Random Pensées

Hi, y'all! There will not be a lot of activity today as I am in the process of changing webhosting. I have been invited to join the Munuvians over at Mu.Nu and am starting to reestablish my blog over there where I will be found at RandomPensees.mu.nu. This is a very cool thing and I am very excited. I will most likely be neglecting my work today as I try to figure out how to get it all set up and how to move my archives over. I invite you to join me there and to update your links/favorites in the near future.

I went to an independent bookstore in our little village to track down a proper copy of AA Milne's Winnie the Pooh to begin reading to my daughter. Upon entering, I was immediately distracted by the bookshelves to the left of the entrance that were devoted to the recent publications. I can enter a bookstore with the best of intentions, with the steeliest of resolves, with the belief that I cannot be distracted from my mission to procure one, single title and no more and I can and will fail each and every time. This time, however (while I did briefly consider a new edition of the Journals of Lewis and Clark), I was too distracted by the overwhelming number of anti-Bush publications with not one pro-Bush book. Is it true, I wondered, that not one author has put pen to paper in defense of the President? I doubt that. So, after locating my Pooh, I approached the counter and asked the woman why the display was so unbalanced. I was pleased when she responded that she had received a lot of complaints about it. I was pleased about that because maybe, even in this very Democratic party village, people were still concerned about the chattering class treating them like idiots (at least I hope that's why). And then she told me that this was what was being published and maybe they had a point. I responded that I didn't know if they had a point, and regardless of where I stood on the President (and actually I support the man even if I did not vote for him the first time around), I was tired of these authors treating me like I was not a fucking adult. Stop pandering and actually engage in reasoned political debate and conversation. To my surprise, this woman agreed with me and took out a clipping from the NY Press which excoriates the new Michael Moore movie. The NY Press is not known for its conservative point of view. I walked out somewhat cheered. Maybe the rest of this little part of the country is tired of the polemics, too.

While driving today from one errand to the next, during nap time for the children, I went past Heathcote Hill in Mamaroneck, overlooking the Mamaroneck Harbor. There is an historical marker there to commemorate a small battle during the Revolutionary War. I give it a mental nod of the head whenever I pass by in recognition of the sacrifices past. Today, getting out of a Japanese car, in front of the historical marker, were three Indian women dressed in their saris. It made for an interesting juxtaposition of America past and America present. As I've said in this blog before, if we are still attracting immigrants, like the ones who fought at Heathcote Hill, for instance, we are probably doing better than the pundits would like us to think. By the way, here is a little information I found on the net regarding the battle: Heathcote Hill, to the north of the Post Road, is now covered with dwellings, but is rich in both historic and literary associations. It was named from Colonel Heathcote, who built a large brick mansion burned before the Revolution. The post-Revolutionary Heathcote Hall is now a road house. In 1776 it was the scene of a surprise attack by a Delaware regiment upon the Queenes Rangers, a battalion of Loyalist Americans, who were worsted. This is interesting as an occasion where Americans fought Americans. The dead were buried near the hill in a common grave, "Rider and horse,—friend and foe, in one red burial blent." A great-grandson of Colonel Heathcote's, Judge DeLancey, who succeeded to the estate, had two daughters, one of whom married John MacAdam, the inventor of the road which bears his name, and the other, James Fenimore Cooper. Cooper lived for some time on the slope of the hill and here were written his first two novels, "Precaution" (1820) and "The Spy." The scenes of the latter are almost wholly in this `Neutral Ground,' which lay between New Rochelle and Stamford, where were respectively the lines of the British and the Continental armies.

While walking past a tavern, I noticed the following sign: "Gentleman: Please No Tank Tops". Has it really come to this? Gentlemen need to be told to leave the tank tops at home?

A friend sent me this. It's an extract from a Christopher Hitchens article from the Weekly Standard: "I used to play two subliterary games with Salman Rushdie. The first, not that you asked, was to re-title Shakespeare plays as if they had been written by Robert Ludlum. (Rushdie, who invented the game, came up with The Elsinore Vacillation, The Dunsinane Reforestation, The Kerchief Implication, and The Rialto Sanction.) The second was to recite Bob Dylan songs in a deadpan voice as though they were blank verse." I feel inspired. Anyone want to play?

Just a quick post to call your attention to the discussion Mark is continuing about political moderates. He makes a lot of good points and is clearly got way more to say about this than can fit in a comment on my blog. Thanks to Mark for continuing the discussion in such a thoughtful way! And if you haven't checked out his blog generally, get thee hence!

