Vladimir Kagan's Blog

The Joy of working with your hands

 

The Zen of Model Boat Building

 

Copyright Vladimir Kagan October 15, 2015

 

Zen 

noun: Zen; noun: Zen Buddhism

a Japanese school of Mahayana Buddhism emphasizing the value of meditation and intuition.

 

Several weeks ago I ranted about my niggling personal faults: “I am compulsive - impulsive – slap-dash and never measure!” There is one cure for that: Build a model boat! It teaches patience and precision, resulting in the deep satisfaction of working with your hands. It liberates you from the computer. It is reasonably quick and does not exhaust your attention span. And most satisfying: it gives you bragging rights of having done it yourself and yet one more model to put on your bookshelf or mantle.

 

My latest accomplishment - a scale model of a Gloucester Dory, in the library of my Nantucket home

A closeup photos of the intricacies of the Gloucester Dory model.  

 

 

Nantucket is blessed with a number of dedicated craft centers: NISDA, (Nantucket Island School Design and Art) an unofficial offshoot of RISD (Rhode Island School of Design) and AAN (Artist Association of Nantucket) founded by artists for artist – have wonderful teaching programs. And there is also the 1800 House, a beautifully restored historic building dedicated to teaching historic crafts. It is one of the NHA’s (the Nantucket Historic Association) notable properties and an example of alternate uses of historic structures

 

The 1800 House is where my wife, Erica Wilson, taught adorable children’s classes, a tradition now carried on by my daughter Vanessa. It is also where my friend, Mark Sutherland teaches a class in model boat building.

 Mark is one of the finest model makers in the country. He has made a career out of his childhood love and builds exquisite models for museums and private collections. It is fortunate that Mark owns a family house on Nantucket and spends part of his summers with us. It allows him to teach this program. This was my second class with Mark.

(At the end of this article, please see a few photos of Mark's work) 

This years’ project was a model of a Gloucester Dory. Some fifty years ago I owned one of these beautiful boats. It was unfortunately smashed into smithereens during one of Nantucket’s hurricanes. I had saved the sternpost all these years until finally this spring I cleaned out my garage and asked, “Why am I saving this?” and dumped it into the landfill! (One of my listed faults: impulsive knee-jerk reaction.)  Here was my opportunity to create a memorial for this handsome boat.

 

My original Gloucester Dory  photo taken in the 70's with Erica and my three children - note: we had a center well for a small outboard motor

 

 

The most famous Dory: A Winslow Homer's painting of a fisherman returning home with his catch

 

The beginning

On the first day, Mark provided us with a perfect model of a Dory. We took one look at it and questioned “Was that what he intended us to produce in four half days???” He assured us it would be done!

The bits and pieces that made up Mark's boat building  kit. 

We were handed a ‘kit’ consisting of a bundle of white pine wood cut to different sizes and shapes.  A handful of stainless steel stickpins, a bag of clothespins, an Exacto knife, a sand paper block, pencil, cardboard, scissors, a pair of fine nosed pliers and a variety of fast drying glues. These were all the tools we were to work with. The only machine available was a table mounted belt sander. We were ready to start. 

The delicate task of assembling the first planks

The model boat building process is exactly the same as building a full size version. You start from the bottom with the floorboards and add the stern and bow posts. Quickly, we understood why we were given a sand paper block, you must whittle and sand each component to fit perfectly as they will become inaccessible once assembled. This is painstaking, laborious work and the first test in patience! Each lap strait panel needed to be bent to fit the curve of the boat. Pins and clothespins substituted for the heavy clamping used on the full-size boat.

Each day moved us closer to fulfilling our goal. The pleasure was seeing this boat take shape from the ground up. The most challenging and rewarding task was carving the oars. They are so pretty and delicate.

 

 

 

The first lesson in diligence is patience!

Mark Sutherland demonstrating how to set the steel pins.

My favorite bi-product: carving the oars

Satisfaction at last: My finished model on the left - Mark's on the right.

Mission accomplished: Four days later -  the proud participants in the class showing off their models

 

Each year Mark offers a different class of a boat for us to recreate. My first model was a half-hull of an Indian, a venerable day racing boat designed by John Alden in 1927. It is still one of the most competitive classes racing in Nantucket each summer. I have owned my Indian for over forty years.

The half-model of my Indian hanging over the entrance door to the kitchen

 

Mark Sutherland's models - to contact Mark, use the Link below 

Mark Sutherland <[email protected]>

 

 

A half model of the whale ship Essex is next year's project: I am already itching to get started!

