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
Saturday, 30 October 2010
Friday, 29 October 2010
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
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
Thursday, 28 October 2010
Mlada Boleslav
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.
Wednesday, 27 October 2010
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
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
Tuesday, 26 October 2010
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
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
Monday, 25 October 2010
"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
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
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
Sunday, 24 October 2010
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
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
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