Grey Traffic was scratched. I have decided to end my Saratoga selections after only two days. Too boring! I had a nice day (though not profitable) at Saratoga today. A summer is not complete without one or two trips. I saw the great Allen Jerkins saddle what I thought was a good thing in the 6th. He collapsed in the stretch. Other than that, I had a nice exacta in the second, which I lost back over the rest of the card. I love my boys and I like my work, but it was nice to be away from both for most of the day.

Colita finished second. I will keep track of my selection record. Tomorrow I like Grey Traffic in the 6th.

It has been raining in Saratoga Springs all day long so you can expect a muddy track tomorrow for opening day. My pick is Colita in the 8th race. One off a layoff, Pletcher (trainer) and Velasquez (jockey) with a big number in his last race. I'm a little concerned about the mile and a furlong distance, but this is a tough card. I'll look at the scratches at noon tomorrow and post a change in my selection if warranted.

When Skipper woke up this morning, the first words out of his mouth were "I've got bad news for you Dad. I'm all wet." And so was the bed.

This evening Henry started playing with a bag of fresh diapers sitting on a shelf in the TV room. His actions reminded me that we have not used a diaper on either boy for a week and a half. The transformation has been quick. Henry only figured it out in the last month and Skipper was having problems at night. I'm happy and sad. A year ago we were probably going through 10 diapers a day; that's $3 a day or over a thousand dollars a year.

So, with the thousand dollars saved, I'm going to Saratoga. I will be in attendance, assuming good weather this Thursday and the last Monday in August. Over the course of the 36 day meet, I will try to post one selection each day. One horse each day. No trifectas, superfectas, exactas, pick sixes, or doubles. We'll see how we do.

Today was an iffy weather day so instead of a jaunt to the beach, we did a playground tour. Although repeating things too often with the boys is usually a mistake, playground tours are typically our most successful excursion. We started at the "baby park" near our house, then continued on to Bristol where after a brief stop at the Audubon society (too many mosquitoes!), we took in the playground at the Bristol Town Beach. The equipment here is only satisfactory, as is the beach, except for the many perfectly shaped skipping stones. I had a couple of teners (10 skips), and Skipper had some success as well.

We then moved on to the small playground near the Prudence Island Ferry dock. The jungle gym here is small but interesting and overlooks the ferry as well as Bristol Harbor, the harbor patrol boat, the harbor pump station boat, and many quahogging skiffs. For the alcoholic father (or mother as the case may be) two pubs with decks (one with Guinness umbrellas, the other with Campari) overlook the park. We toured all the vessels in sight, but unfortunately never made it to the oases across the street, because we were informed of a spectacular playground at Bristol Commons, just two blocks away.

And spectacular it was. I counted 11 slides, at least 3 with a corkscrew fall, of which one was the highest slide any of us had ever seen. Skipper tackled it immediately, although Henry passed. The boys were in seventh heaven for the most of two hours. The sun snuck through the clouds and we are all sunburned for lack of the block we are usually so vigilant to apply. Our day was capped off by the arrival of a well stocked ice cream truck. Skipper selected the Ninja Turtle bar and Henry a Hulk bar (because of the H) and both were devoured.

Skipper misbehaved tonight at a casual dinner with my mother and a close friend. He threw food and in a wacky way threatened the friend with a butter knife. What to do? Sarah was furious and has cancelled his television privileges for tomorrow. I talked to him but nothing seemed to sink in. He came up with irrelevant excuses.

But the curse never ends. The curse is the calling. With no curse, there is no calling. I worry about sailing with Tim and Allison again. Were they the antidote for the curse? Will the wind always blow 12 knots perpendicular to our course when they are aboard? Will the fog part before us and all the limited anti-curse gadgets on board (a depthsounder, charts, and compass) work as designed? Of course not! I still avoid radar, propane grills, and especially cell phones which might break the curse, but would also break my connection with the sea. Likewise, I remain irrationally reluctant to invite them on another cruise.

Then again, maybe I'll infect them, just as my dad infected me.

A common sense comment I have had (from a Harvard man) on my Kerry-Bush postings is that it would be reasonable that Kerry would know (or remember knowing Bush) at Yale while Bush wouldn't remember Kerry. Bush was the grandson of Prescott Bush who had been a US Senator from Connecticut until 1963. Kerry was a politico and probably was vetting Skull and Bones recruits. He would be interested in Bush. Bush would have had no interest in Kerry.

The food ashore was a treat; the crew behaved themselves; there was no infection from bad clams; no hurricane watch; no need to rely on rowing ashore and back; no attempts to sail through the anchorage; no bad clevis pin (I inspected carefully before we left); and no fresh North wind or obstructed visibility be it by fog or wind driven spray. The sail back was almost boring except for the anticipation of a pending disaster. Nothing happened. The curse had ended.