 

 

 

 

Home at Last

 

 

Remembrances Of Switzerland

Bits and Pieces

 

Copyright Vladimir Kagan, March 23, 2015

 

Mission accomplished…. . Having dealt with two major losses within one year, my sister desperately needed a change of pace. It took me two months to convinced her to come with me to sunny Palm Beach.

 

LOOKING BACK

Two months in Geneva was too long – two months was not enough. No matter how you slice it- you want more – you’ve had enough.

 

It took time to slow my engine down. Coming from hyper paced New York City to placid Geneva I learned to move at a snail’s pace. You open your eyes to see things you’ve missed.

 

NATURE

Take the Plain Trees. Plain trees are particularly suited for city planting, as they don’t shed bark! Instead they peel as they grow, shedding paper-thin bits of their outer skin, giving the stems a freckled look. They are ubiquitous in every city. In New York, they are primarily pissoires for dogs. In Geneva they take on certain majesty. For one thing, they are pollarded*. This process gives the trees abundant energy to rejuvenate during the winter and burst forth with clusters of branches and leaves that form a dense umbrella for shade. As their growth is stunted vertically, they develop impressive trunks, some as much as three feet in diameter. The pruned stubs of the branches are knurly and picturesque (or gross, however you look at them).

 *Pollarding is a pruning system in which the upper branches of a tree are removed, promoting a dense head of foliage and branches. It has been common in Europe since medieval times.

 

Pollarded plain Trees on Geneva's streets


 Roses in the famous flower clock on Lake Geneva

In Geneva one could take the time out to smell the roses.  They grew prolifically along the paths of the Lake. No more! Eco minded Genovese, have found that the fertilizer required to keep them in bloom was polluting their lake. (American communities take note!)

 

PEOPLE WATCHING

Girls: I am an expert in observing beautiful ladies. While the rest of the world worships blonds, Geneva is the Mecca for lovely brunettes.

If Genovese ladies take to the bottle (hair dyes, that is) they seem to prefer auburn tints to blond.

 

ARCHITECTURE

Swiss industrial buildings are a joy to behold. Drive along the well groomed Swiss Throughways and you’ll see gems of contemporary designs; not just box architecture dressed with surface graphics, but factories thoroughly innovative from the ground up.

 

A modern factory outside of Bulle in the Swiss Alps

 

(While in my last Blog I lamented new developments as the desecrators of the countryside. Here are some buildings that I admire.)

You might not think of the Swiss as particularly colorful, but I have found beautiful use of color in their modern architecture.

In downtown Geneva, I discovered an exciting new bridge that crosses the Arle. A feast for the eyes.
 

The Bulle bypass

The Swiss have always been master tunnel and bridge builders. Driving into the mountains, the small towns along the way have built impressive bypass roads and tunnels that move congesting traffic out of their picturesque main streets. Their costs are extravagant, but the Swiss are long-range planners

 

ROOFS AND CHIMNEYS

On my daily walks, I noticed things often overlooked while driving. I became enthralled with Geneva’s turn of the century buildings; their gabled roofs and the amusing chimneys that grew out of them.

     

 

Geneva has managed to bury its unsightly telephone wires. The wiring is neatly packaged in decorated junction boxes.

 

TRANSPORTATION

Geneva can boast the most Eco friendly public transportation system. All their buses and trams are clean air electric. The bi-product: a spider’s web of electric wiring overhead… but their trams and buses are streamlined and modern. All silently gliding through the city.

 

MOUNTAINS

I could not leave Switzerland without my ‘Ode to the Mountains.’ This is where I find peace and happiness. It is where Erica and I “sat out” 9/11 when all flights were canceled to the USA; It’s where we skied, summered, brought up kids, and recharged our batteries. It is the home of fondues and aged mountain cheese. In the springtime, the air is perfumed with freshly spread manure (an aroma that is an acquired taste) and in summer, there is nothing like the smell of fresh-cut hay.

 

 

A photo out of the picture window above and my sketch below

 

 

This is the end of my Swiss sermon (But I already have my return ticket.)

 

And now back in the US of A… It has been a hoot entertaining my sister in the Florida sunshine. She has just returned home to her beloved dogs, refreshed and well rested.

 

Clowning around with the family in the Key Lime Restaurant in Lantana, near Palm Beach

Left to right: Matt, Isabelle visiting from England, Vladi, Tanya,  Gigi in front, in back: Capt. Hook, Vanessa and Olivia

 

 

 

 

 

A fortnight in Europe 

Copyright Vladimir Kagan, October 25, 2014

 

 

The ubiquitous water fountain on Lake Geneva

I love to travel -- hate to fly … but fly I must. To make it more tolerable and assure that I arrive in one piece: luggage, computers, electronic paraphernalia and far, far too much clothing…I need a keeper… This makes it a perks for my kids … how often do you get to bond with your adult children for a fortnight?

