Technical Problems

Blogger is not working on Google chrome for some reason and I don't have a keyboard for this iPad.  So there will be radio silence from this end until this gets straightened out.

There hasn't been a hiccup like this in 5 years or so. Hopefully it will be up and running soon.

Until then, talk among yourselves.

My Sunday Feeling

Friday it will be my privilege to return to Catholic High School down the road from me to spend the day with the Econ classes.  I generally go twice each semester. Last year the State of Arkansas began requiring Juniors to have a semester of economics.  I think that's a real good idea for any of a number of reasons.  
Nobody taught me anything about money until my Uncle Howard took me aside after my father died and impressed upon me the value of setting aside money. And while I know virtually nothing about classical economic theory, I know what I have seen as a bankruptcy lawyer.  I saw my portfolio take a hit during the housing bubble.  And I have heard it all out on the swing on my front porch.  

Besides, while I may not know much about econ, I know more than those boys do.  And I have a hell of a lot of fun spending time with them.  

The teacher there is flipping the game plan.  Generally, I lead off with what has come to be known as the "hellfire and damnation" personal finance speech.  Then I come back later and we talk about buying and maintaining a home.  This year we will start off with real estate.  I guess he's got bankers and realtors lined up and he wants the kids to at least be conversant with the concepts before they show up.

Strictly as a matter of coincidence, my church will be hosting classes taught by Dave Ramsey's Financial Peace University.  The classes will begin in February but the introductory talk will be tonight.  

In case you don't know Dave Ramsey, he is a popular Christian financial counselor and lecturer who, last time I looked, had a syndicated radio call-in show.  I first ran across him after the housing bubble burst.  He was on ABC's "Good Morning America" dispensing advice to strapped people trapped in houses which were "upside-down" on the mortgage.  

Anyway, Financial Peace University claims on its website to offer "A biblically based curriculum that teaches people how to handle money God's ways."  As I have written before, Ramsey is not peddling snake oil.  And he and I share many of the same approaches to real estate and insurance, for example. I agree with him that money is an emotional topic and that poor choices can ruin relationships.  I can line up 3 or 4 people off the top of my head that can attest to that.  

What I don't believe is that there is a biblical approach to personal fiance.  Not for one minute.  The Good Book also doesn't say anything about science either. But that's another lecture.

Anyway, my Bible makes copious reference to the evils of avarice and greed.  There is that.  But virtually nobody had "investment strategies" in those days.  Unless you consider thou the money changers at the temple.  And Jesus ran them off.   

Why does this matter? Because it implies that any other approach to the subject other than Ramsey's basic "debt-bad, savings good" approach to the issue is not of God.  Further, no "system" will work unless a person has the will to make it work.  As a fellow bankruptcy attorney once told me, the reasons so many Chapter Thirteen cases get dismissed is because "if they couldn't manage their finances outside of bankruptcy, they're not going to be able to do it inside of bankruptcy either." No "system" works if you don't stick with it.


Ramsey also "endorses" financial products.  This strikes me as unprofessional.  But then again, he's not a professional.  Which brings me to my next point.

 There is a difference between taking a class and sitting down with a real financial planner, who is licensed and insured, who will inspect your financial life, misdeeds and all, and render advice concerning the "big picture." Again, we must concede that there is nothing more useless than advice that is unheeded.

Here's my "system" that I share with the boys at Catholic.  When I left the government I rolled my IRA over to a man named Ray who is my financial advisor. Although he is devoutly religious this has not bled over to my business plan.  He has licenses and diplomas from real regulatory authorities and schools and stuff.  We meet twice a year to discuss how things are going.  And things are going well.  Indeed,I do not much think about it.  I pretty much pretend it doesn't exist which I can do so long as we are making money.  And that's OK.  I tell the kids that if you don't know how to invest-and I don't-hire a professional to do it for you. It is money well spent.

I have no debt other than my mortgage.  I have other money put away where I can't possibly touch it.  I tell the boys that I cannot be trusted with a wet match. Knowing yourself can be a good thing when it comes to personal finance.  I know myself enough to know that I don't need to be too liquid.  

I plan to go to the church tonight.  Not that I need to take the course although I concede that it probably wouldn't hurt me any.  But I'm curious about the presentation.  

No, Dave Ramsey isn't a crook or a charlatan and undoubtedly he has helped folks.  He's not selling snake oil.  But neither has he gone broke being Dave Ramsey.  

And his "system" is no more reliable or magical than any other just because it is allegedly favored by the big Certified Financial Planner in the sky.  No plan works unless you stick with it.  None.

And that latter consideration tends to get missed by a lot of folks whether they are diplomates of Financial Peace University or not.  

My Sunday Feeling

Bobby Petrino is a fortunate man.  I don't know how a person could burn a bridge any better than he did when he left Louisville for the Atlanta Falcons in 2005. This was after signing a 10 year extension with the Cardinals.  In retrospect, that's not burning a bridge. Petrino blew it up while it was covered with rush hour traffic that included a school bus from an orphanage.

And while we are at it, let us remember that he was fired at Arkansas, not for having an affair, not exactly, but for having an affair with his hand-picked subordinate there in the football office and then lying to his AD after getting in a motorcycle wreck with said subordinate who was suspiciously young and blond. That's what got him fired.  

