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Desk work

Your grandfather spent a reasonably productive but not particularly stimulating day at his desk working on his computer.  Alas, sometimes I have to do what most normal people do.


Grandpa Jonathan
Prague, Czech Republic

Joseph Dunbar

Joseph Dunbar celebrated his 17th birthday last Thursday.  The following day he proudly started his new job at the River Pike coal mine, located 46 km east of the small town of Greymouth in the West Coast Region of New Zealand's South Island.

Shortly after excitedly entering the tunnel, a massive explosion ripped through the mine, trapping the teenager together with 28 workmates some two and a half kilometers from the entrance.  In spite of the ferocity of the explosion, but encouraged by the dramatic rescue of miners trapped in Chile just a couple of weeks ago, relatives remained hopeful that a similar miracle would happen this time in New Zealand.

But I awoke this morning to news that another massive explosion occured at the River Pike mine overnight.  Even had these miners survived last week's blast, experts were now sure that they would all now have perished.

Orphan is the word for someone who loses a parent, and widow for someone who loses their wife.  But there is no word in the English language to describe a parent who loses a child.  Today, the parents of Joseph Dunbar will be mourning the loss of their teenage son, as will the nearest and dearest of all of the other lost miners.  The pain of losing a child is absolutely unimaginable to me.

It is awful that anyone has to make a living by working in an underground pit.  And it is particularly shocking that young men like Joseph, not yet having become a legal adult, are sent down into the bowels of the earth. What is a civilised country like New Zealand doing sending people of such a tender age down into these ugly and dangerous pits?

As a parent, my thoughts today are with Dean and Philippa Dunbar.


Grandpa Jonathan
Prague, Czech Republic

Conflict in Korea

I could have woken this morning to better news that that of North Korea having unleashed a missile attack on it southern neighbour overnight.  The totalitarian power in paradoxically named Democratic People's Republic of Korea, has effectivley been at war with the truly democratic Republic of Korea since 1950.

The infamous Korean War actually began in 1950 and ended with an armistice two years later.  South Korea was supported by the United States, while its enemy was bolstered by China and the USSR.  It was a bloody conflict, with its pathos brilliantly depicted in the American television black comedy series, MASH. I really like this show, particulary becuase of the way it so cleverly highlights the awful futility of war.  Alas, the conflict continues this day, as exemplified by today's skirmish in Asia.

It's worth adding that North Korea is an isolated dicatorship, governeed with an iron fist.  It's people have no access to any independent information with their radios and televisions manufactured so they can only receive State channels.  Quite a contrast to South Korea, which is an open, free and bustling 'Western' society.  I last briefly visited the capital, Seoul, in 2007.

My dear Yael, you unfortanately live in another part of the world where conflict sadly endures.  The tensions in the Middle East are by no means unique.  In fact, at the time of writing this, there are more than 70 unresolved military conflicts in the world.

But it wasn't all gloom and doom today.  This afternoon came official word that the date of Williiam and Kate's wedding has been set for 29th April 2011, and the Royal wedding will herald a public holiday.  No soon as this news broke, it seemed that the media's attention shifted from the crisis on the Korean Peninsula to British nuptial fever.


Grandpa Jonathan
Prague, Czech Republic

Austerity

Austertiy seems to be the word of the moment with today's acceptance by the Irish government of a financial bail out package from the Eureopean Union and International Monetary Fund.  If it is to meet the lending requirements, Britain's closest neighbour is going to have to seriously tighten its belt and introduce massive austertiy measures.  Without the loan, the nation could go bankcrupt.

The British Conservative-Liberal coalition government has been rolling out a long and agonising series of so-called austerity measures over the past few weeks with a focus on reducing public services.  The Chancellor of the Exchequer, George Osborne has been justifying what amounts to a savage attack on welfare, health and education, by saying this is the only way to avoid the fate of Ireland.  Ironically, in spite of its apparent urgent need to reduce its deficit, Britain has pledged around seven billion euros towards the rescue fund, arguing that it is in the 'national interest' to save Ireland's economy given its impoortance as a significant trading partner.

Many governments are introducing austerity measures as they struggle to recover from the financial collapse of the past two years, triggered by the irresponsible lending practices of the banks.  As the general public begin to feel the pain of what will inevitably appear to be draconian cuts, they will increasingly wonder why banks profits are on the rise once again.  Inevitably it will be the financially needy who will suffer during this times, and not the well-paid banking executives who steered the capitalist world into this road wreck in the first place.

We've yet to see the details of the Irish government's austerity budget, but there can be little doubt that it will adversly impact on services to the most needy.  The more butcheryof public services that I am following in Britian, the more I beleive that this provides a perfect excuse for the Conservatives to do what they have historically done best, which is to reward the rich and punish the poor.  Or am I just a socialisit cynic?

I have long beleived that economics is similar to the weather.  In spite of an over-abundance of highly qualified economists, no one ever seems to predict the bad times.  In my adult life, I have witnessed no less of three cyles of boom and bust.  It seems to me that when the sun is shining the rich get richer, and when the cloud cover comes, the poor get poorer.


Grandpa Jonathan
Prague, Czech Republic

Condom breakthrough

Today's reports of remarks by Pope Benedict that the use of condoms might not always be wrong could herald a major breakthrough.

The Catholic church's public opposition to birth control has caused unbridled population growth in many of the poorest parts of the world where people can least afford large families.  And its condemnation of the use of condoms has helped to spread HIV and AIDS, particularly in Africa.

The Pope commands considerable power to influence people's behaviour and this apparent liberalisation in the Vatican's position on condums is long overdue.

His explanation is somewhat bizaare, as he suggests that the use of condoms might be justified on a case by case basis to prevent the spread of HIV/AIDS, enabling him to retain his opposition to artificial birth control.  But I see no reason to look this gift horse in the mouth.

I cetainly support the notion that religious leaders should serve as a positive influence on the way people behave in society, and I welcome many of their inspiring comments about the need to strive for peace in the world, respect for people of differant races, the elimination of poverty and the like.  But I do not beleive that the Pope or any other religious leader has any rightful place in people's bedrooms, particularly when this leads to the widespread practice of unsafe sex.


Grandpa Jonathan
Prague, Czech Republic

Dull day, bright night

As the days draw in, we have to accept the fact the number of daylight hours is diminishing.  And with cloud overhead, today has been particularly dull, in stark contrast to the evening, when the sky cleared to reveal a brillian full moon.  It's almost brigher at the time of writing this, than during the day. 

The full moon reminds me of the suggestion that my dietician gave me for having one 'detoxitation day' each month, when I only drink tea.  He told me that it would be most effective to do this when the moon is full because this is when the gravitational pull is greatest on the body.  It sounds a bit weird to me.  But maybe I will try it next month.  If your grandfather dissappears as a result, you may see him floating around the moon.


Grandpa Jonathan
Prague, Czech Republic

Video killed the radio star

I was very pleased to get confirmation today that the Huffington Post, a leading US online newspaper, wants me to submit a daily report from the upcoming United Nations intergovermental climate summit to be held next month in Cancun, Mexico.  You will be hearing much from me about this event in the coming weeks.  For now, it is interesting to note that the Huffington Post has caused some surprise, attracting more readers than many major newspapers.  It is massively growing in influence.

It occurs to me that you may find it hard to understand why this is so amazing to me, because it is possible that online publications will be the primary source of news and opinion by the time you get around to reading this.  I would really like to look into a crystal ball to find out what the future has in store for the newspaper that you can actually hold in your hands.

This reminds me of the song, Video Killed the Radio Star which celebrates the golden days of radio, describing a singer whose career is cut short by television.  Released in 1979 by a British pop group called The Buggles, who I'd never heard of before or since this one-hit wonder, this song symbolised the fascinating question about the impact of new technology on society.  Thankfully, television didn't kill the radio, which is as imporant to me as the air that I breath.

While I'm delighted to contribute to the Huffington Post, I do hope that growing interest in online media will not destroy the conventional news publishing industry.  Time will tell whether the Internet killed the newspaper.  Not such a catchy song title.


Grandpa Jonathan
Prague, Czech Republic

Growing old, uncomfortably

Your grandfather has just returned from a rock concert here in Prague performed by the 66 year-old legend, Joe Cocker.  His unique, gravelly voice is as powerful as ever, and inspite of his age, there were many young people in the audience.  It's his ballad, You are so beautiful, that always touches me the most.  It's a song that only he can really sing.

