Watch Me Take The Bar

You Know That Mitch Albom Guy? He Occasionally Writes About Sports, Too!

2006-11-17T07:19:00.000-05:00

I'm sure you've read Tuesdays with Morrie, the touching/tearjerking/wonderful book on life and death by Mitch Albom, who we are told is a sportswriter for the Detroit Free Press.

As it happens, this is the first time I've actually seen sportswriting by Mitch Albom.

The title of the piece? "Carr Has Proved Self, Win Or Lose Saturday." ("Saturday" refers to the football game to be played in Columbus tomorrow, featuring the undefeated Ohio State Buckeyes against the about-to-not-be-undefeated Michigan Wolverines, which will start in 28 hours and 11 minutes, for those of you who have been living in a cave for the past week.)

Now, this article appeals to me on levels beyond, "Wow! Mitch Albom is writing about sports! Neat!"

Far better than this, it is appparent that those living up north are already trying to soften the disappointment of LOSING.

For that, my friends, is what is about to happen. Rest assured, the Wolverines are going to LOSE.

How come?

There are about ten good reasons:

1. Jim Tressel

2. Jim Tressel: We used to have this coach named John Cooper. From 1988 to 2000, he led the Buckeyes, if that's not too strong a term. Actually, I rather liked The Coop, and he was a pretty good coach for all but the last regular-season game of the year. The problem was, if you're Ohio State, your last regular-season game of the year will always be Michigan, and only winning against Michigan twice (1994 and 1998) out of twelve years (OK, he also managed to get us to a rather disappointing tie in 1992) is simply unacceptable.

Along came Jim Tressel. So much for that Wolverine boondoggle. 4-1 against That Team Up North. A man who coaches his teams to win in big games. He's quite impressive.

3. This Game's in Columbus: Columbus has three claims to fame. It's the home of the state capital; the Columbus Bluejackets; and the Ohio State Buckeye. Ted Strickland doesn't get sworn in until January and the Bluejackets suck, leaving Columbus fans with (as usual) one thing to do, and that is go apeshit over the Buckeyes.

And apeshit they have gone. While in Columbus for a conference this week, the evening news led with the story of The Game. After four minutes of that, they turned to the less-important story that there was a murderer on the loose in Columbus.

This is, without a doubt, the heart of Buckeye Nation. And Buckeye Nation is hungry, nay, ravenous for Wolverine meat.

When Chad Henne wanders into the Horseshoe, he will feel like his Aunt Penny who said the sky was falling. It will be -- with scarlet and gray, cheering the Buckeyes on to another victory.

4. It's Like A Bowl Game: And we all know what Jim Tressel's teams do with bowl games. They go out, keep it interesting for a bit, and then win.

5. It's Like A Bowl Game: And we all know what Lloyd Carr's teams do with bowl games. They go out, keep it interesting as we wonder how they'll manage to lose, and then answer the question.

(Honestly. Last year, I was falling asleep and noticed Michigan was leading in the mid-fourth quarter in a bowl game. I figured I'd flip over and see how they'd manage to lose it and -- guess what! -- they did.)

At this very moment, Lloyd Carr is having his regular breakfast of Cheerios on a plate.

If they were in a bowl, he'd lose them.

6. The Buckeyes Are Just Better. No, Really: No one's beeen too terribly surprised at Ohio State's run this year. After we hornswoggled the Longhorns and hacked the Hawkeyes, it was pretty clear we were The Best Damn Team In The Land.

Michigan, on the other hand? No one picked them to be 11-zip. They have had the great surprise of winning every game, which they were not expected to do.

Indeed, for the Wolverines, this season has been an unexpected joy. They should be quite proud of all they've accomplished, and stop the highlight film with last week's game. There's no shame in finishing 11-2. (I've added an extra loss to account for their inevitable bowl trip.)

7. We. Are Buckeyes. We Are Killer Nuts. (Not Rodents): Actual conversation:

ME: Hey, at least my mascot isn't a rodent.

PLEASANT REASON (sigh, a Michigan fan, alas): Our mascot isn't a rodent. Wolverine's aren't rodents.

ME: Really? What are they?

PLEASANT REASON (sound of typing on the other end of the phone): Oh. (Long uncomfortable silence.)

'Bout that.

The Wolverines are about to find those killer nuts dropped on their heads, and will need to sprout legs and run to Ann Arbor just as fast as they can.

8. Troy Smith

9. Troy Smith

10. Troy Smith: Our QB is awesome on an ordinary day. Put him up against Michigan, and he's phenomenal.

Ohio State wins this one, folks. The Wolverines have had a great season, and should feel no shame in losing.

Other than the fact they're going to lose.

Herbert Hoover Is Dead, But His Relatives Are Still Pushing Republicans On Us

2006-11-09T10:46:00.000-05:00

*a few moments ago, in my office*

[phone ringing]

ME: Michael Bassett.

VOICE: Hello, Mr. Bassett? My name is Linda Hoover. I'm calling on behalf of Congressman Tom Reynolds and the National Republican Congressional Campaign Committee.

ME [thinking to myself]: Gosh. This week just couldn't get sweeter. First, I watch the Republicans get thumped on national TV for two straight days; and now they're calling my office to check up on my well-being. And they've still got Hoovers working for them? Isn't that how we got into the 1930s?

LINDA HOOVER [continuing]: We've selected you to receive a Leadership Award. We'd like to invite you to Washington, DC to our annual Presidential Dinner, and to participate in our Business Advisory Council.

ME: Really.

LINDA HOOVER: [stopping me before I can get to my next statement]: Do you have a minute to hear a taped message from Congressman Reynolds?

ME: [I'm not doing busy at the moment, and it's their nickel.] Sure. [It'll be interesting to hear how they're spinning this.]

TAPED VOICE OF CONGRESSMAN MEL REYNOLDS: This is Congressman Mel Reynolds, Chairman of the National Republican Campaign Committee. I've called you because you are a business leader and a risk-taker.

ME: [Yes, it's a risk trying to operate a business while W's in the White House. Then, he knows about risk. He tried to find oil in Texas and failed.]

TAPED VOICE OF CONGRESSMAN MEL REYNOLDS: We know you want to support Republicans who will support lower taxes and the President's small business plan.

ME: [Tom, you've obviously overestimated my tax bracket. No way am I getting any tax cuts from this White House this year.]

TAPED VOICE OF CONGRESSMAN MEL REYNOLDS: Please stay on the line so we can invite you to join our panel.

WOMAN: Hello?

ME: Linda?

WOMAN: Mr. Bassett?

ME: Yes. Linda?

WOMAN: No, this is [Someone Else.]

ME: [Well, they got rid of Linda Hoover. Only seventy-four years after the rest of us got rid of Herbert. They're rather quick on the uptake, those Republicans.]

WOMAN: We'd like you to join the Business Advisory Council. You'll receive confidential surveys and an opportunity to have your picture taken with the President to hang on your office wall.

ME: [But I want my clients to like me.]

WOMAN: You'll also serve as an honorary finance chairman for the state of Ohio.

ME: [Things are getting really desperate in Ohio if they need me to do things to help the Republican party.]

WOMAN: Of course, the big event of the year is the Presidential Dinner, which is dinner with the President.

ME: [But I like to be able to eat.]

WOMAN: And you will receive a leadership award.

ME: [Ready to reel her in.] Yes. Tell me more about that. Would that be for my service as Chairman of the Ottawa County Democratic Central Committee?