And he left in his wake a shell of a football program at Arkansas that has been nothing short of awful the last two years.  

So yeah.  Maybe you might think Bobby would be the last person on Earth, well other than John L. or Lane Kiffen, that Tom Jurich, the AD at Louisville would hire to fill the vacancy left when Charlie Strong left to occupy the Darryl Royal-Exxon Endowed Chair of Football at Texas.  And if you thought that, well, you would be wrong.

Jurich, who pretty much referred to Bobby as everything but a child of God when the Atlanta media contacted him after Petrino had dumped the Falcons for Arkansas, allowed as how he is a "changed person."  Yet and still, the contract between UL and  the prodigal (and supposedly former) rageaholic has a 10 million dollar buyout clause in the event he comes down again with itchy feet disease.  Just in case.

The sportswriters that have written about this have been pretty much united in their sanctimony.  One even went so far as to accusing Jurich of having no shame.

Well, of course he doesn't.  Bidness is bidness.  The athletic department is not in the business of being morally consistent or providing a life lesson to the students that poor behavior, lying and having the loyalty of a rabid dog does not pay.  Leave that shit to the pointy heads in the Philosophy department. 

This is all about money.  Louisville was 12-1 last year and they got a lot of guys coming back.  They are going into the ACC which is at least marginally tougher then the American Athletic Conference.  Hell, Florida State won the BCS title and Duke scared the bejesus out of A&M in their bowl game.  No more Memphises or UConns to slap around.  No time for looking back for the good folks at Papa John's Louisville Stadium.

Bidness is bidness.  Bobby Petrino returns to Louisville and Lane Kiffen gets hired as the OC at Alabama.  It's just about the Benjamins so long as the actual players don't get a cut of the swag.  Because that would be wrong.

One more thing.  Maybe Bobby is a "changed individual." But just in case, I hope Jurich inserted a "no motorcycles" clause in the contract and restricts Bobby's authority to make personnel decisions to the coaching staff.

Just in case.

My Sunday Feeling

My buddy Don came through town last week en route to San Francisco where he has taken a new job.  He got in on the 30th.  Neither one of us was worth beating.  He had somehow contracted pleurisy and I was taking an involuntary walk down memory lane as I returned to the consumptive ways of my youth.  Eventually, I too was diagnosed with pleurisy and bronchitis.  But I needed to get through New Year's before heading to the doctor.

Of course, my puny condition is pretty much due to having lived in a house with a man who smoked 3 packs a day which I eventually turned into a short story that you can read here if you are so inclined: http://www.aymag.com/March-2012/Tales-from-the-South-Asthma/.

This last bout was as bad as I can remember in years.  Even as I type every time I cough I feel like somebody is stabbing me in the back ribs on both sides.  I'm trying to lay off the codeine because I hate taking that shit.  But I am getting better. I react well to steroid injections and horse pill antibiotics.  

I cannot for the life of me imagine driving cross-country with this.  But one does what one must do.  Don's first day on the job is Monday.  As I understand it they have many files for him to dive into right off the bat.  So absent an attack of double pneumonia he had to soldier on.  

Things are tough out there.  He had to close down his law practice in North Carolina due to the slow economy.  Don is one of a handful of lawyers that do insurance coverage work for environmental issues. To make a vast oversimplification, which is the only way I can understand it, when the company he defends receives a claim based on an environmental problem, like a gas leak- or something going boom!-Don is one of the lawyers that decides if coverage exists.  If it does fine.  If he decides that no coverage exists than that decision gets his company sued.

Which is kind of a big deal since if he's wrong and loses in court his company can be held liable for "treble damages" or 3 times the amount sued for.

Like I said, he's considered one of the experts in this somewhat exotic field.  And it took him almost 2 years to find work.  It's a tough world out there, boys and girls.  And it seems to be over-run by lawyers looking for work. So he's grateful and relieved to have gotten back in the game.  

He's back in a city that he loves.  His oldest daughter Caroline flew out to help him get settled in.  What a comfort that must be.  Transitions are hard, no matter if they are for the best.  Being sick as a dog doesn't make if any easier.

As for me, I was glad to have him for a couple of days.  Don likes Hillcrest and he has friends here.  We had a nice get together New Year's Eve.  Neither of us felt at all well but nothing like food and fellowship to take your mind off your troubles.  The Tylenol 2 I popped an hour before the party didn't hurt either and suppressed my cough nicely.  My doctor is the "go-to"guy when it comes to getting through the Holidays with an upper respiratory problem.

But he's gone now and he won't be back anytime soon.  But that's OK.  Transitions are hard and he needs to keep his eye on the ball.  These jobs are tough to get.  

But it wouldn't surprise me if sooner than later his friends from this neighborhood don't find their way out there for a visit.  

Hillcrest is great and everything.  But it ain't no San Francisco.  I predict that his popularity will somehow increase under the circumstances.  

Goodbye To All That

As I've written before, I don't really make resolutions. The word implies resolve and I don't have any.  But then again, I generally view recipes as mere suggestions.  That's kinda the way I view my plans of what I would like to do, or do differently in the new year.  

First of all, I guess I need to decide whether I am going to work more than I am currently working.  It's funny but I am kind of ambivalent about it.  When I first "retired" I figured I would be sending out resumes by the next January.  The idea of me not working was just unfathomable to me.  

