Communist pizza

This is Berkeley, so you don't just go out for a partners' lunch to a pizza restaurant. You go out to Cheeseboard Collective, an anarcho-syndicalist commune of like-minded pizza makers. There's no boss, or everyone's the boss. I'm not sure which. Check out the mission statement on their website - I don't make this stuff up!

Along with revolutionary politics they only offer one type of pizza per day. But there is a choice, because they offer one type of salad as well. In keeping with the soviet aesthetic there are very few places to sit down. As such, we found ourselves (with several other groups) occupying the grass strip down the central reservation of the road outside.

That being said the pizza of the day, "Heirloom Tomatoes, Onions, Mozzarella Cheese, Ricotta Salata Cheese, Spinach in a Lemon Vinaigrette", was delicious, especially the crust. Resistance was, quite literally, futile.



Delicious, whatever its political philosophy.



Please order food before taking your seat.

Debate #2

After attending the VP debate last week, tonight I got to go to the Presidential one! Wow.



I was further away this time.



The next President of the USA!

Crisis, what crisis?

It seems that something has been going on with financial markets recently. I don't know the details - that's why Hannah's on the MBA and I'm not. Tonight I decided to change that and get me some education by attending a panel discussion on what's happening in the US, headed by the Dean of Haas himself.

Well, it does seem that there is some trouble here and there. The sheer abstractness of the financial devices that people came up with to squeeze more money out of the system is staggering. One of the speakers showed how there are now around ten (unseen and unregulated) intermediaries between a home buyer and the institution they get their mortgage from, including people who sell parts of their mortgage to overseas banks, people who insure the mortgage, people who sell parts of that insurance to other banks, etc.

The speaker likened one of the "new" financial products to your neighbour insuring their car for $5000, but you being able to take out insurance against your neighbour having a accident up to millions of dollars. She highlighted one company that was 14,000 brokers and a website, no equity, no offices, nothing, and they had sold billions of dollars of insurance that they simply couldn't cover. Everything was bet against house prices rising, and you know what has happened there.

Frankly we should have all been given MBAs just for turning up, and my head is now awash with CDOs, CDSs, corporate paper and whosie-whatsits. The US government got a tentative thumbs up from the panel for managing to quell out-and-out panic thus far, but they were keen to point out that while we're currently in a financial crisis it's not an economic crisis. No folks, that one is still to arrive.

The free food was good though.



Tension mounts. "But will I still get that six-figure investment bank job I was promised when I applied?"



Mmmmmm! It was a Mexican packed tea.



The main man: Dean Rich Lyons (good name for this sort of work).



Don't panic!



Things have got so bad, Hannah's had to take on a part-time cleaning job.

Hardly Strictly Bluegrass

Before we left the UK our friend Andy pointed us towards the annual three-day Hardly Strictly Bluegrass festival in San Francisco. It started on Friday, and though I was deeply disappointed to miss MC Hammer and the Burlington Welsh Male Chorus we were able to make it along this afternoon.

Everything took place over five stages in beautiful, huge Golden Gate Park. The sun was out, the crowds were friendly and the air was thick with substances that may or may not be legal in California.



SF's answer to Central Park.



Other colours of grass are available...and most were being smoked around us.



These are The Opera Dukes. "What would happen if you mixed Bluegrass and Opera?" the program asks. Something roughly similar to mixing oil and water.



This is where it was really happening.



Yep, one banjo in attendance so they qualify.



The haircut I aspire to.



Hundreds could be seen through the smoky haze.



The best seats.



Classic festival sight #14. Is that a real beard?



Most rubbish tattoo ever.



Gogol Bordello, the cutting edge of gypsy punk.



Banjo + tuba = makeshift band. Away from the main stages plenty of people simply struck up on their own instruments, which was one of the best bits. These guys are from the Bluegrass Society of Northern California (I must join).



How country can you get? On the left is Justin Townes Earle, son of legend Steve Earle. And they were playing real bluegrass: "This next song's about a girl who's 80% trouble and 20% trash."



These guys were certainly enjoying the show.



In San Francisco?! Maybe we're closer to the frontier than we think.

Demand is a function of price

As Amir pointed out to me when I wandered past his apartment with a baby tied to me in a papoose, setting your price at zero tends to drive up demand rather than dampen it. I'm reflecting on this while nine-month-old Sophia snores softly behind me. Perhaps I should put myself forward as a case study for Haas...

Hannah and Elise (Sophia's mum) are studying economics, the Golden Bears are currently leading in their latest game of American football, and I have a cute baby to play with. It's a perfect Saturday!



Amir explains basic business theory to me and Sophia.



Day of rest.

Biden vs Palin

I had the privilege of attending the Vice Presidential debate tonight.



She looked right at me!



He didn't.

Partners who lunch

Who says Haas students have all the fun? Certainly not the students as they knuckle down to another day of presentations, statistics problem sets, economics lectures, etc. In a move of selfless solidarity, several partners decided that we should go out for lunch together. For mutual support and stuff.

My morning did not have the best start when I took one-year-old Lyla to her gym class, a soft play paradise of squishy blocks, sponge balls and hula hoops. This was payment to her mum, Tamara, for the trip she took us all on to the Jelly Belly factory. Lyla is the sweetest little girl, but was very tired and wanted only to cling to me in an attempt to nap.

After some success getting her to throw hoops over a cone I got onto a trampoline with her. Cue the arrival of the gym instructor. "This is actually for the kids," I was told in a pleasingly patronising manner. "We try to deter parents from using it."

"I'm not a parent!" I was about to scream back in the manner of a petulant toddler, but thought better of it.

After delivering Lyla home, where Tamara was teaching the village pre-school kids about the letter d (for dinosaur and, coincidentally, David), I met up with Elliot, Dana, Moran, Anat and Daphny for the aforementioned lunch.

We wandered down to Jimmy Beans, a fab street cafe just a short walk from the village. There we seated ourselves around the largest table and proceeded to discuss life, love, art, politics...all the things that our poor partners are missing out on. "I can tell you're a European," Dana commented as I polished off a glass of white wine. I'll have to switch to bourbon.

The post-lunch entertainment was Moran and Sagy's wedding video which arrived as a Rosh Hashanah present. They got married in Tel Aviv after Sagy was accepted to Haas. It was a quiet affair, with only 400 guests (down from their parents' original list of 700). I have never seen anything like it. Next time I get married, it'll be in Israel.



The lonely partners. From the left: Elliot, me, Anat, Dana, Daphny, Moran



Heading back to the village - no rest for the wicked.



Moran, on screen and off.