 

Jessica and me at the vernissage

This time the lucky straw was drawn by Jessica. Of my three children, she’s the most fun loving and adventuresome, She’s imbued with joie de vivre. No grass grows under her feet. It’s a 24/7 adventure. “Oh Daddy, can’t we do this – go there – buy that??? She inherited her mother’s philosophy: “You can agree with me or you can be wrong!” The formula for happiness with Jessica is simply say YES. With that admonition we packed in a month of travel into ten days.

 

First stop: Geneva

A visit with my sister Tanya for her art show to celebrate the memory of her departed daughter Cathy, who died after a prolonged bout with cancer. The show was a gem. Tanya is an amazing artist; she has a sturdy hand, bold use of color and a wicked sense of humor.

 

Tanya Josefowitz's art show

 

 

The invitation to Tanya's vernissage opening of her show in Geneva's old town

Tanya's portrait of Cathy

         

Dinner with my sister Tanya, after the show

Visiting with Tanya is a continuous food orgy. She loves to cook; she loves to eat; she loves to entertain. Between meals we promised each other to go on a diet... Ha, ha!

A small dinner party at Tanya's house - there were fourteen at the table - some had gotten up when I took this photo

++++

 

 A visit to to the Marche au Puce

Jessica does not stand still - Our first outing was to the Marche au Puce. I am obliged to keep up with her. It’s “swim or perish” as she bravely pushes me in a wheelchair. I could have done the show in ten minutes and see nothing that I need or want… Jessica managed to spend three hours and brought home two shopping bags full of “must have – can’t live without” stuff…. This was our warm-up session for saving Europe’s sagging economy.

Where I could find nothing, Jessica found treasures

Some of Jessica's treasures - found in the first five minutes of our stroll

   

The Marche is full of weirdos... I forgot to photograph them all... here is one chomping on a join

 

Second stop: Gstaad

The weather turned from a drizzly fall week into an unexpected sunny summer weekend. The lure of the mountains was irresistible. We extracted ourselves from Tanya’s culinary temptations and drove to Gstaad in the Bernese Oberland. You know how much I adore the mountains and Jessica does too. In two days we packed in a week of eating Fondues, fresh baked croissants, meringue with “berg rahm” and hot chocolate.

 

The route out of Lausanne is breathtaking, driving high above Lake Geneva

 Even the rest stops are magnificent where we stopped for lunch..."A selfie" 

 

...And finally up the twisting mountain road over the Mt. Diablore pass, the highest peak in the region.

 

My feeble attempt at landscape sketching

 

 

Enjoying a hot chocolate with meringue and “berg rahm” at Early Beck, the best bake shop in the area

Paragliding, the big sport in Switzerland - soaring free as a bird

 

Next Paris

On Sunday, we reluctantly drove to Geneva and caught the TGV to Paris arriving in time for a mid-night snack and off to bed… The next morning there was serious shopping to be done by Jessica … (She manages to ferret out every thrift shop in town, no matter how small or hidden) while I met with Julien Lombard, the creative director and co-owner of the Carpenters Workshop Gallery, who are planning an exhibit of my latest designs: Art-furniture cast in bronze and aluminum  combined with luxurious fabrics and precious woods. … How I wish that I could show you my sketches… but I must keep them under wraps to surprise you next September.

  

Jessica with Julien Lombard enjoying lunch at the famous Cafe Benoit

 

Beautiful Paris architecture

 Julien Lombard and his family in the Carpenters Workshop Gallery's warehouse

While in Paris, a friend sent me this clipping announcing that I am Wallpapers choice of 100 Best Designers In The World


 

Return to Geneva

As you can see, Jessica and I travel light for a two-day visit to Paris! (the big black bag is my portable wheel chair)

There was still shopping to be one in Geneva… the Marche is open Wednesday as well as the weekend. As there were stands not yet visited, Jessica managed a return visit and still met me on time for a luncheon given by one of my glamorous clients… impeccably served by a white-gloved butler.

 

That night we packed our purchases and twice as much clothing than we arrived with… Early next morning we headed for the airport and flight home.

 

Back in New York

 

Our reentry into the real world is best described in one word: “Yuk”

...… And we were hardly missed!