And I did wind up working for a non-profit on a part time basis.  Still am.  But I'm thinking that if I'm going to practice law again, I had better get to it while I still halfway remember how.  I've agreed to serve as a mentor at the law school. So that will be interesting.  We're going to have to finesse the job shadowing part of the duties.

I don't practice law.  At least I don't do it much and I do it out of the house.  But the Dean over there says we will figure out a workaround.

Again, I'm kinda ambivalent about working again.  I have come to enjoy this new life in spite of myself.  I like working out in the morning.  I like not having much of a schedule.  I don't miss talking on the phone all the time.  I don't miss having a bunch of emails waiting on me every morning.  I did at first.  But I don't miss it anymore.  

The money isn't a problem.  I'm bringing home now more than I netted when I worked.  I'm just not saving any money which used to make me crazy.  But now I'm kinda ambivalent about that too.  I have a pretty good chunk socked away where I can't touch it. And it's not like I have an ostentatious lifestyle.  Also as an accountant friend likes to say, the beauty of a pension is that it's impossible to blow.  Well, unless you do one of those stupid assignment things where you assign the future income stream for cash payment for what the actuaries say its worth.  

But I'm not insane.  Some people are.  

So what's new on the agenda for 2014?  I'm going to keep working out with Dennis as long as it continues to amuse him.  I'm going to keep working on becoming a musician again.  Guitar is getting better and my singing during my portion of the Holiday Show for last month's Tales From The South went over pretty well.  

Back in September I foolishly agreed to be the President of our Residents Association.  So far a mob bearing pitch forks and torches hasn't appeared in my yard.  So far so good.

I hope I won't have to make quarterly payments to the IRS next year.  I hope to use that money to do more travelling.  I hope to write more.  And since I have, much to my surprise, reached an accommodation with being useless, what better way to give in to that than by playing more golf in 2014?  

I made new friends in 2013 and I look forward to spending more time with them in 2014.  I would like to start shooting in RAW and learn to do better with Photoshop.  

I would like to get my legal services client's divorce wrapped up.  

2013 wasn't so bad.  2014 has a chance to be even better.  So goodbye to 2013.  Goodbye to all that.  

It took me awhile but I'm finally good with everything and where I am at.  I am in a good spot.  

And I am very, very, lucky to be here.  

Technical Problems

No post for today as my old modem bit the dust yesterday and I don't have a real keyboard for the iPad.  

Happy New Year!

My Sunday Feeling

I suppose this dreary Sunday is as good as any to discuss, and perhaps put in some perspective, the latest dust up concerning the piece on Duck Dynasty's Phil Robertson in next month's GQ magazine.  As we all know by now, Robertson was suspended by the Arts and Entertainment Network (which probably should drop the first word of its brand name since A&E is running a show like Duck Dynasty) for certain awkward remarks about, and I paraphrase, the relative merits concerning the mechanics of gay and straight copulation, the Bible's alleged condemnation of homosexuality, how the absence of Christianity in Japan and Germany (or "no Jesus" as Robertson succinctly put it) was the putative cause of World War II, and how black folks were "happy" "pre-welfare." He also lumped gay folks in with "drunks and terrorists" as the sort of folks that he prays for.

Of course, these remarks were offensive to gay folks. They were probably offensive to drunks and terrorists as well. 

This has produced the predictable firestorm of protest from Christian conservatives who claim that Robertson is being sacrificed on the altar of political correctness and that his "rights to free speech" are being violated.

This of course, leads me inescapably to Nolan Richardson.  You may recall that Mr. Richardson, who formerly held the Chair of Basketball at the University of Arkansas, once dared UA to fire him in a post-game interview.  They obliged him.

He sued the State of Arkansas claiming that his firing was an act of discrimination under Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964.  He also claimed that he was fired for exercising his right to free speech under the 1st Amendment.  UA claimed they fired him because his popping off damaged the basketball program.  UA won.

What has this got to do with Duck Dynasty?  This. And my license to practice law is up on the wall to my right as I type this.  There is no such thing as "free speech."  Robertson, Nolan, Sarah Palin and you and I have the 1st Amendment right to believe and say anything we want to.  But the 1st Amendment does not inoculate you against the consequences of the free exercise of that right.  And, the 1st Amendment can only be violated by the government.  Not a cable television network.

Which brings me back to Nolan Richardson.  He was fired by a governmental entity after the free and unfettered exercise of his right to hate Frank Broyles. And he lost.  

But I do agree with Robertson's supporters.  This situation is all about freedom.  He is free to run his mouth as he sees fit.  And A & E is free to discipline him according to the contract that binds them both. Paula Deen got fired by the Food Network.  Alec Baldwin got cashiered by MSNBC. It happens.  And the folks that are threatening to boycott the show's sponsors are free to do that.

At the end of the day, it will come down to nothing more principled than money.  A & E will make the business decision on how much the backlash will hurt. The Robertson family will decide if they want to continue to do business with the network.  And this will all be forgotten in 6 months.

I think the better question is why does junk like "reality TV," which is to "reality" as televangelists are to Christianity, have such a purchase on American culture?  I read the GQ piece.  Phil Robertson comes across more as strange and low-stupid than he does as a flat-out bigot.  But who gives two hoots in Hell about Phil Robertson's opinion on anything outside of duck hunting anyway?

