USA v. England, Saturday, June 12
California Girls
The universal note of which I speak is the Beach boys. The Beach Boys, this morning, blasted out of a small store where I purchased my diet coke and headed to Queen street where I people watched. But they can be frequently heard from store windows and cafes… This morning I saw tourists in bright colored shirts taking photos. Between the Michel’s creperie and the Westgate flower stand, looking at Primark and Beaverbrooks and the Scribbler, I, diet coke in 1 hand, egg and cress sandwich in the other I witnessed cross cultural patterns and the truest form of globalization.
The world wears Uggs, flipflops, jeans and polo. They consume McDonalds and drink Coke, Pepsi and Starbucks. We all eat, pray and love… and we know Beach Boys music: we want to dance, dance, dance, jam with Johnny B. Goode, rock with Barbara Ann, drive a little deuce coup, and have fun, fun, fun. So, a toast to the Beach Boys… and your noteworthy globalization.
Your surfer girl,
ej
Cliveden
Winston, if you were my husband, I'd poison your tea.
Nancy, if I were your husband, I'd drink it
Nancy, if I were your husband, I'd drink it
“Let’s take a vote: all those in favor of returning the Stanford Program to Cliveden, raise your hands!”
Our weekend adventure took us to the Astor estate (yes- that Astor, Lady Nancy Astor of the Churchill/Tea/poison fame!)
As we drove through the massive gates towards the equally spectacular gardens, our jaws dropped, and we didn’t recover until our departure two hours later.
The façade of Cliveden was something definitively more than a house and minutely less than a castle- surrounded by splendor, magnificence, and incredible opulence. The gardens were filled with statuary, shaped trees, and specifically grown black/deep purple tulips, interspersed with white tulips, creating a shadowed wave effect throughout the grounds.
We wandered through the grounds and heard personal stories and histories from Stanford staffers who were employed during the Stanford at Cliveden years, during which time (the late 60s to the early 80s) Stanford students were the great home’s only occupants, thanks to an Astor intention that their address should be inhabited for the greater good of American education. During those decades, the program promoted art and art history, political science, and travel, as students enjoyed living in the main house and the servant’s quarters… and were able to view such pieces as the John Singer Sargent portrait of Lady A that still hangs in the sitting room today, where modern guests take their 5 star restaurant tea. Today, the national trust has turned the estate into a 5star hotel. The collection of cars (which would have paid for several Stanford educations) outside the main doors was proof to the illustrious guests within- as were the not-so-subtle secret service-esque earpieces worn by a few men loitering conspicuously outside their black cars, waiting for someone within.
In awe, we were hushed, just whispering our excitement and joy at being in such magnificence… oh and for the democratic proceedings- every hand was raised when asked about returning to Cliveden- after all, Nancy Astor was the first elected female MP, so democracy is simply a matter of respect for the estate.
what ho!
ej
The world 's her oyster
Do you think the Queen knows that she has da Vinci sketches and Van Dyck portraits? After all, her fortune (or rather, her nation’s fortune) is so grand, I doubt she could possibly be aware of all her pennies and possessions… but seriously- our adventure to Windsor proved to showcase one of the most spectacular art collections in the world… as impressive as the collections at the Met or British Museum…
Not that you’d expect anything less from a Queen… particularly as, when referencing van Dyck, every major family in England with any fortune and/or taste, hangs van Dyck on their walls… after all, he was Charles' court painter for at least a generation. Similarly, hanging Gainsborough and Reynolds is much like hanging… well… we don’t really have an equivalent in the US… except for the fact that they were so prolific in their artistry, that it’s almost like collecting stamps.
Regardless- her Majesty’s collection includes the original Holbein portrait on Henry VIII (the bust that EVERYONE knows) as well as walls of Gainsboroughs, Reynolds, and Rembrandts for good measure, plus the halls filled with suits of armor, coats of arms, and so many pistols and spears, you could be in a production of Macbeth.
And don’t forget her porcelain! I wonder what the logistics would be for using any of those beautiful dining sets… what does she use for state functions? What if she wanted to relive the glory days using the china of Queen Victoria, or King George’s goblets… could she just waltz through Windsor and borrow it for the evening, removing it from the bullet proof casing of course?
onwards to more castles
ej
Books and Boats
With the icy grey waters of the Thames swirling beneath our boat, reflecting the foreboding skies, the scene was unquestionably a Turner-meets-Constable seascape
In other words, it was a perfect day for dragonboat racing on the Thames!
Although lightning and thunder was a mere breeze away- the 16 of us and our fellow intrepid, and strangely dressed, warriors bent on a day of competition and charity, balanced, posed at the ready, waiting for the drum beat.
31 teams gathered on the Thames in the cold early morning to represent a few dozen charities from Make a Wish and Diabetes Care to Breast Cancer Awareness and Doctors without borders.
Our Book Boat, supporting Reading Quest literacy non-profit, was filled with 18 students, representing a variety of nations and several of Oxford colleges, including the bulk of the Corpus Christi crew team. Our drummer was also the cox for the men’s crew team, with the loudest voice on the river.
Our story was one of international drama… as we told the announcer… our boat was filled with scholars devoted to study and literacy around the world. In a less dramatic explanation- the wife of the director of the Stanford program is interim director of Reading Quest… and enlisted Stanford and Oxford students to paddle. The day’s theme (so auspicious for our own charity) was “favorite children’s book characters” and led to utterly ridiculous costuming- there was a boat searching for Waldo, attired in red and white striped shirts, blue pants and thick-ringed glasses, a boat of Harry Potters, and our own team- a more motley crew- including a few Beatrix potter characters, JK Rowling representations, a bit of Dumas (for the more precocious young readers), Lewis Carroll, and some British characters mixed in.
In a great lesson to never judge a book by its cover, the odds on favorite was unquestionably the reigning champions Feel Good Fitness (really, they work out for a living!), other promising teams included the St. Clare’s Oxford squad, and the Abingdon School rowers. But it was our boat that held the 2nd fastest time on the water for much of the morning! (In spite of the fact that until we paddled upstream to the start-line, we’d never paddled as a team)
But in the end, even God couldn’t upset the reigning champions as the Diocese of Oxford boat lost by mere inches to the powerhouse Fitness squad.
So my summers spent dragonboating on the west coast came full circle as I was lead stroke in the annual Abingdon Dragonboat festival on the River Thames. We survived the arctic temperatures, and ultimately held a top 10 time of the day.
And in spite of the forecaster’s vow of rain seemingly destined to dampen the mood, the sailors on the water and the spectators on the river banks were determined to celebrate.
Floating on the River Thames,
ej
Dragonboating on the Thames
in arctic weather
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
