The leaves are changing colors and just as quickly, they are beginning to be blown off the trees from the strong westerly winds, combined with the breath of Jack Frost, coming presumably out of the North.
Football season is in full swing, but I must admit, while writing this post, I sit comfortably in my apartment dressed in a t-shirt and shorts. I understand it has already been snowing in other parts of the country. It is, afterall, the middle of October.
I have noticed that the hummingbirds have departed. The fluffy squirrels have been taunting my poor hound (type) dog, who truly believes he has the ability to run up the tree after them. The furry little nut collectors sit just far enough above Roscoe to peer over the side of the branch to laugh and laugh at him. "You can't catch me. Na. Na. Na. Bo. Bo." Now, you may think I am making this up about the squirrels, but I have witnessed them actually singing those words and I have seen a squirrel smile. They do. They laugh and they grin. Believe it.
So, I guess Fall is here, and whatever type of winter we will have is certainly on its way. I purchased the first Christmas present today, in my own disbelief. I have never been one to be prepared. Ever.
Ask my parents. They will confirm this fact.
Will it snow in the "Deep South" this year, I always wonder. Probably in April. That is usually when we see it, IF we see it.
Growing up about two miles or so from Lake Erie, and enjoying Lake effect snow in my youth, and attending Catholic school, while wearing those little pleated skirts, and walking to and from school, I have vivid memories of how miserable snowballs can be while volleyed through the air by the lovely well behaved Catholic boys who walked me home.
No. I don't miss the snow.
Elections are coming up soon, again in this state. And, not a moment too soon, I might add. I recently attended a Sheryl Crowe/John Mayer concert. While there, I was inspired by the fact that these artitst encouraged the crowd to go out and vote. If you don't vote, you have no right to complain when things stink. So, while we sang the songs together in the outdoor ampitheater, I truly believed that there was hope for this world. For this state. For the way things are. I was thinking about Bosnia, and Korea, and all of the money that goes into taking care of making sure that everybody feels that they have enough plutonium. While we pay rediculous prices for everything in order to make it, and have to listen to how all of these big companies make million dollars in surplus over and over again. And, knowing many of my friends have died in senseless wars, peacekeeping missions, and for what? You tell me.
I wish I was a rock n roll superstar. So, I could say, "Okay everybody, make sure whatever you do.....get out there and vote!" Before we know it, a new year will begin. Hopefully, next year things will be better for everybody, everywhere in the world. Anybody have that magic wand I can wave? It is my biggest dream.
Monday, October 16, 2006
Thursday, September 07, 2006
May he who come into our lives, enrich us.....
Let me introduce you to a gifted woman, named Maya Lin. A gifted Architect and artist, whom I have never personally met, but she has become a part of who I am........of who I have become.
In my early teens, I would often visit Washington, D.C., close to where my aunt and uncle live, and since they were busy, working people, they would allow me to explore the area, discover our nation's Capitol.
Growing up, of course, I had heard of Vietnam. I never watched war movies, but recalled having a simple understanding about the United States Government. We watched the news in the evenings at my house, afterall. Of course, as a child born in 1970, I grew up having only a vague recognition of war.
I recall visting the Smithsonians in my early teens, during one of those visits to D.C., and I walked along the Mall. I walked through the grass in my bare feet, watched the frisbees fly by, was curious about the man lying on the bench, barefoot, like me, not realizing that the difference between the two of us was that he did not own any shoes, he did not have a home. I fed breadcrumbs to the pigeons, and gazed at the busloads of children wearing identical colored t-shirts, holding hands, walking into the museums.
I remember the sun shining brightly down from the sky onto the reflecting pool.
...And, then...I happened upon it. It was a granite wall. I saw notes and flowers near it. I saw names, all of these names etched onto the wall. This wall seemed to go on forever. I saw men and women crying, kneeling, praying, touching, etching, looking off into the distance, I saw a man in a wheelchair, shifting to move to the side, so I could walk past him. He looked up at me and forced a smile. What could I say to him, I remember thinking. Was he in the war? What was his story?
I stopped and looked at the wall. Did I recognize any of the names? No. What was this? Vietnam? It was a war, I knew that. I looked down at the portion of the wall in which I was standing, and saw a sealed envelope, carefully placed by a name, with something scribbled on the front of it.
I reached over to the wall itself, to touch the granite. I felt the engraving of the names before me, but felt confused as to why I was touching the wall. It was an impulse that I could not control. Gazing at the envelope made me sad, and I began to weep.
This wall was so long, and the names were so numerous. These men died. They died for me, I realized. Only, it has taken me too many years to realize that they died for me to have the freedom to walk in front of that wall, to see them, to be who I am today.
I was born in Ohio, as was Maya Lin.
Today, I live in Montgomery, Alabama. She has again come into my life, although the experience of walking along the Vietnam Memorial Wall has forever been etched into my being.
I recently found myself barefoot, walking into the water on an extremely scorching Alabama summer afternoon.
On this day, of my 36th year of life, I took my sister and nephew to the Civil Rights Memorial in downtown Montgomery. I said to my nephew, "Remember how I told you that I went to law school? Well, the reason I went was because of this...Justice, Civil Rights, Freedom.": "Do you remember studying about Martin Luther King, Jr. in school?"
A striking black granite monument shouted out the words, "We will not be satisifed until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a might stream." The water rolls down that wall non-stop. See, I said, you can touch it. You can feel the words. You can hear the words, can't you?
We walked around the monument, this one, too designed by Maya Lin. My nephew knew about Rosa Parks. "She was here, in this very place where you are standing," I told him.
We spent precious time, walking around the monument, discussing why it was there. I explained to him about the fact that whites and blacks were not allowed to use the same bathrooms before, nor drink out of the same water fountains, nor sit next to each other on the bus.
We agreed that on some mornings, it was tough to get up in the morning and go to school, because we stayed up too late the night before watching t.v. But, then, we talked about education and freedom, and how fortunate we are to be able to go to school. We can go to school with people of all different races, from different places, from different homes.
We talked about becoming educated so we can made a positive contribution to the world.
In my early teens, I would often visit Washington, D.C., close to where my aunt and uncle live, and since they were busy, working people, they would allow me to explore the area, discover our nation's Capitol.
Growing up, of course, I had heard of Vietnam. I never watched war movies, but recalled having a simple understanding about the United States Government. We watched the news in the evenings at my house, afterall. Of course, as a child born in 1970, I grew up having only a vague recognition of war.
I recall visting the Smithsonians in my early teens, during one of those visits to D.C., and I walked along the Mall. I walked through the grass in my bare feet, watched the frisbees fly by, was curious about the man lying on the bench, barefoot, like me, not realizing that the difference between the two of us was that he did not own any shoes, he did not have a home. I fed breadcrumbs to the pigeons, and gazed at the busloads of children wearing identical colored t-shirts, holding hands, walking into the museums.
I remember the sun shining brightly down from the sky onto the reflecting pool.
...And, then...I happened upon it. It was a granite wall. I saw notes and flowers near it. I saw names, all of these names etched onto the wall. This wall seemed to go on forever. I saw men and women crying, kneeling, praying, touching, etching, looking off into the distance, I saw a man in a wheelchair, shifting to move to the side, so I could walk past him. He looked up at me and forced a smile. What could I say to him, I remember thinking. Was he in the war? What was his story?
I stopped and looked at the wall. Did I recognize any of the names? No. What was this? Vietnam? It was a war, I knew that. I looked down at the portion of the wall in which I was standing, and saw a sealed envelope, carefully placed by a name, with something scribbled on the front of it.
I reached over to the wall itself, to touch the granite. I felt the engraving of the names before me, but felt confused as to why I was touching the wall. It was an impulse that I could not control. Gazing at the envelope made me sad, and I began to weep.
This wall was so long, and the names were so numerous. These men died. They died for me, I realized. Only, it has taken me too many years to realize that they died for me to have the freedom to walk in front of that wall, to see them, to be who I am today.
I was born in Ohio, as was Maya Lin.
Today, I live in Montgomery, Alabama. She has again come into my life, although the experience of walking along the Vietnam Memorial Wall has forever been etched into my being.
I recently found myself barefoot, walking into the water on an extremely scorching Alabama summer afternoon.
On this day, of my 36th year of life, I took my sister and nephew to the Civil Rights Memorial in downtown Montgomery. I said to my nephew, "Remember how I told you that I went to law school? Well, the reason I went was because of this...Justice, Civil Rights, Freedom.": "Do you remember studying about Martin Luther King, Jr. in school?"
A striking black granite monument shouted out the words, "We will not be satisifed until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a might stream." The water rolls down that wall non-stop. See, I said, you can touch it. You can feel the words. You can hear the words, can't you?
We walked around the monument, this one, too designed by Maya Lin. My nephew knew about Rosa Parks. "She was here, in this very place where you are standing," I told him.
We spent precious time, walking around the monument, discussing why it was there. I explained to him about the fact that whites and blacks were not allowed to use the same bathrooms before, nor drink out of the same water fountains, nor sit next to each other on the bus.
We agreed that on some mornings, it was tough to get up in the morning and go to school, because we stayed up too late the night before watching t.v. But, then, we talked about education and freedom, and how fortunate we are to be able to go to school. We can go to school with people of all different races, from different places, from different homes.
We talked about becoming educated so we can made a positive contribution to the world.
Maya Lin will never quite understand what her contribution has been, but I hope that you will have the opportunity to touch the granite that she has used to transform lives.
Let us never forget.................
Let us never forget.................
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
Fun at the Woodshop
There are alot of things one can do with a law degree. I, for example, have found that it makes for a great piece of useless paper in my junk room. I received it in 1999, but still don't have the heart to part with money to purchase a frame for it. Receiving statements from Sallie Mae for the cost of my education has turned me into a frugal consumer. The other day, I was wondering how much money the ink cost that was used in printing my diploma.
A friend of mine, who I consider a genius, but also a very difficult person for me to get along with, owns a woodshop. He sells anything from sandpaper to lathes, bandsaws, routers, etc. In my life prior to becoming a lawyer, I worked for him as a secretary (for a brief time). At that time, he was a Geologic Engineer. Since then, he has become a Professional Engineer, and did so simply by reading the books; he didn't have to go back to school, which I have always felt was impressive.
Anyway, as years passed, he and his wife decided to start their own business, which have turned into several, and now one of his businesses is a woodshop. This is where I am today. In fact, this is where I have been spending most of my days lately.
I don't particularly have a passion for tools, but I do have a passion for craftsman. The guys are pretty cool for the most part to me, too. I love them! I guess that they can tell I love them, too even when I have no idea what they are talking about. It is a learning process, for sure. I would say the majority of the customers who visit build custom cabinets. When you build cabinets, you need hinges. Hinges, hinges, hinges, door slides, and pulls. Hinges remind me of fleas, there are a million of them, and on the other hand, they seem to multiply when you turn your back on them. I hate hinges. I will share that secret with you. I really do hate them. But, they are a necessity. Can you imagine trying to open a cabinet without hinges? Necessity, I guess.
The best thing in the world is being able to find something somebody needs. Customer service is rewarding.
As far as my education, I suppose I will tell you that I started back to school last night. Working on my Masters in Post-Secondary Education, so I can teach Political Science. Sound like fun to you? It is at least relevant. Just like the law.
A friend of mine, who I consider a genius, but also a very difficult person for me to get along with, owns a woodshop. He sells anything from sandpaper to lathes, bandsaws, routers, etc. In my life prior to becoming a lawyer, I worked for him as a secretary (for a brief time). At that time, he was a Geologic Engineer. Since then, he has become a Professional Engineer, and did so simply by reading the books; he didn't have to go back to school, which I have always felt was impressive.
Anyway, as years passed, he and his wife decided to start their own business, which have turned into several, and now one of his businesses is a woodshop. This is where I am today. In fact, this is where I have been spending most of my days lately.
I don't particularly have a passion for tools, but I do have a passion for craftsman. The guys are pretty cool for the most part to me, too. I love them! I guess that they can tell I love them, too even when I have no idea what they are talking about. It is a learning process, for sure. I would say the majority of the customers who visit build custom cabinets. When you build cabinets, you need hinges. Hinges, hinges, hinges, door slides, and pulls. Hinges remind me of fleas, there are a million of them, and on the other hand, they seem to multiply when you turn your back on them. I hate hinges. I will share that secret with you. I really do hate them. But, they are a necessity. Can you imagine trying to open a cabinet without hinges? Necessity, I guess.
The best thing in the world is being able to find something somebody needs. Customer service is rewarding.
As far as my education, I suppose I will tell you that I started back to school last night. Working on my Masters in Post-Secondary Education, so I can teach Political Science. Sound like fun to you? It is at least relevant. Just like the law.
Sunday, July 09, 2006
Have you ever taken a drive on the Lewis Grizzard Highway?
"You might be a redneck if....your house has four wheels."
Okay. Okay. That is Jeff Foxworthy, not Lewis Grizzard. Either way, I love it when people make me laugh.
My favorite Grizzard quote is: "If I Ever Get Back to Georgia, I’m Gonna Nail My Feet to the Ground".
Then there is this one, Lewis’ advice to Atlantans in case of nuclear war:
"If you live on the South side of Atlanta, get on I-75 and go south. If you live of the North side of Atlanta get on I-75 and go north. If you are a Yankee get on 285."
For those of you who know me, you may wonder if I have ever laughed in my life, as I can come across a bit stuffy and non-humorous.
Anyway, yeah, I was driving home from Hotlanta about a month ago (NOT on 285), and saw the sign that reminded I was driving on the Lewis Grizzard Highway. [Which, for those Yankees reading this and not understanding the 285 reference, if you are ever on 285, just be sure you get off at some exit, it is a loop around the city.....]
For several months, I have been unemployed, but now working various short term assignments, earning a little cash-fortunately enough to afford cable television.
Cable t.v. gives me access to comedians. Access to comedians to me is like having access to oxygen. So very necessary.
Once, in middle school, my pre-Algebra teacher, Mr. Godley (was honestly his name).....introduced me to a discovery:
"You are the BEST COMMODIAN I have ever heard." He said.
Yes, my so called humor needed to be flushed. Thank Goodness there are professional comedians in the world that can give me some good material, even if it is for my own enjoyment.