I received such a lovely compliment from Jim at Snooze Button Dreams, who, in adding my blog to his blog roll writes: "Found from tracking back comments or maybe from the New Blog Showcase. Fantastic mad writing skillz. Talk about erudite - if I could write half as well..." I wrote to thank him there and I write to thank him here. You all should go visit his site. He writes beautifully and fluently about a whole range of various topics. He also has a slightly different point of view on bogus tort claims from my post below and I think it will make you laugh while making you think.

Inspired by the anniversary of William Jennings Bryan's famous "cross of gold" speech, given today in 1896, I ventured forth to look for the text of the speech and found this cool site: Great American Speeches (80 Years of Political Oratory). You will lose much time in here and probably quite profitably. Also, you might want to check out: Famous Speeches from USA Info. In the meantime, check out this selection from the Bryan speech: Ah, my friends, we say not one word against those who live upon the Atlantic Coast, but the hardy pioneers who have braved all the dangers of the wilderness, who have made the desert to blossom as the rose --the pioneers away out there [Bryan points westward], who rear their children, ear to Nature's heart, where they can mingle their voices with the voices of the birds--out there where they have erected school houses for the education of their young, churches where they praise their Creator, and cemeteries where they rest the ashes of their dead--these people, we say, are as deserving of the consideration of our party as any people in this country. It is for these people that we speak. We do not come as aggressors. Our war is not a war of conquest; we are fighting in the defense of our homes, our families, and our posterity. We have petitioned, and our petitions have been scorned; we have entreated, and our entreaties have been disregarded; we have begged, and they have mocked when our calamity came. We beg no longer; we entreat no more; we petition no more! We defy them! and this, the conclusion: No, my friends, that will never be the verdict of our people. Therefore, we care not upon what lines the battle is fought. If they say bi-metalism is good, but that we cannot have it until other nations help us, we reply that, instead of having a gold standard because England has, we will restore bi-metalism, and then let England have bi-metalism because the United States has it. If they dare to come out in the open field and defend the gold standard as a good thing, we will fight them to the uttermost. Having behind us the producing masses of this nation and the world, supported by the commercial interests, the laboring interests and the toilers everywhere, we will answer their demand for a gold standard by saying to them: "You shall not press down upon the brow of labor this crown of thorns! You shall not crucify mankind upon a cross of gold!" Good stuff.

I do not intend to weigh in at length on this emotional and complicated subject. I write now only to make a limited observation based on my own personal experience. As some of you may know, I am a lawyer. I practice almost exclusively complex commercial and corporate litigation and do some ancillary corporate work for clients who trust me and think I can't possibly screw up their work as badly as the last lawyer who got them into all the trouble they needed me to solve through litigation. Is that a ringing endorsement, or what? I got a referral for a personal injury claim the other day. I don't do PI work. Not my specialty. But, as a courtesy, I listened to the fellow's problem and agreed, at the end of his presentation, that he had a claim. I was about to type the details of his claim, but thought better of it. Even if he did not retain me, I would feel wrong about going into detail. Suffice it to say his wife was injured at a hotel they were staying at. I asked this fellow, at the conclusion of our chat, did anyone at the hotel offer to waive the bill, reverse the charges for the service than injured her, or even apologize. And he said, no, not a thing. This brings me to tort reform. I am beginning to think that a lot of tort cases are brought because the defendant acted like an asshole. If the manager of the hotel had acted like a gentleman, I doubt this fellow would have been on the phone to me looking for compensation. Maybe this post isn't about tort reform at all, now that I re-read my scribbles to this point, maybe it's really just a continuation of the discussion we've been having about moderates and courtesy. Maybe the real point is not that we need tort reform but that we need courtesy reform. Stop treating each other like idiots, apologize promptly when something's your fault, be sincere, and I am willing to bet the number of lawsuits would go down. I know that someone might comment, if they feel moved to do so, that the manager of the hotel could not have apologized because it would be seen as an admission of responsibility and an invitation to a suit. I disagree and I'll explain why. If the manager were my client, I'd advise him that he was going to get sued anyway since it took place in his hotel and due to actions by his employees who were acting within the course and scope of their duties as employees. Of course the hotel is a target and saying you're sorry will not make it any less of a target. So, I would counsel the manager to apologize promptly, send flowers, comp them to the room, pick up the medical bills, and make whatever other nice gesture he could think of. At best, he might just avoid a suit and pick up some nice good will out of it. At worst, well, he's probably going to get sued anyway. But, by not apologizing, the idiot has absolutely bought himself an all expenses paid visit from the process server. So, my personal experience leads me to think: more courtesy, fewer law suits!

