It Was Bound to Happen

It was bound to happen. You can’t go this many days without it. A mini-meltdown. No, not the kids. Me. I had a mini-meltdown in front of Notre Dame Cathedral.  I have my reasons, but as I recount them they don’t seem to fully justify my behavior. First of all….it’s hot in Paris. I mean really hot. This is the hottest, driest spring they’ve had since 1901, or so I’m told. Paris is crammed to the brim with people. I know it’s the front end of the high season, and it’s the finals of the French Open. To the French, that’s more important than our Super Bowl and World Series in one. And they’ve come from...

What is it about the French?

I’ve been to France thirty, forty, maybe fifty times over the last forty years.  S. and I even rented a house in the south of France one summer long ago.  I’ve studied the language off and on ever since I made a weak C in French 101 my freshman year in college.  I’ve bought French companies, and I’ve sold French companies.  I’ve had 100’s, if not 1000’s, of French employees over the years.  I know my French history pretty well and collected more than a few pieces of French art.  Hell, I even gave a speech in French at the opening of one our our facilities in the environs of Paris.  I’ve admired French wine, ogled French women, stuffed myself with French food,...

Why 12?

This is another posting on the delights and trepidations of travel with grandchildren upon  attainment of their twelfth year.  This year we have two coming of age (so to speak), and decided with some concern, to do a twofer.  When I’ve explained this to others, I’m generally met with raised eyebrows and an implied, “are you nuts”, and in a way, we are.  S. and I in the fall of our years, cherishing privacy, an afternoon nap, a cocktail or two before dinner, and a schedule dictated only by our whims taking on the task of traveling with and entertaining a young boy and girl teetering between childhood and adolescence.  At this age they know nothing and they know...

The London I Never Knew

I lived in London with my family for three years, and I’ve traveled here frequently over the last forty years.  In fact, I’ve spent more time in London than any other cities in the world, with the obvious exceptions of Dallas and NY. I thought I knew a good bit about the place until S. and I came here with Hudson and Georgia for their twelve year old trip. You may care to know that these twelve year old trips are rooted in a desire to share the lives of our grandchildren more deeply through shared travel, and for the most part, it works.  There is no explicable calculus by which the destinations are determined, but in the end we all have to be happy about the...