I was born without the humor gene, and yes, it is a handicap, but only because I WISH I was humorous.
Okay.
Sometimes though, I find people are just naturally funny when they don't even mean to be. For example, the biggest laugh I ever got in my life was done innocently.
I was sitting in a three hour Contracts class, in law school one summer afternoon. We were going over something terribly complicated, and my teacher who is now a Federal Judge, always related things back to movies or t.v. (how else can you reach a group of spoiled kids?)
That day, Dr. Williams said, "Remember that movie, what was the name? Build it and they will come."
I looked up from my notes and burst out the title: "Close Encounters!"
My 100 classmates burst into uncontrollable laughter!!!!
"NO, girl!! You mean 'Field of Dreams'! Somebody yelled. (I had never even seen Field of Dreams.) I was humiliated, but took it in stride, and in true lawyer spirit, I explained how the guy was building this thing out of mashed potatoes to contact the aliens. "You know, build it and they will come...the ALIENS!"
More LAUGHTER. Some people couldn't stop laughing AT me.
So, Dr. Williams said, trying to fight back his own tears, "We are laughing WITH you, Sandra. What year was that movie from, uh 1977?"
Was 1977 that long ago? Wow. Okay. I was about 20 years behind, I guess. Out of touch with reality sometimes.
It has been seven years now since I graduated from law school, and some of my former classmates, who are now practicing attorneys will ask me if I have watched Close Encounters lately.
Funny. Everybody wants to be a comedian.
Okay. Okay. That is Jeff Foxworthy, not Lewis Grizzard. Either way, I love it when people make me laugh.
My favorite Grizzard quote is: "If I Ever Get Back to Georgia, I’m Gonna Nail My Feet to the Ground".
Then there is this one, Lewis’ advice to Atlantans in case of nuclear war:
"If you live on the South side of Atlanta, get on I-75 and go south. If you live of the North side of Atlanta get on I-75 and go north. If you are a Yankee get on 285."
For those of you who know me, you may wonder if I have ever laughed in my life, as I can come across a bit stuffy and non-humorous.
Anyway, yeah, I was driving home from Hotlanta about a month ago (NOT on 285), and saw the sign that reminded I was driving on the Lewis Grizzard Highway. [Which, for those Yankees reading this and not understanding the 285 reference, if you are ever on 285, just be sure you get off at some exit, it is a loop around the city.....]
For several months, I have been unemployed, but now working various short term assignments, earning a little cash-fortunately enough to afford cable television.
Cable t.v. gives me access to comedians. Access to comedians to me is like having access to oxygen. So very necessary.
Once, in middle school, my pre-Algebra teacher, Mr. Godley (was honestly his name).....introduced me to a discovery:
"You are the BEST COMMODIAN I have ever heard." He said.
Yes, my so called humor needed to be flushed. Thank Goodness there are professional comedians in the world that can give me some good material, even if it is for my own enjoyment.
I was born without the humor gene, and yes, it is a handicap, but only because I WISH I was humorous.
Okay.
Sometimes though, I find people are just naturally funny when they don't even mean to be. For example, the biggest laugh I ever got in my life was done innocently.
I was sitting in a three hour Contracts class, in law school one summer afternoon. We were going over something terribly complicated, and my teacher who is now a Federal Judge, always related things back to movies or t.v. (how else can you reach a group of spoiled kids?)
That day, Dr. Williams said, "Remember that movie, what was the name? Build it and they will come."
I looked up from my notes and burst out the title: "Close Encounters!"
My 100 classmates burst into uncontrollable laughter!!!!
"NO, girl!! You mean 'Field of Dreams'! Somebody yelled. (I had never even seen Field of Dreams.) I was humiliated, but took it in stride, and in true lawyer spirit, I explained how the guy was building this thing out of mashed potatoes to contact the aliens. "You know, build it and they will come...the ALIENS!"
More LAUGHTER. Some people couldn't stop laughing AT me.
So, Dr. Williams said, trying to fight back his own tears, "We are laughing WITH you, Sandra. What year was that movie from, uh 1977?"
Was 1977 that long ago? Wow. Okay. I was about 20 years behind, I guess. Out of touch with reality sometimes.
It has been seven years now since I graduated from law school, and some of my former classmates, who are now practicing attorneys will ask me if I have watched Close Encounters lately.
Funny. Everybody wants to be a comedian.
The Sun is Shining Brightly in the Deep South and the Devil Wears Prada
Ah, yes. The sun is shining brightly here in Alabama. Before I moved here, I had no knowledge of how bright the sun could shine.
The temperatures have been in the high 90's, which suits me just fine. Great pool weather. And, I am so excited because I am headed to the beach next weekend.
For those of you who have not been fortunate enough to visit the Gulf Coast, the most remarkable detail is the pure white sand, thanks to the limestone of days gone by. It is called, "The Sugar Coast" by some. I think that is an apt description.
I think I am the only one in my family that loves the beach. There is nothing better than the sting of the salt in the air, the relaxed and lazy atmosphere of those around you. The entire coastal attitude is magnificent, in my opinion.
That is, until a hurricane hits....
As for today, I think I am going to see The Devil Wears Prada. I am a sucker for a movie focusing on fashion.
The temperatures have been in the high 90's, which suits me just fine. Great pool weather. And, I am so excited because I am headed to the beach next weekend.
For those of you who have not been fortunate enough to visit the Gulf Coast, the most remarkable detail is the pure white sand, thanks to the limestone of days gone by. It is called, "The Sugar Coast" by some. I think that is an apt description.
I think I am the only one in my family that loves the beach. There is nothing better than the sting of the salt in the air, the relaxed and lazy atmosphere of those around you. The entire coastal attitude is magnificent, in my opinion.
That is, until a hurricane hits....
As for today, I think I am going to see The Devil Wears Prada. I am a sucker for a movie focusing on fashion.
Sunday, June 25, 2006
Little River Canyon Reserve, Ft. Payne, AL
A murder is what prompted my first visit to Little River Canyon over five years ago. As with any murder, this one was horrific, and should have never happened. I know the attorney that defended the murderer. She has since been pardoned. It borne a theory called the "battered wives syndrome".
I returned to Little River Canyon last weekend. Since my first visit, I have learned that Little River Canyon is I believe, the only canyon atop a mountain in the U.S.
My loving companion, the powder blue Altima, complained as I punched the gas to climb elevations that my BMW previously had no trouble with. It was a windy Sunday afternoon, and not a cloud in the sky. I needed to clear my head. I needed to be alone afterall. Can I count how many times I wanted to pull over and pick the breathtaking flowers in bloom? Those rocks! How beautiful they would be in a rock garden. Hmmm. Well, I will just tell you that the fact you are not allowed to take away from the reserve, made me want to that much more.
Ft. Payne is quite a small town. Famous for the country musicians in the group Alabama. I have also learned that there is some unbelieveably long yard sale that stretches across several states, which happens to wind through Ft. Payne. Small towns never cease to amaze me.
But, what is most impressive is this canyon. I have visited the sight of the murder several times. I actually get out of the car, and walk to the sight, and lose my balance slightly when I peer over the side of the canyon. It is one thing to read a book about a murder, or to watch a movie about one. Morbid curiousity, but because maybe some of us don't understand the how or the why's of it. Have you ever been that angry at somebody that you have thought terrible things? Yes you have. But, this....anger....was not the issue. The issue was about one human being controlling another one.
Would you ever allow that evil side of you appear? Most of us would hurridly say, "no! never! not me! " One thing I have discovered working in the practice of law, and understanding forensics, psychology and why folks do the things they do, is that many of those who have crossed the line NEVER ever imagined for a split second prior to the act, they could or would ever do such thing. Guess what. Sometimes people are wrong about themselves and who they are or what they could or would do.
What if you were brainwashed by somebody who you believed would kill you, if you didn't do what they told you to do? These are some of the thoughts I have atop the canyon.
So, why do I go there, you ask? Well....quite a few reasons. To this day, I still don't know what I would have done had I been there at the moment of the murder. I think I know that I would have said, "Bring it on, chum. Walk the walk, buddy." I wouldn't believe the sob. I don't allow too many people to get close to me emotionally, perhaps the lack of trust in the world has prompted this. My mother calls me jaded.
The irony of it all is that the place, the REFUGE, is one of astonishing beauty. When I am up at the canyon, all I can think of is the power of God....of creation...of good and wonder in the world. I wonder why bad things happen to innocent people in the world.
I take time out to look at the tiniest bloom of the tiniest flower I can find. I jump up on the rocks, as if I were a kid again. I get dirty. I go barefoot. I smell the fresh air, look for the endangered species who live there.
Sometimes people I don't even know piss me off.
I returned to Little River Canyon last weekend. Since my first visit, I have learned that Little River Canyon is I believe, the only canyon atop a mountain in the U.S.
My loving companion, the powder blue Altima, complained as I punched the gas to climb elevations that my BMW previously had no trouble with. It was a windy Sunday afternoon, and not a cloud in the sky. I needed to clear my head. I needed to be alone afterall. Can I count how many times I wanted to pull over and pick the breathtaking flowers in bloom? Those rocks! How beautiful they would be in a rock garden. Hmmm. Well, I will just tell you that the fact you are not allowed to take away from the reserve, made me want to that much more.
Ft. Payne is quite a small town. Famous for the country musicians in the group Alabama. I have also learned that there is some unbelieveably long yard sale that stretches across several states, which happens to wind through Ft. Payne. Small towns never cease to amaze me.
But, what is most impressive is this canyon. I have visited the sight of the murder several times. I actually get out of the car, and walk to the sight, and lose my balance slightly when I peer over the side of the canyon. It is one thing to read a book about a murder, or to watch a movie about one. Morbid curiousity, but because maybe some of us don't understand the how or the why's of it. Have you ever been that angry at somebody that you have thought terrible things? Yes you have. But, this....anger....was not the issue. The issue was about one human being controlling another one.
Would you ever allow that evil side of you appear? Most of us would hurridly say, "no! never! not me! " One thing I have discovered working in the practice of law, and understanding forensics, psychology and why folks do the things they do, is that many of those who have crossed the line NEVER ever imagined for a split second prior to the act, they could or would ever do such thing. Guess what. Sometimes people are wrong about themselves and who they are or what they could or would do.
What if you were brainwashed by somebody who you believed would kill you, if you didn't do what they told you to do? These are some of the thoughts I have atop the canyon.
So, why do I go there, you ask? Well....quite a few reasons. To this day, I still don't know what I would have done had I been there at the moment of the murder. I think I know that I would have said, "Bring it on, chum. Walk the walk, buddy." I wouldn't believe the sob. I don't allow too many people to get close to me emotionally, perhaps the lack of trust in the world has prompted this. My mother calls me jaded.
The irony of it all is that the place, the REFUGE, is one of astonishing beauty. When I am up at the canyon, all I can think of is the power of God....of creation...of good and wonder in the world. I wonder why bad things happen to innocent people in the world.
I take time out to look at the tiniest bloom of the tiniest flower I can find. I jump up on the rocks, as if I were a kid again. I get dirty. I go barefoot. I smell the fresh air, look for the endangered species who live there.
Sometimes people I don't even know piss me off.
Metamorphasis
Organic and natural foods are my favorite.
Thanks to an addition of two new healthfood stores, and a Publix grocery store, that carries a wide variety of foods, both shopping for and eating food has become my new favorite past time.
I have been attending hypnotherapy sessions lately. I know. I know. Different.
For years, I have been unhappy with myself. So, I decided to make some changes.
The air I breathe smells much sweeter now. It seems as though I can't consume enough water. In three weeks, I have only consumed three sodas. The first soda I drank after hypnosis tasted disgusting, reminscient of the crap you have to drink during the glucose tolerance test to see if you have sugar diabetes.
A friend of mine e-mailed me the other day, as we had been discussing weight loss, which is one of the reasons (of many) I decided to undergo hypnotherapy. She said, funny thing was that Oprah was on her t.v. at that moment talking abougt weight, and she said, "You make the decision to lose weight".
It is a control issue. For those of you who may have read my past blogs, might sense I am hung up on having control, but all the while, my lack of control over things were the most prevelant. Like, you know what? I don't believe that life just randomly occurs. I think that you actually have more control than you give yourself credit for.
I was out of work for a few months. Still not employed permanently, but at least, have a place to go and work each day! So, when I was out of work, and had very little to do with my time, I began reading, mainly books having to do with spirituality, dreams, synchronicity.
If you are reading this blog right now, it is because you were meant to do so. What type of changes are you going to make?
Thanks to an addition of two new healthfood stores, and a Publix grocery store, that carries a wide variety of foods, both shopping for and eating food has become my new favorite past time.
I have been attending hypnotherapy sessions lately. I know. I know. Different.
For years, I have been unhappy with myself. So, I decided to make some changes.
The air I breathe smells much sweeter now. It seems as though I can't consume enough water. In three weeks, I have only consumed three sodas. The first soda I drank after hypnosis tasted disgusting, reminscient of the crap you have to drink during the glucose tolerance test to see if you have sugar diabetes.
A friend of mine e-mailed me the other day, as we had been discussing weight loss, which is one of the reasons (of many) I decided to undergo hypnotherapy. She said, funny thing was that Oprah was on her t.v. at that moment talking abougt weight, and she said, "You make the decision to lose weight".
It is a control issue. For those of you who may have read my past blogs, might sense I am hung up on having control, but all the while, my lack of control over things were the most prevelant. Like, you know what? I don't believe that life just randomly occurs. I think that you actually have more control than you give yourself credit for.
I was out of work for a few months. Still not employed permanently, but at least, have a place to go and work each day! So, when I was out of work, and had very little to do with my time, I began reading, mainly books having to do with spirituality, dreams, synchronicity.
If you are reading this blog right now, it is because you were meant to do so. What type of changes are you going to make?
Saturday, June 24, 2006
My Parents: If Only they Knew....
My parents constantly humor me. The best part about it , is they don't even realize the value of the comedy they generate.
Not only are both my parents extremely intellectual, and brilliant, they are nerdy. I can't really think of a better adjective.
It is my honest belief that before one is born, your soul chooses your parents.
Mine, have filled my life with awe, disbelief, education, and most remarkably, entertainment. I am the luckiest person I know.
My parents are geeks.
