. Anthony the bartender, the guy on the left, came out behind me and said he take my money so I would't have to waste time changing my shoes. Nice guy.

After my round he asked if I wanted a pint. I wasn't planning on it, but since I'm on this adventure I'm trying to say "hell, yes" o life. A little while later his buddy Michael, in the middle of this picture came by to hang with Anthony. Four beers later they said "you're going out with us". We piled in my Mini and we walked over to the nightclub to hear some music. It was really fun, although I never should have had those four Jagermeister shots. A little while later was the drunken call to Jennie.

A couple more items from the night:

* Michael and Anthony look older but are both 24. Almost Bret's age

* Michael is a champion level hammer thrower. He couldn't watch the Olympic event because he just missed making the club (an injury slowed him down). He said he beat 9 of the 12 guys in the Olympics. He's another nice kid. Although he's the kind of dude who, as he says, "likes a scrap". I could see it.

I just read Jennie's post. I totally forgot about the cigarette. And I woke up this morning at 9:00am wondering when I got that glass of water.

It's 1:30 AM in Eton. Do you know where my husband is?

Apologies for no picture today but I was living the life of a responsible working woman. I went to the office, came home and ate dinner in the privacy of my own home. It's a weeknight, nothing special was happening and I have to work in the morning.

Meanwhile, across the pond....my husband is whooping it up like a dandy in aspic!! (I still don't actually know what that means but I think it sounds appropriate here) He just called from a club where he is out with two 24 year olds that he met on the golf course. Supposedly one of them "almost made the Olympics as a hammer thrower." Yeah, right - anyone could almost make the Olympics. I think I almost made the para-olymics. And hammer throwing??

He had 4 shots of Jaegermeister and a dozen beers. When I talked to him earlier he accepted a cigarette from someone.

I told him to make sure he has his wallet, keys, phone and pants and get his 50 year old ass home. He is going to be in pain tomorrow.

OMG - he's calling me again. It's 2 AM there.

He is telling me right now that he is walking like he has one leg. I don't even know what that means.

I had to talk him through the process of getting in the house, drinking water and setting his alarm to get up in 4 hours. I am SO glad I will not be him tomorrow morning.

These things didn't happen when Bill was hanging out with his good friend Fletch (that I know of). Where is that work permit?? Bill can't be left alone much longer.

Will take a break from Bob Marley for a while

Meanwhile, back in London.....

Today was the Notting Hill Carnival (adult day ... yesterday was kid day).

Half a million people crammed into several blocks that were cordoned off for the party.

It celebrates Caribbean history, as far as I could figure out. Half of the day was pure fun spectacle. Seeing old women in bikinis was smile inducing. If you were a block away the music put a smile on your face.

If you walked directly past the music or it rode past you it made you recall the scene in Mr. Holland's Opus when his son loses his hearing from being too close to the horn section at a parade.

Then when the half million people got cramped into some tight spaces, claustrophobia doesn't begin to describe it. I shuffled along for 20 minutes in one spot to get to an opening two building lengths away. You could see how the stampede at the Who concert began.

I hung around our place this morning for an hour debating on going. The pros were that it was something I normally would never do and the party looked amazing. The cons were exactly what I thought. People - Noise. And the fact that two people were stabbed and 96 arrested yesterday ... on kid day ... should have tipped the scales.

All in all, I think I'm glad I went....

Note: more than 7000 police officers were on duty for the event. Two thoughts; there must be many a bad guy who has planned a caper on the other side of London on Notting Hill Carnival, and second, you could have sent 5000 of those police home if you just hired one Mike Fletcher to control things.

better pictures than mine on this link:

http://www.thesun.co.uk/sol/homepage/news/4507189/Notting-Hill-Carnival-Crowds-enjoy-rainy-but-relatively-quiet-festival.html

Third tree on the right: The loneliest tree on the Long Walk

Sunday roast at The Three Tuns on a gorgeous day in Windsor.

I think I've gained fifteen pounds in the few months I've been here.

My lunch mate today was Risaku. She's a student from Japan here on a three week exchange.

She plopped herself at my table half way through my meal. I admire someone who has the confidence to chat up a stranger while in a strange country.

You can't see all her meal but she ordered a veggie plate. As is the way in England her veggie plate was loaded with carbs and fried ... well, fried everything.

After lunch I read next to the third tree on the right. It wasn't the same tree without Jennie.

Camden market and Boston girls

Today's London journey brought me to Camden Market.

Before i got there I saw this couple on the train. They are wearing matching bracelets and watches, apparently demonstrating their love of Comicon, or something ilke that. Ah, nothing like Nerds in love.

Also on the way to Camden Market I met Marmaduke here... He intimidated me while I was buying a tea.

Inside Camden Market was a circus. Many of the shops catered to the twenty something fringe. There was something for the young goths, the young punks, the young rock-a-billys and the young fantasy game players. I managed to find something for myself in a shop called "A Dandy in Aspic". Mother Entwistle could probably help me out with what that means.

I tried to capture the fact that it was pouring buckets all day. My little flowery Jack Wills umbrella worked overtime.