WOMAN: [Long pause.] Uhhhhhh ---

ME: And as to making any contribution to you, first, I'm not inclined to, I'm happy with what happened Tuesday, and second, it's a bit tough right now because all my clients are unemployed so they have trouble paying their bills, but that should get better when the Democrats take over Congress. So no, I think I'll pass on your leadership award.

WOMAN: Well, I respect your opinion. Have a good day.

ME: [snarky laugh] I'm already having a great week!

Two Notes of Note

2006-10-27T07:09:00.000-04:00

OK, OK, it's been a while. Don't get too excited, there were just two items I needed to comment on.

The first is this item in today's Washington Times. Bill Kristol has predicted that Donald Rumsfeld will be out as Secretary of Defense after the November 7 election.

Rumsfeld's comment: "The fellow said the same damn thing in April of 2001. He has been on that shtick, and people keep repeating it and repeating it. I don't know why they listen to him. He's been wrong so many times. There ought to be some accountability."

So, let me get this straight: If you make a prediction (like, I don't know, we will be greeted in Iraq as liberators) and then it doesn't come true (things in Iraq go south), we should have accountability? Maybe someone should lose their jobs?

Gosh. What a concept.

***

Tigers fans, take heart. You may be happier that you lost Game 4 last night.

Whenever the Tigers and Cardinals have played in the World Series, the Cards have won Game 1. Game 2 goes to the Tigers, and Game 3 to the Cardinals.

Who wins? The determining factor appears to be who wins Game 4. It's a bit of a poison pill.

When the Tigers have won it, the Cardinals have gone on to win the Series in 7.

Ditto for when the Cardinals win it.

Here's hoping that one stays true.

If You've Never Heard of Ann Richards

2006-09-14T07:50:00.000-04:00

You owe it to yourself to click here, and ether read or better yet listen to the mp3 of her 1988 keynote at the Democratic National Convention in Atlanta.

She was a great American politician, rhetor, and lady. I remember watching her and Clayton Williams go at it when she ran for governor of Texas in 1990. (Yes, I was in fifth grade at the time and keeping track of the Texas governor's race. I was a special kind of kid.)

A few years ago, when I was a delegate to the Democratic National Convention in Boston, I splurged and spent $125 to go to an EMILY'S LIST luncheon featuring Ann Richards and other Democratic women. She was, far and away, the best speaker there.

RIP, Governor.

Dear Fellow Attorney

2006-09-12T10:41:00.000-04:00

You know, I don't blog about my job. First of all, there's that whole confidentiality and attorney-client privilege thing that makes it rather difficult, and while I've grown to love this blog, even though I do neglect it with alarming frequency, but I value my law license even more.
What I'll discuss is not, of course, covered by confidentiality or attorney-client privilege, although I still feel somewhat reluctant. You know, there's supposedly this "brotherhood of attorneys" (the reasons for why that gender is chosen may be clearer after reading this post), and we try not to make each other's lives more difficult than necessary in zealously representing our clients.

Neither of these protections, sir, apply to you. First of all, we were not on the same case; indeed, you did not even deign to speak to me or introduce yourself. Your comments were made sitting in a public hallway; you did not lower your voice; you did not seem embarassed that I was two seats over from you and another attorney was another two seats over from you. In fact, we were in the hallway of the courthouse, and most anyone could have wandered in upon your conversation.

I should mention that I wondered if you would make it to te point where you would sit down. You are not, sir, an attractive man. You are overweight, with jowels to spare and a pockmarked face. There are several bartender's children who are probably in med school due to you.

I had this feeling I wasn't going to like you when you started commenting to your client how much you objected to waiting for the prosecutor to appear to pretry your case. With as old as you are, you've clearly been around, and the prosecutor usually runs into a backlog. You're getting paid obscene amounts of money for hanging out to deal with parking tickets or other such kerfuffle, so just deal with it.

I guess it's a good thing you were so pressed for time, insofar as you compared how some attorneys ended up lining up like there was an open bar. This led to your musing that, "We went to a wedding, where they had an open bar, and my...my...my --"

Whereupon, your client helpfully supplied, "Your significant other?"

Which, surprisingly, you did not go along with; you said it wasn't to that stage yet. After all, "the last one still hasn't moved out." But, that's fine, relationships go through stages, and perhaps you've found someone nice in the 52-to-65 range to accompany you to events while the last one packs her boxes.

Apparently, Last One called you last night, crying that you didn't love her anymore. (You confirmed this was true.) She was crying because you were going to make her kids homeless. This did not seem to bother you.

Anyway, your Signif -- oops, girlfriend -- and you went to a wedding where they had an open bar, and New One apparently enjoyed partaking of this, to the tune of five doubles, and was smashed by the end of the night.

At which point, I was tempted to lean over and tell you that the Pleasant Reason and I recently went to a wedding where they had an open bar, and the Pleasant Reason (who is, I assure you, a very Significant Other), did not get smashed, and we had an absolutely wonderful time talking all night and on the way home, as well.

I'm rather pleased I didn't, however, because you provided more than enough detail about what happened after the wedding. While your girlfriend was apparently drunk after five doubles, she still "put on a porno and wanted to do everything in it." This was, apparently, asking a little too much of you; after all, you're nearing sixty years old.

Now, really. Is that the sort of thing you find you must discuss in an open hallway? Where anyone can hear it? Apparently, your client didn't mind this detail, and he in fact asked, "Her name's not Staci, is it?"

As a matter of fact, it wasn't. In fact, this led to your commenting that you "weren't sure if you'd ever lived with a Staci before. Let me think. This'll take a while. [Pause] No, I haven't lived with a Staci. I've lived with five Teresas, though."

(If there are any statistically minded readers out there who'd like to work out how many women one has to live with to live with five Teresas, I'd be fascinated to know.)

This led to something of a detour into what Teresas like to be called (Terri; Traci; Reesa.) Apparently, the one who went by Reesa was a lot of fun; although she'd never have kids, you all tried. (Your words, not mine.)

But, then we went back to the Not Significant Other. You suggested that she was a bit more, shall we say, ambitious than you, since she is, after all, twenty-eight years old and you'll be sixty next Monday. She apparently was living in South Carolina, but called you to come pick her up, so you took two and a half days off, the longest vacation you've taken since 1967. (Which suggests you're either a workaholic or no one wants to go on vacation with you. I know which horse I'm betting on.) But, really, it ended up being four days together, since you did get that weekend in there. (And there are some who say romance is dead!)

You then mused that relationships don't get better and -- and this was where I had a major problem with you, really -- then commented that "they never should have passed that amendment back in the 1920s." I knew what you were talking about, but your client apparently didn't, leading him to force you to illuminate that it was the one that gave women the right to vote.

That was classy. I mean, really. Perhaps I could buy you a big flashing sign to wear around yuor neck, saying, I AM A SEXIST, MALE CHAUVINIST PIG. Besides saving people a valuable three minutes of talking to you before discovering this, it would also help them have something to look at other than your face.

And I'm sorry to keep going back to your appearance, but you were, in a word, ugly. And that wouldn't be so bad, if you didn't seem to need to trumpet the fact that you are now dating someone less than half your age.

You know why she's dating you, and, let me assure you, none of us are fooled, either. While she at first sounded a bit of a lush for drinking five doubles at that wedding, thanks to your graphic description of what transpired thereafter, I think she can plead the defense of necessity. No one believes she's dating you for your chiseled good looks, and she sure as hell ain't with you for your personality.