When I first went to rock concerts, the performers were young, long-haired, rebellious types, seeminly dedicated to taking as many drugs, having as much sex as possible, and to overthrowing the 'establishment'.  But today, these same stars, look like bank managers, with short hair, conservatively cut clothes.  Gone are the calls of revolution, the haze of dope smoke or the screaming loose women. 

While I enjoyed the concert for its music, I could not help but feeling dissapointed by the soberness of the occasion.  Rock and roll used to represent expressions of dissent from the younger generation.  Rock idols were generally against the status quo, apparently pushing for radical change in society.  It was all about peace and love, and anti-capitalism and equality.  Now it seems to be more about enhancing the bank balances of the stars.

The concert ended by 11.30pm, no doubt enabling Joe to go back to his hotel and get his beauty sleep.  What a change from those heady days in the seventies, the legendary Woodstock festival at which a much younger Cocker performed.  Rock and roll was going to change the world.   What happened?  Your grandfather must to confess not to be be growing old comfortably.

Grandpa Jonathan

Prague, Czech Republic

Euro's woes

Good news rarely stays at the top of the media agenda for long.  Waking up to this morning's news of Ireland's accelerating financial crisis after the joy of yesterday announcent of Royal nuptials, was a stark reminder of this.

Ireland is apparently on the verge of bankcrupcy, as was Greece until it was bailed out by the European Union.  And we are told that Portugal and Spain are also facing the prospect of financial collapse.  These four weak links in the Euro chain have been nicknamed the PIGS.  The big worry is that the PIGS could really mess with the stability of the Euro, and even jeopardise the currency's future.

Your grandfather was very excited by the introduction of the Euro at the start of 2002.  Less than 60 years after this continent was torn apart by terrible conflict, former enemies were now sharing the same banknotes.  I am a passonate supporter of the European Union.  It may have its imperfections, but it is a miracle of mankind for nations to collaborate so closely on important issues of common interest.  I am not discouraged by the seeminly endless political bickering between member states.  Jaw, jaw is far better than war, war -- to coin a phrase of Winston Churchill's.

But I am worried that the current financial problems facing four of the 16 countries using the Euro could fatally undermine the currency's future.  I was told the other day that the Germans never destroyed their old Marks, and that the banknotes are held in secure storage in case the government were to urgently decide to leave the Euro.  If Germany were to quit, this would surely result in the currency's demise.

As of now, Britain is still not in the Euro and continues to use the good old Pound.  I wonder whether this currency will still be around by the time you are old enough to read this blog.  It's my hope that our politicians will have the courage to stregnthen the Euro and ensure its future stability; and that Britain will show its confidence in the project by joining the Euro in the not-to-distant future.

But until the current financial hurricane passes, all we can expect is for the European Union, the International Monetary Fund and others to help to keep ailing Euro economies above water.  When the economy bucks up and the sun comes out again, let's hope that as optimism grows, so does peoples appetite for the Euro.

One financial postscript from yesterday's news of William and Kate's impending wedding, is that some economists are predicting that the event will bring in more than a billion dollars to the British economy.  At least we have a wedding to look forward to.


Grandpa Jonathan
Prague, Czech Rebublic

Soon to be Princess...and one day Queen

"Soon she will be Princess, and one day she will be Queen", were the first words I heard when turning on the radio just before lunchtime today.

These were the words of a BBC reporter, with news of the impending marriage of Prince William to his long-time girlfriend, Kate Middleton.  Like it or not, this is a truly historical moment, as we witness the continuity of almost a thousand years of history of British Royalty.

In this modern era, there is a tendency to be rather cynical about the British Royal Family.  It's fashionable to ask whether it has any relevance or it it's just an unecessary expense.  But it seems that all of this negative talk has got completely thrown out of the window, as the media shows scenes of unbridled joy in Britain today.  And fascination of Kate and William's engagement has rapidly spread throughout the world.  All of the major U.S. news networks opened their morning shows today with dramatic fanfares, and even the Czech media is devoting massive airtime to the story.

I am surprised about how emotional I am about this news.  I remember the wedding of William's parents 29 years ago.  Your grandmother Veronica and I watched the ceremony from the office window of our friend Robin Ellison, just a stone's throw from St. Paul's Cathedral.  Your grandfather was perched on a second floor window sill taking photographs with my two beloved Nikon cameras with long lenses attached.  I have some wonderful photographs which you must see of this great event.

The birth of Prince William is another day etched in my memory, with happy photos of his mother cradling him in her arms.  Of course, I recall the day that Prince William's died in a car accident in Paris just over ten years ago.  I was deeply touched by the scenes of the happy couple posing for photographs in St. James Palace this afternoon.  In fact there is no other family's life that I have followed more than British Royalty.  It may seem strange for you but this announcement feels very much a part of my life.

Love is beautiful, and the deep feelings that this couple, who have been going out together for nearly a decade, was very clear for everyone to see.  In spite of the declining popularity of marriage -- with a third less people in Britain tying the knot today compared to 30 years ago -- everyone adores a wonderful wedding.  These may be so-called times of austerity, but the wedding planned for next spring or summer is bound to be of fairy tale proportions.

Kate and William, both 28 years old, have been living together near his military base in Anglesy for the past six months.  I was therefore amused by his father's comment that "they have been practicing for long enough".  Another interesting sign of the times is that Kate is the first 'commoner' (non-aristocrat) to marry into the Royal family.  And with so many modern marriages sadly breaking down, it was wonderful to hear William say that he had chosen this women with whom to share the rest of his life.

Amusingly, given the rather dismal record of failed Royal marraiges, Prime Minister David Cameron's description of "unadulterated joy", raised a few eyebrows as he stood on the steps of Number 10 Downing Street today.

I beleive in the institution of marraige profoundly.  To live with someone in good times and bad, to support and cherish them whatever the pressures, is wonderful.  I can think of nothing more uplifting than growing old toegether with the person you adore more than anyone else in the world.  I hope that the love which radiates from this union will have a positive impact on us all.


Grandpa Jonathan
Prague, Czech Republic

Introspection

A good friend of mine made an observation about me today which has really made me think.  She suggested that I didn't look comfortable in my own skin, and that I wanted to jump out of my body.  The idea iniitially amused me, but then I realised that it has some truth.

Your grandfather has a tendency towards becoming easily irritated and bad tempered, mostly about things of little or no importance.  I have often wondered whether this is symptomatic of some inner feelings that I could adjust for the better.  To be quite honest, I do beleive that I am in an almost constant state of discontent.  Although I lead an interesting life, live in a lovely home, am fortunate to have terrific friends, have lovely children and an adorable grandchild, when I am being introspective, I do feel that I have yet to find my place in this world.

It's not in my nature to be negative, in fact I am mostly energetic, optimistic and enthusiastic.  But I have this nagging feeling that I haven't fully found myself, and in particular, I am without any clear direction as to where I am going in life.  It's not easy to explain, and I am not quite sure of the purpose of using my blog for this kind of introspection.  But one of its purposes if for you to gain some insights into what your grandfather is (or was) really like.

I've previously mentioned my concern about the absence of a life strategy.  I may be without one, but that does not mean that I am simply prepared to aimlessly live one day to another.  I am continuing to look for that all-important path.

Perhaps I've had too much time at home to idly think about such matters.  Maybe it's time to get back on the road in search of adventure, and forget about such inward thinking.  Or maybe it's high time for me to force myself into plotting out a plan for living.



Gramdpa Jonathan
Prague, Czech Republic

Glorious Dead

I never fail to be moved by scenes from London's Whitehall on Rememberence Sunday -- that closest to 11th November -- when the Queen and the Royal Family, together with dignatories from Britian and the Commonwealth, lay wreaths in memory of our war dead.  They are joined by thousands of ex-servicemen, many old and some with terrible injuries, who proudly march past the Cenotraph memorial to honour their fallen colleagues.  As I watch them file past on television, I look at their faces and wonder what incredible life stories these people have to tell.

The words "Glorious Dead" boldly engraved on the elegant marble war memorial, originally unveiled exactly 90 years ago, always attract my attention.  I wonder whether it is glorious to be dead.  As a young man, fired up with anti-war idealism, I used to deride this approach as a cynical means for the establishment to glorify war.  But I see it differantly now.  War is awful, and one of its consequences is death.  It is surely right to pay tribute to those who made that ultimate sacrifice on behalf of their country.

At the risk of becoming overly philosphical, I suppose that it makes sense to describe death as glorious.  After all, when we die, it's permenant.  Life is only a transient stage which always culminates in death.  Life wouldn't be of much value if we didn't hold death in the highest regard.