They are both genius and slapsick comedians all wrapped up in one. And, even when they seem to own personalities on opposite poles, suddenly, I realize they are each sitting smack dab on the equator. Two peas if I have ever seen 'em.
I appreciate technology, and the discovery of blogging, because it has given me great insight into the mind of a rather quiet man who is my father. He often writes about things that I myself have either witnessed and/or experienced firsthand. It has only been within the past year of my life that I have come to appreciate the fact that my odd parents are also comparable to the classic slapstick comedians.
Let me give you an example. My mom, from time to time, moves furniture around in the house. Sometimes none of us notice the change. I suspect that mom moves furniture as a result of a combination of boredom, private torment and most of all victory.
I read a recent blog of my dad's that recounted him tripping over a table that mom had moved during one of her presto chango acts. After reading the blog, upon my next visit, I remarked, "Oh mom, so, you....changed the furniture around, huh?"
"Oh, you noticed?" She remarked. I am afraid that I probably wouldn't have noticed other than reading my dad's blog the day before, but like I said previously, thank goodness for technology.
Then, I started visualizing my dad flying across the living room after having tripped over the coffee table. Now, to be honest, I don't recall this happening, but knowing that he survived that incident, the visual still puts a smile on my face even now. Let's be real. If you have been married as long as they have (God knows, it has been forever).....comedy just happens!!!!
I do my best at entertaining my folks. For example a few months ago, I rushed over there to show them my new tattoo.
The only reaction I got was a peer overtop of the daily newspaper and a "huh".
"Sort of looks like a smudge." Mom said.
"Yeah," Dad joined, "of oil..."
"Want me to get something to wipe it off with?" Mom asked
They chuckled. It was sort of some type of sick revenge---the parents have won. The child's shock value...lost. Dang it, now I have to call my plastic surgeon and find out how much it will cost to remove it, and how soon he can schedule me....
Okay.
Not only are both my parents extremely intellectual, and brilliant, they are nerdy. I can't really think of a better adjective.
It is my honest belief that before one is born, your soul chooses your parents.
Mine, have filled my life with awe, disbelief, education, and most remarkably, entertainment. I am the luckiest person I know.
My parents are geeks.
They are both genius and slapsick comedians all wrapped up in one. And, even when they seem to own personalities on opposite poles, suddenly, I realize they are each sitting smack dab on the equator. Two peas if I have ever seen 'em.
I appreciate technology, and the discovery of blogging, because it has given me great insight into the mind of a rather quiet man who is my father. He often writes about things that I myself have either witnessed and/or experienced firsthand. It has only been within the past year of my life that I have come to appreciate the fact that my odd parents are also comparable to the classic slapstick comedians.
Let me give you an example. My mom, from time to time, moves furniture around in the house. Sometimes none of us notice the change. I suspect that mom moves furniture as a result of a combination of boredom, private torment and most of all victory.
I read a recent blog of my dad's that recounted him tripping over a table that mom had moved during one of her presto chango acts. After reading the blog, upon my next visit, I remarked, "Oh mom, so, you....changed the furniture around, huh?"
"Oh, you noticed?" She remarked. I am afraid that I probably wouldn't have noticed other than reading my dad's blog the day before, but like I said previously, thank goodness for technology.
Then, I started visualizing my dad flying across the living room after having tripped over the coffee table. Now, to be honest, I don't recall this happening, but knowing that he survived that incident, the visual still puts a smile on my face even now. Let's be real. If you have been married as long as they have (God knows, it has been forever).....comedy just happens!!!!
I do my best at entertaining my folks. For example a few months ago, I rushed over there to show them my new tattoo.
The only reaction I got was a peer overtop of the daily newspaper and a "huh".
"Sort of looks like a smudge." Mom said.
"Yeah," Dad joined, "of oil..."
"Want me to get something to wipe it off with?" Mom asked
They chuckled. It was sort of some type of sick revenge---the parents have won. The child's shock value...lost. Dang it, now I have to call my plastic surgeon and find out how much it will cost to remove it, and how soon he can schedule me....
Okay.
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
Don't Sweat the Small Stuff, but you Better Sweat the Big Stuff
Laid Off.
Again.
Time for a change in life. Again. Mid life crisis anybody? I have had a few....Okay, Okay. I am exaggerating.
Since my last post, alot has happened, and I am no longer sweating the small stuff, per se. I can't even remember what the small stuff consists of.
I lost my job; hence, my income. For a self supported person with a car, dog and a cat...well...you can imagine the crisis.
I failed the bar exam, by 9 points. It may sound like a big deal and maybe it should have been. Maybe it really is, but I am numb to the outcome. I absolutely did my very best. For the first time in my life, maybe something I put forth 110% effort was not enough? I guess, since I have never been married and have counseled many, many couples going through divorce, I finally understand what it feels like to have put forth all of your effort and not obtain the desired outcome.
If you would have told me years ago that I would be in such a situation now, after having put forth all of that time and effort into school....well, I may have said, "I will just not go to school then."
The most valuable thing I can share with any reader out in the universe who may come to this page today, is that I would never trade my education for anything. Looking back, I have to say that my parents, my family and education made me the person I am today.
I got laid off before I found out I failed the bar exam. How bizarre. I will tell you this is the first time in my life that losing a job has been such a relief in so many ways.
A good friend of mine from grade school called me about a month ago and I told him that I didn't know how much more I could withstand of my life the way it was. I hated it. There was something cosmically wrong with everything....mainly, however, where I worked and who I saw at work each day. My friends, I am here to tell you today, that you should not live your life feeling that way.
Stress is the silent killer. It really is. I don't mean live a stress free life, because that is impossible, but I mean find what you love to do and do it!
Life is but a breath. When we die, we should have no regrets.
Again.
Time for a change in life. Again. Mid life crisis anybody? I have had a few....Okay, Okay. I am exaggerating.
Since my last post, alot has happened, and I am no longer sweating the small stuff, per se. I can't even remember what the small stuff consists of.
I lost my job; hence, my income. For a self supported person with a car, dog and a cat...well...you can imagine the crisis.
I failed the bar exam, by 9 points. It may sound like a big deal and maybe it should have been. Maybe it really is, but I am numb to the outcome. I absolutely did my very best. For the first time in my life, maybe something I put forth 110% effort was not enough? I guess, since I have never been married and have counseled many, many couples going through divorce, I finally understand what it feels like to have put forth all of your effort and not obtain the desired outcome.
If you would have told me years ago that I would be in such a situation now, after having put forth all of that time and effort into school....well, I may have said, "I will just not go to school then."
The most valuable thing I can share with any reader out in the universe who may come to this page today, is that I would never trade my education for anything. Looking back, I have to say that my parents, my family and education made me the person I am today.
I got laid off before I found out I failed the bar exam. How bizarre. I will tell you this is the first time in my life that losing a job has been such a relief in so many ways.
A good friend of mine from grade school called me about a month ago and I told him that I didn't know how much more I could withstand of my life the way it was. I hated it. There was something cosmically wrong with everything....mainly, however, where I worked and who I saw at work each day. My friends, I am here to tell you today, that you should not live your life feeling that way.
Stress is the silent killer. It really is. I don't mean live a stress free life, because that is impossible, but I mean find what you love to do and do it!
Life is but a breath. When we die, we should have no regrets.
Friday, April 14, 2006
Tattoos II
It happened. I did it. I got a tattoo. Can't even believe that I did it, but it was so awesome! It is on my ankle.
Ever heard of a Kokopelli? It is a symbol representing many things, but including fertility....hmmmm. It is amazing what has happened since that day...
On another note, trying to stop smoking. Will find out if I passed the Bar exam in a few weeks, at the end of this month. I know that it will not change the person that I am today, but if I pass, it would certainly be a load off of my mind. You know? I went to school a very long time, and would love to start signing my name to the work that I produce.
Anyway, hope that you all are doing well. Please let me know. I haven't been in the blog world for awhile, as I have been so busy with work. So, let me know.
Ever heard of a Kokopelli? It is a symbol representing many things, but including fertility....hmmmm. It is amazing what has happened since that day...
On another note, trying to stop smoking. Will find out if I passed the Bar exam in a few weeks, at the end of this month. I know that it will not change the person that I am today, but if I pass, it would certainly be a load off of my mind. You know? I went to school a very long time, and would love to start signing my name to the work that I produce.
Anyway, hope that you all are doing well. Please let me know. I haven't been in the blog world for awhile, as I have been so busy with work. So, let me know.
Friday, March 24, 2006
Tattoos
Nearly everybody I know, or don't know, has a tattoo these days.....For some reason, I have not yet gone to get INKED. I can't say that I would never, but I guess I think I am too fickle. Who knows what I would want!
My philosophy about personally getting a butterfly, is that depending on whether I get fat or skinny, as will the butterfly. I need to get one flexible enough....
So, a friend of mine has some symbol of her Indian Heritage, which is way cool. I am not sure what my heritage is, though.
All I know is that I was either left behind by a Gypsy, or found underneath a cabbage leaf. I still have not determined which is true.
My brother has a tattoo of either Ren or Stimpy, I can't remember which one.
Many people I know have like...crazy barbwire going around their wrist, arm, etc. Another friend has a dolphin (awe...cute). Right?
So, once I pass the Bar exam, I was thinking about maybe the Scales of Justice. Gag me? Yeah, I know. That is just how cool I am NOT.
Cool. Never been, but I hope to become that someday.
If anybody has suggestions, I would appreciate them.
My philosophy about personally getting a butterfly, is that depending on whether I get fat or skinny, as will the butterfly. I need to get one flexible enough....
So, a friend of mine has some symbol of her Indian Heritage, which is way cool. I am not sure what my heritage is, though.
All I know is that I was either left behind by a Gypsy, or found underneath a cabbage leaf. I still have not determined which is true.
My brother has a tattoo of either Ren or Stimpy, I can't remember which one.
Many people I know have like...crazy barbwire going around their wrist, arm, etc. Another friend has a dolphin (awe...cute). Right?
So, once I pass the Bar exam, I was thinking about maybe the Scales of Justice. Gag me? Yeah, I know. That is just how cool I am NOT.
Cool. Never been, but I hope to become that someday.
If anybody has suggestions, I would appreciate them.
Sunday, March 12, 2006
One Less Armadillo
"To every thing turn, turn, turn....there is a season." (The lyrics to a Byrds song, or for you readers of the Bible, great words of wisdom.)
Yeah. I killed it. I am a big fat murderer. But, there was no premeditation, so it was not a homicide. Okay?
I know, an Armadillo should not be crossing the Interstate when I am driving. The untimely death of the Armadillo that was crossing Interstate-65 when I was driving home tonight brought new meaning to Sammy Haggard's "I can't drive 55." I guess he killed an Armadillo, too.....
The natural tendency for me, and maybe others, I don't know...is when you see something in the interstate you are about to hit is to either swerve, or slam on your brakes. I tried something new tonight, which was to hit the thing straight on.
You see, I work in a law office, as many of you know. People come into the office every day, hurt and mangled. They swerved.
I inherited a great general love for animals, any animals, from my parents. I would prefer a house full of dogs, and cats to people. As it is now, I have a dog and a cat. Not a husband, nor boyfriend. Yeah, my choice, believe it or not people.
I have peacefully lived with my 56lb dog for about three years now, which beats any record I have with living with a human being, since I moved out of my parent's house, that is.
Growing up, I had a German Short haried Pointer, named Pal, who met his demise by a train. Thankfully, my parents allowed me to believe that Pal just "went missing". I think I was maybe 25 when I finally asked them if he got hit by a train. I was glad that they lied to me, of course. But, I will just tell you something, I LOVED that dog.
The dog I currently own, named Roscoe is far from a purebred dog. However, his pedigree (the one I would have if he was) shows his full name as "Sir Roscoe P. Coe Train. (My 11 year old nephew who watches the Duke boy reruns religiously asked me recently where in the world I got the name Roscoe from.) When I confirmed to my young nephew that I had in fact borrowed the name from the Dukes of Hazard, he said first "I KNEW IT" and then, "I didn't know you watch that show." I explained to him that I once watched that show.
Anyway, if you read my dad's blog, you will find that they own some dogs of their own. One of my x-dogs, Emily (it is a long story that involves a shocking story, just kidding), their Rottweiller, Tiny (who is not tiny), and then my brother has this silly looking chihuaha mix named Stinky (don't ask).
My brother also owns a squirrel, who was as an infant abandoned by it's mamma. I will refrain from writing much about the squirrel, because I am the only one he likes to mark. Don't ask me.
Anyway, I have only recently realized that some people don't like dogs. I was in shock the day I discovered it.
One of the guys I used to date, and is still one of my best friends is an avid hunter. I asked him the other day if he enjoyed hunting for the hunt or the kill or both. He told me that it was definitely the kill.
Well, you won't ever catch me out there in the woods killing a deer, although I don't have any oppossition to hunting. I just could not bring myself to do it.
But, God help any human being who tries to mess with me. A bow and arrow, perhaps? Now, there is an idea.
Yeah. I killed it. I am a big fat murderer. But, there was no premeditation, so it was not a homicide. Okay?
I know, an Armadillo should not be crossing the Interstate when I am driving. The untimely death of the Armadillo that was crossing Interstate-65 when I was driving home tonight brought new meaning to Sammy Haggard's "I can't drive 55." I guess he killed an Armadillo, too.....
The natural tendency for me, and maybe others, I don't know...is when you see something in the interstate you are about to hit is to either swerve, or slam on your brakes. I tried something new tonight, which was to hit the thing straight on.
You see, I work in a law office, as many of you know. People come into the office every day, hurt and mangled. They swerved.
I inherited a great general love for animals, any animals, from my parents. I would prefer a house full of dogs, and cats to people. As it is now, I have a dog and a cat. Not a husband, nor boyfriend. Yeah, my choice, believe it or not people.
I have peacefully lived with my 56lb dog for about three years now, which beats any record I have with living with a human being, since I moved out of my parent's house, that is.
Growing up, I had a German Short haried Pointer, named Pal, who met his demise by a train. Thankfully, my parents allowed me to believe that Pal just "went missing". I think I was maybe 25 when I finally asked them if he got hit by a train. I was glad that they lied to me, of course. But, I will just tell you something, I LOVED that dog.