A few years ago, there was a movie where Robert Redford offered a woman a million dollars to sleep with him. It was called "Indecent Proposal." Truly, the film would have been more aptly titled had its star not been one of the well-known hunks of our time, but rather an unattractive, ill-mannered, chavinistic pig like you. I really don't care why she's dating you, although, if you can't figure it out, please do note that if she wakes you up by saying "BOO!" every morning, it's not a good sign; but I do care about your degrading and despicable treatment of women. The fact you harbor those beliefs is appalling; the fact that you, a member of the bar, feel comfortable making your thoughts on this subject known in such a public forum speaks poorly for you and worse for a society that tolerates it.

In closing, may I just say that, if your sweetie is buying the cigarettes you went outside to smoke for you, it'll be another hint she considers you a significant payday; and I am probably only surpassed by her in the sincere hope that one day your most prized posession turns black and falls off.

Yours very truly, a person who is sorry you make both the legal profession and the male species look bad.

As we start the college football season off...

2006-09-01T14:02:00.000-04:00

...it's worth noting who's picked to be #1 in the polls.

Damn right.

(And note that's for the whole country. Not just the West. Not that we're eligible for it, seeing as how we aren't IN the west. Just thought I'd point that out, since that concept eludes certain schools in states to the north of us, going so far as to loudly proclaim this in their fight song.)

Board Member Bassett, Dissenting

2006-08-21T09:03:00.000-04:00

Tomorrow, the school board on which I sit will vote on a policy to subject anyone who is involved in an extracurricular activity or drives to school to random drug tests. It is a proposal I will vote against.

I have wrestled with this issue more than almost any other issue I've dealt with in the two and a half years I've been on the school board. Drugs are a scourge, and they affect our entire country. They can end careers, rip apart relationships, bring lives to an untimely end. To believe Port Clinton is any different is folly.

You can't just test any student you want, according to the law; however, those who are involved in extracurriculars are subject to testing, because extracurriculars are a privilege, as is driving.

My first concern, and the predominant one in my decision to vote against this, is this: Extracurriculars are opportunities to enhance student life. They are to offer positive outlets for a student's energy.

Who needs this more than a student who may feel there is some sort of gap in their life? A gap they might choose to fill with substance abuse? Every minute that student is in at French Club, in a play, or playing basketball is a minute they aren't hanging out with a crowd that might influence them in the wrong direction. Every minute in an extracurricular is an opportunity for a positive experience with the school; an opportunity to realize there are other things to life than getting high.

A person who is on the fence is who I fear will be hurt by this policy. A person who is a recreational drug user, but also has some interest in a play or going out for baseball, may decide it's not worth sacrificing an activity they are already into for one they think they might enjoy. And that, I fear, is a tragedy.

I am also concerned about the rationale for this program. In the process of determining whether or not to undertake this policy (and it should be noted that all of the Board members have worked very hard to come to this decision), we were presented with stark evidence of the drug problem. We were not, however, presented with reasons why this would help eradicate it.

At one of our meetings, a police officer I have worked with over the years and have great respect for, spoke. This guy is on the front lines of the war on drugs. I looked forward to his presentation explaining why drug testing would solve the problem. Rather, it was an emotional appeal directed to getting us to understand there is a problem.

I understand that. I think everyone understands that. Kids we see as "bad kids," kids we see as "good kids," all kids understand there's a drug problem.

Unfortunately, he did not provide me with any evidence this would help. I was unconvinced by the testing vendors, as well, who suggested that drug testing would help.

There are compelling arguments in favor of random drug testing. Those who are in extracurriculars and don't use drugs have the right to expect that to be a drug-free zone. There is student safety involved. If it helps a student get off drugs, the program will demonstrate worth.

But I remain convinced that the cost of removing an alternative to other choices for students is greater than the potential of detection and possibly -- possibly -- intervention. It is for that reason I will vote no tomorrow.

The best writing I've seen on domestic abuse in a while

2006-08-01T07:48:00.000-04:00

is this article.

You may recall a fellow named Darren Mack recently tried to kill a judge and successfully killed his wife. Mack, who was a successful Las Vegas jeweler, was embroiled in a divorce at the time.

The authors here point out that, contrary to those who say there were no warning signs Mack would implode, there were actually several, all of which came under the rubric of domestic violence. One of the many excellent passages in the article is this: "Domestic violence murders are not typically crimes of sudden, unanticipated violence where an abuser 'just snaps,' but instead are often the culmination of a predictable pattern of escalating abuse and violence."

The article has so many good points, and is written so compactly, I won't even try to restate them, as I don't think I'd do them justice. The authors point out that Senate Democratic Leader Harry Reid is seeking a bigger federal push for increased security at courthouses for judges.

It appears it takes this issue affecting a judge for us to understand more security in courthouses is also needed for victims. And I don't mean metal detectors, either.

Quote of the Day On Peer Review, Non-Efficacy Of

2006-07-28T14:36:00.000-04:00

Michael: [Makes sound of horror.]

Pleasant Reason: What?

Michael: If you can't get disbarred for this, what can you get disbarred for? The Supreme Court just suspended a guy for two years (with one year stayed) for "delaying filing of joint personal bankruptcy, forging clients' signatures, misrepresenting that no fees had been paid, failing to appear at first meeting of creditors or to communicate with client, making further misrepresentations at bankruptcy hearing and failing to adequately protect clients' interests on withdrawal from bankruptcy." [Mahoning Cty. Bar Assn. v. Olivito, 110 Ohio St.3d 64, 2006-Ohio-3654, no, I don't talk in citations to my grlfriend.]

Pleasant Reason [not even stopping to wonder WHY she chose to date a lawyer]: Isn't that, like, not doing his whole job as a lawyer?

To Those Of You

2006-07-22T14:17:00.000-04:00

studying

freaking out

sincerely believing there is no way you know or ever could know enough to pass the bar which starts in less than 72 hours

realizing you have only a few days left until you take

The Test

Please know:

I am thinking of you

I feel for you

You can do it

You know more than you give yourself credit for

One year from now, you will be a lawyer.

You will have a caseload. You will have clients. You will have billable hours.

I was once as you are now. There is light at the end of the tunnel. You may even find yourself next year at an art fair with a Pleasant Reason to be there.

Hang in. Excelsior.

(PS: I heard this year they're increasing the MBE to 250 ques -- no, no, just kidding. Just kidding. Breathe, people. Breathe.)

Cynical Poem

2006-07-17T20:58:00.000-04:00

A woman calls, a client
She has the money to start a divorce.

She's begged, she's borrowed from her family.
A bank.
A way to a new life.

She writes a check,
Feeling confident this is best for her children.
Get them away from the abuser.
The courts will know he's an abuser.

We should make women sign
An informed-consent form in this country
Before trying to get out of an abusive relationship
Leaving their abuser, I mean.

"WARNING!" it should say.
"The courts won't help, only process cases
on their very best day."

It seems so simple.
Keep abusers away from kids.

Trust me. It's not.

I talked with a fellow attorney the other day.
Mentioned CPOs
(Those things you get when some nasty bastard won't leave you alone.
I do a lot of those.)
He won't help people get CPOs.

Like it's a bad thing.
This guy defends drug dealers.
Rapists.
Baseball-bat wielding thugs.

But he doesn't help people get CPOs.

(I guess they're only for lowlifes.)

I suspect it's 'cause you get angry abusive people in your life.
The people you've obtained it against are mad at you.
The people you've obtained it for are scared.
Who wants that in their comfortably carpeted law office?

Who wants that in their LIFE?

Yeah, we just abandon them
It's just a nasty divorce.

They come into my office.
They say the same things.
They wonder why the court can't get it.
They feel like they were victimized again.

And they have kids, dealing with the trauma.
What looks to be just petty drama.