I mean, c'mon.  

Slacking on Sunday

Nothing to report worth reporting.  I used to be more diligent than this.

Oh well.  It is what it is.

My Sunday Housebound Feeling

The annual Yuletide ice storm came a little early this season.  Last Friday much of the State was greeted by scenes such as the above as we were socked by another winter storm.  Northwest Arkansas got a bunch of snow, here in the rest of the State we got ice.  Which is the worst.  

But we got lucky for once.  The robo-call from Entergy last Thursday warned me to prepare for power outages lasting 5-7 days.  Which made me want to catch the first thing smoking to Santa Fe or someplace equally dry.  But even if I were to seriously give in to that, air travel was screwed, blued and tattooed across the West and Midwest due to what the National Weather Service euphemistically refers to as "disturbances."

Even after the dreadful Christmas of last year, it was hard to take such warnings of dire weather seriously.  After all, I went for a walk with a neighbor Wednesday night.  It was almost 80 and we were in shorts and shirtsleeves.  The next evening I heard thunder.

Thunder in December in Little Rock is never good.  

But like I said, we dodged a bullet.  The temps were cold enough that we got sleet instead of freezing rain which is a "pick your poison" kind of a deal.  Sleet makes the roads impassable which is a pain, especially now that we are into Day 3.  Freezing rain takes down power lines.  

So we had very few outages here in Pulaski County.  Which is good as this meant that the basic comforts of life, namely heat and the Internet, were still obtainable.  Though the area churches are mostly closed today, I have cable TV so I have access to televangelists to sustain me at this hour.

And, unlike many people who inexplicably wait until the last minute to acquire provisions,, I had gone to the grocery store and the liquor store last Tuesday or so.  So I have enough groceries to last me into next week.  Along about that time I went to the hardware store and bought 2 bags of ice melt crystals and 3 cans of windshield de-icer.  I could probably auction them off right now.

Pain in the ass that this is, it has been nice to catch up on my reading.  I've been getting calls and text messages from all over the place and that has been fun.  My friends and I do running checks on each other.  So far so good.  Nobody has fallen or gotten a heart attack.  Or lost a bunch of money on college football.  That I have heard of.

We are all inconvenienced.  But that's all we are.  As long as we are inside our cozy homes we are allowed the luxury of forgetting how bitterly cold it is.  And how dangerous it is.

I am the son of a Hoosier.  My father believed that you have to de-ice a car at your earliest convenience.  So I cleared a path to my vehicle with the ice-melt stuff.  I fired it up and cranked up the defrosters. I sprayed the windshields.  And I froze my ass off.

And it occurred to me at that time that this sort of thing is not completely necessary.  Buck Bowen did not live long enough to see fuel injected engines or reliable batteries.  There is little likelihood of water freezing up a fuel line as the gas we buy now is better.  And unlike my father, I do not buy Chrysler products with their notoriously balky starters that I can't imagine that Chrysler has gotten around to fixing.  But I can't help myself.  I am the son of a Midwesterner. I de-ice the car.

I was outside for about an hour.  It took me another hour and two cups of hot tea before I quit shivering.  I thought of the man in the tent.

A lady walking her dog spotted a tent on the North slope in Knoop Park the other day.  Another witness thought he saw a man living down there.  Guys from the Park Department went down there to roust him but found nobody there.

I know that you can't have people camping in the city parks.  I get that.  But what a symbol of our society's inability to cope with the problem of homelessness, mental illness and grinding poverty.  

Cold doesn't much bother me.  And yet I could barely handle an hour of exposure to the bitter cold we are currently experiencing.  

I am merely inconvenienced.  The man in the tent may be dead.  

I am blessed.  I am fortunate.  I have nothing to complain about.  

And if you can read this, neither do you.  

Duty Calls

Between, Thanksgiving and deadlines for 2 other writing projects, there is no time for blogging.  

I hate it when this happens.

Meanwhile, never yield.  

See ya later.  

My Sunday Feeling

When I was a young lawyer I was scared to death of judges.  Now I am a not-so-young lawyer and I'm no longer scared of them.  Part of this has to do with the fact that I have more experience now.  But it also has to do with the fact that I knew most of these folks when they were plain old lawyers just like me before they were transfigured.  So while I respect them, I'm not afraid of them.  

And I am friends with a few of them.  Got a text message from one the other night.  And I played golf the other day with another one.  When I was young in the practice the notion of my playing golf with someone who wears a black robe 8 hours a day would have been unthinkable.  Now it's no big deal.

I know Judge pretty well.  We have eaten lunch together and serve on committees together.  We had just never played golf together until the other day and I hadn't spent a whole lot of time with him since he went on the bench.  

We had a great time both playing golf and catching up on old news.  And while we really didn't talk much business-mainly because he can't but also because I have none to discuss-I did take the opportunity to ask him how seeing the practice of law from the other side had changed him.  

" I'll tell you," he said as he gazed downrange as we waited for the group ahead of us to clear. "I now understand that removing people from society for long periods of time is a very real part of my job."  