  

Note: many of the best photos in this blog posting were taken by my daughter Jessica 

A Model T tour through the back-woods of Connecticut - part 2

Survival in a Model T

The annual Ocean to Ocean Reunion - part 2

Copyright Vladimir Kagan, July 17, 2014

 

“The Mashantucket Pequot is a federally recognized Native American nation in the state of Connecticut. They are descended from the Pequot people. Within their Reservation in Ledyard, Connecticut, the Mashantucket Pequot operate Foxwoods Resort Casino. It is the world's largest resort casino in terms of gambling space and number of slot machines, and one of the most economically successful.”… Wikipedia

…To achieve certification as a Native American, ancestral lineage can consists of as little as 1/16 Indian blood... I could not tell if there were any Indians around...VK

 

Now let me tell you about Foxwoods....When driving westward on Ct Route 2 into a forested wilderness, there suddenly loom three huge towers, soaring above miles of rolling hills and treetops: colossal structures, reminiscent of the biblical Tower of Babel. Their groteske architecture is pure Las Vegas. The garish interiors of the Casino are pompous; they are Sodom and Gomorrah on steroids. Old ladies, wizened gents, oversized men and women perched on raised swivel chairs, engrossed in the act of feeding hundreds of slot-machines with millions of dollars, 24 hours a day, seven days a week…Once, many, many years ago, slots swallowed pennies, quarters and for the big spenders: silver dollars. The occasional winner was rewarded with the satisfactory sound of coins dropping out of the hopper and overflowing into the laps of the lucky winner. There was the satisfaction of pulling a lever that gave a sense of skill; you controlled the speed and somehow held Lady Luck in your hand. That’s gone; today you must buy slugs from the cashier, insert a five-dollar bill to activate the machine and push a button to watch the three cylinders spin. On rare occasion three picture images will align and you have won… An electronic noise will simulate the sound of falling coins. Instead of a pocket full of cash, a slip of paper pops out that is the record of your winning… That is the pleasure of the modern slot machine!

I arrived with a pocket full of silver dollars that a friend gave me…. and returned home with the same amount…. Gambling was not on my agenda.

 

 

unspoiled forrest's as far as the eye can see until you come upon two "Towers of Babel" piercing through the landscape

 

the electronic key to my room on the 21st floor

 

Las Vegas in the Connecticut Woods

Willard Revaz and Bob Osborn, our congenial Connecticut hosts chose Foxwoods as a convenient location to fan out from. The rooms were luxurious, the group rates reasonable and the food plentiful. We were provided with designated safe parking for our gaggle of antique cars… What more could we ask for!

 

 
Our "toys" safely tucked away in the garage

 

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GILLETTE'S PALACE

 

The second day’s excursion was a mere fifty miles roundtrip to the Gillette Palace; a pile of stones built into a twenty eight-room mansion by an eccentric actor. Back at the turn of the century, William Gillette’s major claim to fame was interpreting Sherlock Holmes in thousands of performances around the USA… It also made him a multi-millionaire. The palace was interesting for its bizarre interior features and the magnificent view of the Connecticut River.

 

Lunchtime: with our stomachs grourling for food, we found a Subway sandwich shop to fill the empty cavities in our tummies. I must confess that a fully loaded baget is my favorite sin-food. But you never know who you will meet where! A model T is a crowd magnet. A delightful man sauntered up to our cars and proceeds to tell us of his collection just a few miles away... and off we scoot in search of a zany model T collectors in the backwoods of Connecticut.

our new friend, Richard Beckwith, showing us his collection of antique cars

Richard's calling card reads "Cluttered Barn" and that is what T collectors look like

 

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MYSTIC SEAPORT

Mystic Seaport

the training vessel Joseph Conrad moored alongside the restoration shipyard

No visit to this part of Connecticut is complete without a day at Mystic Seaport: the destination for our third day of touring. Seaport is a beautifully preserved fishing village and home to the only fully restored, commercial Whaling ship still afloat, the Charles W. Morgan. Unfortunately, it had set sail up the coast of New England the day before we arrived.

 

The only existing operative steamboat with its original engines ticking away down below

 

 

The salvaged keel of a sunken whaling ship

The working lumberyard used for the Museum's ship restoration program

and finally a horse and buggy ride through the streets of the little fishing village of Mystic

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SUBMARINE MUSEUM

Entrance to the Submarine Museum at Groton Connecticut... the two rings represent the smallest and largest submarine every built

On our final day was another “boy’s adventures” visit to the Submarine Museum at Groton. The showpiece of the Museum was The Nautilus, the first atomic submarine built over sixty years ago. In spite of my limitations, I climbed down its narrow steep steps into the bowls of the ship. A claustrophobic chamber of gages tubes, pipes, and crew quarters that are not everyone’s vision of comfort.

 
me, an unlikely submariner on the Nautilus - Bushnells one man sub from the revolutionary war designed to attach explosives to enemy ships... it did not work


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CHAOS 

Retuning home from this pleasant visit, the “fun” began. Chuckling up the steep three floors to the hotel’s parking garage, my car sputtered, spat fumes, and finally DIED ten feet from the top! …. At first it stood still…. My heart jumped into my throat… moments later we began the perilous roll backwards… NO BRAKES! (It is a notorious fact that Henry Ford’s clever Rocky Mountain brakes work extremely well rolling forward but NOT backwards!