I say it before, I say it now, I'll say it again:
We can deal with this problem now
Or we can deal with this later
But we'll deal with it, all of us, somehow.

***

(PS, please note: I am actually in a much sunnier mood than this poem would indicate and life has been pretty daggone awesome. I love my job, and feel like I make a difference. It's just, the madness of the whole system gets, well, maddening sometimes.)

My Nominee for the Summer Blockbuster

2006-07-10T08:27:00.000-04:00

Are YOU a person who might only see one movie this summer?

Do YOU like to laugh?

When watching people who obsessively compete over a rather picayune pastime, will YOU laugh just a little bit nervously because you can identify with these people and think "I, too, could see that as a competition I would have a good time at"?

Then YOU need to go see Wordplay.

The Pleasant Reason for my frequent trips to Ann Arbor of late is, fortunately, the holder of a degree in English, and as a result has a fascination with words that is probably even more severe than mine. The good news is that this means she not only tolerates, but finds it cool, when I say, "Hey, let's spend an hour and a half of a beautiful Sunday inside watching people work crossword puzzles on a projection screen!" The bad news? Well, my days of winning Scrabble appear to be over.

"Wordplay" features John Stewart, the Indigo Girls, Mike Mussina, and Bill Clinton and Bob Dole talking about the crossword. (Dole is, as ever, self-deprecatingly funny: "The whole [1996] election was a puzzle to me.") But the real stars are the people who actually play to win the annual crossword tournament. (They make a pilgrimage to Stamford, Connecticut, in the winter, to do this. I would make some comment about who the heck goes to Stamford in the witner, but others make pilgrimages to similarly -- actually, probably more -- desolate places in the winter.)

There's the college student who wants to be the youngest to become the crossword champion, the woman who's won it before and been to a bunch of them (I frankly found her a little full of herself), and the guy who always ends up in the top three but never has won. Think of a story about a characters n the sports team merged with a bunch of pocket-protector-nerd types, and you've got "Wordplay."

It's like this. Most of us will never have a chance at winning something like the Super Bowl or the Masters. Some of us never had a chance of being on a wining football team in high school. This lets us think, "Here's something that I could -- could -- be good at." That's "Wordplay."

I highly recommend it.

PS: Insofar as it's a documentary and not made by Al Gore or Michael Moore, you may have difficulty finding it in a theater. You may have to travel to somewhere like Ann Arbor, where bookstores and showing of documentaries are some good reasons - although not nearly qualifying as the Pleasant Reason - to go there. (I just ignore the Wolverine paraphernelia everyone seems to have to fly there.)

PSS: Here's hoping the soundtrack to this movie comes out soon. Some of the songs were pretty entertaining!

Rotten Apple

2006-06-30T07:24:00.000-04:00

Yesterday, I spent considerable amounts of time trying to get a problem fixed which was clearly (a) not my fault, (b) in need of fixing, (c) someone else's job to fix, which duty to fix was admitted by those with the duty to fix. Instead, I ended up feeling frustrated and at wit's end.

And this was AFTER I spent the day in a seminar on how the system treats battered women.

OK. Here's the story. As faithful readers of this Blog know, I am possessed of an iPod, which are those little things you see people carrying around with earbuds sprouting from their ears. A truly marvelous invention, the iPod can be connected in my car, or is portable enough to go, well, anywhere with.

So, all was well in Michaelville, especially when I started driving a borrowed BMW (see this entry), which has a tape deck which easy connectivity to one's iPod.

One day, shortly before Memorial Day, I went to put on a particular song and my iPod froze. The LED backlight remained on, and the song just froze.

No amount of my tears or piety could unfreeze the thing, or turn off the LED backlight for the longest time. I finally did get it to restart (after something like an hour and a half), at which point, it said the battery was extremely low.

So, I brough the iPod home, plugged it into the wall, and started charging it again.

My iPod duly charged, I went outside with it and listened to about twelve songs before it hit the same exact problem. I recharged it, took it out on Memorial Day, and got it to freeze again.

This was unacceptable.

So, I went online. I tried everything suggested online. Clearly, a living, breathing human being was needed.

Having heard other people's horror stories about trying to call in for help with Apple support, I decided I'd rather just visit an Apple store. Unfortunately, there are no Apple stores near this blogger; rather, there is one in Novi, Michigan (two and a half hours north) and one in Columbus, Ohio (two and a half hours south.) I have had the good fortune recently to have a pleasant reason to spend time north of the border anyway, so last Sunday, I traveled to Novi (together with the Pleasant Reason, who lives somewhat south of there.)

OK, so, we got to the Twelve Oaks Mall, and found the Apple store. There, we were met by a tech. I should take a detour here and tell you that none of Apple's employees wear nametags. None. I think this is so you can't hunt them down at their house and drown them out with the silence from your non-functioning iPod.

So, first, John started to try to sell me AppleCare. For only 64 bucks, I could have Apple service my iPod for free. I pointed out that was what my warranty was for, and since I bought it last August, it seemed to me that was their job. John went off the serial number on the back of the iPod, and advised me that indeed, I was correct, my warranty did not expire until August 13, so it was pointless for me to buy AppleCare at this point (although I would need to do so before August 13.)

Good, John. Fix my iPod.

John suggested I do such things as charge the battery (done) and other inanities. I advised him I had done all of the "five R's" that Apple recommends for troubleshooting. Not satisfied by this, he plugged my iPod into a computer there, reset the software, and said I was good to go.

I wasn't inclined to call him a liar, but I did make him play and replay music on the iPod several times. It kept working (although I was hoping it wouldn't, as I really didn't trust him. Both I and the Pleasant Reason agreed later we didn't think he had good intentions.)

But, I now had a functioning iPod again, so off I went.

And, I must tell you, having my iPod back was wonderful. I'd forgotten how much I missed the thing. I listened to it quite a bit; much of the evening on Wednesday. I was listening to it at 5:45 on Thursday morning as I was driving to pick Anonymous up at her home to travel to Columbus for a seminar.

And it froze. (I had previously threatened that if it did this again, I was going to go through the roof of my condo. Insofar as my car is a convertible, this did not seem like much of a threat were I to carry it out now.)

So, Anonymous got in the car. I made her observe that the LED backlight was on, and that it played no music. I prevailed upon her good nature that, after eight hours of sitting in a seminar, she would allow us to go out of our way to stop at the Columbus Apple Store.

So, after the seminar and a meal, we went to Easton Town Center and the Apple Store. We were met by a young man to whom I explained my dilemma. He listened, and asked me to sign in to the Apple Concierge to reserve a time to speak with their techs.

Which seemed like a reasonable request, until I found out the first available time I could speak to the techs was at 8:45, and it was currently 7:00. (Not to mention that we were two and a half hours from home.)

A woman we spoke to at the store was of no help. There was no one talking to the techs now because they were all scheduled for later, so they couldn't help me.

Here came the first guy again. When we explained the dilemma (and the fact that I live a minimum of two and a half hours from any Apple store), he said he'd get one of his friends who was a tech back there to look at it for us.

Yippee! Things were going my way. They took my iPod and walked on back. The tech (who I will refer to as AE2, for Apple Employee 2) came back and talked to me. I explained the story I've now explained to you. I think he disappeared again, and then reemerged.

There was a problem, he said. There was no evidence I'd ever been into Twelve Oaks. Well, actually, it indicated I'd called in on June 25. I hadn't called anyone on June 25, but June 25 WAS the day I'd been into Novi.

I was devastated. John in Novi had violated my trust, and not duly recorded my pilgrimage to Novi, thus, it appeared, consigning me to some corner of Apple Hell. AE2 suggested that they could take my iPod from me, but they would need to test it for four days to make sure I wasn't lying.