The dog I currently own, named Roscoe is far from a purebred dog. However, his pedigree (the one I would have if he was) shows his full name as "Sir Roscoe P. Coe Train. (My 11 year old nephew who watches the Duke boy reruns religiously asked me recently where in the world I got the name Roscoe from.) When I confirmed to my young nephew that I had in fact borrowed the name from the Dukes of Hazard, he said first "I KNEW IT" and then, "I didn't know you watch that show." I explained to him that I once watched that show.
Anyway, if you read my dad's blog, you will find that they own some dogs of their own. One of my x-dogs, Emily (it is a long story that involves a shocking story, just kidding), their Rottweiller, Tiny (who is not tiny), and then my brother has this silly looking chihuaha mix named Stinky (don't ask).
My brother also owns a squirrel, who was as an infant abandoned by it's mamma. I will refrain from writing much about the squirrel, because I am the only one he likes to mark. Don't ask me.
Anyway, I have only recently realized that some people don't like dogs. I was in shock the day I discovered it.
One of the guys I used to date, and is still one of my best friends is an avid hunter. I asked him the other day if he enjoyed hunting for the hunt or the kill or both. He told me that it was definitely the kill.
Well, you won't ever catch me out there in the woods killing a deer, although I don't have any oppossition to hunting. I just could not bring myself to do it.
But, God help any human being who tries to mess with me. A bow and arrow, perhaps? Now, there is an idea.
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
Understanding
It has been several days since I have added a post. One of the things my dad mentioned to me when I started blogging is the fact that most people don't keep it up. I enjoy posting every day, not only because so much seems to happen and so many things tick me off, but because my thoughts have an outlet. And, I actually have readers who make it especially rewarding. I have enjoyed chatting with several bloggers across the country, and reading their thoughts.
Reading blogs fulfills my deep seeded desire to peer into other's minds. I can't even begin to tell you the fascinating posts I have read, and how stimulated it has made me.
I am often accused of talking alot. Too much. Yeah. I am a chatter box, and always have been.
For the past few days, I have felt void of anything to share. I have had a rough couple of days. Do other people have those? Yeah, Yeah, I know. Everyone has rough days.
Today was not much better. I sat in front of our network trying to get it to work. Mind you, we have techies under contract that enjoy coming to our office for any and every issue we have, but after all is said and done, our bill knocks the wind out of you. Since I have gone to work in the firm, they have had to deal with the wrath of Sandra. "Well, what was wrong?" "How did you fix it?" "Show me what you did." They hate me. I know it, but frankly don't care. I know that many people hold lawyers in less than high esteem, because of one reason or another. I have heard all of the reasons, believe me.
My dad is a network engineer. I wouldn't have his job to save my life. I thought about him today, when I was saying not too nice words to our network, but I refused to allow a simple problem to continue. He talks numbers and oh, so many foreign languages, computer languages. I really admire what he does. I know that he probably has to deal with crabby people like me who ask a million question, too. The only reason I put our great men under such scrutiny is that I have no confidence in their abilities. Yeah, just like a lawyer, huh? Arrogant? Maybe.
Several years ago, I worked for an engineering firm. My dad was once a QC engineer. Quality Control for all of you out there who don't work for a company who any longer has a QC division...I worked with engineers, and techinically had to actually do some engineering. I hated the engineering part of it. I loved the writing though, so I wrote up reports, and did some things that alot of engineers don't care to do.....such as the "meet and great" sort of stuff. When I was working formulas and trying to work the engineering calculators, I was wishing my dad was there. I hated the engineering part of it, the technical aspect of it. I asked the engineers "how did you get that figure?" "What did you do?" Yeah, I was a pain. But, there is a marked difference in the reason behind my questions then. I was curious, and wanted to know how to do things. I usually ended up having to draw pictures, and work out engineering problems like doing long division. I dare not ever show my sketches to the engineers, though..they probably wouldn't understand.
My dad's career choices have always fascinated me, and for some reason, I am drawn into careers that demand my doing them. Or calling somebody who knows how to do them. After all of my painful questions, I have come to have a sincere respect for what he does for a living.
I remember the agony in grade school math class I suffered with word problems. He would expalin them to me over and over again. Word problems made me cry. For example, if a train left at a certain time at one train station...blah.blah.blah. what time would it arrive at the other station? First of all, at that age, I didn't care. Secondly, it made no sense why anybody would solve those problems with mathematics. I wanted to the practical way to find out. "Call the train station and ask for the estimated time of arrival." It was a good enough answer for me. My dad had the patience of Job when it came to teaching me math.
I think our differences have to be blamed on the fact that I think with the right side of my brain and he with his left brain. He interpreted my answers with me being a smart alec. Maybe I was, but I have always cherished the beauty in exploring a variety of ways to solve problems.
In dealing with the law, you have to apply creative thinking every day, but at the same time be analytical and logical. Okay, okay, no wonder lawyers are such wierdos. Not only do you have to use your right brain (which comes to me naturally), but also your left brain. Give me a break.
So, parents, next time your kid comes home stinking in math, who knows, they may just become a lawyer? OH NO!
Reading blogs fulfills my deep seeded desire to peer into other's minds. I can't even begin to tell you the fascinating posts I have read, and how stimulated it has made me.
I am often accused of talking alot. Too much. Yeah. I am a chatter box, and always have been.
For the past few days, I have felt void of anything to share. I have had a rough couple of days. Do other people have those? Yeah, Yeah, I know. Everyone has rough days.
Today was not much better. I sat in front of our network trying to get it to work. Mind you, we have techies under contract that enjoy coming to our office for any and every issue we have, but after all is said and done, our bill knocks the wind out of you. Since I have gone to work in the firm, they have had to deal with the wrath of Sandra. "Well, what was wrong?" "How did you fix it?" "Show me what you did." They hate me. I know it, but frankly don't care. I know that many people hold lawyers in less than high esteem, because of one reason or another. I have heard all of the reasons, believe me.
My dad is a network engineer. I wouldn't have his job to save my life. I thought about him today, when I was saying not too nice words to our network, but I refused to allow a simple problem to continue. He talks numbers and oh, so many foreign languages, computer languages. I really admire what he does. I know that he probably has to deal with crabby people like me who ask a million question, too. The only reason I put our great men under such scrutiny is that I have no confidence in their abilities. Yeah, just like a lawyer, huh? Arrogant? Maybe.
Several years ago, I worked for an engineering firm. My dad was once a QC engineer. Quality Control for all of you out there who don't work for a company who any longer has a QC division...I worked with engineers, and techinically had to actually do some engineering. I hated the engineering part of it. I loved the writing though, so I wrote up reports, and did some things that alot of engineers don't care to do.....such as the "meet and great" sort of stuff. When I was working formulas and trying to work the engineering calculators, I was wishing my dad was there. I hated the engineering part of it, the technical aspect of it. I asked the engineers "how did you get that figure?" "What did you do?" Yeah, I was a pain. But, there is a marked difference in the reason behind my questions then. I was curious, and wanted to know how to do things. I usually ended up having to draw pictures, and work out engineering problems like doing long division. I dare not ever show my sketches to the engineers, though..they probably wouldn't understand.
My dad's career choices have always fascinated me, and for some reason, I am drawn into careers that demand my doing them. Or calling somebody who knows how to do them. After all of my painful questions, I have come to have a sincere respect for what he does for a living.
I remember the agony in grade school math class I suffered with word problems. He would expalin them to me over and over again. Word problems made me cry. For example, if a train left at a certain time at one train station...blah.blah.blah. what time would it arrive at the other station? First of all, at that age, I didn't care. Secondly, it made no sense why anybody would solve those problems with mathematics. I wanted to the practical way to find out. "Call the train station and ask for the estimated time of arrival." It was a good enough answer for me. My dad had the patience of Job when it came to teaching me math.
I think our differences have to be blamed on the fact that I think with the right side of my brain and he with his left brain. He interpreted my answers with me being a smart alec. Maybe I was, but I have always cherished the beauty in exploring a variety of ways to solve problems.
In dealing with the law, you have to apply creative thinking every day, but at the same time be analytical and logical. Okay, okay, no wonder lawyers are such wierdos. Not only do you have to use your right brain (which comes to me naturally), but also your left brain. Give me a break.
So, parents, next time your kid comes home stinking in math, who knows, they may just become a lawyer? OH NO!
Monday, February 27, 2006
911
There is a distinct difference between panicking for no reason, and being in a situation that requires your fingers to dial "911".
Originally, I had planned to attend a Jewish Food Festival on Saturday, as I posted in my past blog. However, Saturday, the pouring rain dictated my activities a little more than I had anticipated.
I will just say this: "You make plans, and LIFE HAPPENS."
As it turns out, since this was my first "free" Saturday, after the bar exam, and the "Month of Hell" of my isolation. I rarely left this apartment, and although it is a beautiful place to live, secluding yourself with books and notes, studying your brains out, and not allowing yourself to socialize, makes for an even unrealiziable neglect for running of a household.
I succeeded in purchasing the bare necessities , and got the immediate bills paid. I had an entire month of living like Henry David Thoreau, except without the pond, and life in the woods. While like Thoreau, I lived in isolation.
The vast difference between Thoreau and me, and isolation is that he was studying the Great Thinkers of the Eastern World, in order to discover the fulfillment of a man's soul; I was studying the contemplation and application of English Common Law, and contemporary Statutory Law, I spent my time attempting to apply the intent of our Founding Fathers and the evolution of the applications in Statutory Law.
I approached my challenges as if I were an artist, sitting before a blank canvas, and equated each law as a distinct color of oil paint on a pallete. My brush was the application of all that seemed unmanageable in the beginning. I took each color (law), and individually applied it onto the canvas. As I progressed, I could see the need for the colors of the law to be applied in a manner which would blend each and every one into a masterpiece of a complete painting.
The colors in the painting were not my creation, but the task of the assembly the concepts and understanding each law individually and collectively, was mine.
People that share space in the world had become irrlevant to my life. They were simply not a factor to my existence; though, I knew they were "around"; however, in my world, existed only in concept.
Men are, in my observation, social beasts in nature, and their souls require community. We all seek to fulfill the desires of our deep seeded need of both expression, and reception. Extended periods of isolation creates insanity, not production. I was nearly ready to cut off my ear and call myself Van Gough, but instead, decided to go shopping at the local Dollar General....
You must keep in mind that I share yet another similarity of many of the great thinkers: no money.
But, I was running out of the necessities and had to get out. Surprisingly, the time spent inside of the store was extremely stimulating and exciting for me. I saw things through new eyes. I was fascinated. I looked at as many people and things as I could. I eagerly engaged conversation with many of the elderly individuals shopping there, along with me, out of necessity. I shook hands with men who spoke with me about their wives, children, grandchildren, and most importantly, their churches.
After about three hours in the store, I realized I was exhausted and purchased a little more than I had intended.....
I loaded my car, and slid into the driver's seat, put the key in the ignition, checked the cell phone for messages (none), and turned on some John Mayall to gain comfort for my soul. Mayall's various songs while soothe me, also illustrate his musical talents. I continue to be fascinated by his gifts.
In a flash of my life, I hear a blaring car horn that doesn't stop. I turn my head to the right and see a vehicle that had crashed into the side of the Dollar General Building.
I do not hesitate to get out of my car upon the realization that the smoke I see through the pouring rain is eminating from the car. I see a man assisting a woman out of the car. She can't stand up straight. She is falling, he is trying to keep her ambulatory, with little success.
I call 911. "We need an ambulance immediately! There has been an accident. A vehicle has crashed into the side of the building."
The operator responds, "Is there an injury?"
"YES! YES!" I respond.
I spent the next hour of my life on the accident scene instructing the woman to keep her eyes open, and to my horror, realize another vehicle was invovled and there were two other women trapped behind their aribags.
I yell at the first woman, "Stay with us! Stay with us! I have called the ambulance! Hear the sirens? They are on their way!"
I talked with the witnesses, the hurt people, the paramedics, the firemen, the police. Finally, I was released from the scene. Afterall, I did not see the accident happen.
I quietly walked away without notice. I was again alone, but this time, I knew why I was there. I had a purpose, regardless of how small it may seem.
Friday, February 24, 2006
Jewish Food Festival
This weekend, our city is hosting a Jewish Food Festival. If I have ever eaten Jewish food in my life, I am not sure that I realized that was the case.
Is there anybody in the world who could recommend what Jewish foods I should try, to optimize my dining pleasure? Or, should I just stay home???
I have no idea here, and any suggestions would be greatly appreciated.
Is there anybody in the world who could recommend what Jewish foods I should try, to optimize my dining pleasure? Or, should I just stay home???
I have no idea here, and any suggestions would be greatly appreciated.
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
KHARMA HAPPENS
Yeah, it is true. Kharma happens. So, let's think about all of the good things we have done in this life and all of the bad. Whew. Okay. I think about it often.......
The Bar Exam ended today. After two 1/2 grueling and exhausting days, I dare anybody to say anything to me. Glad I live alone these days! Otherwise, I would probably be in the process of doing so....
Monday morning was all state specific essay work. Although you get to write your answers in these booklets you are given, there never seems to be enough space, and I am left handed. I am accustomed to printing my words....Anyway, I wrote front and back of the pages with my answers and got down to the last page. There is no way to really allow anybody to understand what type of serious challenge this is, unless you have participated in attempting to say what you have to say in limited time and space. (I hate restrictions...)
Oh, I just had an idea, maybe I am living on the wrong plane. The Valedictorian of one of the local, private high schools (that professes to have 100% college placement-the high school not the guy), ended up being a buddy of mine in college. We knew each other briefly in high school, and even less in college, but that is another story. Anyway, one day I just asked him what it was like to be so smart?! I was like, "Man, do you even know how brilliant you are?" He never studied. He never had to, and was a member of Mensa. I never even heard of Mensa until I met him....
Basically, he informed me that I should try acid. "It puts you on an entirely new plane." He informed me. WHA????
Okay, I never did acid. Maybe that is what is wrong with me now. Just kidding. The concept, however, perplexes me to this day.
Back to my original train of thought. Sorry.
Anyway, I wrote so much on Monday, and in alot of ways, it was a great feeling, to realize that you can write so much about the law. Afterall, it has not been an easy road for me to get here, and as far as the bar exam goes, it ain't my first dance, if you catch my drift. It was great to expel all of the information about legal theories that had been clogging up my brain for all of these months...