It was a moment of pure terror… Memories flashed back to four years ago when Erica and I started to slide backwards on a hairpin turn on Smuggler’s Notch, the steepest mountain pass in Vermont….

 Just before we were about to start a roller-coaster ride down the three floors of the garage and almost certain disaster, my daughter Jessica, who was the designated map-reader for the day, had the instantaneous reflex to grab my airplane chuck, jump out of the car and plant it under the back wheel, stopping the car’s free-fall roll… Saved one more time!

Again, Doug came to the rescue and crawled under the car to determine that I had worn out the driving band, a mysterious strap of Teflon that propels the car forward in low gear. This was serious. He managed to tighten it enough to drive the last ten feet up to our designated parking area… that was it. The “Lizzie” could go no further.

 

Almost at the top --- Doug's car is waiting

Doug to the rescue once again - note the chuck behind the back wheel... it stopped our roller-coaster ride down the garage ramp

Doug adjusting his tools - note the roller-coaster ramp to the bottom

 

 

"Gray's Anatomy" of my Model T

When things get desperate, there is always a guardian angel! This time he came in the form of Adam Hubacz… a dedicated Model T mechanic, who lived some eighty miles north near the New Hampshire border. Adam had worked on my car before and I persuaded him to drive down to Foxwoods and replace the worn-out band. He arrived at 10 PM and started to take the engine apart. Chris stood by and took gory photos of the process reminiscent of Gray’s Anatomy. Hours past midnight the final blow fell: I had burned out the internal drive-drum… No repair could be affected without the complete removal of the engine. The only solution was to tow the car to Adam’s farm in North Brookfield, Massachusetts, where it now rests and awaits his patient skill on “T” time.

Unloading the car at Adam's Farm in Massachusetts

 

POST SCRIPT

 

Doug's dog could care less - She just enjoyed the ride!

The jewel of Classic Car shows

A Guys Thing

cars – cars - cars

Copyright Vladimir Kagan, April 17, 2014

 

There are only a few things that can draw a man’s attention away from a shapely woman… and that is a shapely car! However, judging by the number of enthusiastic female “oglers” at the Barrett – Jackson Collector Car Auction, in West Palm Beach, this is no longer only a guy’s thing.

 

Palm Beach Fairgrounds is a huge complex that hosts anything from Agricultural events, to Gun Shows, to County Fairs with scary rides for the kiddies… but the best event for me, is the Classic Car show with 750 mint condition vehicles ready to be auctioned on the block.  Each car is driven onto the stage and within five minutes, is sold and the next beauty appears. For those with stamina, it was the World Series of car sales… It starts at 9 in the morning and drags on none-stop until 9 pm only to be continued the next day.  Bidders and spectators bring their kids in strollers, their lunch and beer, and sit on bleacher benches under an air-conditioned tent.

 

No one bothered to look at the shapely ladies - all eyes were on the shapely cars

 
This guy stole my thunder on his electric tricycle - I have a soft spot for bikers

 

I love classic cars… for me they are a collectable art. I would gladly own one in my living room…cheaper and much more enjoyable than some of the multi-million dollar “contemporary art” sold at Sotheby’s’ or Christie’s.

 I am prone to give my unofficial awards: my choice for Best In Show is the Super-charged, yellow convertible 1937 Cord … Next: I am anointing a little Hot-Rod…(I normally dislike Hot-Rods) they are a travesty inflicted on beautiful classic vehicles… but I found this one to have exquisite lines as it hovers 2” above the ground… (Not your best car for snow or bumpy back roads.)

My choice for "best in show" the 1937 Cord

...and for my second prize: this unlikely Hot Rod

 

At the show, it was obvious that the hot new car of the year is the 2015 Corvette Stingray … a muscle car on steroids. It is a beauty! Looking back fifty years, it is hard to believe how the elegant little Corvette morphed into this intoxicating raging bull of a vehicle.

This "man-eating shark" is the new 2015 Stingray 

 

This is the new image of the 2015 Corvette - The Stingray

It is hard to believe that this elegant little 50's  car is the "granddaddy" of these new monster cars

 

 

I have always been a car buff. My first car was a 1937 LaSalle (a division of the Cadillac motor company) It was the most beautiful car I have ever owned - it was also a lemon. At the car show, I had a nostalgic passion for the dozen 50’s Thunderbirds, mostly dressed in red, the only proper color for a respectable T bird.– It was my little red 1955 “T” Bird that Erica married back in 1957… I just happened to own it!