"OK," I said. "Can you send the replacement iPod to me when you figure out that I'm not lying?"

"Well, no," AE2 replied. "You'd have to come in and pick it up."

"That's not an option," said Anonymous. "We live two and a half hours away from Novi and three hours from you."

AE2 got this disturbed look on his face. It's the sort of disturbed look one should get when one is not giving good customer service; but I suspect in his case, it was the disturbed look Apple employees get when their mark -- er, customer -- refuses to go quietly.

"Well," he said, "you'll have to send it in then."

"Send it in?" I asked. This sounded like I was going to be spending copious amounts of time at the post office, mailing, receiving, signing for, two-week mail.

No, no, no, AE2 assured me. I would simply go online, complete a quick form, and Apple would overnight me a box. I would drop my iPod in the box and overnight it back to Apple. Everything would be filled out and taken care of. I literally would require the force to lift the iPod and the assistance of gravity to put it in the box.

That sounded decent. So, John hands me a business card with the Apple support website where I go to get the box, to start what he said would be a four-day process.

Anonymous, being a far wiser and less trusting soul than I, suggested I use a computer at the Apple store to go online and get the box ordered, just in case I would have a problem. I was sure I wouldn't -- AE2 wouldn't lie to me -- so I decided to get online.

At that time, AE2 advised me that, if I had any problems, any problems at all, I should find another Apple employee, because he was going to be doing something else in the back room or something.

(I'm not kidding.)

I should have gotten nervous then.

Merrily, I went to the computer and started typing in my name, email address, residence address, and all those other little details they need to send to me. I then typed in my iPod's serial number, whereupon, I was greeted with a screen which read Your iPod's Warranty Has Expired.

Careful readers will recall that my iPod's warranty has definitely NOT expired. This was established conclusively during my trip to Novi. It lasts until August 13.

Of course, AE2 was nowhere to be seen, so we found another Apple employee. I now told him my story, and he offered to take my iPod and go check my warranty against the serial number.

He went to check the serial number. He returned. He advised me that it was clear my warranty wasn't expired, and wouldn't do so until August 4. (Careful readers will note that Novi told me it would be August 13, which is one year after I purchased the iPod. Nonetheless, I'm still under warranty, no matter what the date is.)

Great. Problem solved, right? Well, he seemed to think so. All I needed to do was take my iPod to one of their techs.

I should note two things.

(1) At this point, I started laughing maniacally.

(2) Many of the Apple employees wear shirts that have but a single word on them:

genius

Insofar as the Apple employees began to blend together at this point, I shall just refer to them as the Genius of the Moment. I should also note that I now wonder whether they put "genius" on their shirt because of their mental acuity, or because everyone was calling them "genius" in a sarcastic tone, and they didn't catch the irony.

Once I recovered from my laughing fit and reminded myself there were laws against what I was considering doing to this Genius, I advised him that doing that would simply start the merry-go-round I'd just been on all over again. So, the Genius disappeared, and then reappeared to write a phone number down on my business card I could call to validate my warranty.

Anonymous at that point, in her words, "politely suggested to him that HE make the call."

Looking at us with those big, uncomprehending eyes that are a sign of Genius, and are not unlike those George W. Bush makes just before he has to pronounce a multi-syllabic word, he took my iPod and headed to the front of the store to make this call.

He asked me to stay close, so that I could give the person on the other end of the phone my mailing address.

The only thing that made this experience more bearable was that HE was holding the phone and was on hold. My range of movement was somewhat less limited, and I didn't have to listen to some inane hold message telling me one of Apple's customer service geniuses would be along shortly.

Well, ten minutes went by. Fifteen minutes went by. Genius of the Moment was now squatting, indicating uncomfortableness with standing in the iPod store.

I did not care.

After about twenty minutes, he waved me over to him. His hold time having ended (really, with what Apple pays these Geniuses, was it a good use of their time to have someone spending 20 minutes on the phone holding because they couldn't deal with my problem in one of two stores?), I now had the opportunity to speak to a Phone Genius.

Now, remember, all she was going to do was to verify my warranty and send me a box. She first asked me how I was doing, and I told her. (Reader: guess.) She advised me that, because I was still under warranty, I wouldn't have to pay $49 an hour for the privilege of talking to her. How nice.

So, then, she tells me that they will send me a box, but I will be responsible for postage.

I did not care, at this point, what postage was. It was the principle of the thing. I was incredibly irate. Out of curiosity, I asked what the expense of postage would be. Eh, around $30 to $40.

Similarly feeling furious and frustrated, I decided not to complain and allow my further association with Apple to cost me roughly 10% of the purchase price of my original iPod. She asked for my street address; I gave it. She asked for the name on my credit card. I gave it.

I then waited anxiously for the opportunity to provide my credit card number to her. Insofar as I was in the middle of a public store with numerous people there, I was thrilled by this opportunity. (By now, of course, the in-person Genius had disappeared.) And waited. And waited. And waited.

"You still there?" I asked.

"Yes," she said, "just getting everything set up." As time moved on (I'd now been there about an hour), I mused to myself that I did not know she had to gas up the plane that was coming to get my iPod.

"Well," she said, "here's the problem. There are two systems here. One shows you're under warranty until August. The other says you're not. And I have to send your iPod out on the one that says you're not under warranty, so you'll have to pay for us to look at your iPod."

I believe I clarified that I was hearing what I was hearing, and that I was not delusional.

Then, through gritted teeth and in a deceptively calm voice, I asked her how much I would pay.

She pleasantly informed me it would cost $265.40.

Now I, Gentle Reader, am a pretty calm-tempered fellow. It takes much to get me to lose my temper.

But, at this point, right there in the middle of the Apple store, I said, in a voice that was louder than I would consider polite for cross-examining any number of recalcitrant witnesses, "$265. Plus $40 for shipping and handling. So, you want me to spend the money it would basically take to purchase a new iPod, WHICH I SUSPECT WAS YOU PEOPLE'S ENTIRE IDEA IN THE BEGINNING."

She said nothing.

I considered my options carefully, slammed down the phone, and stomped out of the Apple store. (Note: I have never slammed a phone down before in my LIFE.) I told Anonymous, who was waiting for me outside, the tale. She suggested I should not use the language I was using in a place where there were so many small children running about. She later indicated she feared I was about to climb a lamppost and yell from the top of my lungs, "Don't buy anything from Apple, kids!"

Here's my problem. I'd really prefer not to patronize a company with such awful customer service. But I'm hooked on my iPod, and have not been told there is a comparable machine out there.

So my suggestion is this: If you plan to purchase an iPod, think of it as a health club membership. You're likely going to pay a set amount every year to use it. Because they are NOT going to repair it.

Not The Brightest Hunger Striker In The World, That Saddam

2006-06-23T08:48:00.000-04:00

Well, isn't this special: Saddam Hussein has ended his hunger strike, which apparently consisted of, uh, skipping lunch.

I'm not joking.

Saddam was doing without vittles to protest the assasination of one of his lawyers. Legal experts say this may be one of the first time on record anyone, anywhere, has indicated unease at the demise of a lawyer.

But, truly. What a wimpy hunger strike. Two major flaws:

1. He skipped LUNCH. LUNCH, for God's sake. That was it, that was all. Saddam, baby, try working for a living and not having time to eat. Good grief...

2. Generally, the idea of a hunger strike is this: Something bad is happening and will continue to happen absent some change that can be effected. You stop eating so that everyone goes, "Oh my! That Saddam is such a nice man and if he died the world would be so much worse off, we simply MUST meet his demands so he'll start taking nourishment again." (Which leads us to a third subflaw -- you must be someone we would miss if you were gone.)