Today, I salute all those who have tragically and needlessly lost their lives in conflicts.  In spite of our intelligence and ability to achieve greatness, hostility and aggression remain as a significant feature of human nature.  We must understand the pain of war, and pass this on to future generations in the hope that disputes can be resolved peacefully.  If we were to learn the true lessons of war, and put down our weapons for ever, the death of those killed in warfare would indeed become glorious.


Grandpa Jonathan
Prague, Czech Republic

100 today ! ! !

Mazel tov, my dearest Yael.  You have reached your first century.  It is exactly 100 days ago that you came into this world.  In such a short time, you have filled so many people's hearts with such love and joy. 

If I ruled the world, I would change the system so that you have a birthday every one hundred days, and not every 365 days as it is at the moment.  It would be much simpler and more fun.  More than three times as many birthdays as we get right now.  So, if I were World Ruler, today would be your first birthday, dear Yael.  But as I am not you will have to wait another nine months.  Don't worry, time will fly, beleive me.

There's been some happy news from Burma today where the military junta has released the opposition leader Aung San Suu Kyi after seven years under hous arest.  Aung San Suu Kyi is a remarkable individual who has dedicated her life to peacefully confronting the dicatorship in her country and fighting for democracy.  She's an attractive and youthful woman in her early sixties who, if given real freedom, could emerge another inspiring international like South Africa's Nelson Mandela.  But we will have to see whether the Burmese authorities, who have kept this wonderfully elegant and composed woman imprisoned for 15 out of the past 21 years, will losen their grip on her movements. 

Grandpa Jonatha
Prague, Czech Republic

Skype baby

It was lovely to see you today on Skype, my darling Yael.  I took this picture of you while we were chatting.  You have changed so much and get more beautiful each time I see you.  I understand that you have more than doubled your weight since birth. 

As wonderful as it is to enjoy this 'cyber-contact', I can't wait to see you in person.  Your grandfather has a lot of secrets stories that he wants to whisper in your ear.


Grandpa Jonathan
Prague, Czech Republic

Armistice Day

Today is Armistice Day -- also known as Remembrance Day-- when we commemorate the armistice signed between the Allies of World War I and Germany at Compiègne, France, for the cessation of hostilities on the Western Front, which took effect at exactly 11am — the "eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month" of 1918.  While this was the official date to mark the end of the First World War, it has since become the day on which many allied nations rememeber all members of the armed forces who were killed during the Second World War and in all conflicts since.

I was often taken by my father as a child to the ceremony at the Cenotaph in London's Whitehall, which is the official memorial for the so-called Unknown Soldier.  My father was a Flight Leiutenant in the Royal Airforce during the Second World War.  Although he didn't see active service, he was a member of the Association of Jewish Ex-service Men, called AJEX, and marched past the Senataph the Sunday following 11th November each year for a special Jewish ceremony.

Today is a particularly significant anniversary, because it was 90 years ago, two years after the end of the First World War, that the white-marble Cenotaph was unveilled right in the middle of Whitehall, halfway between Trafalgar Square and the Houses of Parliament.

Millions of young men, on all sides, many as young as 15, died in these two terrible world wars.  Ironically, the first was dubbed 'the war to end all wars', only to be followed 22 years later by a war which culminated in the use of the nuclear bomb. 

In Britain, specially made poppy badges are sold to raise money for injuured soldiers and bereaved families.  People commonly wear these on their lapels during the week leading up to Armstice Day itself.

This is an important day, which has much meaning for me.  I was only born 12 years after the last person was gassed in the concentration camps.  We should never forget the soldiers you gave their lives to stop Nazi Germany from taking over the world.  It won't be long before no one is still alive who experienced either world wars.  But we should also never forget those soldiers on all sides of these and every conflict, who have lost their lives in war.

At 11am today, millions of us here in Europe stood for a two-minute silence to relfect on all those fallen soldiers.  I hope the practice endures long after all those involved has passed on.  We cannot ever afford to forget the horrors of war.

May you, my dear Yael, never know what war is, only having to enduring it in history lessons.

But on a lighter note, today is also St. Martin's day.  Don't ask me its historical significance.  But what I do know is that it is a night when people go out to goose feasts.  Your grandfather is just about to leave for one himself.  I love goose. Bon appetite!

Grandpa Jonathan
Prague, Czech Republic

From 'Cool Britania' to 'Broken Britain'

It was little more than a decade ago that Cool Britania was the phrase being used to describe Blair's Britain.  Now, the Cameron government has coined the term Broken Britain, which it pledges to 'repair'.  The nation's bi-polar psyche supports my view that public perceptions are like a carrousel, with rapid ups and downs and sharp twists and turns, driven by little more than headlines and soundbites.

The word with which I would associate Brtain today is protest. Only a few blogs ago, I predicted that we would see protests against the government's extravagant cuts in public expenditure.  I spoke to soon, because today we have seen the first signs of what I am convinced will become a truly hyperactive season in protest in Britain.

What have some of the country's most senior retired military leaders got in common with students?  The answer is that today they both voiced their concerns against government austerity measures.  This morning's Times published a damning letter by some of the most esteemed former military top brass, protesting against the Ministry of Defence announcement to get rid of the Navy's fleet of Harrier aircraft.  While this afternoon saw more than 50,000 students protest against a 300 percent rise in tuition fees.

Being an old leftie, I confess not to be too upset about any news to reduce military expenditure.  While I acknolwedge the need for Britain  to have some kind of defence capability, I hate to think how many more hospitals and schools could be spent with the money spent on bullets and bombs.  I was amused to read that one of the major concerns about eliminating the Harriers is that will make the Falkland Islands more vulnerable to attack from the Argentinians.  Apparently, the cancellation of these planes will mean that the navy will have no ability to fly from aircraft carriers for the next decade, thus providing an 'open invitation' to Argentine to invade their beloved Malvines, as they call these remote islands.

It's high time that the British and Argentine governments found a solution to this ridiculous situation.  There are only 3,000 people living on the islands, with a permenant force of more than 500 British troops, defending a place of no importance to Britain, on the other side of the world.  Surely we have gone way past the era where we would wage another war with Argentina, which is now an advanced democracy?

While I am not opposed to the defence cuts, I have much sympanthy with today's protesting students.  There was some violence as a consequence of some nasty anarchist thugs trying to hajack the demonstration, but the peaceful protestors definately have my support.  I am particularly pleased to see them target the Liberal-Democratic party who had made a clear election pledge to the British people that there would be no tuition fee increases.  As partners in the government coalition, the Liberals are effectivley facilitatiing this unpopular measure. 

If Britain is broken, it ain't gonna be fixed by discouraging young people from going into higher education.  Shame on the politiicans, and good luck to the student struggle.



Grandpa Jonathan
Prague, Czech Republic

Time heals

At best, I thought George W Bush was a fool, and at worst dangerous, when he was President of the United States.  But now, 22-months after he left the White House, he gave his first television interview today in which he came across as a friendly and honest man.  It seemed as though time had washed away my prejudices.

This is a strange but not new sensation.  I have found that many politicians look quite differant in the heat of office to when they have retired.  I didn't agree with Bush's politics, and I was unimpressed by his communications skills during his eight year presidency.  But with the benefit of hindsight, I cannot say that he looks evil or hateful in any way.

History has a way of balancing reality.  While I doubt that I will ever beleive that George W Bush's presidency was particularly impressive, I am sure that history is likely to be kinder to him than his critics would have thought at the time that he left the White House.

Bush's interview had a purpose.  He is publishing his memoirs, Decision Points.  While self-serving by definition, these books written by former politicians always make fascinating reading.  It is so interesting to understand what it's really like to hold a position like the President of the Untied States.  My father was a voracious reader of political autobiographies.  He passed along this interest to me.

The key philosophical question for me with all of these memoirs is just how credible are such accounts when written by the very people at the centre of history.  I suppose the answer is that there is no such thing as one truth.  We must listen and read broadly across all parts of the polical spectrum before coming to conclusions.


Grandpa Jonathan
Prague, Czech Republic

Getting colder, days shorter, leaves falling

It is well and truly Autumn in Prague.  After an extraordinarily warm period when temperatures actually touched 20 degrees celcius here last week, it is now cold, damp and generally miserable now that it gets dark by 5pm.  The ground is thick with fallen leaves.  I have changed to winter tyres on my car and we are generally bracing ourselves for the coming winter.  And winter is this part of the world often means temperatures will below freezing with heavy snow, although we have had relatively mild winters recently.  Let's see what winter will bring to Prague this year.