So, the day was fairly fine, and then, I went and hung out some Monday afternoon, reviewing my notes, but at the same time, trying to maintain calmness. Took the dog for a walk, and caught up on doing laundry, etc. (I know, strange, but doing laundry really makes me feel kind of good.)
Then, before I realized it, I was scrubbing little tiles on my bathroom floor, (by hand). Obsessive? Maybe.....I couldn't help it, I simply got caught up in scrubbing things around the apartment!!! I started washing down the cabinets.......
To be honest, the cleaning got a little out of hand, but that is not really interesting....
Okay, then, after I finally got to sleep that night, after studying for a few more hours, I was very rudely awakened by a booming male voice outside of my apartment. (No, it wasn't anybody for me...)
By the way, I don't live in a bad area of town, but things get crazy here sometimes, because it is sort of a college type neighborhood....(I wanted to feel young again, so I moved to this side of town last year.) You have to take the good with the bad, you know.
Anyway, so this dude, who is in a band that plays raggae, which is really very cool, in my opinion, was in the hallway yelling at his girlfriend. He was, very surprisingly, DRUNK!!!!
I opened my front door to just check on her on one hand, and on another hand to subtly REMIND them that I am in the middle of taking the bar exam, not drinking at the bar!
NOT that many people really care, especially when they are drunk. I realize this.
So...at about 1:30 a.m., after I asked if things were okay, he proceeded to insult a part of my body, and categorized me in a generally non-friendly way.
All I could say, at the top of my lungs, is "Oh HELL NO, you DIDN'T JUST GO THERE WITH ME."
So, I threatened jail time, and things got quiet again.
I try to be cool most of the time, and understand....because I have been young once, and I have been drunk once.....
But, this was not the time to be messing with me.
I had to get up really early the next morning, or late, as the case had it, and fought the rain and fog AND traffic across town to the testing center, which happened to ironically be in a church.....
So, I want to know what happens when you get about 500 lawyer wanna be's in a church all at one time..
Okay, Okay. Let's be nice....
The next day was to be a full 6 hours full of essays. Don't be fooled when I tell you that there were only six questions....There is a thing called "subparts".
I was signing in and I passed this guy sitting in his seat, early and obviously extremely nervous (his knuckels were very white), and he had about twenty gel writers lined up right in a row, on his table. I had two pens. I said, "Hey man, we know who to go to if we run out of ink."
I must admit the night before, I took my gel writers apart in order to check the ink...He responded, "You know it is your worst nightmare, running out of ink in the middle of the bar exam."
We shared a brief laugh, and then, I smiled for about the next ten minutes, worrying about his future as a lawyer, so nervous like that going into a courtroom. I surmized that experience would give him his first heart attack.
So, to make a long story, even longer...
In the middle of the second hour, I ran out of ink in my first pen. I AM NOT KIDDING YOU.....So, I briefly panicked and then patted myself on my back, figuratively, for brining a back up. I began writing with my backup pen, and the ink appeared to be in the pen, but nothing came out. I was scratching my answer. Oh man.
And, keep in mind, you just can't go up to somebody and ask to borrow a pen during the exam. You have to ask your proctor.
He supplied me with a crappy little pen that didn't write very nicely either, but at least you could see some semblance of ink...
I was so upset, but I continued to write.
My plan for lunch that day became a mission to go find a replacement ink pen "cartridge" since I could not eat. (I haven't eaten a meal in the past month and can't even remember what it was.) My diet has been abruptly changed to "safe foods", granola bars and crackers, oh and Sprite.
Okay. So, I go to Walgreens to find this ink pen cartridge....Come to find out, they don't carry them. Not just the one to fit in my pen, but not at all. Pencil leads, yeah. Hundreds of them.
Broke as I am these days, it is quite significant. In fact, I haven't even had any fancy coffees in weeks....other than real coffee, which I do love by the way.
The remaining experience followed the same, and then, at the end of my second day, my shoulders and back hurt so bad that I had to make an emergency call to my chiropractor. Thankfully, he is a wonderful man, and was happy to see me, even though I didn't have an appointment. I got an adjustment, and started crying in his office, telling him that he was the only person who made me feel special these days and that I really appreciated him. (Oh my goodness.)
I was in desparate need of Advil today. In fact, my head was pounding so hard, I figured everybody in the testing area could hear the throb or see my veins popping out of my head. I started talking to a girl I don't know and said, "Hey, would you happen to know anybody who might have an Advil or something?" I felt like a drug dealer. I am not really accustomed to asking people for things like that, but...I was really in serious peril.
It just so happens, she actually had some, so she hooked me up with some Advil Sinus, and I had to ask, "It is not nighttime, is it?" Well, DUH! She is right there with me taking the same test.
I felt really great about my Kharma at that moment, because as soon as I swallowed those two magic little pills, the headache dissipated and the day somehow came to an end.
Whew. I am really exhausted. Gotta get some sleep!
Besides that, I can't feel two fingers and my thumb on my right hand. Gotta go see the chiro again tomorrow...At least he will be nice.
The Bar Exam ended today. After two 1/2 grueling and exhausting days, I dare anybody to say anything to me. Glad I live alone these days! Otherwise, I would probably be in the process of doing so....
Monday morning was all state specific essay work. Although you get to write your answers in these booklets you are given, there never seems to be enough space, and I am left handed. I am accustomed to printing my words....Anyway, I wrote front and back of the pages with my answers and got down to the last page. There is no way to really allow anybody to understand what type of serious challenge this is, unless you have participated in attempting to say what you have to say in limited time and space. (I hate restrictions...)
Oh, I just had an idea, maybe I am living on the wrong plane. The Valedictorian of one of the local, private high schools (that professes to have 100% college placement-the high school not the guy), ended up being a buddy of mine in college. We knew each other briefly in high school, and even less in college, but that is another story. Anyway, one day I just asked him what it was like to be so smart?! I was like, "Man, do you even know how brilliant you are?" He never studied. He never had to, and was a member of Mensa. I never even heard of Mensa until I met him....
Basically, he informed me that I should try acid. "It puts you on an entirely new plane." He informed me. WHA????
Okay, I never did acid. Maybe that is what is wrong with me now. Just kidding. The concept, however, perplexes me to this day.
Back to my original train of thought. Sorry.
Anyway, I wrote so much on Monday, and in alot of ways, it was a great feeling, to realize that you can write so much about the law. Afterall, it has not been an easy road for me to get here, and as far as the bar exam goes, it ain't my first dance, if you catch my drift. It was great to expel all of the information about legal theories that had been clogging up my brain for all of these months...
So, the day was fairly fine, and then, I went and hung out some Monday afternoon, reviewing my notes, but at the same time, trying to maintain calmness. Took the dog for a walk, and caught up on doing laundry, etc. (I know, strange, but doing laundry really makes me feel kind of good.)
Then, before I realized it, I was scrubbing little tiles on my bathroom floor, (by hand). Obsessive? Maybe.....I couldn't help it, I simply got caught up in scrubbing things around the apartment!!! I started washing down the cabinets.......
To be honest, the cleaning got a little out of hand, but that is not really interesting....
Okay, then, after I finally got to sleep that night, after studying for a few more hours, I was very rudely awakened by a booming male voice outside of my apartment. (No, it wasn't anybody for me...)
By the way, I don't live in a bad area of town, but things get crazy here sometimes, because it is sort of a college type neighborhood....(I wanted to feel young again, so I moved to this side of town last year.) You have to take the good with the bad, you know.
Anyway, so this dude, who is in a band that plays raggae, which is really very cool, in my opinion, was in the hallway yelling at his girlfriend. He was, very surprisingly, DRUNK!!!!
I opened my front door to just check on her on one hand, and on another hand to subtly REMIND them that I am in the middle of taking the bar exam, not drinking at the bar!
NOT that many people really care, especially when they are drunk. I realize this.
So...at about 1:30 a.m., after I asked if things were okay, he proceeded to insult a part of my body, and categorized me in a generally non-friendly way.
All I could say, at the top of my lungs, is "Oh HELL NO, you DIDN'T JUST GO THERE WITH ME."
So, I threatened jail time, and things got quiet again.
I try to be cool most of the time, and understand....because I have been young once, and I have been drunk once.....
But, this was not the time to be messing with me.
I had to get up really early the next morning, or late, as the case had it, and fought the rain and fog AND traffic across town to the testing center, which happened to ironically be in a church.....
So, I want to know what happens when you get about 500 lawyer wanna be's in a church all at one time..
Okay, Okay. Let's be nice....
The next day was to be a full 6 hours full of essays. Don't be fooled when I tell you that there were only six questions....There is a thing called "subparts".
I was signing in and I passed this guy sitting in his seat, early and obviously extremely nervous (his knuckels were very white), and he had about twenty gel writers lined up right in a row, on his table. I had two pens. I said, "Hey man, we know who to go to if we run out of ink."
I must admit the night before, I took my gel writers apart in order to check the ink...He responded, "You know it is your worst nightmare, running out of ink in the middle of the bar exam."
We shared a brief laugh, and then, I smiled for about the next ten minutes, worrying about his future as a lawyer, so nervous like that going into a courtroom. I surmized that experience would give him his first heart attack.
So, to make a long story, even longer...
In the middle of the second hour, I ran out of ink in my first pen. I AM NOT KIDDING YOU.....So, I briefly panicked and then patted myself on my back, figuratively, for brining a back up. I began writing with my backup pen, and the ink appeared to be in the pen, but nothing came out. I was scratching my answer. Oh man.
And, keep in mind, you just can't go up to somebody and ask to borrow a pen during the exam. You have to ask your proctor.
He supplied me with a crappy little pen that didn't write very nicely either, but at least you could see some semblance of ink...
I was so upset, but I continued to write.
My plan for lunch that day became a mission to go find a replacement ink pen "cartridge" since I could not eat. (I haven't eaten a meal in the past month and can't even remember what it was.) My diet has been abruptly changed to "safe foods", granola bars and crackers, oh and Sprite.
Okay. So, I go to Walgreens to find this ink pen cartridge....Come to find out, they don't carry them. Not just the one to fit in my pen, but not at all. Pencil leads, yeah. Hundreds of them.
Broke as I am these days, it is quite significant. In fact, I haven't even had any fancy coffees in weeks....other than real coffee, which I do love by the way.
The remaining experience followed the same, and then, at the end of my second day, my shoulders and back hurt so bad that I had to make an emergency call to my chiropractor. Thankfully, he is a wonderful man, and was happy to see me, even though I didn't have an appointment. I got an adjustment, and started crying in his office, telling him that he was the only person who made me feel special these days and that I really appreciated him. (Oh my goodness.)
I was in desparate need of Advil today. In fact, my head was pounding so hard, I figured everybody in the testing area could hear the throb or see my veins popping out of my head. I started talking to a girl I don't know and said, "Hey, would you happen to know anybody who might have an Advil or something?" I felt like a drug dealer. I am not really accustomed to asking people for things like that, but...I was really in serious peril.
It just so happens, she actually had some, so she hooked me up with some Advil Sinus, and I had to ask, "It is not nighttime, is it?" Well, DUH! She is right there with me taking the same test.
I felt really great about my Kharma at that moment, because as soon as I swallowed those two magic little pills, the headache dissipated and the day somehow came to an end.
Whew. I am really exhausted. Gotta get some sleep!
Besides that, I can't feel two fingers and my thumb on my right hand. Gotta go see the chiro again tomorrow...At least he will be nice.
Monday, February 20, 2006
Just a Yankee Living In The South
I don't tell many people that I am from Ohio. I don't know why it doesn't come up too often, but sometimes it might explain why I am the way I am.
How am I? You may ask.
Somehow, just different......
Don't get me wrong, I have embraced the "Southern Way". In fact, I have the accent to prove it! This is one of the first lessons that I learned when I moved here: "If it looks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, then it has to be assumed that it is a duck." So to speak.
One thing that I have noticed is my attitude about unions. I have never worked for a union, in fact, I have worked for places that post warnings of what to do if you are approached by a union official. The instructions were in bold and said, "We are not affiliated with a union. If you are asked to join a union, seek out a manager and report the incident IMMEDIATELY."
I have family members who have worked for union supported industries for years, and have reaped benefits as a result. The only drawback I have seen is that if the company you work for goes on strike, and you don't cross the picket line, you don't get paid and you of course, cannot work. Realistically, if you have to make a living to either support yourself, or your children, you could be in a pickle.
My take on unions is that they serve their purpose. Now, the affiliation with organized crime does concern me a little bit, well, for my family members who belong to a union. I have visions of riots, and the appearance of Haffa, but come on...this is quite an impossible realization, isn't it?
Unions have one goal that appeals to me, protection of the worker. Have you ever been fired? Just told one day "It is not working out, sorry." I have to say that experience makes you feel like the floor beneath you has just collapsed. Yeah, I have worked for some pretty sorry folks. You get a huge bonus one week, and the next week, you are sent packing. No thanks. Keep your stupid bonus and just be straight with me. Tell me what is on your mind. What is bothering you? I know that I am a hard worker, but for some reason I tend to drive managers bonkers.
Why? I guess I have to admit that I am a little gruff. If something is on my mind, I say it, most of the time. One time, a manager told me that he did not like the expression on my face. This same manager again, a few weeks later, began yelling uncontrollably. I thought he was going to have a heart attack as a result of the level of stress he was obviously experiencing. While I was focusing on how to determine the very moment I would have to dial 911, he started yelling at me because I wasn't crying. Crying? Are you kidding me? You are about to have a meltdown, about I don't even know what, and you are mad because I am not crying? I cry at sad movies, when I fall down and skin my knee. I don't cry when you are making yourself look like a fool.
I don't date well. What I mean by this is that when I am thinking something, oftentimes, I say it. If you are an idiot, I guess I will tell you. I don't really care if you don't like what I have to say. So, just give me a good book, and leave me alone.
Being alone is not so bad. I don't have to deal with the mental game playing that I have discovered many men enjoy playing. Example, I say, " Oh, I love that song." He changes the station. I dress in slacks to go with him to his parent's house. He says, "Why don't you just wear blue jeans like the rest of us?" I say, "Buy me a pair that fits me." He says, "We are going to dinner, so please be cool." I say, "Cool is my middle name." And, then, I grab the napkin and tuck it in my shirt at the table. Hey, it keeps food from messing up my outfit. Get a clue.