Your lawyer was DEAD, Saddam. No pulse. He wasn't coming back because you started eating. I mean, the rest of us might have been quite happy to have you continue to protest in this manner, but your method was stupid.

Perhaps he's working on an insanity defense...

This and That on Thursday

2006-06-22T12:21:00.000-04:00

The U.S. is out of the World Cup.

Yeah, I don't care, either.

Seriously, there appear to be three people in this country that cared about the fate of Team USA in the soccer world championship. Two of them were in the lounge here at the car dealership where I'm having my* car fixed, and had ESPN tuned to it. The other one is on ESPN, talking to someone who is clearly from Somewhere Else, my guess being Scotland.

That's my point. ESPN can't even find two American commentators to talk about soccer. Good grief...

***

This week I've learned a few things about myself.

The first part of the week was pretty hectic for Me, Esq. As you might imagine for someone who represents victims of domestic abuse, the work is high-stakes and can be exhausting.

One day this week, I woke up. My brain was running at a million miles an hour and I have to say I was not in a good place.

Suddenly, it clicked. I always made a little fun of those folks who say, "You need to center!" "Center?" What sort of hippy-dippy crap is that?

Suddenly, I realized (1) I wasn't centered; (2) I needed to be and (3) I could become so. I sat down, thought through what had me panicked, realized none of it was that bad and I could handle it all, and also that I should probably not have a CD of loud fast-paced music while I drove to calm me down. It helped a great deal. It was also a good chance to learn more about mastering your circumstances, rather than letting them master you.

***

To those of you hitting this blog through searches for the bar exam and some variant thereof, I feel your pain. Hang in. We're thinking of you.

***

* And now for that asterisk. I can't really call it "my car," but I can say that I have been driving for the past several weeks and will probably be drivng for the rest of the summer, a convertible BMW Z3. No, it's not mine; the Bassett family just has this bizarre way of trading off cars that makes no sense to outsiders or insiders.

Anyway, it's a heckuva fun car and I'm having a great time with it.

***

Nominee for ad of the year: The Bill Gates imitator on the Mac commercials. I find them kind of interesting.

Certainly more interesting than the guy who proceeded it, askng, "Where does U.S. soccer go from here?"

Fabiolous, plus...helmets, anyone?

2006-06-12T21:24:00.000-04:00

Sorry I've been light on the blogging lately; as loyal readers know, I maintain the position that you'd rather suspect I have nothing to blog, rather than to have to come read what I've posted and remove all doubt.

***

I have to give Fabio a little credit. (Now, there's a sentence I never thought I'd write.) If you haven't caught the latest commercial featuring him, it basically starts off by saying it's a shampoo for a man whose name is synonymous with sex appeal (cue: whispered Fabio). We see a shot of Our Hunk (who, some may recall, got hit in the face with a bird a few years ago on a roller coaster) rowing a gondola, and once again hear the whispered (Fabio.) A shot of the shampoo. A shot of Fabio handing a rose to a woman who is clearly in his thrall.

(At home, a shot of Michael shaking his head and nearly gagging, thinking if this is what passes for sex appeal, he may as well just retire from the Dating Game at once.)

Then, the Fabster goes under the bridge and becomes a 75-year-old man. And, at home, a shot of Michael laughing uproariously at someone who can clearly laugh at himself (and the cartoon character he could become, if he took himself too seriously.)

(Oops: In checking Wikipedia to see if Fabio was in fact the guy who got hit with a bird in the face -- he was -- it appears the commercial has been around since Super Bowl XL. Shows how much TV I watch...)

***

I've said before that I think being a sportswriter/commentator could be kind of fun. My dad pointed out I'd probably have to have far more sports knowledge than I do, which is limited to knowing slightly more than that there are four downs in football, nine innings in baseball and eighteen holes in golf.

In any case, I think the people that make up the world of sports are fascinating and it sometimes reminds me of my old gig of politics (which may be the best argument yet for not being a sportswriter!) Anyway, one of the better, more acerbic sportswriters out there is a guy named Mike Celzic, and this article is his take on Ben Roethlisberger's recent attempts to secure a new Indian name, namely, Travels Without Helmet.

Someone buy Big Ben a helmet, please?

I'd Be Blogging More But...

2006-06-08T06:50:00.000-04:00

...sometimes, you have cases that could use this type of resolution...

I'd write more, but I think I see a Gordian knot over there that needs untying...

Notes on Blogging and Lawyering (Incompatability Of); Memorial Day; Living in a Tourist Mecca; and More

2006-05-30T06:58:00.000-04:00

I've been meaning to update, and haven't gotten to for a while. However, when you start receiving emails (OK, really, only one) asking you to update, it's probably time.

***

I've been a little busy lately, and of course, due to attorney-client confidentiality, I can't tell you what I've been up to. I have to say it is frustrating; not that I want to go blabbing client secrets, but it can even be difficult to explain what is going on in a generic sense to try to advocate for change in the system as a result of this.

I think, however, I can say this. As anyone who's been reading this blog for very long knows, I am interested in representing victims of domestic abuse, especially with regard to how this plays out in the custody arena. I have blogged previously on issues in the court system that are perceived and how they are perceived to impact victims of domestic abuse.

I find it absolutely stunning how watching them play out in real life has, in many ways, been very similar to what I have written about.

There is much work to be done.

***

I hope everyone got a chance to commemorate Memorial Day in some small way yesterday. I did what I've been doing for the past eighteen years, which was go to the Oak Harbor Memorial Day services with my grandparents. (I've actually missed three in that time -- one in 1995, when I got sick; one in 2000, when I was in Washington, DC for summer classes; and last year, when I was spending my last day in our house.)

Yesterday it was hot -- around 90 -- but, to paraphrase my grandmother, this is what some servicemen in Iraq right now are calling a light day at the office.

***

Memorial Day also marks the start of the tourist season. For you out-of-staters, the northcoast of Lake Erie is the place everyone wants to be. (Years ago, we were the #2 destination; now, we may well be the #1.) As a frame of reference, I live about twenty minutes away from Cedar Point, which everyone seems to be familiar with. Port Clinton is right on Lake Erie, and our population, usually 5,000 in the winter, can swell to a quarter of a million on July 4.

As you might imagine, this leads to a little congestion, and occasionally, friction between locals and tourists. I, personally, am delighted to see the tourists come; they are unquestionably good for the local economy. (And, full disclosure, my family owns a 60,000 square foot grocery store that is a leading beneficiary of same!)

But there are some people who are not as excited to see the tourists come. They don't like the traffic problems it creates, the crowding, or the increase on property taxes it's led to.

I hear them, although I disagree. Something struck me this weekend about this. The complex I live in has a pool. About the best way for me to find relaxation is to sit by a pool on a pleasant day with good reading material and my iPod nearby. Over the weekend, I didn't venture out there (or out much at all, despite the beautiful weather), because the pool was so crowded.

Could I get irritated and argue it was because of the tourists? Sure, I could. But, in the end, I get the last laugh. Because yesterday, about 4:00, they all packed up and made a three hour drive home. I, meanwhile, put on my suit and grabbed my towel and went down to the pool, where there were just a scattering of people, and hung out for about three hours.

See, I get the last laugh. Others spend lots of money to have a second home here, and will drive great distances to come here. I have one home, and wake up here. They get to enjoy it on the weekends; I get it all week.