Grandpa Jonathan
Prague, Czech Republic

Where is home?

"I love the idea I've lived in the same place all my life", was a statement I heard on the radio this morning that absolutely screamed out at me.  It was said by Ian McMillan, a most interesting British poet, who was appearing this morning on that wonderful BBC Radio 4 programme, Desert Island Discs.

McMillan was born in the small Yorkshire village of Darfield, close to the town of Barnsley in 1956, making him one year older than me.  He is Poet In Residence at both the English National Opera and of his beloved Barnsley football club.

I was struck by his comment about his attachment to the place where he was born and the fact that he has lived there all of his life.  His experience dramatically differs from mine, having had homes in New York, Amsterdam, Brussels and Prague.  And having spent extended periods in Washington DC, New Delhi as well as other places.  In spite of my nomadic lifestyle, I find myself admiring people who remain attached to their hometowns.

Is is a failure or a strength to remain in the same home all one's life?  This is a question that I have often asked myself.  I must confess to really admire the likes of McMillan, who is so emotionally attached to his birthplace.  I have deeply fond memories of the home where I was brought up from birth until I was 19 years old, at 48 Pangbourne Drive, Stanmore in North London.  I also have a deep affection for London and Great Britain.  It's easy to find expats who speak badly of the place from where they come.  You will never hear a negative word from me.

I consider Prague to be my home.  I have lived here now for four years where I have a lovely flat surrounded by my treasured belongings.  In spite of not speaking the language, often struggling to really understand the Czech psyche, and always feeling distinctly British, this really is my home.  And yet there was something so warm and attractive in McMillan's commment on the radio this morning.  I wonder why.

Everyone needs somewhere they call home, but that doesn't mean you need to have been born there.  In Israel, where you live, many people come from somewhere else, including your parents.  And yet your parents, along with many others, passionately see Israel as their home.  I beleive that it's important to know where you come from and to have pride in it, while it is equally necessary to feel  content and happy in the place that you live. 

As for me, Prague is a beautiful city.  I came here with a wife with whom I had plannned to establish a family home filled with love and joy.  It is with very much regret that this didn't work out.  But I decided to stay, and have made friends here, enjoy the rich cultural life that this city has to offer, and generally feel comfortable.  And I am involved with the Jewish community. 

So I am not complaining.  But I must confess to harbour real envy for McMillan's love for living all of his 54 years on one place.


Grandpa Jonathan
Prague, Czech Republic

BBC journalists strike

It was disorientating to wake up this morning without my beloved BBC Radio 4 Today Programme.  Striking National Union of Journalists at the BBC were on the second of a two-day strike about a reduction in future pension benefits.  As a result, most BBC news programmes were either cancelled or abridged.  I don't think I have missed anything really signficant in the world today, but I miss that excellent BBC news output on which I so much depend.

Pension protests are all the rage right now.  French workers recently held a series of general strikes because of the government's decision to extend the statutory working age by two years, meaning that the pension age will shift from 60 to 62.  With governments working to reduce record-high deficits, I really don't think that these relatively small changes are unreasonable. 

But I am concerned about the massive cuts that Britain's Conservative-Liberal coalition are introducting in the name of economic recovery.  Poor people will suffer because of the problems created by rich bankers.  I fear that the 'deficit' argument is providing the Conservatives with a convenient excuse to reduce public services, with their Liberal allies awkwardly following like poodles.  Surely developed societies should be able to manage their economies without compromising the standards of such things as hospitals, disability support, schools and care for the elderly.

I would be surprised if we don't see people coming out onto the streets to protest when the cuts start to really bite.  Civil action can be a very effective way of getting government to re-think policy.  Margaret Thatcher's highly unpopular poll tax provoked massive rioting in the early eighties and led to her dropping it.  And there have been many strikes staged for most worthy reasons.  Indeed, modern workers should thank the militancy of their forbearers who fought hard for safe and fair working conditions that people enjoy today.

Your grandfather has decided to strike this weekend as well.  Not because of my pension or labour rights (which as self-employed is my responsiblity), but I'd like to try and have a proper weekend, putting work to one side.  In these digital times, when communications is all arount us, it is difficult to escape from work.  There was a time that it would be most unusual to have a business call during the weekend.  But today, emails, SMSs and even calls are common on Saturday or Sunday.  There has never been such overlap between work and leisure time.

I am not sure that I like the diminishing differentiation between work and play, especially as I am the type who finds it difficult not to think about work much of the time.  I wonder where this trend is heading.  Now there's a good reason for keeping Shabbat.  I vote for a weekly strike in sympathy with God.


Grandpa Jonathan
Prague, Czech Republic

"Vielen Dank", Regina Jonas

Rabbi Alina Treiger

Rabbi Alina Treiger starts work today after becoming Germany's first woman rabbi to be ordained since the holocaust.

In a moving ceremony at Berlin's liberal Pestalozzi synagogue, attended by the German President among many other dignatories, Ukraine-born Rabbi Alina paid tribute to the world's first woman rabbi, Regina Jonas, who received her semiikha (ordination) in Offenbach in 1935. 

Rabbi Regina Jonas

Sadly, it was on exactly this day in 1942 when the Gestapo arrested Rabbi Regina and had her deported to Theresienstadt where she stayed for two year, often lecturing to Jewish inmates, before being moved to Auschwitz in 1944 where she perished in a gas chamber just two month later.  Regina was only 42 years old.

"Vielen Dank, Regina", which means thank you in German, whispered Rabbi Alina twice during yesterday's emotionally charged service in Berlin.

I have discovered that a handwritten list of 24 of Rabbi Regina's lectures entitled "Lectures of the One and Only Woman Rabbi, Regina Jonas," still exists and can be found in the archives of Theresienstadt, which is only a 45-minute drive from Prague.  Five lectures are about the history of Jewish women, five deal with Talmudic topics, two deal with Biblical themes, three with pastoral issues, and nine offer general introductions to Jewish beliefs, ethics, and festivals.

It took until 1972 for another woman to become a rabbi, when Sally Priesand was ordained in the United States, and thankfully there are now many in the world of progressive Judaism.

"It is only important if a rabbi is good, not whether it is a man or a woman," said Rabbi Alina.

I beleive there can be no job in the world that should be excusive to either gender.  I was brought up in a traditional, United Synagogue community in North London where female rabbis were certainly non-existent.  I remember encountering my first woman rabbi in the United States.  It seemed strange at first, but after getting used to it, I found myself wondering why women are denied the opportunity to take up a career in the rabbinate, if they so choose.

As progressive Judaism grows, so will the number of female religious leaders.  There are many diffrerant kinds of Jew, and I fully respect people's rights to a broad range of opinion.  While there will not be women found in the pulpits of orthodox synagogues any time soon, I am sure that the increase in female reform and liberal rabbis is something to which we will become increasingly accustomed.

I do hope that the orthodox factions in Israel, which currently command undue influence on secular laws in your country, will remove their obstacles to the progressive movement's right to flourish.  At the time of writing this, reform and liberal communities have no formal status in Israel, and marraiges are not recognised by the State.

My wish would be for you to grow up in a pluralistic society, where Jews of all kinds, can live together in Israel, free to practice their religion however they want.  This includes a proliferation of wonderful women rabbis. 


Grandpa Jonathan
Prague, Czech Republic

"Is this the little girl I carried?"

Curiously, only 11 days after the passing of Joseph Stein, author of the wonderful musical Fidler on the Roof, its composer, Jerry Bock, died today at 81, just two days after receiving a lifetime achievement award from the U.S. Dramatists Guild.  He spoke at Stein's funeral on 24th October. He was 17 years his junior.

His score for Fidler on the Roof included some of the most memorable tunes, including the moving  song, Sunrise, Sunset.  You are fortunate not be to able to hear me singing this lovely melody, but the lyrics, written by Sheldon Harnick now take on a whole new meaning for me, now that you, my dearest Yael, are in the world:  This was sung led by Tevye at the wedding of his daughter:

(Tevye)

Is this the little girl I carried?

Is this the little boy at play?

(Golda)

I don't remember growing older

When did they?

(Tevye)

When did she get to be a beauty?

When did he get to be so tall?

(Golde)

Wasn't it yesterday

When they were small?

(Men)

Sunrise, sunset

Sunrise, sunset

Swiftly flow the days

Seedlings turn overnight to sunflowers

Blossoming even as we gaze

(Women)

Sunrise, sunset

Sunrise, sunset

Swiftly fly the years

One season following another

Laden with happiness and tears

(Tevye)

What words of wisdom can I give them?