Late night out last night with friends who we had not seen in a couple of years. Too much cheap Spanish red wine. Stayed up way too late on a school night. Ate too much excellent Turkish food. Came home to collapse in my bed only to be awakened three hours later, at about 3:30 a.m by a request from the girl child for a tissue. She needed her nose blown. I, of course, stumbled out of bed and immediately complied. I told her to go back to sleep and she sang, "ooookaaaay", at me. And wonders of wonders, she actually did go back to sleep. I settled happily back into my pillow and still warm duvet and began the process of going back to sleep. Then, from the other monitor, I hear, "da da da da da". A pause. Then more chatter. My wife, deciding that there must have been a Three Mile Island type incident in the vicinity of the boy's PJ's, valiantly dons the Hazmat suit and rides off to investigate. No hazmat incident. Just a little boy who's up and wants to play. He wants to play really badly. He delays for a long time accepting our kind invitation to return to his untroubled slumber. You may wonder, however, was your hero (read: me, the author) daunted by this yo-yo sleep/not sleep night? No, I shout triumphantly in return and thank you so much for asking. I am made of sterner stuff than this! When my alarm bleated its anemic electronic whine at 5:30, I promptly, without undue delay, jumped out of bed at 6:27. There's a lesson in this for all of us, somewhere. I think it might be that there's always going to be a later train you can take. Speaking of going out late on a Thursday, by the way, when I was young and childless and living in New York City, Thursday night was considered connoisseur's night out. Then I think it became Monday night. Friday night was strictly for amateurs and the B 'n T crowd. Ever hear that somewhat offensive expression? It refers to those who need to avail themselves of either a Bridge or a Tunnel to get into Manhattan. There are a ton of social stereotypes bound up in that three letter expression. Some of them may even be true. But, I am so out of touch now that I don't know what night is hot anymore nor if anyone even use the B 'n T expression. By the way, the couple with whom we dined last night? We met them shortly after the birth of the girl child in what feels like it has to be an only in NY story. My wife and I, faced with her impending return to work, placed an advertisement for a Norwegian speaking nanny in the Irish Echo, the newspaper of choice for those seeking domestic employment. We received something like 40 replies. I was thrilled, until I listened to all the voicemails stacked up on my cell phone. Then I realized that cultural diffusion had reached new heights. What else could explain why so many women were calling about the Norwegian speaking nanny position and leaving messages with the beautiful lilt of the West Indies and Jamaica in their voices? I am a big fan of that accent, I find it very musical. But it ain't Norwegian. There was one other message, however. It was from a guy who was also married to a Norwegian woman and they had also just recently had a baby. He said that they had not considered even advertising for a Norwegian speaking nanny and he wondered if I would be so kind as to send over his way the many women we considered and rejected for the position. I called him and explained that we received not one single qualified applicant and invited him and his wife over for a drink. They accepted and we have passed many happy hours with them since and our daughters like each other, too. I love this story. Anyway, they have now also sold their apartment in NYC and bought a house out in Westchester, one town over from ours. So, here I am. Armed with Advil and coffee, I am off to convince two new potential clients that I am their man for the dispute they are having with their former hedge fund employer. I will not slobber on myself and I will confirm I have put each button of my shirt in the appropriate hole. Hopefully, they won't notice anything amiss. Wish me luck!

I happened to come across this article earlier today and I left the window up on my screen all day, thus ensuring that I would note it and also ensuring I would forget how I came across it. In any event, 60 per cent of German men didn't shower today, according to the article. And there is a downright icky number of them not changing their underwear. Just thought people might want to know, in case they were making European travel plans this Summer. Actually, this reminds me that during the late 80's, there was a similar survey done in Austria concerning teeth brushing. My wife told me about it once. If I recall correctly, some 3 out of 10 Austrians were not going to touch a toothbrush for their entire adult lives. Quick google search turns up nothing on point. I'll have to ask my wife for more details.