Former neighborhood watchman George Zimmerman got himself arrested in Florida the other day.  He was charged with aggravated assault, battery and criminal mischief after a domestic disturbance in which he is said to have threatened a lady friend with a shotgun and to have shattered a glass table.  He is free pending the trial, but one of the conditions of his bond was that he not possess firearms.  

To which I reply "about damn time."  

If you may recall, Zimmerman was acquitted in the death of teenager Trayvon Martin a scant four months ago.  In September his ex-wife called 911 after she alleged that he threatened she and her father.  The authorities found insufficient evidence to charge him with that offense.  

Some people just have a nose for trouble.  And it would appear that Zimmerman has such a proboscis himself.  He latest attorney is a public defender.  This is because, according to CNN, he is liquid in the amount of about $150 and owes 2 million in debts.  This implies a history of poor decisions leavened with a healthy dose of bad luck.  In other words, George Zimmerman is a loser.

But as a friend of mine said the other day after learning of Zimmerman's currant run-in with law, "Who would have thought that the slaying of a teenager wouldn't be the stupidest act of a lifetime?"

Indeed.  But there are some people who resist the temptation to lead a quiet normal life.  And Zimmerman appears to be one of those folks.  Even after after having that life restored to him by the jury in perhaps the most racially charged case since the OJ Simpson case.

Me?  I lay low.  But then again, I wouldn't have gotten myself-and in fact- haven't gotten myself into any of the fixes our hero has gotten himself into.

Back here in my little neighborhood, we have been experiencing a spike in property offenses.  People are justifiably angry and scared in equal measure.  We are having a meeting Monday night to discuss this.  One of the topics presented will be whether to form a neighborhood crime watch.

I am less than sanguine about this option primarily due to the Trayvon Martin case.  While I am reasonably sure that we don't have many cowboys like George Zimmerman running around over here in Hillcrest, you never really know.  But I am just one vote.  

I just hope that if we go that route that it will be after extensive training and be subject to stringent rules of engagement.  One Trayvon is too many.

And if George Zimmerman is convicted on the most recent charges, he needs to be removed from society. And he doesn't need to own a weapon ever again.  

My Sunday Feeling

I finally got to take in my first Hendrix Warriors football game yesterday.  Hendrix fielded its first varsity football team in 53 years this year.  It competes in NCAA's Division III in the Southern Athletic Association along with the likes of Oglethorpe (who are the Stormy Petrels, which has to be the coolest mascot ever), Millsaps, Rhodes, and Sewanee among others.  

As I understand it, Hendrix decided to get back into the football business because kids wanted to play football.  That, and the other states where it recruits heavily, like Texas and Tennessee have an ingrained football culture.  On the other hand, Hendrix also recruits on the East Coast.  So now they play field hockey and lacrosse.  

And so, what once was woods is now an athletic complex that is pretty impressive.  They have a multi-purpose football facility surrounded by a track, really nice baseball and softball parks and a soccer field.

I marveled at all of this stuff when I took in a baseball game last Spring.  Back when I was a kid, Hendrix played basketball, golf, tennis, swimming and did cross-country in what was back then the old Arkansas Intercollegiate Conference (AIC).  Women's athletics pretty much existed as club sports although Beth Forney was pretty much the men and women's tennis teams.  And though Hendrix did well in basketball and swimming it was pretty lousy in everything else.  

But then again, it didn't much care.  As long as Cliff Garrison's boys were filling up Grove Gym, everything was hunky-dory on Washington Avenue.  

But those days are over, boy.  

I read, and reviewed for the local paper, The System by Armen Keteyian and Jeff Benedict.  It is a book that serves as an indictment of how money completely drives and corrupts Division I football.  It is no exaggeration to say that the football tail wags the institutional dog at many of the university that fields teams.  

Even the so-called "academic schools" such as Northwestern, Duke and Vanderbilt have gotten serious about football and all are bowl eligible this season.  Hell, even Tulane is bowl eligible.  And Stanford is about as good as anybody in the country.  

So it can be done and it can be done with a reasonble nod at integrity.  

D-III is all about participation and academics.  The women's sports are taken as seriously as the men's.  You don't hear much about Title IX problems at that level.  Nor do you hear as much about off-the-field-stuff in D-III as do in big time college athletics.  Then again, D-III doesn't offer scholarships and recruits real students.  Real students tend to socialized.  

So, what did I think of today's tilt between the Warriors and the Sewanee Tigers?  Not much.  Neither team was very good.  Sewanee was bigger and had more guys than Hendrix did.  The Warriors were gamers but just got wore down by the visiting Episcopalians.  

By the way, and this is apropos of nothing, but I have visited the campus of the University of the South.  It is the most beautiful place I have ever seen.  You should go.  Really.

Back to the game, although the boys in black spotted the Tigers 20 points at halftime they came back fired up in the second and almost made a game of it until getting picked off in the 4th quarter which led to Sewanee's final TD for a 35-9 win.  

Still, the Warriors blocked 2 PATs in the first half which I had never seen before and returned one of them back for a safety which I had also never seen before.  And there was a pretty good, albeit brief, fight after the interception which led to the ejection of one of the scrappier Warriors.  That was fun.  

They won 3 games this year.  That's more than I thought they would win.  They are obviously well-coached.  They have a good foundation and nice facilities.  If you have to do football, this is as benign as it gets.