***

Every time I read it, I want to suggest to the editors of the magazine "Vanity Fair" that they change the name of their publication. Anything with "Vanity" in it is destined to sound like a lightweight publication, and it is so completely the opposite, it's not even funny.

***

Stop. Obsessing. Now.

2006-05-22T19:40:00.000-04:00

This is a post about searches that bring people to this blog.

The problem with writing posts about searches that bring people to my blog is that you have to use the search terms that bring people to the blog, thus bringing more people to the blog searching for relevant information about the terms they are searching about, which will not be contained in this post. (The one that really vexes me is that I have had an incredible number of people come here searching for M-A-R-I-A-H C-A-R-E-Y D-O-N-T Y-O-U F-O-R-G-E-T A-B-O-U-T U-S V-I-D-E-O, which I have never seen nor discussed.)

I should begin by saying that I have noticed a rather sharp upswing in searches for terms relating to the bar exam and related topics (like "graduate without a job law school.") Robert Feinberg also appears to be a popular topic, which doesn't surprise me. I know when I first encountered the man, I immediately came home and got on Google and went, "Holy mother of God, who IS this maniac?"

Anyway. People are searching for every term imaginable under the Sun, and today, I was visited by someone who found me by typing in the words california bar exam on Yahoo.

I'm somewhere between result #1,400 and 1,410.

OK, what this means, is that someone had to click through 139 other pages to get to that page and click on me.

And to you, I say:

Dude.

You have nothing better to do?

Like, study for the bar exam instead of search for it?

Actually, don't study for it. I didn't actually start studying in earnest (other than the first week after graduation during PMBR -- crap, I'm going to have so many people stopping here) until June 1.

I strongly recommend you take time off now. You won't otherwise.

OK, I admit it. I was pretty bad myself. I spent a lot of time reading the magazine of the National Conference of Bar Examiners the weekend before the exam (yes, I know. It was pretty damn boring.) And, just before the results came out, I was searching for other peoples' reaction.

But last year, at this time, I was sitting placidly by Lake Erie, reading Franklin and Winston, and happily ignoring the hellish summer that was to come.

Go do the same.

And quit searching for things at about page 50. If you haven't found it by then, it probably can't be got.

It's Code Out There

2006-05-19T06:46:00.000-04:00

Today, The Da Vinci Code opens in theaters, and we'll either have a blockbuster or a bust on our hands, but we'll certainly hear about it for the next week or two before it's over. (The previews look pretty good, although I'll probably only end up seeing it once it comes out on DVD, since I haven't read the book yet.)

Anyway, I was reading an article about it and I came across this gem of a quote from Professor Alan Schreck, professor of theology at Franciscan University in Steubenville:

"It's not even such a matter that this is false that Jesus was married as it is the way the book portrays Christians and the Catholic church as being an institution that is investing in covering things up."

Yoo hoo, Alan? Last fifty years? Sex abuse scandals? Priests moved hither and yon? Documents being withheld as we speak? Lots of people (including me) no longer identifying themselves as Catholic?

Concerned the Catholic church will be portrayed as an institution that is investing in covering things up?

Sorry, Alan. I think the horse is outta the barn on that one.

Grey Sunday

2006-05-14T18:59:00.000-04:00

There is this big discussion, among people who disagree over whether it's the King's English or American English, whether the word is spelled gray or grey. I've always come down on the gray side, but didn't really care one way or the other. I didn't even particularly understand the difference. I think I do now.

Today is, without a doubt, a grey day.

***

To start with, a friend of mine (the husband of a very good friend of mine), died at 6:30 this morning.

He's been ill for some time, and we knew it was coming, and he wasn't a young person (he celebrated his 75th birthday yesterday), so it isn't a shock.

At the same time, there are people you just get used to being in your atmosphere and around and people you can talk to, and when you realize you can't talk to them anymore -- ever again -- it does something to you.

Also, what does it say about how far we have come when I consider someone dying at 75 relatively young?

***

From the significant to the mundane. I will spend the better (or, more likely, worse) part of tomorrow writing an appellate brief.

Appellate briefs are challenging on so many levels. First, on your first pass through, the tendency is to become despondent because the person who wrote the other side's brief is so intelligent and brilliant there is absolutely no way you can win. Then you buckle down and realize they can e defeated, but only through careful and studious research. (At this point, you say, "Drat!" and look for arsenic. Realizing you have are out, you write on.) Midway through the brief, you begin to think you will win; and as you write the last quarter of it, you simply cannot imagine how anyone would have another viewpoint than you.

There's a great peril in writing an appellate brief, though. You have to think and, more dangerously, write like a lawyer. This can be a bad thing. Writing in legalese is proven to cause lapses into "wherefores," "hereinafters" and even the occasional "insofar." Sentences drag on forever and ever, and you end things with citations that look to the rest of the world like you've quite lost your mind. Engelbert v. Humperdink, 73 N.E.2d 478, 482 (1917)

At the beginning of my second year of law school, I co-wrote a book with my friend Laura, who was not in law school. According to her mother, Laura's head nearly exploded while reading my detailed outline, which consisted of things like 7(a)(ii)(c) subsection (4). While the ending did not depend on dividing the EITC allowance from subparagraph (d) of 501(c)(3) of the Tax Code and ensuring that there were no implications either from ERISA or 17 USC 1983, everyone agreed they liked the parts of the book Laura wrote better. (You can see why.)

***

On the subject of transitions, and a far more superficial and less important one than what I discussed above, tonight is the end of the "West Wing." While it is one of my favorite shows and that's bad enough, I also remember when the promos started in the spring of 1999, during my freshman year in college. (I remember thinking I wouldn't get to watch it, since I was going to take Writing for Mass Communications on Wednesday evenings.)

It turned out I didn't, and I distinctly remember watching the very first episode on September 22, 1999. That was a date of some importance, as it was the night before an election for county commissioner I was running in. (I lost, by the way.)

For some reason, that has created a link. And even as I think it's the best show on TV, I also feel there's a link that ends tonight.

Plus, there's something disturbing about a series ending. Sure, Jimmy Smits got elected President and Josh will be his Chief of Staff and so on and so on, but they all disappear after tonight. And I find that disturbing.

***

On legal writing. You want to be careful that, even though legal writing is generally bad, it never gets too bad, or you will find yourself at the wrong end of an appellate opinion. This was written by Judge William Skow, who was then a Lucas County Common Pleas judge and now sits on the Sixth District Court of Appeals:

As to the first amended complaint the Court cannot but comment that the complaints are examples, in their best light, of notice pleading run amok. The complaints were deliberately overdrawn and vaguely drawn in an attempt to permit the inclusion of later-developed facts. This is not surprising as no factual basis for the original complaints and the first amended complaints existed at the time each was drawn. The Court found the identical complaint wanting in specificity in Tillimon v. Farmer, but no similar motion was filed in these cases, for whatever reasons defendants' counsel may have had. Thus there was no court order to further amend the first amended complaint (as there surely would have been); nor was there any request from the plaintiff (as there surely should have been for leave to further amend). Moreover, plaintiff's first amended complaint is an example of wretched legal draftsmanship. The syntax and grammer are lamentable, the punctuation remarkable, and the meanings consistently obscure. Mr. Rust could start a successful cottage industry selling road maps and flashlights to those foolish enough to enter his sentences at the beginning. Several of them run a full page: forlorn and stranded phrases in vain search of linkage; and marooned verbs gazing through a fog of participles, hoping to find a predicate.
By way of counterpoint, Mr. Bischoff's motions for summary judgment herein are not candidates for any literary awards either. Mr. Bischoff's problem is the reverse of Mr. Rust; that is, he is overly terse. Still, however, his motions do raise the defects of the first amended complaint and the fatal factual shortcomings in plaintiff's case, in at least an adequate manner. Tillimon v. Sullivan, 88-LW-3124 (Ohio 6, unreported) (1988.)