My wife reported to me as follows. She and the children were out for the evening constitutional, while I was preparing dinner, and they ran into our neighbor who works at the school where the girl child is attending camp. Our neighbor told my wife that she was watching the girl child run through the sprinklers at camp yesterday and one of the counselors came up to our neighbor and said, "do you know that girl, she is so smart". I think she's smart, but I'm biased. It was nice of our neighbor to share that with us. And just to round things out, last night, when she called me upstairs for the "extra hug and a kiss" that has become part of her going to sleep ritual, I simply popped right into bed with her, which caused her to give me a very bemused look, since I very rarely if ever do that when we are trying to get her to go to sleep. So, I'm lying there with her, and she looks at me with those huge blue eyes, and says, softly, "I missed you today". And I melted. I seriously considered not going to work today. Ah well, back to the coal mines.

Long time readers may recall my post some time ago concerning Zimbabwe and the horrible political and social and economic situation there. I wrote about my disgust with the other African governments and their failure to even attempt to deal with this problem. Well, I came across this today in the NY Times: African Leaders Failing Zimbabwe, Prelate Says. Want to know why he said that? Mr. Mugabe scored a diplomatic victory last weekend when the 53-nation African Union, meeting in Ethiopia, voted to table a sharply worded critique of Zimbabwe's civil-liberties record prepared by a committee on human rights. The report, which was leaked last week, accused the government of "failure at critical moments to uphold the rule of law" and of tolerating arbitrary arrests and human-rights violations. Apparently, by the way, this report dates from 2002! What a disaster.

I posted a question yesterday: what happened to the moderates? I have been concerned for a long time about the coarsening of political discourse, not to mention simple every day discourse, and as I said in that post, Michele at A Small Victory wrote a great item about this lack of civility. Well, I think we found the moderates. They were here on my comments board and I'm going to reproduce them for the general readership who doesn't look at the comments (and if that's you, you are missing some very good and thoughtful writing). Amber writes: I'm always afraid to attach myself to any single label for fear of putting myself in a box. I have voted both Democrat and Republican. I would call myself a conservative/liberal or liberal/conservative too. I'm all over the place on the issues. No one party suits me, since I'm strongly for the death penalty and strongly for abortion rights. And I'm that way about all the issues. I don't like the term "moderate" because I feel it's such a tame word...and I'm *passionate*. That's what I am: a Passionate! *grins* I wish we didn't have a two-party system, I know that. Amber | Email | Homepage | 07.07.04 - 2:42 pm | # -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Mark writes: The moderate-to-liberal Republican has a long pedigree in New England and once was a readily identifiable species in Massachusetts, but is on the Endangered List. (See the Ripon Society) Is it possible to be vital, passionate and moderate? Mark C N Sullivan | Email | Homepage | 07.07.04 - 3:58 pm | # -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I write back to Mark: I think so, Mark. I am passionate about defending the old Liberal traditions of free speech, passionate that the only remedy for bad speech is more speech, and passionate that discourse conducted between committed people needs to be civilized. Maybe all of us could join Amber's new party! Random Penseur | Email | Homepage | 07.07.04 - 4:04 pm | # -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Mark replies: You might be on to a new slogan, RP: Extremism in the defense of moderation is a virtue. Might the position you describe also be called centrist? Whatever the terminology, I'd say a great number of voters share your tendencies: in Massachusetts, for example, unenrolled independents outnumber Republicans and Democrats. Mark C N Sullivan | Email | Homepage | 07.07.04 - 5:24 pm | # -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Stolypin writes: RP, 1. I want the elected left side of the aisle to stay out of my pockets; 2. I want the elected right to stay out of my bedroom; 3. I want my streets cleans and my schools well funded - and will pay sufficient taxes to ensure that. 4. I want those schools to focus on academics, music, sports, arts, etc. I will take care of God - and expect other parents to do the same - even if they don't share the same belief system or have no belief system at all. 5. I want every child to have a full range of educational opportunities - and if race is a factor so be it - but I would be happy to have economic background without regard to race considered as well. A coal miner's kid from West Virginia is not a child of privilege and could also use consideration in admissions decisions. 6. I want people to wave thanks when I wave them into 'my lane' during rush hour on I-95. stolypin | Email | Homepage | 07.08.04 - 12:02 am | # * * * So, where are the moderates? I now think that they are all around us. The people Stolypin is waving into traffic, the people Amber saw at the pillow fight during the 4th of July, and the people Mark may know at the Ripon Society. The only thing is that while these people may vote, they may not get out there and add their voices to the mix. They may not appear in focus groups from which political messages are crafted. And they may not be counted on or appealed to. All of which is too bad. We could all use a moderating influence, no matter how "passionate" we are in our belief that "Extremism in the defense of moderation is a virtue". Thanks for restoring my faith in the moderate, y'all.