How can I help to ease their way?

(Tevye)

Now they must learn from one another

Day by day

(Perchik)

They look so natural together

(Hodel)

Just like two newlyweds should be

(Pechik & Hodel)

Is there a canopy in store for me?

(All)

Sunrise, sunset

Sunrise, sunset

Swiftly fly the years

One season following another

Laden with happiness and tears

This song oozes with Jewish emotion and sends shivers down my spine every time I hear it.  Time will fly, and I hope to be around for your wedding, my dear Yael.  For sure, by then your parents will be asking the question, "Is this the little girl I carried?"  Maybe then you'll permit me to sing this song..


Grandpa Jonathan
Prague, Czech Republic

Obama takes a shellaking

This is one of the headlines I awoke to today.  I'd never heard of the curious word shellaking before, but I guessed that it wasn't good.  On looking it up, it's a stronger way of describing defeat.  With the Republicans conquering the House of Representavies, anjd the Democrats only just holding on to the Senate, President Barak Obama's former popularity bubble has been well and truly burst.

With the Republicans gaining 60 Representive seats, six in the Senate and six new Republican State Governors elected, the first black president to reside in the Whito House  is a mere shadow of his former political self this morning.  It is the single biggest defeat for the party of a U.S, sitting president for 70 years.  As anticipated as this may have been, seeing the results in the cold light of day is truly astounding and deeply shocking.

Only two year ago, we awoke to emotional scenes of Obama celebrating his historic election victory in front of tens of thousands of weeping people in hsi home-town of Chicago.  On that night, liberals such as me, were mesmerised by his achievement and moved in the knowledge that a highly intelligent, progressive politician was going to the White House.  After eight tired years of George W. Bush, not a man who I would describe as intelligent, Obama's victory seemed like a dream come true.  His slogan of Yes We Can, appeared to have come true.  Alas, it was an illusion.

Thankfully, the newly formed right wing force in the Republican Party, named the Tea Party, failed to make any significant inroads.  I hope that by the time you, my dear Yael, get around to reading this, the name of Sarah Palin will be nothing but a distant memory.  Because it is this brainless and yet dangerous woman who has become the arch symbol of this ridiculously right-wing political cult.  I can survive the Republicans, but the Tea Party makes me squirm.

If the battering of the Democratic party wasn't bad news enough, the Californian people voted against the legalisation of pot yesterday, much to the delight of the criminal fraternity.  Only some 45 percent of so of those who voted, supported repealing the law which prohibits canabis.  Supporters of the legislative change say they failed to get enough people in favour to actually get out and vote.  My guess is that they were too preoccupied, smoking dope.  But in realisty, I doubt that the average person who smokes the stuff could really care less which way the law swings.  Just because it's illegal doesn't make it difficult to obtain. 

So as the White House remains cannabis free, the Obama adminsrtration will be struggling to work out a new strategy in the light of this utterly differant political landscape today.

But I can promise you one thing.  When I next have to listen to the screaching voice of that Sarah Palin, your grandfather will be sure to be rolling a nice fat splif, whether legal or not



Grandpa Jonathan
Prague, Czech Republic

What a differance two years makes

U.S. President Barak Obama is facing a nail biting day as Amercians go to the polls to vote for the entire House of Representatives, one-third of the Senate and for some State Governors as well.  After his democratic party swept to power with him only two year ago, both he and his party's popularity has noze-dived.  Pollsters and forecasting that at least the lower chamber, the House of Representatives, will be won by the Repulicans, and possibly the Senate as well.  This would make it very tough for Obama get any of his legislation through over the next two years, weakening his powers considerably.

It's extraordinary to think that just 24 months ago this man was riding so high in the opinion polls.  When he won the presidency, there was sense that he could almost walk on water.  He entered the White House as a refreshing symbol of change, propelled by the slogan, Yes We Can!  His campaign raised huge expectation.  His problem is that they were unrealistic, and with the economy in the doldrums many people, including his supporters and unhappy.  It's hard for many people struggling to make ends meet to see what changes have been made.

They have lots of elections in the U.S. and I have been there for many voting days.  There's almost a festive mood on these occasions with last-minute campaigning and the airwaves crammed with a crazy amount of crazy political commericals, mostly attempting to demonise the opposition.  Alas, even in a land so enthusiastic about democracy, image and emotion tend to overshadow substantive debate.  Today, I will follow what's happening from Prague.  I fear that the political landscape will have signficantly changed by the time i next visit the US, probably later this month.

As I go to bed, I rememeber that voters in California are also being asked to decide on whether to legalise Cannabis.  When I wake up tomorrow morning, will San Francisco have dissapeared under a cloud of pot smoke?  At least Obama could console himself with a lovely big spliff, if his party does badly.


Grandpa Jonathan
Prague, Czech Republic

Japan and Russia at war?

It is often said that you learn something new every day.  How true.

News of Russian President Dmitry Medvedev's visit to an obscure island in the North Pacific attracting the wrath of Japan is a perfect example.  For this is one of the South Kuril islands which the Soviet Union siezed from the Japanese at the end of the Second World War.  Japan argues that these islands are a part of their soveriegn territory and diplomatic impasse has meant that the Soviet Union and Japan never signed a formal peace treaty.  Therefore, technically, the two countries (one now being Russia) are still at war.

Today, Medvedev visited Kunashir Island, near Japan's northernmost Hokkaido Island, sparking a diplomatic row with Tokyo, resulting in the withdrawal of the Japanese ambassador from Moscow.  The visit was the first trip by a head of state of Russia or the former Soviet Union to the South Kuril Islands.

Goodness knows how many similar disputes there are over obscure pieces of land all over the world.  It reminds me of the Falkland Islands in the South Pacific, which remain a part of Britain in spite of Argentina claiming ownership of them.  When Argentina, which was a dictatorship at the time, invaded the islands -- known by them as the Malvinas -- in 1982, the then Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher dispatched the British navy.  The ensuing war killed nearly 1,000 young soldiers.  For what?

It's highly unlikely that this dispute in the North Pacific, over islands which the Japanese call the Northern Territories will spark a military confrontation.  But then no one predicted that there would be such a needless war over the Falklands.

I know nothing about these disputed islands until today.  What a crazy world.


Grandpa Jonathan
Prague, Czech Republic

Halloween, Bohemian style

While many young people were preparing their Halloween costumes ready for a night of tricking and treating, I pretended to be a middle-aged man and went with Alice to visit her parents grave in the beautiful Bohemian village of Polen near the town of Klatovy.  This is about 90 minutes drive from Prague, past the famous city of Pilsen from where the wonderful pilsner beer originates.

These days, Halloween is nothing more than an opportunity to wear some scary fancy dress and to have fun.  I am told that Halloween had no significant during communism, which is evidence that this is nothing more than an opportunity for shops to sell related regalia and make some money.  But it is fun.

Actually Halloween has Christian origins as it falls on the eve of All Saints Day, which is a tradtional time to visit the graves of ones nearest and dearest. I was pleased to accompany Alice.  While I did not have the pleasure to know her mother, who died exactly two years ago, I did have the privilege to know her father, who was a larger than life character and was working on his tractor just hours before he died, a little over a year ago at the age of 85.


Grandpa Jonathan
Prague, Czech Republic

Clocks go back tonight

This is the time of year I always dread, when we put the clocks bakc by one hour.  This means that it get dark earlier and truly marks the start of autumn.  At least we get another hour in bed.  But now we must wait until the end of March, when you will be at the ripe old age fo eight months, before we put the clocks forward again.

It certainly didn't feel like winter today.  So good was the weather, that Alice. Aisha and I, had lunch outside, on the banks of the river Vltava overlooking the magnificent Charles Bridge. We went to the Čertovka restuarant which has a very quirky entrance with a stairway between two old building just wide enough for one person.  You virtually scrape your shoulders against the walls of the two buildings as you navigate your way down the steps.  There are traffic lights situated at the top and bottom so as to avoid an impasse with others coming up while you are going down to the restaurant.  Strange but absolutely true.

Some traditional jazz at the Rublika rounded off a very pleasant day.  Now to bed for that additional hour's sleep.


Grandpa Jonathan
Prague. Czech Republic

Rising temperatures in Nottingham

As this week draws to a close, I realise that I haven't achieved nearly as much as I had hoped.  I always have such ambitious plans when I am at home to do lots of productive work.  I really don't know what happens to the time, and there are also so many distractions.