 

This is almost a replica of my original 1955 T Bird (except this one is a 1956)

The engine that made the T Bird throb

The Tunderbird is still a head-turner - even sixty years later

 Looking back over the years, I seldom ever bought a new car off the a dealer’s floor – I nearly did once, when I walked into a Plymouth dealership and drove out with a white station wagon… it lasted half a day as Erica threatened divorce unless I got my old Thunderbird back out of the trade-in!

 

 I seemed to have a taste for the exotic and remember wanting a Keiser but settled for a Nash (with cruise control option) next it was a little Hillman Station wagon which we picked up in England and drove to the south of France and then shipped it back to the USA.  After the little “Hilly” died, I had the notion to buy a classic Bentley Park-Ward convertible, this made for an enjoyable trip to the English countryside in search of my dream car. However, my accountant talked me out of it, assuring me that everyone in my factory would want an immediate raise when they saw me driving it.

 

This jaguar is the closest car I could find that looked like my dream-car, The Bentley  Park-Ward 

 

Subsequently my taste in cars became mundane… until the 70’s when I bought my 1922 Center Door Model T. This enjoyable car has satiated my taste for the exotic ever since.

 
Being a Model T fan, I found this over-restored 1912 Depot Hack, which is being used in a quirky Hollywood film soon to be released.

 

 Other cars that stirred my nostalgia

  

I also have a passion for hood ornaments

   
Above: Pontiac and Buick - below: Rolls Royce and Jaguar 

NO, this is not a railroad car - it is a delux R.V.

The RV’s on display were behemoth… larger than a freight car, costlier than an airplane.

 

By early afternoon Chris and I managed to tour two pavilions and five open-air tents jam-packed with cars and people. As usual, my little electric scooter served me well… until it ran out of juice!  Only with much coaxing, did I manage to ooze it along to the entrance gate where Chris rescued me with my Toyota Sienna Minivan.

 

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This story is not complete without telling you about my friend Lance’s extreme hobby.

 

How many boys have dreamed of building their own car?… yes, some of you may have built go-carts when you were growing up, or modified an old jalopy into a Hot-rod. But how many of you have fulfilled your dream of building a sexy car from the ground-up… or taking the hottest stock car and restyling it into your own dream machine?

 

My friend Lance is one of those guys… One of Lance’s boyhood dreams was to build racing cars… twenty- odd years ago he started to pursue that dream… He has transformed four stock cars into sexy un-recognizable custom machines. An Audi A6, a Lexus SC430, a Pontiac G6 Convertible and now a Cadillac CTS-V Coupe, He chose the CTS as it was rated one of the best performing American stock cars ever. That wasn’t good enough for Lance. He proceeded to tear it apart. He determined that the CTS had a cumbersome body styling that needed improving. Accordingly, he filtered through fifty design possibilities to come up with his final concept… the 550 HP engine was not powerful enough so he upgraded the engines induction and exhaust systems to achieve 700 HP. …He bought 500+ pounds of Chavant automotive styling clay and hired William von Medicus, a body-shop “artist” and set him up in his garage to strip the Caddy… This was started in September of 2013 and is still a work-in-progress. It will probably take another six months to put the car on the road.

  

This past winter, I had the opportunity to visit Lance and see the operation in person. The body was unrecognizable. When completed, the interior will be finished in the finest Italian Leather by John Caravaggio… Lance is never happy until these cars are his own unrecognizable concoction. To date he has one of these road-wonders whizzing about in California, one in Miami, and one that is mesmerizing the jet set in the south of France… Lance, where will you launch this one?

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reminiscences of My Life in 2013

Christmas Reminiscences

Copyright Vladimir Kagan, December 26, 2013

 

 Night sailing in July 2013

 

The Christmas Holidays are a perfect time to count your blessings and reflect on life. 

 

I am not superstitious nor do I believe in Ouija boards, fortunetellers or soothsayers… I do talk to myself, alone in bed, “Get your act together – enjoy what life has to give you – it is limited in time…” I reminisce on my fifty-four years of marital bliss. Erica was the major player in this saga. Now she appears less frequently in my dreams - her communications are imagined whispers. “Carry on; I’d love to help you – but you are on your own. I left you unexpectedly – try to be happy…”

 

Happiness was a shared thing. Two years of solitude is not long but at my age it is a lifetime.

 

Winter is a quiet season; one waits patiently for signs of spring - spring is the time of awakening. Like the flowers that burst from their leafy cocoons; the crocuses that push their green heads out of the earth and explode into delicate purple and yellow flowers. The days grow longer; nights are filled with the pungent scent of the land. Thoughts can once again turn to love:  love of nature, love of beauty, love of life – to enjoy the blessing of living. (Winter eludes us here in balmy Palm Beach… it’s spring every day!)