As reported this morning in the Times, a New York appellate court has tossed out the law which permitted slot machines at NY ractracks. If you are curious, the 52 page opinion can be found here. This is a good thing. As the article reports, the Governor planned to use the revenues from these slot machines to make up for the imbalanced school aid provided to the public schools in New York city. Another court found the formula by which school aid was provided to be unconstitutional. So the State needs to find more money. Let me be unambiguously clear about this, something I normally hesitate to do, I loathe the idea of lotteries and gambling being used to fund any State program or purpose. Such a thing is merely taxation by other means, indirect taxation if you will. Yes, I know that it is the choice of the participant to play and thus be taxed and if I don't play then I escape that tax. Still, that means nothing. Why? Because revenue raised this way is objectionable for at least two reasons. First, the unfair impact on those who pay. Second, I think that this form of indirect taxation defeats accountability by allowing the government to disguise the true costs of services it provides. Unfair Impact: Who buys lottery tickets, for the most part? I believe I have read that it is the working poor and lower middle class. How do they buy them? With after-tax dollars, of course. So, if you agree that this is an indirect tax, then you will have to agree that those who purchase these tickets, and pay this tax, are doing so with money which represents a greater proportion of their after tax earnings than, say, my after tax earnings. $10 spent on lottery tickets is going to mean more to the person from a lower economic group than it will to someone in a higher economic group. I am certain that this is recognized by the politicians yet they do not care that the group least able to afford to dispose of their income in this fashion is doing so. And the politicians are abetting it. This is unfair. If taxes need to be raised to support a program, then doing it indirectly and on the backs of those least able to pay for it is unfair. And that leads me to point two. No Accountability: I said above, "if taxes need to be raised to support a program. . ." If you fund a program from lottery or gambling monies, then you effectively remove from the public forum any reason to debate the need for the program or its funding level. Why talk about, after all, if the taxpayer isn't paying for it? I think of it as the governmental equivalent of an off balance sheet vehicle like Enron used. The result is that no one has to talk about it so no one will discuss whether what the government is doing is right. I think that governments abuse power when the possibility of open review is removed. We are supposed to have government in the sunshine and with freedom of access to information. Laws have been passed to that effect. If we as a people permit the government to sweep a program under the rug by financing public programs with tax money raised indirectly from those who can least afford to pay it, then I submit that we have a problem. Also, if there is no one to complain that the money raised is coming out of their pocket, who is going to complain that the money is not being well spent, which is an issue apart from whether the money should be spent. This system changes the oversight mechanisms built into our participatory democracy and I don't like it. Finally, governments are like crack addicts -- they can't stay away from the cheap money. Once they go to that well, they'll keep going back. And no one will care enough to make sure it's proper. Well, my thanks today go to the Appellate Division, Third Department, of the Supreme Court of the State of New York, even if they did it for a reason other than the ones I've enunciated here. Here endeth today's rant.

The NY Times this morning ran a gushing tribute to Paul Rudolph today, one of the great modern architects. The article mentions how he was the Dean of the Yale School of Architecture and how he designed the "heroic" and "magisterial Art and Architecture Building at Yale, which has nine floors and some 30 different levels". I already said gushing, right? What does the article fail to mention? Well, how about the fact that the students hated the building so much that they actually tried to burn it down? That strikes me as a fairly pointed piece of criticism. How about how Rudolph placed the sculpture studios at the top of the 30th level with no elevator access to get sculpture materials, like, say, marble, to the studio. Or finally, how about how the building was covered with this rusticated concrete on which Rudolph left the imprints of the wooden molds which held the concrete while it dried, thus leaving the building with this sort of sinister and unfinished looking air. Actually, I kind of like that treatment, but many don't, and in the hands of an untalented hack it is pretty awful. I suppose that these issues would reduce the impact of the article some.