How am I? You may ask.
Somehow, just different......
Don't get me wrong, I have embraced the "Southern Way". In fact, I have the accent to prove it! This is one of the first lessons that I learned when I moved here: "If it looks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, then it has to be assumed that it is a duck." So to speak.
One thing that I have noticed is my attitude about unions. I have never worked for a union, in fact, I have worked for places that post warnings of what to do if you are approached by a union official. The instructions were in bold and said, "We are not affiliated with a union. If you are asked to join a union, seek out a manager and report the incident IMMEDIATELY."
I have family members who have worked for union supported industries for years, and have reaped benefits as a result. The only drawback I have seen is that if the company you work for goes on strike, and you don't cross the picket line, you don't get paid and you of course, cannot work. Realistically, if you have to make a living to either support yourself, or your children, you could be in a pickle.
My take on unions is that they serve their purpose. Now, the affiliation with organized crime does concern me a little bit, well, for my family members who belong to a union. I have visions of riots, and the appearance of Haffa, but come on...this is quite an impossible realization, isn't it?
Unions have one goal that appeals to me, protection of the worker. Have you ever been fired? Just told one day "It is not working out, sorry." I have to say that experience makes you feel like the floor beneath you has just collapsed. Yeah, I have worked for some pretty sorry folks. You get a huge bonus one week, and the next week, you are sent packing. No thanks. Keep your stupid bonus and just be straight with me. Tell me what is on your mind. What is bothering you? I know that I am a hard worker, but for some reason I tend to drive managers bonkers.
Why? I guess I have to admit that I am a little gruff. If something is on my mind, I say it, most of the time. One time, a manager told me that he did not like the expression on my face. This same manager again, a few weeks later, began yelling uncontrollably. I thought he was going to have a heart attack as a result of the level of stress he was obviously experiencing. While I was focusing on how to determine the very moment I would have to dial 911, he started yelling at me because I wasn't crying. Crying? Are you kidding me? You are about to have a meltdown, about I don't even know what, and you are mad because I am not crying? I cry at sad movies, when I fall down and skin my knee. I don't cry when you are making yourself look like a fool.
I don't date well. What I mean by this is that when I am thinking something, oftentimes, I say it. If you are an idiot, I guess I will tell you. I don't really care if you don't like what I have to say. So, just give me a good book, and leave me alone.
Being alone is not so bad. I don't have to deal with the mental game playing that I have discovered many men enjoy playing. Example, I say, " Oh, I love that song." He changes the station. I dress in slacks to go with him to his parent's house. He says, "Why don't you just wear blue jeans like the rest of us?" I say, "Buy me a pair that fits me." He says, "We are going to dinner, so please be cool." I say, "Cool is my middle name." And, then, I grab the napkin and tuck it in my shirt at the table. Hey, it keeps food from messing up my outfit. Get a clue.
Sunday, February 19, 2006
MONEY
MONEY. Nobody has enough of it. I need more of it. How about you? I could use some today, that is for sure. Why? I could find a good use for it. I would love to eat a filet mignon. Too bad. Not today. A filet will have to be eaten another day.
MONEY. Don't misunderstand....money is not the root of all evil. The LOVE of money is the root of all evil and will surely land your soul in hell for all eternity. I learned this from a t.v. evangelist that I happened upon the other day. Suddenly, my guilty feelings associated to the greenbacks subsided. I know that I have read it in the Bible, but just hearing it verbalized, makes such a stronger impact to me somehow.
So, how do I make more? Oh, and how to stop spending it?????
The people I know that actually do have "plenty" and even "enough" are extremely frugal. They respect it. My parents tried and tried my entire life to instill the characteristic of frugality:
"Turn off the lights!"
"Don't you touch that thermostat!"
"Close the door! Were you born in a barn?"
Kids, hear me now, your parents are not on the earth simply to harrass you. They are not dumb, or just trying to make your life a living hell; quite the contrary, they are trying to save you from yourself.
If I had only listened to what they were saying, instead of spending that time thinking up my own smart alec remarks, such as :
"What lights? I live in darkness."
"I am not touching it, I am just adjusting it so I don't freeze to death."
"I was too young to remember where I was born, although my birth certificate says Akron, Ohio; but Jesus was born in a manger, and I don't hear any complaints there."
I should have been slapped. I guess if my parents were terrible and had violent tempers, I would have been.......
I should have been slapped. I guess if my parents were terrible and had violent tempers, I would have been.......
Unfortunately, as I sit here alone in adulthood, I have to admit that I verbalized at least each of them....at least once. Mom, dad, I am sorry.
In conjunction with my parent's teachings and a hearty dose of reality (LIFE), my attitude has finally been adjusted.
No, money does not grow on trees, at least none that I can find anyway. There are even money trees, as my mother once taught me; however, they haven't solved my problems. I certainly checked out my secret hunch out though, (there had to be money somewhere as a result of that tree), as a youngster, I spent much of my spare time searching in vain for quarters (even pennies) on the ground beneath the tree. From time to time, I still sneak a peek beneath the ground hoping to find a dollar or two.
It happens to be that I have even gone as far as disgracing my parents with embarrassment and disdain when I pulled into their driveway shortly after the purchase of my very own BMW 328i, a couple of years ago....Okay! Okay! I know. STUPID purchase, and boy, what a mistake. Thankfully, I sold it (for a profit) to another sucker, hoping to find happiness with that horrible bundle of trouble.
In conjunction with my parent's teachings and a hearty dose of reality (LIFE), my attitude has finally been adjusted.
No, money does not grow on trees, at least none that I can find anyway. There are even money trees, as my mother once taught me; however, they haven't solved my problems. I certainly checked out my secret hunch out though, (there had to be money somewhere as a result of that tree), as a youngster, I spent much of my spare time searching in vain for quarters (even pennies) on the ground beneath the tree. From time to time, I still sneak a peek beneath the ground hoping to find a dollar or two.
It happens to be that I have even gone as far as disgracing my parents with embarrassment and disdain when I pulled into their driveway shortly after the purchase of my very own BMW 328i, a couple of years ago....Okay! Okay! I know. STUPID purchase, and boy, what a mistake. Thankfully, I sold it (for a profit) to another sucker, hoping to find happiness with that horrible bundle of trouble.
Mom, dad, you are right, you have always been right, and I am sorry.
Years after selling the Beemer, that didn't make me sexier, happier, or any of those things that I thought it would do, today, I find myself proudly shopping at the local Dollar store.
I have discovered the horrors of coming home after work to find that water does not just naturally disperse from the tap....that when the lights are not properly and promptly turned off when not in use, and you haven't paid that bill, they refuse to "light up your life". I have learned that cable t.v. is not a necessity, but a luxury. Telephones, well....you can live without them, believe it or not.
SOME OTHER HELPFUL HINTS: Toilet paper...can be purchased for about 60 cents from your local grocer, as long as you get the single ply, single role. As a single individual, that single roll can last a mighty long time, as long as you are frugal with the number of sheets you tear off at one sitting. The scratchiness, well....as is life, you just have to deal with it!
Years after selling the Beemer, that didn't make me sexier, happier, or any of those things that I thought it would do, today, I find myself proudly shopping at the local Dollar store.
I have discovered the horrors of coming home after work to find that water does not just naturally disperse from the tap....that when the lights are not properly and promptly turned off when not in use, and you haven't paid that bill, they refuse to "light up your life". I have learned that cable t.v. is not a necessity, but a luxury. Telephones, well....you can live without them, believe it or not.
SOME OTHER HELPFUL HINTS: Toilet paper...can be purchased for about 60 cents from your local grocer, as long as you get the single ply, single role. As a single individual, that single roll can last a mighty long time, as long as you are frugal with the number of sheets you tear off at one sitting. The scratchiness, well....as is life, you just have to deal with it!
Shirtsleeves can be used to wipe your nose, but just don't do it in public. (No, mom, I don't really do this.)
Gas stations do accept change, and who cares if the clerk smirks at you or becomes impatient. The people in line behind you can do one of two appropriate things, keep their mouths closed and be patient, or just say whatever they want to, and slip you a few bucks....
Saturday, February 18, 2006
Paris Hilton! YIKES!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Please tell me the attraction to this untalented, cover girl for anorexia!
If I hear somebody refering to Paris, it had better be the CITY and reference to The Eiffel Tower!!!!!!!!!!!!!
AM I HAVING A MELTDOWN?
Seriously, if anybody knows what men see in this chick, please let me know, as my friends and I are just curious.
If I hear somebody refering to Paris, it had better be the CITY and reference to The Eiffel Tower!!!!!!!!!!!!!
AM I HAVING A MELTDOWN?
Seriously, if anybody knows what men see in this chick, please let me know, as my friends and I are just curious.
Friday, February 17, 2006
FOCUS
"When you look at yourself from a universal standpoint, something inside always reminds or informs you that there are bigger and better things to worry about." -Albert Einstein
Albert Einstein was introduced to me on a hot summer day in my fourteenth year of life, during a visit to our nation's Capitol.
Sadly, I realized that shaking his hand and sitting down for coffee was an impossible dream!
However, I hear his voice in my mind loud and clear. On a clear day, I can even see him sitting on a bench in the park, slouched over, dressed in his slouchy sweatshirt, pipe hanging out of his mouth, furiously jotting down ideas on a tablet.
While in Washington D.C., many years ago, my uncle took my sister and me to visit the phenomenal statue in his honor. I distinctly remember it had been raining earlier that day, so my sister and I kicked off our shoes, and joyously splashed toward the magnificent copper replica of our hero. It was most impressing that this genius was memorialized dressed in his trademark baggy sweatshirt, and tussled white hair. http://www.planetware.com/picture/washington-d-c-/washington-albert-einstein-memorial-us-dcae.htm
Was Einstein a sad man? My sister and I took turns climbing up into his cold, hollow, copper lap. "He looks sad." I said. As long as I live, I will never forget that day, the pure joy I felt, with my sister and uncle, face to face with the man responsible for the birth of atomic energy.
Can you believe that Einstein lived most of his life broke and hungry? Money did not mean much to him. He was engrossed in work. He was Focused.
Like most Americans, I measure success by my possessions. I sadly attempt to balance the checkbook and recall the theory I learned in math class long ago: "a million times zero, equals zero." Wow, out of all theories I learned.....it had to be this one that applies to my life!!!
I am honored to be admitted to the February Bar Exam, which begins on Monday. The test is a marathon...a test of your will.....a test that will engage everything you may have in your brain until 5:00 p.m. on Wednesday afternoon.
I personally have invested many years of my life preparing to pass the bar exam. Unlike Einstein, money does mean something to me and so far, I haven't made much.......
When I was in high school, I ran hurdles. My left lead leg had to clear the bar while my right leg was tucked tightly behind my hip. Of course, I hit the bar over and over again, and of course, fell and knocked over more hurdles than I can recall. After each humiliating fall, I pulled my body up and away from the asphalt, overcame the embarrassment of the failure, stretched the legs out and ran the hurdles again and again. I was physically prepared to clear any and all hurdles. My enemy was my own thoughts and the doubt of my abilities that caused my falls. I know that now. I lacked FOCUS.
Einstein once was rejected from a college, [due to deficiencies in languages and the natural sciences] (People: A History of Our Time).....He regrouped, and proceeded with his life, continuing to progress the various theories that essentially changed the world. He FOCUSED. Einstein was not the type of man who was interested in gaining money, or recognition. He was interested in solving problems, and unlocking the mysteries of life.
Today, I spent many hours of my life concentraing on pointing my left toe. I tucked my right leg tightly under my right hip. I ran, jumped and cleared not one, but all of the tall hurdles. I felt the total and complete satisfaction of flying through the air, as far as I wanted to go.....I must admit, it felt GREAT!
The test is Monday. Today, I closed my eyes, and I saw myself opening the letter congratulating me....taking the oath to uphold the Constitution of the United States, and promising to respect justice. I visualized the day that is long awaited, and saw myself proudly walk to the front of the auditorium to receive my license to practice law. I was born to change the world. All it takes is a little bit of FOCUS.
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Valentine's Day
Well, I am duly impressed. My dad out-did himself, in his BLOG, entitled "Valentine's Day", and discussed, of course, my dear, sweet, loving mother (mom, honestly, this is satire, I promise).......Forever prolific, Dad sneaks in his innate scholarly approach to this nauseatingly mushy holiday tribute, and gives readers some excellent tips on marriage.
Dad shares his wisdom and thoughtfully includes a handy:
I truly felt sentimental pangs about his tribute to a specific and memorable past "holiday" gift my father proudly presented to his bride. "THE SAW", I will call it. I remember the day that he bravely and proudly presented to my mother a token of his love and what I feel I must admit to be an illustration of a moment of pure insanity! What was he THINKING????
More frighteningly, she LOVED it. (Fodder for an upcoming CSI episode, I am afraid).
Hey, wait a minute! Although, I realize he purchased the saw for her on a Valentine's Day gone by, I have to wonder if this was no more than his ultimately morbid attempt at becoming famous (or infamous). Once I do a little investigating into what he gave her today, I will have a better idea of what is going on in this family I proudly call my own. Does he want to be featured on "Nancy Grace"?
I hope that he is NOT tempting fate, or more likely testing some crazed scientific experiment in human nature and family relations all in an attempt to simply prove some theory.
I hope he did not accidentally read the wrong experiment notes and mistakenly turn to the pages about testing the theory that "Hell Hath No Fury As A Woman Scorned"....
Some days, I wonder if my mother or my father are feeling scorned or maybe just generally irritated. Maybe it is only when I show up to visit??? Hmmmm.......
I am still quite upset that I require the employ of a Wind-Talker when trying to figure out the shopping list on the chalkboard. What is going on over there, anyway? I am terrified to discover the truth.......
You see, both of my parents, and, come to think of it, frighteningly, my siblings all enjoy viewing a wide variety of freaky, bloody, and gory, bizzare movies that attempt to scare the beejeebies out of the innocent viewer (my family refers to these movies as "CLASSICS"). (Thankfully, I escaped any real psychological damage as a result of the exposure!)