Where I come from, we call that an old-fashioned bitch-slapping.

***

Another thing contributing to my bad mood is that it's been raining and, well, grey, and cold for days now. I mean, the sun came out today ever so briefly and I squinted.

Quotes of the Day

2006-05-12T08:24:00.000-04:00

"So, are there hamsters inside that copier running on a little wheel to power it?"

-- Anonymous, having spent several hours in front of this solo practitioner's inherited copier. (So, it wasn't just me...)

***

"My dad is very proud that he got a good deal on that copier. I believe he probably didn't spend a lot of money on it, but I'm not sure he got a good deal."

-- Me, later, describing the copier.

***

Sorry for the lack of updates; I've been busy being a lawyer. :) Will write more once things calm down a bit and I get my arms around them...

The Sad Part Is, George, We Agree With You

2006-05-08T20:42:00.000-04:00

The Only President We've Got was recently interviewed by a German journalist, who asked what the most wonderful and the most awful moment in his Presidency was.

His most awful was 9/11. We can all agree on that.

And his most wonderful? After six and a half years of accomplishment, making us safer from terrorists, eavesdropping on evildoers and ridding Iraq of WMDs that weren't there, this is the most wonderful moment of the Bush years, straight from the President himself:

"The best moment was -- you know, I've had a lot of great moments. I don't know, it's hard to characterize the great moments. They've all been busy moments, by the way. I would say the best moment was when I caught a seven-and-a-half pound large mouth bass on my lake."

Wow. Just wow.

Stupendous Stuff on a Sunday

2006-05-07T16:01:00.000-04:00

I honestly can't tell you the last time I've had a better weekend.

Yesterday, I headed north to Ann Arbor, where I had a truly wonderful time. Among other things, I had the opportunity to get a guided tour of the Young Adults' section of Borders by a perfectly delightful sixth grade Language Arts teacher. Let me assure you, you have not lived until you have done this. In addition to inducing pleasant flashbacks of, "Oh, I read this/meant to read this/had a friend who read this," remember how your Language Arts teacher could make most ANY book sounded exciting? Turns out this talent does not work only on sixth graders, but on jaded 26-year-old lawyers as well. By the time we headed for the biography section, I was waxing poetic on the joys of Beverly Cleary.

After stopping at Noodles & Company (an institution which is regrettably not at all in evidence in Ohio) walking past the campus bookstore for the University of Michigan (an institution which is all too much in evidence in the otherwise excellent town of Ann Arbor), and bidding the sixth grade language arts teacher many thanks for an excellent afternoon, I wandered back across campus. (I didn't do this out of any sort of desire to just wander aimlessly; rather, I was parked all the way across campus. The University of Michigan's parking is so bad, I can only conclude they hired one of their own graduates to complete it.) Anyway, I did take a little time and settle on a bench and look through the two new books I purchased at Borders (no, they weren't from the Young Adult section; I bought The Defining Moment: FDR's Hundred Days and the Triumph of Hope by Jonathan Alter, as well as President Reagan: The Triumph of Imagination by Richard Reeves.

After finally finding my parking garage (and considering the pleasant possibility maybe the University of Michigan's parking structure was designed by a Buckeye as some sort of elaborate joke), I decided to make a stop at the Barnes & Noble on Washtenaw Avenue. I truly believe it's the crown jewel of the Barnes & Noble empire, and possibly bookstore Nirvana. (Laura, I didn't check to see if they had any Todd Parr classics.) I keep missing the Shaman Drum Bookstore, which everyone says is awesome. Somehow I keep walking past it.

Anyway, while at Barnes & Noble, I heard a song I hadn't heard in years: Dan Tucker.

Old Dan Tucker was a fine old man,
Washed his face in a fryin' pan
Combed his hair with a wagon wheel

What? You've never heard this? Clearly, you didn't live through second grade at R.C. Waters Elementary School. Anywho, I found out that this song and multiple other old folk songs are contained on a new release by Bruce Springsteen called We Shall Overcome: The Seeger Sessions, and I am listening to it on my iPod as I type. (Yes, I heard a CD played by the Barnes & Noble music department and came home and got it from iTunes. Don't feel too bad for B&N, though. They were a few books lighter when I left.) I highly recommend it.

I finished the day off by getting carryout from the Beirut, which is Toledo's best restaurant and probably the best Lebanese restaurant in the world.

Today, I've spent time reading, listening to music, and generally smiling. Life is good.

***

I saw Bill Clinton on TV last night when I got home. It occurred to me that if we could just repeal the 22nd Amendment, this would make life better in two different ways. First, President Clinton could seek a third term.

Second, so could President Bartlett. (No, I'm not looking forward to the West Wing ending.)

(Oh, and before anyone brings it up: I'd probably submit to life without one of my big toes to see W try to stand on the same debate stage as Bill Clinton.)

***

PTSD alert: I recently received an email inviting me to the 2006 Ohio Democratic Party's annual dinner, where the featured speaker will be Senator Barak Obama.

Now, I'm a fan of Barak Obama. Not nearly as much as my mother, whose fondest hope would seem to be that I give up fighting for battered mothers and start working for the junior senator from Illinois, but still, I'm a fan. And I'm looking forward to seeing him.

There's just one thing: the dinner will be held at Veterans' Memorial Auditorium.

Those of you who have been reading this for a while will recall I spent two and a half days there last summer at the end of July. (Remember, when you watched me take the bar?) I really wasn't looking for a return engagement. (I even said this as early as last November 5.) Even though I passed, I'm in no hurry to revisit it.

Oh, and the other thing? Generally, when Anonymous and I go to these things, we find ourselves at the very back of the room. I mean, way way way back. (Last year was a rare exception; we were right next to the stage.) But, if form holds true, this year, we will find ourselves in the back corner of the room.

And that's where I sat last year. I believe my exact quote was: "I'm so far south, I'm applying Kentucky law."

Ah, well. There are worse ways one can return, you know.

***

I'm in a good mood. Can you tell?

Another Blackwell Run Election...Another Mess?

2006-05-02T13:59:00.000-04:00

Bassett here, from deep in the nerve center of the Port Clinton Bond Issue election effort. Just got this email from the Brian Flannery for Governor campaign saying "Polls Are Open...Mostly"

We have received dozens of calls today from voters being turned away from polls, being pushed to take Republican ballots, and other election day oddities. If you have experienced anything out-of-the ordinary at the polls today, please email Communications Director, Anthony Fossaceca immediately at afoss@flanneryforgovernor.com

This morning, after hearing numerous reports of polls opening late, Bryan issued a request to the Secretary of State to keep polls open an additional 45 minutes to accommodate voters who were turned away this morning. The release is below:

FLANNERY REQUESTS EXTENSION OF VOTING HOURS
Issues With Electronic Voting Machines Disenfranchising Voters

(Cleveland) Democratic Gubernatorial Candidate Bryan E. Flannery this morning made a request to Ohio Secretary of State Kenneth Blackwell to extend voting hours to 8:15pm this evening in response to numerous reports of voters being turned away at polling locations in Cuyahoga and Summit Counties. “Voters of this state deserve every opportunity to cast their ballots.” Flannery said. “Turning away voters because of defective machines or inexperienced poll workers is inexcusable. We must do everything possible to ensure fair, safe, and honest elections. Extending poll hours and giving those turned away this morning an additional opportunity to cast their ballot is the right thing to do.”