I was a little weary and wet so found a covered spot outside to have a delicious Belgian pint and a cigar. (Getting more monotonous than the Sink-Series, I imagine)

Meanwhile, back in the states, Laura, Christin and I went into Boston for dinner and a movie (Celeste and Jesse Forever). Everyone was so in love with their meal we had to pose with them

When we got to the theater I was reminded what TRUE LOVE is....there was a poster for a release of Raiders of the Lost Ark - coming soon to a theater near me!!!! It's not surprising that they would rerelease the best movie ever made - what is more surprising is that it hasn't been playing in movie theaters every day since 1981. It's only a matter of time before I'm in a dark theater for the 24th time saying the lines along with Indy and Marion (yes, this is how I learned to speak Nepalese)

"...I was a child, I was in love - it was wrong and you knew it!"

"You knew what you were doing"

"Now I do. This is my place. Get out....Mohan, tayme garu!! Boulianoo!!"

Still passing time until Jennie returns

More from my inauguration to Chelsea Football. The stadium holds 45,000 singing Brits. BUT, they don't serve beer during the game! Only time you can have a beer is before the match and at half time. Obviously the boys have a history of acting up after they get pissed, so they are being punished.

At my favorite cigar bar with my mate, Tim.

Wait, here I am the today at another cigar bar. I needed it after the brutal experience I had at the U.S. embassy trying to sign paperwork for a refinance.

I think the Mayfair cigar bar is better than other favorite. I've hit three so far. Jen is on a mission to see all the best book stores, I am on a mission to hit all the best cigar bars in London.

Tim invited me to a posh equestrian event Sunday. Horses....why did it have to be horses?

But he hobnobs with royalty (his friend is a Duke and the queen's granddaughter will be riding), so it will be worth it

Arsenal vs Chelsea

Bill is officially British - he attended the opening match between Arsenal and Chelsea thanks to a connection at work with Chelsea season tickets. I got this picture as I drove home from work. I don't know little Miss Thumbs Up behind them. Bill doesn't look like he is missing me tonight but I'm sure he is...deep inside.

Meanwhile I was finger printed today - the last step needed for my Visa. So my application was officially sent off to New York for processing this afternoon. Now my future is in the hands of fate and the British Consulate General.

An Eton haircut

This update will only interest my wife (and maybe my Mother-in-law...she's seems fascinated by the mundane pictures of our house).

The Eton landscape team was busy at work chopping down our beautiful fields. Instead of the gorgeous wispy sea grass we now have hacked up wheat. It's like when Britney spears cut her own hair.

And Jennie has been asking for photos of our new rocks. I kept telling her that it's not much to see but she wanted to see the difference between the black plastic sheet and the off-white rocks. (If this qualifies as a good post, how the hell is the sink series not better received?!)

A beautiful sunset ruined by the Britney-chopped grass.

My morning ride in a Lotus

After a lovely dog walk through the backyard of Eton University, Louise and I drove the Morgan to her brother Paul's house in Bracknell. I rode with Paul through the formerly quiet roads of England's countryside. I say formerly because this car tore it up. There was one stretch where Paul stopped conversation so as to fully concentrate on the winding road. It was amazing to take corners at speeds I have yet to hit, nor will ever hit, with my Mini.

We stopped at a great pub, whereabouts unknown, to knock back a pint. On the ride back Paul asked if I'd like to drive his car and I embarrassed myself with how quickly I said "Hell, no". I would break the car by driving in second gear at speeds the car would yawn and doze off at.

Paul, like his sister, is wonderful. He's an HR guy, too.

And he gave me these eggs from his chickens.

Shoreditch, Portrait Gallery and the Ritz

Today's adventures in the UK brought me to Shoreditch. I am scouting places in London for Jennie and I, weeding out the places she probably won't take to.

Shoreditch is being put low on the list for her to visit. It's totally hit or miss. It's a ragged part of the city, but if you cherry-pick you can find some gems.

My first stop was lunch at Lounge Lovers. It's an ultra-hip spot that teeters on trying too hard. I enjoyed the hippo on the wall and my waitress with the sleeve tattoo who was wearing only a see through silk shirt and heels.

I walked a bit and found this Museum of Homes or something like that. I thought Jen would like the tea pot and cup sculpture on the front lawn.

I eventually made my way out of Shoreditch and went to more familiar territory. I stopped at Covent Gardens and went into my favorite art museum of all time, The National Portrait Gallery. Any time I'm near there I pop in and see something new or something I don't tire of.

This is a pencil sketch of J.K. Rawlings I thought was cool. The entire sketch pad was framed.

My iPhone pointed out a cigar bar I have not hit yet. With opportunity knocking I went into the Ritz. They immediately slowed me down and had to find a supervisor to approve my Red Sox hat and Chuck Taylor sneakers as appropriate Ritz attire. Since the cigar area was at the far end and basement of the hotel I was whisked quickly past the pretty people and down to my dungeon nirvana.

A score in Shoreditch. Queen's head on cufflinks. Subtle enough to make it past my new dress code, but funky enough to make me smile.

Chicken and Potatoes

Above you see one of the million reasons why I miss Jennie. I was on the phone for work when I doodled the eyes you see above. I whispered that they were actually boobs so Jennie-The-One-Upper drew balls and a penis.

This post is in honor of Didi. I got a funny little card in the mail today from her. It was something most people wouldn't show their mother (unless your mother is Susan or Trudie).

It was a nice surprise.