This morning I visited my doctor to receive the long-awaited results from my colonoscopy.  I was happy to learn that none of the tissue as part of the polyps that were removed were found to be cancerous.  But I do have a number of polyps which were not removed.  Given my genetic history, with my father daying from colon cancer, albeit at the ripe age of 82, I was advised to have follow-up colonoscopies on a regular basis.  My doctor recommended that I had my next examination in a couple of years. 

But I spent much of today helping your aunt Rachel with an abstract she had to submit today on a dissertation she is writiing about energy efficiency in buildings.  Her thesis centers around the fact that buildings are the biggests single source of climate change impacting Greenhouse Gas emissions.  As a student of architecture, specialising in environmental build, much of the focus of her work is on designing more energy efficient buildings,  But intrestingly, her paper will concentrate on changing the behaviour of building occupants towards more energy-aware and efficient living. 

I have been talking to her at her university in Nottinham by Skype and exchanging drafts by email all day.  Her deadline for submiting the absract was 4.30pm UK time today.  As someone who often leaves things to the last minute, I really sympathise with my daughter.  Although, I can't help but think how much easier the work would have been, had she given herself more time.

Temperatures were certainly rising in Nottingham as Rachel struggled to meet her deadline.  The last I heard was that, with minutest to spare, Rachel rushed to the office whee the paper had to be submitted.  But she needed to get it printed.  As luck would have it, the printer wasn't working.  Alas, she missed her deadline.  However, she planned to email it to her supervisor who may put in a good word for her.  Student life can tough, yes.  But just wait until you have to survive in the real world

Anyway, how can the university staff not reallise how absolutely brilliant my daughter is?  Of course, I am completely objective.


Grandpa Jonathan
Prague, Czech Republic

Mlada Boleslav

It's a public holiday here today to commemorate the date when Czechoslovakia  was granted independence from tha Austro-Hungarian empire, marking the beginning of independent Czechoslovak state, after 300 years. 

I find it a little confusing as to why this country is still celebrating an anniversary of the creation of a state that actually no longer exsits. This federation of the Czech and Slovak republics lasted for 75 years until the two nations peacefully split in 1993. Today is officially known as Independence Day. Oh well, any excuse for having a day off, I suppose.

Today, I went with my companion, Alice, together with her one year-old granddaughter Elisa and my best friend, Aisha the boxer, to visit the cemetry of her granparents in the Bohemian town of Mlada Boleslav.  The last time I visited a cemetry with Aisha, which was where Alice's parents ashes were laid to rest, she produced two perfectly-formed peices of steaming pooh, right on top of the grave of someone who was too-long gone to know about it.  So this time, I held her on a tight leash, and I am pleased to report that there was no repeat performance.

Mlada Boleslav is the home to the famous Skoda car plant, which now belongs to Volkwagen.  During communism, the Skoda was a subject of many jokes as it was far from the best car in the world.  But it is now a fine brand, and the cars have earned an excellent reputation.  The production facility is enormous and dominates this 50,000 population town in the region of Bohemia, situated just 50 kilometers north-east of Prague.

I read afterwards that Mlada Boleslav had an important Jewish community which was at its height in 17th and 18th centuries when it was known as "Jerusalem on Jizera".  Of the 1,041 recorded Jews who were deported from this town to Theresienstadt in January 1943, only 40 were still alive in November 1944. After World War II a tiny congregation was reestablished, but like Jewish communities throughout this country, they are a mere shadow of their significant pasts.

We then went to have lunch in Průhonice which is on the outskirts of Prague.  Apart from Aisha vomiting under the table -- which was my fault for secretly feeding her something she shouldn't have been eating -- we had a lovely lunch.  We then went for a walk in the glorious Průhonice horticultural garden which looked magnficient with all of its breathtaking autumn colours gleaming in the brilliant sunshine.

It's sometimes so good to do ordinary things, enjoying the company of a friend, practicing being a grandparent with someone else's grandchild and walking with a crazily energetic dog.  I got covered in mud from playing with Aisha, who also decided to have a bath in the lake.  But what the heck.  It was a lovely day, a really lovely day.


Grandpa Jonathan
Prague, Czech Republic.

Achieving the impossible

When I am working in the comfort of my own study, like today, I find it all-too-easy to get distracted and find myself scouring the Internet.  It's strange how everything always seems more interesting than the work in front of me.

Today may be fairly uneventful, but exactly 16 years ago in the desert north of the Red sea, two former enemies signed an historic peace treaty which ended 46 years of animosity.  It was on this day, under the gaze of the then US president Bill Clinton that King Hussein and the Israeli prime minister, Yitzhak Rabin, offiicated at a historic ceremony at Arabah in front of a live audience of 5,000 and a global television audience of millions.  I distinctly remember watching it at Amsterdam's Schipol airport and was very moved to see only the second Arab nation after Egypt, make peace.

Mr Rabin, who was assasinated just a year later, led the Israeli army to the 1967 victory which cost Jordan the West Bank and East Jerusalem, spoke passionately of the peace of soldiers and the peace of friends. "The peace that was born today gives us all the hope that the children born today will never know war between us and their mothers will know no sorrow," he said.

King Hussein, who died in five years later, seemed the most emotionally affected at the brief but highly charged ceremony held in the Rift Valley, said the peace was supported by an overwhelming majority of his people.

Hence, once again the impossible was acheived,  This time, Israel made peace with Jordan.  And the impossible WILL happen again.  One day, long before you are old enough to appreciate my blogs, I hope that Israel will make peace with Syria and with the Palestinians, concluding the last chapters in the story of your nation's struggle for peace.


Grandpa Jonathan
Prague, Czech Republic

Goodbye Floss

It's a sad fact of life that nothing lasts for ever.  This includes the life of my sister Beverley's cute little Schnauzer who died today.

Floss was born in Hong Kong, where Beverley, your great aunt, her husband Russell and three of their four children, Ben, Sam, and Tom (Annie was not yet born) were living at the time.  She moved with them to various places before coming to London's St. Johns Wood.  She was 14 years old, so as we say in Britain, she had a good innings.

She was a perky little thing in her youth, but had lost both her sight and hearing in her latter years.  In spite of her old age, she was happy until the end.  Of course, Beverley and the family are sad and will miss her, but they are fortunate to have recently had Rosie -- the subject of an earlier blog -- who is a wonderflully lively King Charles Spaniel, to help fill the void.

We become very attached to our pets.  They represent wonderful and important parts of our lives.  Every dog I have known gives nothing but love and pleasure to their owners.  I adored our Cairn Terriers, Penny and Tuppy, from my childhood days in Stanmore.

Floss filled many people's hearts with love and joy.  She leaves nothing but fond memories.  May she rest in peace.


Grandpa Jonathan
Prague, Czech Republic

"It's no shame being poor"

I woke this morning to news that Joseph Stein, the award-winning author of the wonderful musical, Fiddler on the Roof and more than a dozen other Broadway shows, died in Manhattan at the age of 98.

Fiddler on the Roof, which was also made into a film, was based on Sholem Aleichem’s short stories about Tevye,  a Jewish milkman and his family who face terrifying change in a small Russian village in 1905, opened on Broadway in 1964. It starred the Israeli actor, Topol who played Tevye, became Broadway's longest running show, and has been performed throughout the world.

I remember taking your father, together with his step-brother Martin, to a revival of the show on Broadway in 2005. It was as enjoyable then as it was when I first saw it as a child.

This touching story provides a salutory reminder of our humble roots.  Most of us come from such working class, rural backgrounds in the back and beyond of Russia, Poland, Ukraine and elsewhere in Eastern Europe.  Our ancestors retained their identities as Jews becuase of their strong attachment to their tradtions as well as a deep faith.  Tevye, who was an orthodox Jew, had his values seriously challenged by his daughter who wanted to marry a man without getting her father's permission.

Throughout this exraordinary moving tale, we see some of the more old-fashioned Jewish customs being questioned by the younger generation.  While both father and daughter loved each other, they struggled to come to terms with their differant perspectives on the modern world.  There is a strong lesson in this for all of us.  While it is important for us to respect our parents views, we should never feel an obligation to follow them blindly.  The world would never have move forward if our way of looking at the world didn't evolve.