 

Friends are a blessing; close friends are even more so… I have always loved people, worshipped beauty: in nature, in art in my surroundings. Erica shared this love with me and now I must find it on my own. I find it in the kindness and affection of my many friends. I am a flirt. I enjoy a bear hug, kisses galore, and a snuggle. I love the music that my Gypsy band provided all summer. I loved the happy people I met: young and old – I could dance into the wee hours and party the rest of the night. – I skippered my sailboat and raced it weekly with my wonderful crew…

 

Life continues in its droll way… I’m looking forward to many happy adventures in 2014….

 

A small picture album of good years past... 

The family circa 1970

Erica in the dunes

Erica hitching a ride on my electric scooter

++++++++

 

...and now two years after her passing, my life goes on.

My children, Jessica, Vanessa and Illya at my birthday party

playing accordion with granddaughters Gigi, Sophia and Daughter Vanessa cheering me on!

Coq au Vin - The Gypsy Band that kept me dancing all summer

 

and the hugs that kept me entertained all year

  

 

Exchanging memories with an old friend in Woodstock - Manuel Bromberg, 96 years old and going strong

 

And finally the joy of sailing my boat!

  
  

racing toward the mark on a windy day  

+++++

The pleasure of sailing Day and Night

 

and finally, I wish you all a Happy and healthy New Year

 

 

 

 

 

Reminiscences of a fun-filled fall weekend

Fall in Nantucket

Copyright Vladimir Kagan November 25, 2013

 

It is only four days to Thanksgiving and here I am reminiscing about a weekend over a month ago. Why? Because it was lots of fun and full of interesting activity… and most of you weren’t there!

 

Remember Columbus Day? It’s always a great Holiday for store sales – or - A weekend in the country with the kids - or - Soccer and Lacrosse matches to keep parents from going for that weekend in the country. For me it was Nantucket.

 

 

My weekend started in New York on Thursday with an invitation to the final performance of the original Coc au Vin band, with Ingrid Feeney, the band’s indispensable vocalist, playing hooky from her Master’s studies in Anthropology at the University of Chicago. Joanna Hay, my favorite violinist, took time-off from recording the oral history of Kentucky Bourbon. The four other members: Caleb Cressman, Andy Harris, Pete Arsenault and Lucy VanArsdale arrived complete with her bass fiddle in a three-car caravan from Nantucket. Ethan Philbrick, the concert cellist, now studying in New York at NYU, joined the band, as did Joanna’s nephew, Ben Thornewill, who is a promising rock star and leader of a band called “Jukebox The Ghost”. Thornewill improvised the gypsy tunes with a distinct Jazz flavor on the Grand piano… Fans came from everywhere … Asa Jean had just flown in from Italy in time for the concert… he got the place rocking by encouraging everyone to dance … It was a fun start of a lively weekend.   

   

My adorable traveling companions on my flight to Nantucket

 

I lucked out hitching a ride to Nantucket in a friend’s plane… It was a perfect afternoon to escape New York, bypassing all the stifling weekend traffic. The plane is a sexy twin engine Cessna normally, quiet and dignified with passenger’s noses buried in their newspaper or briefcase files. Not this time! It was a kiddies outing with more children than adults. 40-minutes later we arrived on our far-away Island to a glorious sunset.

 

The glorious sunset as seen from the airplane just before we slipped under the clouds

Scalloping is Nantucket’s favorite fall sport. The season starts October 1^st, but gets frenetic over the Columbus Day weekend. Saturday morning was blustery with winds gusting over 25 m.p.h. Only the foolhardiest of souls ventured out to muck about in frothy chilly waters, spending hours in their waterlogged waders as they became flooded by the onrushing waves. (Age had its advantage and I was spared going overboard)… my mission was to monitor the anchor and keep the boat from dragging over the seaweed bottom. For those that don’t rake for scallops it is mandatory to partake in opening them. The process is called shucking, a ritual, best done in the backyard as it is messy and slimy. It is also time consuming and best accompanied with a glass of beer, wine or better still, a slug of whiskey. (One of our fellow scallopers took a short cut and paid the local fishmonger to do the task for him. That is cheating!) If you scallop you must experience shucking. This year, I managed to escape the shucking, as I had to prepare dinner for 21 guests. My specialty is Ceviche and Cesar Salad. (Without boasting, I make the best of both… Another time I may share the recipes). It was a contest between my Ceviche and my daughter Vanessa’s outstanding pasta (made with the freshest scallops money can’t buy.)