What the hell.  I may go up to Sewanee when Hendrix plays them up there next season.  I hear that guys wear kilts at their games which I can certainly do without.  But the University of the South.  There are worse reasons to go on a road trip.  

And you don't see crazy shit like guys wearing kilts in DI. 

I'm in.  

Overtaken By Events

Between short stories and random acts of journalism and photography, there was no time for blogging this week.

Catch you later.  

We'll try to do better next time as Tony Kornheiser says.  

My Sunday More Light Feeling

Daylight Savings Time ended at 1 AM this morning.  As my friends know, I really don't do very well for the first few days or weeks of Standard Time.  I don't know what it is exactly.  

Maybe it's because the first couple of days it feels as if the dark just falls on top of you out of nowhere.  Maybe it's because I can't play golf late in the afternoon.  Much of my neighborhood is not particularly well lit.  It is unwise to go out for a walk or run without some reflective gear on.  And it has to be said that crime goes up a little when the darkness arrives sooner.  CST is a pain in the butt.  

Then again, maybe I dread CST because it heralds the beginning of the inaccurately named Holidays.  While I tolerate Thanksgiving reasonably well, I have absolutely no use for Christmas.  And very little for New Year's Eve.  And it occurs to me that with that latter remark, this is the earliest in the calendar year that I have started bitching about the Holidays.  On the other hand, there is basketball to watch along with the bowl games.  As long as they keep making whisky I can get by.

One of my friends told me that he and some of my other friends were moderately concerned about me when CST started right after I retired.  He said that I have a tendency to "be a little blue" at the start of CST.  They thought that after all the stuff that had gone on prior to my retirement combined with my complete discombobulation at not having structure in my life,well, they were worried.  

While I am fortunate to have friends that keep watch over me, I didn't think the slight malaise that envelopes me briefly at the end of Daylight time was particularly noticeable.  But I guess it was.  And, seeing as how I find myself typing this, I guess I lived to get beyond November of 2011.  

Not everybody is like me.  I have a friend who is just the opposite.  She gets depressed at the advent of Spring. Which I find unfathomable.  She actually likes the dark and to a lesser extent the cold.  Conversely, she finds my lightened disposition around March to be intolerable.  And she reminds me of this without surcease.  

To each their own.

This year I have a plan for when the lights go out.  Since we tend to stay indoors more during this wretched season, I plan to be productive.  My closets are a disaster.  I plan to straighten them up and donate a bunch of stuff to Goodwill.  I have some book reviews to tend to.  And I need to figure out if I am going to practice law again.  Or maybe I don't.  

The deck is repaired and soon both it and the front porch will be strung with lights and lanterns.  Just in time for the Holidays!  Seriously, I plan to entertain more than I have.  I like to cook.  I like having folks come over.  I need to get back to that.  

Goethe's last words were "More light.  More light."  Well, around 4:30 this afternoon, the light will go away again.  And I won't like it one damn bit as per usual.

But this year, I gotta plan.  This year I gotta plan.  

My Sunday Feeling

As of last Thursday, I am officially pushing 60.  I am barely into my second year of retirement.  Or at least of my divorce from Uncle Sam.  

Neither of these things seem entirely possible.  

I still feel pretty much like I did when I was in my forties.  Sure, I have a bad back and shoulder.  And sure, I have coronary artery disease despite a fairly healthy diet and lifestyle and I have a bum shoulder.  

But I feel pretty good.  I still have a lot of energy.  I have gained 2 inches in my waistline in 20 years.  I still look pretty much as I did 20 years ago too.  A little grayer and balder certainly.  But folks I haven't seen in years still recognize me.  I can't make that claim about every person I run into after a prolonged absence.

It's pretty silly to get too worked up over one's birthday at this age and station in life.  Of course, I enjoyed the cards and the phone calls.  I was grateful to receive a few presents and to have a nice low-key birthday dinner with somebody who is dear to me.  And I got a text around midnight from a young woman who I have in my life.  Doesn't she know I am in bed by 10:30?  

And I was completely overwhelmed by the sheer volume of birthday greetings I received on Facebook. Over 200!  Far in excess of what I remotely deserved.  Such a kindness.  I am so grateful.  

I mainly enjoyed watching my friends enjoying my most recent trip around the sun.  Yes, there were the entirely predictable jokes about my becoming elderly. As my friend Steve said, "Congratulations!  You don't look a day over 70!"

Ho Ho!

That's OK.  

And if I take everybody up that has offered me a free lunch or dinner, not only will I not have to buy groceries until January, I will have to purchase a new wardrobe!

Really, it's all good.  

And I really like my odds of being the first male on my father's side in too generations to get into the 5th decade of life.  As my doctor said during my physical, "unlike your father, you're in phenomenal shape, you don't smoke and you take statin drugs. The odds of you dropping dead from a coronary are practically zero." I guess he doesn't get to tell that to everybody my age with CAD and what the white coats refer to as a "strongly positive family history" of early death due to bad tickers.  

So really, I don't think about it all that much.  Really, I don't.  Twice a week, a muscular black gentleman in dreadlocks locks me into a harness.  And twice a week, I pull his big ass up and down the track at Scott Field.  