The Curse is the Calling (Continued)

Nantucket

July 1995

For seven years I had avoided Nantucket. I now had a new boat. The last Pearson 33, purchased unfinished at the bankruptcy auction in June of 1991. A year's work, with a lot of assistance and expense, but the Sophie Ruth (my two late grandmothers) was my pride and joy. I was afraid to take her to Nantucket, but finally I decided it was time to put all the bad experiences behind me. I was joined by my girlfriend Helen, her experienced sailing friends Allison and Tim and their 13 month old daughter Leah. It was the baby that concerned me. But she was great. The sail there was fine; a brief grounding entering Lake Tashmoo, the only event. I was concerned when we had to anchor in Nantucket; no moorings available. Nothing catastrophic happened; my anchor held, no one caromed off our side either by wind or foolhardiness. We enjoyed a great fireworks show.

The end result is that there is nothing to all this except that secrets lead to lies or half truths. If Bush and Kerry did know each other during their Yale days they should say so, and the society should release them from their vows of secrecy.

Back to notsailing.

The second name I noticed in the Skull and Bones list was David Hoadley Thorne, Class of '66 with Kerry. Thorne has remained a close friend of John Kerry since those days, and Kerry married his twin sister Julia, had two children with her, in a marriage that lasted more than a decade. Thorne is credited today with being one of the chief architects of Kerry's recent fund raising success. Both David Thorne and Kerry's ex-wife Julia have been recent campaign contributors to Kerry-Edwards.

But also on the list is Brinkley Stimson Thorne, Class of '68 with George Bush. The genealogy sites are pretty thorough when it comes to the Thornes. David and Brinkley were first cousins. Here we have some meat.

For sure, Brinkley knew George Bush as a fellow bonesman, if not sooner. He certainly knew John Kerry through both of his first cousins. He probably went to their wedding. Brinkley lives in Northampton MA near the home of Amherst College, where he is a practicing architect, and where he and his brother Gordon as well as their wives operate a restored 19th century department store which has been subdivided into more than 25 units. It is called Thornes Marketplace. Brinkley has been a recent campaign contributor to Bush-Cheney.

The Vogue quote from Kerry in March of '03, seemingly confirming that Kerry new George Bush at Yale has since been qualified by Kerry to the press, although I have not been able to identify the nature of the qualification. My thinking is that Kerry did know George Bush in some way as an acquaintance, but heard much more about him while a senior or after graduation. Both Brinkley and possibly Derek Bush would have talked about him in such a way (from one bonesman to another) to give Kerry the feeling that he really knew him as more than an acquaintance. So much so that Kerry could say "I knew him, and he's still the same guy."

Another possible complication for John Kerry (and George Bush) in reporting his early relationship with George Bush (John Kerry) is that his personal knowledge of him may be only through "Skull and Bones" a secret society either while he was at Yale or after. My judgment is that senior bonesman were probably evaluating sophomores as well as juniors for future selection to the society; putting a short list together to help the next year's class. There have also been alumni skull and bones reunions, also secret, where they may have met as early as the late 60's.

My final thoughts on this in my next posting.

The first name that I noticed in the Skull and Bones list was Derek C. Bush, Class of '67. He would have been selected to join the secret society by Kerry's class and he would have been a picker of George Bush. A Google search reveals that he was an All Ivy soccer player at Yale in the fall of 1966. Kerry was also a varsity soccer player at Yale and lead the Bulldogs to an upset victory over Harvard scoring 3 goals in the fall of 1965. Thus, they were teammates.

Who is Derek Bush? Is he a cousin of George? At least two unauthorized Skull and Bones websites imply that he is. The genealogy sites surprisingly fail to extend the Prescott Bush genealogy trail out to living members, so we have no authoritative list of George H. Bush's cousins. Has the secret service been editing the genealogy sites? That would be OK with me. People have a right to privacy.

A Google search for Derek reveals a surprisingly large number of Derek Bushs.

*A British drummer in an aging rock band - not likely.
*A lawyer in a Washington law firm - likely except that his law firm's website reports that he was a 1989 graduate of Princeton.
*An interior designer located in Paris who is also a member of Toastmasters of Paris - possible although a photograph suggests a younger man.
*A personnel specialist in Atlanta - too young.
*A British expatriate living in Brazil who attends meetings of the Old Georgian Club in Sao Paulo - unlikely although the photos suggest the right age.
*A stock car racer in North Dakota - no way.

None of them sound right. It is surprising that an All Ivy, Skull and Bones initiate from 1967 has disappeared off the face of the earth. After all, the Skull and Bones members were intended to be the world's leaders. Could he be dead, killed in Viet Nam like Kerry's friend Dick Pershing, or a mole with the CIA like other bonesman, or such a public failure that his name has never been posted on the internet?

But what's the point? The point is that if Derek Bush was a cousin of George's then Kerry most certainly would have met George through Derek, both as a soccer teammate and as a Skull and Bones selection.

We have no confirmation and our big question - Did John Kerry know George Bush at Yale?- remains unanswered.