My dear Yael, as you grow up, you will develop your own opinions that won't always concur with those of your parents.  Your father and I have always had healthy debates and disagree on a range of issues.  Fundamentally, we share similar values.  I am deeply committed to my Jewish identity and am so happy that my children have carried this forward.   I don't always agree with their level of orthodoxy, and maybe you will have some problems with this as well.  But it is an honour and a priviledge to be Jewish, and my faith and identity are absolutely central to my life.

Like Tzeitel, Tevye's oldest daughter, who rejected the man who the matchmaker had in mind as her husband in favour of her childhood sweethood, you should make up your own mind.  Never ignore your parents advice, but in the end you must follow your heart. 

Between memorable songs like “Sunrise, Sunset” and “Tradition,” .Stein’s brilliant dialogue had its own kind of poetry, with Tevye having frequent discussions with God. It's packed with wonderful Jewish philosphy and humour.  Just before the show’s first big number, Tevye speaks to God: “I realize, of course, that it’s no shame to be poor.....but it’s no great honour either.”


Grandpa Jonathan
Prague, Czech Republic

Haircut in London

I've used the few hours I have had in London, connecting from New York to Prague, for going to have my haircut.  I have been going to the same barber for over 30 years, my good and loyal friend Anthony.  In that entire period, there are only two occasions when I have had my hair cut by someone else. 

Anthony has had the same barber shop in London's Crawford Street, close to Baker Street, for more than 35 years.  He's an excellent hair dresser and also a good listener.  So I always enjoy having my hair done and being able to talk to someone who, at least gives the appearance that he's interested in what I have to day.

I'm now back at Heathrow airport awaiting my final flight home to Prague, where I hope to stay for a good few days.


Grandpa Jonathan
London Heathrow Airport, UK

Desert Island Discs

As I sit in the American Airlines executive lounge at JFK airport waiting for my midnight flight to London, I am reflecting on a wonderful day in New York.  It's been in the early twenties all day under clear blue skies.  Absolutely perfect weather, although exceptionally warm for late October.

My day began lazily, lying in bed listening to BBC Radio 4 via the Internet on my laptop computer.  I especially enjoy listening to Desert Island Discs.  On this programme, which has been broadcast since 1942, well known figures are invited to imagine themselves cast away on a desert island, and to choose eight pieces of music, originally gramophone records, to take with them; discussion of their choices permits a review of their life.  It was created by a man called Roy Plomley who presented the programme until his death in 1985.  I can remember his very plummy voice extremely clearly.  The opening music, Sleepy Lagoon, is a tune I will alwasy associate with this wonderful programme.

This morning's programme featured Britain's deputy Prime Minister, Nick Clegg.  I commonly find politicians to be most interesting and attractive personalities when they are not on duty.  This was no exception for Mr Clegg came across as intelligent and urbane.  He spoke very affectionately about his Spanish wife and children.  He speaks five language and is clearly very well read.  I have found him quite iritating in the past, but on this ocassion I confess to having really liked him.

He chose three pieces of music that I particularly like, Schubert's Impromptu No.3 in G Flat Major played by Alfred Brendel, David Bowie's Life on Mars and the delightful singer from Cape Verde, Cesária Évora singing Petit Pays. I am pleased to say I have all three pieces of music, not in the form of gramaphone records, but as CDs.  However, I am still the proud owner of about 50 LPs (long playing) vinyl records from my teenage years.  I look forward to playing some of them with you.  I hope you will enjoy my taste in music.

Desert Island Disc guests are also allowed to select one luxury to take to the island, and Clegg surprisingly opted for cigarettes.  I admired his honesty, because it is socially risky to admit to being a smoker.  It certainly doesn't fit with his clean cut image.  Good for him for being so honest.

I spent the afternoon walking around Manhattan in the most beautiful weather.  I don't often enjoy my own company, but I am always happy to spend time in New York alone.  That's because you are never alone when wandering around Manhattan.  I can think of no better way to spend a lazy Sunday afternoon.

Now I can't wait to board my flight, which is delayed by half an hour.  I already had my dinner at my favourite New York diner, Stage Deli on Sixth Avenue.  It's impossible to avoid huge portions, so I am well and truly stuffed.  As soon as we take off, I shall recline my seat to the verticle position, put in my earplugs, put on my eye mask and go to sleep.  When I open my eyes, I should be in London.


Grandpa Jonathan
JFK Airport, New York, USA

Grand Central Station

I had brunch today with an environmentalist who I had arranged to meet under the clock in the main concourse at Grand Central Station.  This is one of my more favourite of public spaces in the world.  It has to be one of the most beautiful halls to be found anywhere.  Many famous movies have been filmed in the station including Alfred Hitchcock's North by Northwest with Hollywood heart throb, Cary Grant.

It's always a thrill for me to stand in that maginficent marbled hall below the impressive painted ceiling.  As I waited, I pretended to myself that I was Robert De Niro who appeared in the 1988 movie, Midnight Run, which included a dramatic scene shot at the station.

When you are old enough, you absolutely must go to Grand Central Station when you are in New York.  You definately won't be dissapointed.

Following an afternoon of shopping -- I buy most of my clothes in New York because I am a fairly average build here, while I often have problems finding my size in Europe -- I had dinner with my good friend Chris Deri and his family on the Upper East Side.

It was a lovely day in my beloved city of New York.


Grandpa Jonathan
New York, USA

My father's birthday

My father, your great grandfather, would have been 86 today, had he still been alive.  He was born in Hull, England on 22nd October 1923, which is a date that I will always remember.  I feel sad that he didn't live long enough to see his beautiful great granddaughter arrive in this world.  I know that he would have loved you very much, and you would have enjoyed his company.  But your father got to know him well and had many good times with him.  As you get older, I am sure he will tell you much about him.

I arrived this morning in New York, your father's birthplace, and am staying here over the weekend.  As I have already told you before, and I no doubt will again and again, I love New York.


Grandpa Jonathan
New York, USA

Penthouse

I awoke this morning to news of the death of Bob Guccione, the founder of Penthouse Magazine, which he started in 1969.  This is not a publication in which you, my dear Yael, are ever likely to have an interest.  But I am sure your father has glanced at a few copies of this men's magazine in his youth.

In the spirit of full disclosure, Guccione's passing attracted my attention because I had a fling with the editor of the UK edition of Penthouse some years ago.  She was an interesting woman who was born in Jamaica and was brought up in Britain.  Her name was Grace Hudson.  She moved to New York where I saw her from time to time.  But I lost touch with her many years ago.

Goodness knows what you will think of your Grandfather having read all of my disclosures. 


Grandpa Jonathan
Chicago, USA

It's a potty world

The Netherlands has long been known as a liberal society where tolerance is central to its culture. Amsterdam's famous 'coffee shops' where legally-licenced cannabis is freely sold is just one manifestation of this progressive nation. But if its new right wing government gets its way, access to the drug may be severely restricted if not stopped all together.

Meanwhile, Californians will go to the polls at the beginning of November to vote on whether to legalise the sale of pot in their state. And if opinion research is to believed, it looks like the majority support this proposal.

This could result in a bizarre reversal whereby the largest state in the USA, a nation that has a long history of intolerance toward to drugs, could be about to allow cannabis to be sold to anyone over the age of 21, while Holland, where weed has been legal for over 30 years may be banned.

Following this debate from Chicago is particularly significant because this is the city famed by Al Capone, the gangster who made millions of dollars by selling illegal, so-called bootleg alcohol. He profited from the introduction of a Federal law which banned its sale, transportation and manufacture. But it was thanks to the underworld that anyone could buy the stuff if they were prepared to flout the law. This ridiculous and almost-impossible-to-enforce measure wasn’t repealed until 1933, during which time society was horribly undermined by terrible violence, corruption and lethally-manufactured alcohol.

Prohibition of drugs clearly doesn’t work either. It’s a gift to the criminal world. Driving drugs underground has not succeeded in making them inaccessible. On the contrary, there is considerable evidence that young people can buy cannabis far more easily that alcohol, if they are underage. Legalising the sale of alcohol in America meant that it could be controlled. The sale of drugs in out of control wherever it’s banned.

While I certainly wouldn’t go out of my way to encourage people to smoke pot, I have long supported proposals to make it legally available. The dangers created by it being controlled by the criminal world far outweigh any possible health risks associated with the drug.

By the time you are old enough to make choices for yourself, I predict that cannabis will be openly on sale in shops in most of the world. I have no doubt that you will experiment with the stuff. That’s entirely normal. But I would urge you to do so in moderation, like with so many things in life, including alcohol.

