Gronk

From time to time Gronk communicates via post card. Sorry to hear about Jeb!

Norman J. Quinn, Correspondent

Norman has been sending me letters, cards, tapes, bottles of Scotch, and now emails since 1972 when he went off to Saipan in the Peace Corps. Here is an early card from 1973. I think he took the picture on a remote Micronesian island. This is not the woman he married.

Back to Bombay

Well, things are heating up in Bombay. Markets are up, the legacy issues at BSE are being dealt with and they are ready to talk. FTSE may be "late" but we have the brand and reputation to draw in the BSE and put out some decent indices for the Indian market. Our key aide in doing so will be Ganesh!

Donald clearly has some issues with his Blackberry. It kept him occupied trying to get GPRS to connect during our visit.

Ha! Now he can suffer the inequities of FTSE IT!

It was nice, however, having Valentine's Day mocktails and dinner with him at the Taj Mahal Palace Hotel next to the Gate of India.......

Donald in fine form

Donald didn't get his picture taken with the girls in Hong Kong in January, so he needed to ham it up at his local restaurant on Saturday night. The Brazilian lady is the wife of the English bloke who turned a "local" pub into a "restaurant"! It shook up the local pub goers, but the place is doing well off the back of commuters who want to have a nice place to dine on the weekend. Food was good. But I was feeling the effects of lunch and knowing I had to be in a taxi at 7 am. Besides, it was the countryside..... Still, we had a full moon.

Must go back again in more temperate weather and show Donald how to use his BBQ.

London Lunch with the Hopes

After a week in Canary Wharf it was good to get back into the West End and see some friends. As is my custom on Saturday mornings in London, I walked around Piccadilly buying socks, tea, books, CDs and other mind fodder. I ran into Martin Taylor who was on the Gilt desk at Grieveson, Grant and Company when I joined in 1982. He is now marketing futures trading with HSBC and wanted to know if FTSE would be able to work with him on developing his business. No problem!

When we finished our coffee at Starbucks I ran through the rest of my route, getting tea at Whittards, a Derek and Clive CD at Tower Records, some T shirts for Anton and Thor across the street from Eros and a book on the Raj at Hatchards. Then into a taxi and off to the Hope's for lunch. We had a bottle of champagne while we caught up on business, then we marched off to Kensington Place for a lunch of some lovely scallops, sausages and a red from the local wine shop. A thoroughly enjoyable London Saturday sequence followed by a mad dash out to Cambridge to have dinner with my boss and meet his wife.

Sunday had me in a car at 7 am on my way to Heathrow, to catch the BA flight to Bombay.

The Red Hat Thingee

My mother got involved with the Red Hatters a few years ago. She ran her own chapter for awhile, but got tired of being the leader as she started to wind down her commitments. Still, she loves dressing up in the purple dress and putting on the red had that is the signature of this group of mothers, grandmothers, great grandmothers and any other woman over 50 who needs the gaggle once a month.

A week in Canary Wharf

I visit the FTSE head office in Canary Wharf in February for the first time. The executive p.a. put me in the worst hotel I have stayed in in a long time. The pool was the size of a Jacuzzi and there was no Internet access in the rooms. I called it the Best of Britian for its chintz and sleaze. The hotel art was even rude and low grade.

This shot is of a neo classic statue in front of our office building. The statues around Canary Wharf look like Etruscan mummies, with body parts strewn in front of building entrances.

It's eerie around there at night. All the financial professionals have left and it is quiet and void of much other intercourse other than the Thames.