Lately we have been doing the cardio portion of the workout out on the football field.  I go out for passes.  Just like I did when I was a kid, except now I am much creakier, slower and I can't see as well.  Apart from that it is circa 1970 all over again. I catch the ball, jog back and we go again.  Usually about 10 times.  It is great fun to make what passes for a cut at the cone and to watch the ball come out of the sky as I head for the sidelines, the sun and the wind in my face.  

Sometimes I even catch the damn thing.  

"You know how many guys your age can do this?" Dennis always asks.  "Not many."  

And in any event, it beats sitting in a law office all to hell.  

I've been doing this blog since 2005.  Every year around my birthday I've mentioned getting closer to beating, not fulfilling, my genetic destiny.  And every year I say I like my odds.

I'm saying it again.  

And I'm saying that a more grateful man never existed.  

AWOL AGAIN

Between the Race For The Cure and Miracle League there was no time for blogging.  

Talk among yourselves.

And how 'bout them Hogs?

My Sunday Feeling

Unless the House of Representatives comes to its senses, the Government of the United States, the Greatest Nation on Earth, the Leader of what is left of what passes for the Free World, the Planet's police force-you get my drift-will have been out of business for 2 whole weeks.

The world must be looking on in amazement.  

It's not much more complicated than this.  A handful of Republican Members of the House are rolling their Speaker who doesn't have the balls to call to the floor a Continuing Resolution to fund the Government that doesn't have a lot of other crap attached to it.  Earlier on it was defunding the Affordable Care Act.  Never mind that it was legally passed into law.  Never mind that the Republicans ran against it in the Presidential election and lost. Never mind that the Supreme Court of the United States ruled that it is Constitutional.  And never mind that millions of people are signing up for insurance.  Or they are when the websites aren't crashing.

They don't like it and so they were willing to hold the Government hostage.  Why?  Because it's "socialized medicine."  Because it will "kill jobs."  And because-get this-it requires employer provided health care plans to offer coverage for birth control.

If you will look at your calendar you will see that we are well into the year 2013.  Not 1913.  You would think that this issue would have been resolved by now.  

Anyway, they seem to have come to the conclusion that defunding Obamacare is not going to happen.  Not with a Democratic majority in the Senate and a twice elected Democratic President in the White House.

So, they have moved on-as they say after failed relationships-to the next ransom note: the debt ceiling.  

To overly simplify things, Congress passes laws on how to tax and how to spend.  Traditionally speaking, and we're talking up until fairly recently, if there is less revenue to pay for the stuff Congress has told the Administration to pay for in the Budget, it has raised the debt ceiling to allow the Treasury to borrow the money to fully fund these things.  And it has done so 74 times since 1962.  

This would be the definition of a "rubber stamp."

And why would it be otherwise?  Remember.  This is to fund the obligations THAT THE CONGRESS HAS AUTHORIZED.

So.  Now the House wants to tie the increase in the debt ceiling to deficit reduction and decreased Federal spending.  And so you are hearing sappy comparisons to how the government should "live within its means" just like you or I do.  This comparison is inapt.

I am able to use balance sheet accounting to run my life.  I know that I will take if x amount of money and so I only spend x amount of money.  More or less.  

But household budgeting is different from government budgeting. Families grow.  Members die.  I don't print money.  I'm not raising a military force.  I'm not paying retirement benefits.  My obligations are merely to provide for myself.  

And my personal obligations are not mandated by law and are not guaranteed by the "full faith and credit of the United States." But here's where the "household budgeting" meme has some applicability to this particular crisis.

If I default on my debts, or pay them late, my creditors are likely to charge my a higher rate of interest the next time I borrow money.  Same with the Government.  If the sovereign debt of the United States of America goes into default on October 17, then our  creditors will act just like GMAC and charge Uncle more interest.  

Some fools have suggested that Treasury piecemeal some of its obligations until the crisis is resolved.  Maybe pay interest on bonds first.  Social Security next.  That sort of thing.

This is madness.  A default is a default because the government's obligations are backed by the "full faith and credit" of the United States.  Period.

Just remember.  If this isn't fixed by October 17, then the government won't be able to borrow the money to pay for the bills that CONGRESS ORDERED IT TO PAY.  

Thus endeth the Civics lesson.  

The Blessing Of The Animals Last Week By The Hillcrest Branch Of The Methodists

My Sunday Feeling

The two year anniversary of my taking early retirement from my job with Uncle was October 1.  That was also the day the government shut down.  I do not think there is a cause and effect.  

This is one of the reasons I left government service.  While I could not have predicted a shut down 2 years out of the chute, working for the Feds had become more stressful since 2008.  Every September saw a fight over funding the government through Continuing Resolutions to continue funding the government.  Forget passing actual budgets in a timely fashion.  A Presidential election was coming up in 2010 that had every chance to be the nastiest in history given the rise of the Tea Party in the previous Presidential election.

The Agency that I worked for had no money for travel or training.  One of the lawyers I worked with had a hearing in Louisiana.  She needed to pay for gas and to book a room.  She was told by the Regional Office to ask the Judge down there to hold the hearing in Little Rock.  

Right.  Now THERE'S a helpful suggestion. 

No.  I was sick of it all by 2011.  And so I got out while the gettin' was good.  