Your grandfather makes no secret of the fact that he enjoys a joint or two. I’ve been smoking cannabis of many years, and I enjoy it. I treat it in the same way as alcohol. There is a right and wrong time and place for consuming it. We need to adopt an honest approach to cannabis. And always seek the truth from those older and supposedly wiser than you, my dear Yael.

But for now, if your grandfather begins making more visits to California, you’ll know why.


Grandpa Jonathan
Chicago, Illinois (where you can go to jail for a year if found in possession of two gramms of pot)

Uneventful

This has been one of those uneventful days.  Fortunately, they are rare.  I spent much of it preparing a presentation for a law firm that I will be meeting tomorrow.  Without doubt, dinner at a lovely French restaurant called Atwood's on State Street was the highlight.

It was one of those days that, as I return to my hotel room, I so much yearn to be at home.  Right now, I can think of nowhere that I'd rather be than in my own bed.


Grandpa Jonathan
Chicago, USA

Office routine

Having stayed overnight at New York's LaGuardia Airport, I took the 6am flight to Chicago, nicknamed 'Windy City', where I arrived at 7.30am in time for a full day's work at the communications firm with whom I collaborate, Reputation Partners. 

The views of Chicago from my plane window (taken on my Blackberry) sitting magestically on Lake Michegan were spectacular this morning.  The Sears Tower, one of the tallest buildings in the world, stands proudly in the middle of a cluster of impressive downtown skysrapers in the early morning sunshine.  It's in one of those offices that I was to spend my day.

I come here once a month and have my own office.  This is when I feel closer to behaving like a grown up.  I wear a jacket and tie, sit at my desk and attend meetings in the boardroom.  It has been a long time since I have gone to work in an office each day, and is rather differant from much of the rest of my working life.  I'm not at all sure that I could go back to this kind of daily routine for more than a few days.  But I enjoy being here, in the company of friendly and intelligent people.  And I always feel at home with Americans.

It's been a very long day, because I had to participate in a conference call with a client in Asia, which meant my getting up at 3.15am.  I only just had enough time then to take a shower and run for my plane.  So I will surely sleep well tonight.


Grandpa Jonathan
Chicago, USA

Four generations

While taking the first flight this morning from London to Prague, I realised just how much I was looking forward to seeing you; and I found you to be even more beautiful than I had even expected.  There is no prettier grandchild on earth.

I took you, together with your parents, aunt Rachel and your great-grandmother Avis to Solly's restaurant in Golders Green before the lovely tea party that your grandmother Veronica held in your honour at 20 Prospect Road in Childs Hill, where your father grew up.

Of course, everyone was so thrilled to see you, but no one more so that my mother, Avis.  She, too, agreed that you are so very special.  It was particularly moving for me to see her holding you in her arms.  We posed for a photo of four generations spanning nearly 80 years.on the doorstep, where I have many shots of your father and aunt which I always used to take on their birthdays
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I had to dash off for my flight to New York just before the end of the party.  But I don't suppose you even noticed.  I was told later that you were so tired that you found it difficult going to sleep.  No wonder after being the subject of so much attention.  You really are a star.


Grandpa Jonathan
Heathrow Airport, London

Traditional Czech duck

I was met at Prague airport by my companion, Alice, and her wonderful Boxer, Aisha, who is really my best friend in the world.  I'd had a couple of hours at Helsinki airport to have a shower, and having slept quite well on the long flight I had sufficient energy to suggest we went direclty to Kolkovna, which is another one of my favourite restaurants in Prague.  There I thoroughly enjoyed th traditional Czech dish of roast duck, dumplings, sauerkraut and red cabbage.

Restaurants in Prague are very welcoming of dogs, in fact arguably they serve pets better than humans.  Almost immediately a waiter will bring a bowl of water for your animal.  If you are lucky, they may then bring you some liquid refreshment as well.  I was pleased to enjoy a much-welcomed half litre of Pilsner-Urquell, which really is the most wonderful lager on the planet.  Aisha was very happy to eat the bones from my duck.  So there was happiness both above and below the restaurant table.

Now it's time to rest my weary head on my own pillow.  It's been a long time since I slept in my own bed.  Home sweet home.


Grandpa Jonathan
Prague, Czech Republic

Across the equator twice in a day

My hopes of taking my client's corporate jet directly from Pekanbaru to Singapore were dashed as a consequence of a schedule change.  This meant, instead of a 45 minute hop accross the Malaccan Straight in time to catch my lunchtime flight from Singapore, I now had to first take a 90-minute flight to Jakarta to catch a commerical flight to pretty much anywhere else outside of Indonesia. 

What was going to be an easy travel day turned into what seemed like an endless number of flights.  Travelling from Pekanbaru to Jakarta meant crossing the equator once, and then I took a flight up to Bangkok which required me to traverse the dividing line between north and south yet again.  It was from Bangkok that I will shortyly connect with my longhaul flight to Helsinki, and then on to Prague, where I will arrive tomorrow morning.

All in a day's work for your road warrior of a grandfather.


Grandpa Jonathan
Bangkok, Thailand

Resurrection

On that wonderful day when you, my darling Yael, emerged from your mother's womb, 33 men entered the bowels of the earth to begin their shift in a copper mine below the desolate Atacoma desert in Northern Chile.  And while we were all excitingly celebrating your joyous arrival, the earth groaned above their heads as the shaft connecting them with the outside world collapsed, trapping them below 7,000 meters of solid rock.

The San Jose gold and copper mine, beneath a desert mountain near the remote town of Copiapo was to become the location for the longest underground human imprisonment in history.

It wasn't for 17 days until one of of the probes drilled through the rock in what was thought to be a vain search for life, harvested a handwritten note attached to to its base, that the rescuers became aware that all 33 of these miners were actually alive.  An incredible plan was then hatched to rescue these men from what would otherwise become their tomb.  This involved drilling three vertical tunnels, only a fraction wider than a man's shoulders, down which a specially built steel capsule would be sunk.  One by one, the men would be released from their incarceration in this rocket-like saviour named Phoenix.

The race was on to see which one of the three shafts would be completed first, and would have sufficient integrity to facilitate the safe and unencumbered passage for Phoenix.  It has been predicted that the ambitious plan would take until Christmas, which meant sustaining these imprisoned miners, both physically and psychological, for as much as five months.  A shaft no wider than a grapefruit was bored to provide these men with their sole contact with the outside world.  Food, medicine, lighting and letters from their loved ones where pushed down this lifeline, as was communications equipment including phones and cameras.

While the rescuers began executing their rescue plan, the miners' families built a makeshift community on the surface in this desolate place which they called Camp Hope.  As the days and weeks progressed, they were joined by an army of what became many hundreds of journalists, photographers and cameramen, as this unleashed one of the biggest media stories of all time.  As your parents marvelled at how rapidly you were developing, and struggled to keep awake during some nights when you refused to sleep, the world watched and hoped for a successful end to this extraordinary subterranean ordeal.

Today, on the 69th day of your life on earth, and on the 69th day of their life below earth,  Florencio Avalos, the first of the 33 miners was lifted to the surface.  Live television brought seens of pure joy to the world, wives and children saw their loved ones being resurrected.  Chile's president, Sebastian Piñera and his wife, Cecilia Morel, were also there to welcome these men back to life.  "The mountain is giving birth to 33 men", said Ms Morel.  I have never witnessed such genuine happiness, as these men emerged from such hell into the arms of their nearest and dearest.  It showed just how valuable is human life, and just how precious is love.  Nothing, absolutely nothing, is more important.

Each and every one of these miners, whose ages spanned from 19 to 63 years old, is cherished, and all 33 of them serve as a reminder of the dangerous jobs that many poor people must endure to make ends meet.  Mining is an especially brutal occupation, with hundreds of workers losing their lives below ground every year, and thousands more being injured or contracting lung and other work-related diseases.  It has always been seen as an honourable and yet unenviable job.

As a child, I was taken to Leeds, from where my father was brought up, to visit my grandmother Rose and other family.  This town in Northern England, was a coal mining centre, and I distinctly remember seeing hunch-backed men with blackened faces, walking home from the mines.  My father would always say what a terrible job this was, and that we should never complain about our lives when comparing it to the lot of these poor people.

Mining is all but history is Britain today.  Margaret Thatcher pretty much ended coal mining in the early nineteen eighties.  But the drama in Chile serves as a reminder that mining continues in many parts of the world.  It is my hope that by the time you are old enough to read my blogs, that there will no longer be any need to send men down into the depths of the earth for gold, silver, copper, coal or anything else.


Grandpa Jonathan
Pekanbaru, Indonesia