Be careful gentlemen shoppers!!! Please, Please, heed my advice:
Consider this: THOUGH it IS true, chocolate is loaded with enough calories and fat to, ah...how to put this gently...to enhance your wife's profile....you will probably be a happier man purchasing a lovely assortment of candy!
Now, enough of that, and down to some personal business, "Honey, WHERE'S MY CANDY BAR???"
Oops! I forgot.........not married.....
Dad shares his wisdom and thoughtfully includes a handy:
"Gift Giving Guide To Your Spouse Of 30+/-Years".
I truly felt sentimental pangs about his tribute to a specific and memorable past "holiday" gift my father proudly presented to his bride. "THE SAW", I will call it. I remember the day that he bravely and proudly presented to my mother a token of his love and what I feel I must admit to be an illustration of a moment of pure insanity! What was he THINKING????
More frighteningly, she LOVED it. (Fodder for an upcoming CSI episode, I am afraid).
Hey, wait a minute! Although, I realize he purchased the saw for her on a Valentine's Day gone by, I have to wonder if this was no more than his ultimately morbid attempt at becoming famous (or infamous). Once I do a little investigating into what he gave her today, I will have a better idea of what is going on in this family I proudly call my own. Does he want to be featured on "Nancy Grace"?
I hope that he is NOT tempting fate, or more likely testing some crazed scientific experiment in human nature and family relations all in an attempt to simply prove some theory.
I hope he did not accidentally read the wrong experiment notes and mistakenly turn to the pages about testing the theory that "Hell Hath No Fury As A Woman Scorned"....
Some days, I wonder if my mother or my father are feeling scorned or maybe just generally irritated. Maybe it is only when I show up to visit??? Hmmmm.......
I am still quite upset that I require the employ of a Wind-Talker when trying to figure out the shopping list on the chalkboard. What is going on over there, anyway? I am terrified to discover the truth.......
You see, both of my parents, and, come to think of it, frighteningly, my siblings all enjoy viewing a wide variety of freaky, bloody, and gory, bizzare movies that attempt to scare the beejeebies out of the innocent viewer (my family refers to these movies as "CLASSICS"). (Thankfully, I escaped any real psychological damage as a result of the exposure!)
Be careful gentlemen shoppers!!! Please, Please, heed my advice:
Consider this: THOUGH it IS true, chocolate is loaded with enough calories and fat to, ah...how to put this gently...to enhance your wife's profile....you will probably be a happier man purchasing a lovely assortment of candy!
Now, enough of that, and down to some personal business, "Honey, WHERE'S MY CANDY BAR???"
Oops! I forgot.........not married.....
Saturday, February 11, 2006
More Musings
At 3:11 a.m., I would like to formally thank my favorite local coffee shop for this insomnia.....with all of my heart...
......in addition to all of the donations from depths of my chronically empty pocket book.
Speaking of the coffee shop.....my study coach, (who happens to be a lawyer) met me at our local "watering hole" last week. (As I said before, it is a lifestyle, comparable to the tag on my formerly charged, once expensive and stylish suit coupled with the lingering scent of, again, formerly charged, expensive perfume). I have to sadly admit that our support is growing into the obscene average of three or four times a week these days....wonder if we can appear on the show "Intervention"? I can visualize my thirty minute episode and me on my knees, begging, "please forgive me, I was just an addict...I didn't even realize what I was doing." By the way, where is the COFFEE in my sweet, caramel, espresso treat, anyway?
Something slightly notable actually occured to us last week at the coffee shop. We were minding our own business, scoping out our choice of unsuspecting men (hopefully single, yes, and wealthy). While slurping down my fix, I observed that neither my friend nor I could resist the subtle magnetic pull of a not overly attractive, yet familiar man on the bench, scanning a paper, over by the window. Who is he, anyway?
His poised, rehearsed presentation demanded our glances, as he commenced to capture the subtle attention of other customers in the shop. I even caught some of the employees eyeballing him.
I afforded the vaguely familiar, mystery man in the room, a yawn and intentional, unimpressed glance. He was blatantly awaiting "adoring" fans. Frankly, I personally wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of acknowledgement. Give me a break, I wasn't even sure who he was. You do have to consider those people in the world who simply resemble notable, famous and quasi-famous people. Was he a news anchor?
I found myself momentarily tempted to submit to my curiousity; however, I opted out. I noticed he wasn't eating or drinking anything!
The next morning, while driving to the office, it HIT me....the man was one of our quite recent, former public officials! Not only that..he is running again this year. Wait a minute, could he have been trying to get votes? Surely not. Please, please call his campaign manager..this will not get him back in office.
.....the tragedy of the uneventful, yet somewhat mind-warping, "quasi-brush with fame" is that by the time both of us (coach) were born, the residue of the smoke filled rooms from the '60's had subsided. What luck, eh? Here it is, the truth, and I gotta say it..... our fuzzy head syndrome is resulting from the massive caffeine consumption. Oh yeah.
Okay, okay, before I sign off today, I want to briefly revisit my former post. I previously suggested that our nation consider the implementation of public hangings. The observation was simply intended to explore the possibilty of utilizing our state-funded executions in a public forum..deterrence could become reality.
Beccaria once said, "It is better to prevent crimes than to punish them."
I am leaving you with a link to yet another addiction of mine, the Nancy Grace show: http://www.cnn.com/CNN/Programs/nancy.grace/
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
A Day In The Life of "A Lawyer To Be"
What is today? I mean, what day of the week? What is the date? I am lost. Will I ever be found? I am not too sure.
My head is full of useless information. Let me take that back, it is filled with information only useful on the upcoming Bar Exam, which is in less than two weeks.
Don't ask me my name, where I live, what I drive, my dog's name, my parent's names....and don't even ask me for my rank and serial number. Upon the moment a brave soul inquires as to any of the information formerly cited, I am liable to flip out. (Have you ever seen anybody flip out before? Well.....I promise, I can do a good illustration. Been there, done that.)
This morning, I awoke at a somewhat normal hour, about 9:00 a.m., I believe. Not really sure. I got to bed early last night, well...uh...earlier than usual on this abnormal study, no work, and minimal play schedule.
I began the day with reviewing all of the material that came in my admissions packet. For those of you who do not know what I am talking about....(all of you non-lawyers out there)......it is a packet that provides the test taker with their secret number and admission certificate, which has to be presented each time you enter the testing facility.
The notes told me the expected schedule and I found our that the first day of testing is only 1/2 day. Whew!!!! But, then I began to review the subjects that will be tested and whether they will be in essay format or what I like to refer to as "choose it or lose it". By the way, I personally HATE the multiple-choice format, which is also the multi-state format. (That means, the questions are supposed to be universal-not state specific.)
The entire law school and subsequent bar exam process reminds me of learning and speaking a foreign language. It is just so...."foreign".
Hey,honestly, it has taken me just about six months to understand the whole "coffee lingo", or what others like to call "style of living" code at my local coffee house. (I feel like I need a windtalker there to help me de-code). After numerous, unsuccessful, blustering attempts, I have learned what I am supposed to say in order to get what I want.
These days, I confidently lean out my car window and speak fluent coffee lingo into the drive-up microphone:
"Yes, I would like a Venti (good bar exam term), Caramel Machiato, extra Espresso, extra syrup, add whip (never add "cream"-they will realize you are secretly not cool), please."
My goodness, who invented this language? How about just asking for a "legal stimulant, with extra runny sugar, a little spice and everything nice."
Oh, and one shan't forget "make it hot and not frozen."
Heaven forbid you ask for a "large", because you will indelibly get a "small" coffee. Oh, and by the way, is there really coffee in these drinks? Come to think of it, when I place an order, I don't recognize a single word that resembles "coffee".
Okay, moving on.... This morning, I will admit, I began to weep. I did not just tear up, and I did not cry, I began weeping. Why? I don't know. My mom would say, "Oh, stop feeling sorry for yourself." I guess that I had an epiphany that I NEED to work. I guess I know now why there is a show called Desperate Housewives. If I was a house-wife, I would desperately be trying to find a job, so I could get out of the house! Honestly, I have a new found respect for those women who are housewives. I don't know how they manage.
Since I chronically and acutely broke, the lack of finances leave me with very limited choices as to how to spend my time. (Although, I did manage to get some "coffee". Afterall, I thought it might cheer me up.) My choices today were to either go to the library, another depressing room with four walls to look at, stay at home and look at the four walls coming in on me here, or hey....wait a minute!---GO TO WORK!
I am so excited! I went to the office today. Ah, I was so joyously HAPPY to be in my office again, sitting at my desk, talking on my phone, working on my computer. Reviewing cases!! Wow. I was so happy! When 5:00 rolled around, I did not even realize that it was time to leave.
Okay, am I sick , twisted, or what? Who in a million years would do what I insanely did? Go to work when you don't have to? I decided to make some calls to people running for office this year. We are, as a firm, examining some of the political options since this is an election year. I talked to some folks, and asked them to drop by the office to let us know about their campaigns. I called up some buddies of mine on that "circuit" and chatted it up. I was happy to do it! I am excited about what can be achieved this year. The phone calls truly got my blood pumping! Honestly, I am in my element when I talk politics. It is something that at times I am frustrated by, but afterall, that is what gets things done in this town. I was, afterall, a poly-sci major. In fact, it was assumed by my friends that I was preparing to go to law school....enough people started talking to me about it, that I decided to check it out.
Currenlty, I am back at home, my loyal dog curled up by my side, as I am consumed with reviewing notes for about the zillionth time, and wanting to barf every time I look at the material.
My only saving grace is this Jimi Hendrix: Band of Gypsies, DVD playing vintage concert footage, and I become one with the astounding harmony that can tame the surliest of beasts.
My head is full of useless information. Let me take that back, it is filled with information only useful on the upcoming Bar Exam, which is in less than two weeks.
Don't ask me my name, where I live, what I drive, my dog's name, my parent's names....and don't even ask me for my rank and serial number. Upon the moment a brave soul inquires as to any of the information formerly cited, I am liable to flip out. (Have you ever seen anybody flip out before? Well.....I promise, I can do a good illustration. Been there, done that.)
This morning, I awoke at a somewhat normal hour, about 9:00 a.m., I believe. Not really sure. I got to bed early last night, well...uh...earlier than usual on this abnormal study, no work, and minimal play schedule.
I began the day with reviewing all of the material that came in my admissions packet. For those of you who do not know what I am talking about....(all of you non-lawyers out there)......it is a packet that provides the test taker with their secret number and admission certificate, which has to be presented each time you enter the testing facility.
The notes told me the expected schedule and I found our that the first day of testing is only 1/2 day. Whew!!!! But, then I began to review the subjects that will be tested and whether they will be in essay format or what I like to refer to as "choose it or lose it". By the way, I personally HATE the multiple-choice format, which is also the multi-state format. (That means, the questions are supposed to be universal-not state specific.)
The entire law school and subsequent bar exam process reminds me of learning and speaking a foreign language. It is just so...."foreign".
Hey,honestly, it has taken me just about six months to understand the whole "coffee lingo", or what others like to call "style of living" code at my local coffee house. (I feel like I need a windtalker there to help me de-code). After numerous, unsuccessful, blustering attempts, I have learned what I am supposed to say in order to get what I want.
These days, I confidently lean out my car window and speak fluent coffee lingo into the drive-up microphone:
"Yes, I would like a Venti (good bar exam term), Caramel Machiato, extra Espresso, extra syrup, add whip (never add "cream"-they will realize you are secretly not cool), please."
My goodness, who invented this language? How about just asking for a "legal stimulant, with extra runny sugar, a little spice and everything nice."
Oh, and one shan't forget "make it hot and not frozen."
Heaven forbid you ask for a "large", because you will indelibly get a "small" coffee. Oh, and by the way, is there really coffee in these drinks? Come to think of it, when I place an order, I don't recognize a single word that resembles "coffee".
Okay, moving on.... This morning, I will admit, I began to weep. I did not just tear up, and I did not cry, I began weeping. Why? I don't know. My mom would say, "Oh, stop feeling sorry for yourself." I guess that I had an epiphany that I NEED to work. I guess I know now why there is a show called Desperate Housewives. If I was a house-wife, I would desperately be trying to find a job, so I could get out of the house! Honestly, I have a new found respect for those women who are housewives. I don't know how they manage.
Since I chronically and acutely broke, the lack of finances leave me with very limited choices as to how to spend my time. (Although, I did manage to get some "coffee". Afterall, I thought it might cheer me up.) My choices today were to either go to the library, another depressing room with four walls to look at, stay at home and look at the four walls coming in on me here, or hey....wait a minute!---GO TO WORK!
I am so excited! I went to the office today. Ah, I was so joyously HAPPY to be in my office again, sitting at my desk, talking on my phone, working on my computer. Reviewing cases!! Wow. I was so happy! When 5:00 rolled around, I did not even realize that it was time to leave.
Okay, am I sick , twisted, or what? Who in a million years would do what I insanely did? Go to work when you don't have to? I decided to make some calls to people running for office this year. We are, as a firm, examining some of the political options since this is an election year. I talked to some folks, and asked them to drop by the office to let us know about their campaigns. I called up some buddies of mine on that "circuit" and chatted it up. I was happy to do it! I am excited about what can be achieved this year. The phone calls truly got my blood pumping! Honestly, I am in my element when I talk politics. It is something that at times I am frustrated by, but afterall, that is what gets things done in this town. I was, afterall, a poly-sci major. In fact, it was assumed by my friends that I was preparing to go to law school....enough people started talking to me about it, that I decided to check it out.
Currenlty, I am back at home, my loyal dog curled up by my side, as I am consumed with reviewing notes for about the zillionth time, and wanting to barf every time I look at the material.
My only saving grace is this Jimi Hendrix: Band of Gypsies, DVD playing vintage concert footage, and I become one with the astounding harmony that can tame the surliest of beasts.
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Prison Overcrowding
My favorite comment about lawyers comes from Shakespeare, when Henry VI says, "The first thing we do, is kill all the lawyers." Listen, I am here to tell you, we are not all that bad. And, realize we can quickly become your very best friend and trust me, from experience I know this is true: the most called person when you are in a pickle or just locked up and bored.