I had been through at least 3, maybe 4 shutdowns in my 28 year career.  The first one was under Reagan. The longest was under Clinton.  I think that lasted about 5 days.  We were days away from one in either the last years of the Bush administration or the early years of the Obama administration.  Hell, I don't remember and I'm too lazy to look it up.

Closing down a Federal agency is not easy.  Individuals were told who were considered "essential" and who were not.  Full disclosure: I was never deemed "essential."  I was cool with it.

Cases, the legal work that the taxpayers were paying us to do, and which was the reason for our jobs, had to get long range planning about a month out.  Which meant that if you had a case load of 200-250 cases, as I did, you picked the 4-5 biggies that had discovery deadlines or God-forbid actual hearings, and made sure that you had them covered by whoever at Justice was deemed "essential." 

By the way, I ran into an Assistant United States Attorney buddy of mine today in the grocery store.  She is furloughed.  She had a deposition scheduled for last Friday.  One of the guys from the Criminal Division covered it for her.  Which is, of course, crazy.

The closer you get to the day of the furlough is when you get the "talking points" from Washington to give folks if you are asked why you were spotted on the driving range during working hours.  You were given a script to use for your voice mail greeting and the "out of office (and boy were you fixing to be out of the office)" reply on email.

The support staff secured the office.  Instructions were gone over.  No you can't volunteer to work.  That's actually against the law.  And the rule back then was that you couldn't accept any other outside employment.  My thought was "the hell with that." If the shutdown we were preparing for lasted more than 5 days I was going to instantly become "of counsel" somewhere until sanity was restored.

Then there was the issue of the actual, well, paychecks.  I was privileged to be making a lot of money for around here in the practice of law.  I could handle the hit at least for awhile.  But there's a difference between a GS-14 attorney and GS-7 documents examiner.  The idea of not having a paycheck was terrifying to a lot of good people who did nothing to deserve it.

I realize that nobody cares about Federal employees.  So let's talk about the taxpayers.  People expect government services.  They expect the parks to be open.  They expect to be able to get their farm acreage certified.  They expect to get their passports.  They expect to have their applications for Social Security processed.  

But they can't because the United States Government, the same government that built the Hoover Dam, brought electricity to the Tennessee River Valley (You ever dealt with anybody from the Tennessee Valley Authority?  What a bunch of assholes.), invaded Normandy and put a man on the moon is out of business.

Not sufficiently absurd for you?  How about this?  The United States Government is out of business but Chrysler is up and running.  

This is beyond ridiculous.  

Like I said, I got out while the gettin' was good.  

My Sunday Feeling

I called the grandfather-to-be last week(expectant grandfather doesn't sound quite right for some reason) just to take his temperature.  I asked him how he was holding up.

His youngest daughter had gone into labor in Birmingham.  Here we go!

" You know," Don said. "Some things just don't seem possible.  The first time I felt like this was when you retired.  I looked in the mirror and asked myself 'How can this be possible?'," he said.

"Then a year later Annie tells me she's going to have a baby.  Again, I looked in the mirror and asked myself 'I'm old enough to be a grandfather. How can this be possible?'" 

I confess that this is sufficiently surreal to me to as well.  Come October 1st I will have been divorced from Uncle Sam two whole years.  There are no bears in the windows.  No wolves at the doors.  I sometimes feel like I ought to be doing something more than what I am doing.  But obviously, I'm not working real hard at trying to figure it out.

I was still gainfully employed when Annie blew through town.  She was going to Oklahoma City for some reason and stopped here to spend the night with me.  I'm thinking 5 years ago.  I was still working.  I was still with J and Hugh was still alive.

We all had a great time.  We went for pizza that night.  I took Annie to breakfast the next day.  She said that I looked nice in a suit.  I, in turn, sternly lectured her on the importance of an education.  Lucky her.  I'm surprised she ever spoke to me again.

And now that goofy kid with the big brown eyes has a daughter.  Alexandra is her name.  Mother and baby are fine.  I would be happy if Mother and Grandmother would return phone calls from Little Rock.  But it's OK.  They are kinda busy.  

Of course, Alexandra is both beautiful and miraculous in equal measure, as all babies are.  My friend Ann has had 5 of  them.  She said the first thing she did each time a new baby was placed in her arms was to count fingers and toes.  That was her threshold completely unscientific way of ascertaining that each new kid was OK.  

As far as I know, little Alexandra has the full compliment of digits.  And I do know that she comes into this world surrounded by a cloud of witnesses that love her very much.  Loving parents, grandparents and great grandparents.  At least one Aunt that I know of and a disreputable honorary Uncle back in Arkansas.  That's a pretty good start.  It doesn't hurt your chances in life when you start out with all kinds of folks that can't wait to hold you in their arms.

But Don's right.  It doesn't seem possible.  I can close my eyes and be transported back to Tulane in an instant.  Don and Karin were dating.  Now they are grandparents.  I'm no longer working for the government (or working much at all actually).

And little Annie is a mama.  

I will head over to Birmingham to make her acquaintance once the dust settles.  To the extent the dust ever really gets settled when a new baby arrives. There will be plenty of time for me to get to know her.

Actually, that's not true.  While there's no great rush for me to get a look at her there's not plenty of time.

Alexandra's arrival punctuates the fact that 30 years just went by in a finger snap. 

Like her Grandpa said, "How can this be possible?"