 

heading out to the flats off Tuckernuck Island

 

The kids getting ready for a joy ride out to the scallpop fields

 

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The boys suiting up in wetsuits to dive for the scallops



Getting ready for the big "dig" - These photos were taken in calmer waters from an earlier date  

...and this is what the "hunt" is all about! Nantucket Bay Scallops

 ...followed by the messy task of shucking

Finally the reward: tasting one of my ceviche delicacies

 

Scalloping is not Nantucket’s only Columbus Day “sport”. There were numerous other events to lure the tourists. High on the calendar was the Cranberry Festival, an afternoon concocted around the harvesting of these succulent berries.  When the weather is nice, it is fun for all the family; games, hayrides, sheep sheering, hot dogs, and a tent filled with tables offering everything and anything made with cranberries. Cranberries are an integral part of Nantucket’s agriculture. Nantucket boasts the largest contiguous Bogs in the USA. Cranberry harvesting is a treat to watch and seldom seen by the public. The ritual starts with bees pollinating the flowers in the spring, (hence the honey on sale in the tent). After weeding the bogs all summer, when the berries are ripe the bogs are flooded with water to harvest them with a thrasher. Millions of berries float to the top and then corralled and sucked up with giant vacuums into waiting trucks to be transported to the Cape for processing. The flooded “ponds” turn crimson red and are a spectacular sight to see… it is an irresistible subject for artists and photographers. I love doing this event every year.

   
The Cranberry Festival

Sunday turned out to be another fine fall day. The not-to-miss event of the day was the Demolition Derby. You can’t believe how many real and would be rednecks we have on the island. (I was surprised to see so many of my friends.) A thousand spectators watched the screeching and banging from behind the safety of a chain fence as the cars kicked up dust and dirt with their spinning tires. Participants take great pride in decorating their wrecks with funny epitaphs or the names of local sponsors; all glass is removed from windows and replaces with chicken wire… only an infinitesimal amount of gasoline is in each gas tank and fires are not a usual risk. To heighten the excitement, huge billows of steam pour out of the radiators, as they are smashed in this adult form of carnival “Bumper Cars”. Each round takes less than five minutes but much longer to clean up. This year there were 50 cars entered with 7 heats for the day. I loved to watch the dexterity of the Bulldozer operators as they clear the wrecks between each heat. There were food and chowder stands to keep us warm in the chilly afternoon.

A successful driver leaving his wreck behind - followed by an ever vigilant fire fighter - just in case!

 

At the end of the day the "grave yard" after the demolition

 

If watching car wrecking wasn’t on your agenda, there was a little publicized show called Capoeira, a Brazilian dance and marshal arts performance at the local high school auditorium. The origin of Capoeira came from African slaves, who, chained and shackled, invented this aggressive tactic, disguised as a dance to trick their Portuguese overseers into believing it to be a benign event. 

 

 

An air-borne dancer - the action is so swift that he is appearing only as a swish

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The children parading hand in hand with their adult partners

A brave youngster challenging his grown-up partner

Nantucket has a sizable transplanted Brazilian colony, mostly working in gardening, housekeeping and construction. Under normal circumstances, you might occasionally meet one in the local Stop & Shop; otherwise they tend to be invisible. This performance was a surprising eye-opener. It gave a new dimension to these talented people and their acrobatic dance. The stage was filled with dozens of white costumed performers; stave carrying singers, string instruments and bongo drummers. Capoeira is a performance sometimes in slow motion, instantly becoming lightning quick with dancers doing gymnastic leaps tumble, flip, kick and pirouette while ducking under their opponents. It is a dance with rhythmic flow of motion; there is hardly ever a bodily contact. Most enchanting was the participation of little children, aged four, five, and upward, from the local elementary school, interacting with these giant high performance “warriors” in this gentle dance. As in Judo, performers are rated with colored belts that denote their lever of expertise. (See link below to what a video of this great dance)

 

Finally, it was the closing ceremony for our yacht club, with the lowering of the burgee as flag officers stood in silent observance while a bugler played taps.

 
Closing cerimony at the Nantucket Yacht Club

We could not have crammed more activities into this three-day Holiday, but it turns out that we missed the half-Marathon and numerous other sporting events…. By Tuesday morning, with the mass-exodus of visitors, Nantucket slipped back into its fall slumber….

 

Our beautiful Boat Basin after the crowds have left

 

Link to Capoeira Dance:

file://localhost/Users/vladimir/Desktop/BLOGS%20NEW%20MATERIAL/COLUMBUS%20DAY%20BLOG/Capoeira%20-%20Brazilian%20Dance,%20Music,%20&%20Martial%20Arts%20-%20YouTube.webarchive