I've been doing some research. It is pretty amazing that our two Presidential candidates were both at Yale (Kerry '66, Bush '68) and in the same Skull and Bones secret society which is limited to 15 new members each year. I have no conspiracy theory. What interests me is whether they knew each other. Kerry says he did. Tim Russert read a Kerry quote (from a profile in Vogue) to the President during his February (04) appearance on Meet the Press. "I know this guy. He was two years behind me at Yale. I knew him and he's still the same guy." Russert then asked Bush "Did you know him at Yale? The President's response was "No."
 
Is Bush lying again, or is his memory faulty (possible), or is he in some way distinguishing between acquainted and knowing. The same could be said for Kerry.

The most likely connection and opportunity for knowing one another is through Skull and Bones. I've looked at the 45 names of Skull and Bones initiates for the classes of 66, 67, and 68. The basics of being selected to Skull and Bones are that you are selected as a junior to take over for the seniors who are graduating. Thus, if Bush and Kerry were only a year apart, they would certainly have know each other. In my next posting, I will begin to report on how the two year gap might have been transcended.   
 

I'll be taking a little break from sailing. There is one more chapter of the "Curse is the Calling" to come. The recent weather has discouraged thoughts of sailing. Those who had scheduled this week as their cruise week must be ready to walk the plank. Rain, fog, and drizzle for three days with more forecast to come.

Sarah took the boys to Roger Williams Park today, first to the planetarium. They didn't like it. "Too dark!" they said. Then they went to the butterfly exhibit at the zoo. That was not a success either. Skipper said he didn't like the smell and proceeded to hold his nose the whole time they were there. Henry agreed and copied his brother. Sarah's description of her trying to lead them around the crowded exhibition with them both holding their noses was priceless. It was a good week to be working.

We dropped the sails and escaped under power as hundreds (or so it seemed) of viewers watched our adventure. The humiliation was complete later when I rowed over and discussed the catastrophe with the owner of the Cape Dory who had returned shortly after the incident. Unbelievably, there was no damage to either vessel.

We never met the models.

Anthony was in the bow; I was at the wheel. Was I showing off my Nantucket experience? "Watch out," yelled Anthony, as a dinghy pulled out from the stern of a moored boat to Starboard. I turned to Port to avoid them, while on a broad starboard tack, clearly in my mind avoiding a Cape Dory cutter moored to Port. For some reason I never understood, there was a hook on the end of the boom of the Josephine. The end of the boom just barely touched the shrouds on the Cape Dory as we passed by, and the hook caught onto their shrouds. Instantaneously, a pleasant sail through the anchorage turned into humiliation as the 10,000 pound displacement Josephine was brought to a dead stop and crushed against the side of the Cape Dory, locked together by the hook on the boom and the shrouds of the unwary cutter.

Fitting the pattern of all my voyages to Nantucket, this second sail of the season on route to the island was also uneventful. It was such a beautiful evening on arrival, with a favorable wind, that I chose to sail the whole way into the harbor and through the anchorage looking for a mooring or a good spot to anchor. It was cocktail hour and crews from scores of boats sat in their cockpits eating cheese and crackers and sipping wine or gin and tonics. We enjoyed their joy too much.

The reason for the second trip that year was that Anthony's wife had a job as a stylist for a fashion shoot on the Island. "We should sail there so I can take care of Gian while she's working," he said. "We might meet the models in the shoot." he also said.

Anthony had become my main first mate during the Josephine days. A Memorial Day trip to Block Island, the two cruises to Nantucket, a longer voyage to Maine which ended with poor Josephine sinking at the dock on Bailey's Island, and later cruises to Watch Hill, Chatham and Wellfleet, the last two on the Sophie Ruth. Anthony is a self employed illustrator and was usually able to organize his schedule to fit my restricted vacation allowances. Like Selby, he has great intuitive mechanical skills and take charge courage. Whether we were grounded or trapped in a fish net or lobster buoy, he was always the first over the side with a knife in his teeth or a mask and flippers to check for damage. When a seagull in Cuttyhunk swooped off with our sizzling overpriced steak, he kept up our spirits with a carefully grilled salami concoction.

The Curse is the Calling (continued)

Nantucket
July 1987

"Hey," Anthony said, "Lets try Nantucket again." So we did.

Today we went to the beach. Skipper was very happy. He ran along the beach and splashed through the ocean. Later he went swimming with his new swim vest in a brackish pond behind the main beach at Goosewing.

Henry refused to take off his shoes and socks. He wanted to go home. After much whining, he finally agreed to take off his shoes, but he refused to walk in the sand. I carried him along the shoreline looking for something interesting. After a short while, I spotted a dead fish about two feet long. Henry jumped to attention, wiggled out of my arms and raced along the beach to inspect our find. He poked the fish (reported by another passerby to be a Tautog) and smelled it. He returned with me by foot to the pond and happily waded into the water. All was well with the world.

The next Chapter of the "Curse is the Calling" will begin tomorrow.