I must confess that I personally have yet to earn a very significant piece of paper, actually the most important one of all (my license), yeah, I know....But, I served my time, and survived law school, i.e. "boot camp", and I serve clients every day, assisting the lawyers I work for and helping those accused.Okay, enough of that. The title of this Blog is "Prison Overcrowding".
What can the future hold for management of the incarcerated? Now, every person I have ever confronted sitting on the other side of the bars from me, tells me that they "didn't do it". Okay, Okay, I don't care! I am not the judge or the jury! My concern is what to do with the ever growing population in the prison system.
I am very depressed about this significant problem that doesn't get the attention it needs.I will disclose this fact to you.....I was a Clinton supporter, and I think, supporter or not, we can all agree that he did ALOT while he was in office. I respect his intellect and appreciate many things he accomplished in office. And, although, for the time being, disbarred, he is still an extremely busy man....Let's face it, the man makes more money at one speaking engagement these days than I will every earn in my entire life. But, please tell me this, isn't he the one who came up with the "three strikes, you're out" policy? MANDATORY SENTENCING-My response? "Yikes!!!!!!"In theory, mandatory sentencing is great, for those of us who are not supporters of violent crime. I bet that you have unfortunately either have been a victim of crime, ....or, you know somebody who has.
What ever happened to public hangings? I think that a couple of those would shake things up. Don't you think that people might stop and think before they leave the house to go kill somebody? I really don't know anymore, truth be told. I think that too many people snap these days. I am just not too sure who or what to blame it on, either. Hormones injected into cows? Environmental pollution? Television? The fact that minimum wage will buy you a trip to the welfare office because you can't eat, and you are subsequently told you make "too much money"? How much can you sell crack for these days on the street? You tell me. I would honestly love to know.What will it take to put the fear of punishment into a person so that they will stop and think? It is an issue that I am tormented with every day of my life. Hey, it is what I do.
Some people sell cars, I think about crime. For those of you who relate better on economic terms, let's not forget that the state penal institutions are funded by your money. Anyway, apparently there has been a jail riot...in Los Angeles today!! ---46 people injured, and one dead. The Superbowl was today. Did you realize that there was yet another jail riot?
A Criminology professor of mine once explained a a theory about prisons overcrowding in the U.S. If you build more prisons, they will just fill up as fast as they are constructed. There are millions of people incarcerated and the number continues to escalate----out of control.So, let's think about the non-violent offenders for a minute or two. Let's think about those individuals who made a mistake or two, but really...their crime(s) can be compared to things you and I may do each day, but they got caught. Or simply accused. Some people sitting in prison were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, and out of those millions incarcerated, there have to be some people who honestly "didn't do it". (Those are usually the people who don't make that claim....but, maybe that is why they are behind bars?)
Anyway, I don't know what to do to solve this overcrowding problem, but I don't see anything good happening anytime in the near future. There are too many people who do not want change, and in my opinion the prison system needs a complete overhaul. Let's figure out how non-violent offenders can pay their debt to society and get back to living! We all make mistakes. Hey, maybe we could get Oprah on this problem?
I must confess that I personally have yet to earn a very significant piece of paper, actually the most important one of all (my license), yeah, I know....But, I served my time, and survived law school, i.e. "boot camp", and I serve clients every day, assisting the lawyers I work for and helping those accused.Okay, enough of that. The title of this Blog is "Prison Overcrowding".
What can the future hold for management of the incarcerated? Now, every person I have ever confronted sitting on the other side of the bars from me, tells me that they "didn't do it". Okay, Okay, I don't care! I am not the judge or the jury! My concern is what to do with the ever growing population in the prison system.
I am very depressed about this significant problem that doesn't get the attention it needs.I will disclose this fact to you.....I was a Clinton supporter, and I think, supporter or not, we can all agree that he did ALOT while he was in office. I respect his intellect and appreciate many things he accomplished in office. And, although, for the time being, disbarred, he is still an extremely busy man....Let's face it, the man makes more money at one speaking engagement these days than I will every earn in my entire life. But, please tell me this, isn't he the one who came up with the "three strikes, you're out" policy? MANDATORY SENTENCING-My response? "Yikes!!!!!!"In theory, mandatory sentencing is great, for those of us who are not supporters of violent crime. I bet that you have unfortunately either have been a victim of crime, ....or, you know somebody who has.
What ever happened to public hangings? I think that a couple of those would shake things up. Don't you think that people might stop and think before they leave the house to go kill somebody? I really don't know anymore, truth be told. I think that too many people snap these days. I am just not too sure who or what to blame it on, either. Hormones injected into cows? Environmental pollution? Television? The fact that minimum wage will buy you a trip to the welfare office because you can't eat, and you are subsequently told you make "too much money"? How much can you sell crack for these days on the street? You tell me. I would honestly love to know.What will it take to put the fear of punishment into a person so that they will stop and think? It is an issue that I am tormented with every day of my life. Hey, it is what I do.
Some people sell cars, I think about crime. For those of you who relate better on economic terms, let's not forget that the state penal institutions are funded by your money. Anyway, apparently there has been a jail riot...in Los Angeles today!! ---46 people injured, and one dead. The Superbowl was today. Did you realize that there was yet another jail riot?
A Criminology professor of mine once explained a a theory about prisons overcrowding in the U.S. If you build more prisons, they will just fill up as fast as they are constructed. There are millions of people incarcerated and the number continues to escalate----out of control.So, let's think about the non-violent offenders for a minute or two. Let's think about those individuals who made a mistake or two, but really...their crime(s) can be compared to things you and I may do each day, but they got caught. Or simply accused. Some people sitting in prison were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, and out of those millions incarcerated, there have to be some people who honestly "didn't do it". (Those are usually the people who don't make that claim....but, maybe that is why they are behind bars?)
Anyway, I don't know what to do to solve this overcrowding problem, but I don't see anything good happening anytime in the near future. There are too many people who do not want change, and in my opinion the prison system needs a complete overhaul. Let's figure out how non-violent offenders can pay their debt to society and get back to living! We all make mistakes. Hey, maybe we could get Oprah on this problem?
Tuesday
My dad read my blog, and liked it. I am glad that I was able to write it. I just started to write, and the story evolved. I wish I had time to write books, but right now I am working on getting my career on track. The Bar Exam is in less than two weeks. I am making trips to both my favorite coffee house and the library at a local campus.
It is so wierd to be back on a college campus. I actually began my educational career there, oh..so many years ago. And, How Time Flies! I feel so old when I look into the faces of those young kids. I wonder how old they are, because to me, none of them look old enough to drive, or vote! Since I started college at that campus, I transferred to a different college, then graduated, and moved on to Law School. Since then, I have worked in the environmental field, moved onto clerking for a Judge, and then learning how to practice law. My mom says it is funny to her that lawyers are always "practicing". "Can't they get it right?" She inquires. Ha. Ha. She jabs at me alot. She really enjoys it. I believe through the years, I have learned how to self-protect and jab back. In my family, it is sport. Who is on their toes? Rarely me.
The field of law is very challenging. I love it! I absolutely love all of the issues that we are faced with in our office from day to day. I love going to court. I don't always love the way the judge's rule. I understand that often, rulings are political. In my job, you have to always determine the other side's agenda, as there is always an agenda. Don't be fooled by thinking that can't be possible.
When I go to work in the morning, each day, I pass a government subsidized housing project. There is a black man, who never appears to be particularly happy, standing on the street, in the same place, right before you go under the underpass. He sells newspapers. He is out there in the sweltering summer heat, and in the bone chilling cold. He is working. Every morning, I have the urge to stop my car and tell him that I appreciate that he works every day without fail. I know that selling papers is not easy, and he doesn't earn too much money, but the fact is that he is working and I respect that. Across the street from where he stands, there are usually a few kids gathered, plotting the trouble they are going to get into that day. They look bored. I wonder if they are employed. I wonder if they are in school; doing something with their lives. I want to stop and talk to the kids, too. I don't know what I would say.
Maybe I would tell them that I have worked since I was fifteen, and it hasn't been easy. I would like to tell them that the most important thing about working is earning your self-respect. I wonder if they have self respect, but it doesn't appear so to me if they are standing around on a corner, looking bored, especially that early in the morning. If they were not working, I would tell them that millions of people have risked life and limb, and have traveled to America with nothing, for hopes to be able to live and work in a free market economy.
One time I was asked to leave a job. I did not know what to do, as it came somewhat unexpectedly. I made the trip to the local unemployment office, in order to utilize their job placement program. I always believe that you have to utilize every resource available while searching for work, so I was hopeful that would increase my chances of finding something. The job placement coach advised me that if he were me, he would stay at home and collect his unemployment checks instead of worrying so much. Ladies and Gentleman, that is what is WRONG with our system. I have never been so peaved at anything else in MY LIFE. I thanked him for his time, and went home and found a job within two days on my own. It was not what I wanted to do, and I was not making any money to brag about, but I was working. You, taxpayers of this State, were not paying me to sit at home and flip channels.
It is so wierd to be back on a college campus. I actually began my educational career there, oh..so many years ago. And, How Time Flies! I feel so old when I look into the faces of those young kids. I wonder how old they are, because to me, none of them look old enough to drive, or vote! Since I started college at that campus, I transferred to a different college, then graduated, and moved on to Law School. Since then, I have worked in the environmental field, moved onto clerking for a Judge, and then learning how to practice law. My mom says it is funny to her that lawyers are always "practicing". "Can't they get it right?" She inquires. Ha. Ha. She jabs at me alot. She really enjoys it. I believe through the years, I have learned how to self-protect and jab back. In my family, it is sport. Who is on their toes? Rarely me.
The field of law is very challenging. I love it! I absolutely love all of the issues that we are faced with in our office from day to day. I love going to court. I don't always love the way the judge's rule. I understand that often, rulings are political. In my job, you have to always determine the other side's agenda, as there is always an agenda. Don't be fooled by thinking that can't be possible.
When I go to work in the morning, each day, I pass a government subsidized housing project. There is a black man, who never appears to be particularly happy, standing on the street, in the same place, right before you go under the underpass. He sells newspapers. He is out there in the sweltering summer heat, and in the bone chilling cold. He is working. Every morning, I have the urge to stop my car and tell him that I appreciate that he works every day without fail. I know that selling papers is not easy, and he doesn't earn too much money, but the fact is that he is working and I respect that. Across the street from where he stands, there are usually a few kids gathered, plotting the trouble they are going to get into that day. They look bored. I wonder if they are employed. I wonder if they are in school; doing something with their lives. I want to stop and talk to the kids, too. I don't know what I would say.
Maybe I would tell them that I have worked since I was fifteen, and it hasn't been easy. I would like to tell them that the most important thing about working is earning your self-respect. I wonder if they have self respect, but it doesn't appear so to me if they are standing around on a corner, looking bored, especially that early in the morning. If they were not working, I would tell them that millions of people have risked life and limb, and have traveled to America with nothing, for hopes to be able to live and work in a free market economy.
One time I was asked to leave a job. I did not know what to do, as it came somewhat unexpectedly. I made the trip to the local unemployment office, in order to utilize their job placement program. I always believe that you have to utilize every resource available while searching for work, so I was hopeful that would increase my chances of finding something. The job placement coach advised me that if he were me, he would stay at home and collect his unemployment checks instead of worrying so much. Ladies and Gentleman, that is what is WRONG with our system. I have never been so peaved at anything else in MY LIFE. I thanked him for his time, and went home and found a job within two days on my own. It was not what I wanted to do, and I was not making any money to brag about, but I was working. You, taxpayers of this State, were not paying me to sit at home and flip channels.
Saturday, February 04, 2006
Sandi's Blog: Technology's Blessing: My Daddy's Blog
I want to take a moment to share with you the great gift bestowed upon me by Technology's Blessing. Tonight, I got my first lesson in Blogs!
I must admit, I am a bit behind times and sadly have not yet purchased as much as a palm pilot. What the heck is an I-Pod, anyway? Moments ago, I accessed my Daddy's Blog. (The Gog's Blog). Amazingly, there he was... Out in the open...FINALLY....His thoughts, opinions, and expressions, ranging from his avid support of free speech to his views of various myths and deep love of music. Much of which I have regrettably not known until a few moments ago. The Gog's Blog is a cherished gift to me: technology has miraculously opened the window into my daddy's soul.
My grandfather, a retired postman died when I was in my teens. I learned one profound fact about him: he loved the Atlanta Braves. I knew he cried every night before he went to bed, mourning the loss of his wife, who died many years before from diabetes. In my memories, I can still see him sitting on the edge of his bed, grasping the picture of his beloved Lucky (Lucille). He spoke to the framed photograph intimately, privately, lovingly. He told her how he could not bear to live another day without her. He could not go on. He lived without her for over fifteen years. Then, it happened and he passed. A generous, purely kind man who touched the lives of hundreds of strangers. One after the other, strangers stood at the podium, in front of the shell of what he once was. His Spirit had left hurriedly in pursuit to join his precious Lucky in eternity.
At the funeral, a bright-eyed young woman appeared through the crowd, choked back tears, weeping into the microphone sharing how he changed her life. Once, after he finished dinner at a local restaurant, he discovered his young waitress miscounted his change, giving him twenty cents too much. He immediately returned to the restaurant to return the money. He could have simply driven home, with an extra twenty cents in his pocket. What could twenty cents do for him? It would prevent him from sleeping with a clear conscience. What about the waitress? Twenty cents would prevent her till from balancing at the end of her shift... Twenty cents would have her fired. Who would feed her children?! How would she feed herself?
Alone I sat, a stranger in foreign surroundings, in a fog, contemplating life's strange events and embarrassed by my ignorance, by the chances I missed; solemnly listening to story after story about Elwood Long. I extended my hand and eagerly stepped forward hoping to meet this amazingly honest, true and generous man; A man I never knew. John Gog, my daddy, a man whom I have lived with for most of my life, has been an astounding mystery to many, including me. A brilliant, Hungarian stranger I have yearned to meet.. And, tonight, here, through the gift of technology, and a couple of keystrokes, I have gained security clearance to his classified thoughts, his mind, his opinions, his life. This gift has enabled me to realize a dream. I have the profound opportunity to meet this genius now, during our lives, and not have to wait until I am sitting at his funeral, listening to strangers' stories.
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