What follows is a draft thought I had been kicking around for awhile and never got much further with: Did he or she disappear? Is the moderate an endangered species? This is a question I have been pondering, off and on, for a long time. I have no answer but I have formed some thoughts I'd like to jot down about political culture and identity. Identity. First off, I have identified myself before on this blog as a South Park Republican -- someone who combines the belief in the need for "a hard-ass foreign policy", is "extremely skeptical of political correctness”, but also is socially liberal on many issues. That's me. Not a true Republican and not a true Democrat. Somewhere in between. Perhaps a Liberal conservative. Or a conservative Liberal. * * * I was going to come back to this and write about the political culture side and expand on the identity section, but Michele at A Small Victory has done so today in a post that is just so good that I urge you to go check it out: A Social Civil War.

makes Hans an unemployed German worker as his job moves to Hungary. According to the NY Times this morning, Europeans may seek to lengthen work week and cut back on vacation. You may be shocked to learn, as the Germans and French are, that cutting the work week back to 35 hours has not led to an economic boom and that, counterintuitive as it may be, some bonuses in Germany may now be linked to productivity and profits, as opposed to just being handed out no matter how well the company was doing. This has been a sore point for me for a long time as all of my European friends and some of my wife's family think that we Americans work too hard and should adopt the European leisure-state model. According to this article, it ain't working out so great over in Europe any more.

I have not written a lot about the boy child here. He is 16 months old and has the face of an angel. He is exceptionally blond and fair with piercing blue eyes. He looks a lot like my wife's pictures at the same age. In other words, he looks nothing like me and everything like every picture of smiling, happy Norwegian babies you might have ever seen. In that regard, by the way, I refer you to the beautiful Summer in Norway pictorial collection in Aftenposten, where the only picture of a child is actually a happy child of apparently Asian descent, which is not exactly what I had in mind when I sent you there. No matter, the pictures are still beautiful. In any event, up until very recently, he has not spoken much beyond Dada, Na-na-na (for banana) and trying to say his sister's name. Now, he has begun to speak. A little, maybe, but still. If you hand him something, he looks at you and says, quite emphatically, "Ta". We are quite certain he is saying "takk", or thank you in Norwegian. He may not say much, but he is endearingly polite. Also, last night, my wife responded to his cries of distress occasioned by his having jettisoned his blankets from his crib. His new game. However, he becomes completely disconsolate when said blankets are no longer within reach. He loves these blankets, which is nice because my mother knit them for him. My wife came in, picked up the blankets, and asked him to sit down. He looked at her, said "sitte", and sat down. While I have been eagerly anticipating his powers of speech, my wife points out that the power to talk is the power to talk back. She has a good point, but then, she usually does.

and took myself off to the NY Public Library to see the exhibit of the Thomas Jefferson handwritten draft of the Declaration of Independence in which he underlined the bits taken out by the committee before its adoption by the Continental Congress. I posted about this exhibit before here. I had a number of different impressions. First, I was surprised how legible his handwriting was. He clearly, at least to my inexpert eye, used a quill pen. Second, his spelling was conventional. He spelled the word course as course, and not "courfe", as the contemporaneous newspaper printings of the Declaration did. Third, the ink was brown and faded but packed an emotional punch. I can't explain it, but I was quite moved and actually blurted out loud, "oh, my", when I read the first sentence. Fourth, the draft penned by TJ actually contained a scathing denunciation of slavery and he blamed the King for importing the institution to the colonies and then for inciting the slaves to take up arms against the colonists. I thought it was interesting enough that I will type it out here from the copy they gave out at the library. It appears in the section of the document listing the colonists grievances against the King: he has waged cruel war against human nature itself, violating it's most sacred rights of life & liberty in the persons of a distant people, who never offended him, captivating & carrying them into slavery in another hemisphere, or to incur miserable death in their transportation thither. this piratical warfare, the opprobrium of infidel powers, is the warfare of the Christian king of Great Britain. determined to keep open a market where MEN should be bought & sold, he has prostituted his negative for suppressing every legislative attempt to prohibit or restrain this execrable commerce: and that this assemblage of horrors might want no fact of distinguished dye, he is now exciting those very people to rise in arms among us, and to purchase the liberty of which he has deprived them by murdering the people upon whom he also obtruded them; thus paying off former crimes committed against the liberties of one people, with crimes which he urges them to commit against the lives of another. If you are in or can get to NY, I highly recommend going to see this.

"I replaced the headlights in my car with strobe lights, so it looks like I'm the only one moving." -- Steven Wright

I give you today's odd but interesting historical juxtaposition. Today: in 1854, the first official meeting of the Republican Party took place in Jackson, Mich. -and- in 1923, the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics was formed.

I received quite a nice sunburn this weekend. I had my shirt off, outdoors, for the first time in at least a year and I chose to do it while sitting in the kiddy pool with my daughter, without sun screen. Oh, I remembered to put sun screen on the girl child but forgot to protect myself. Result? A predictable bad burn on the shoulders, chest, and upper arms. I have been slathering myself with aloe, spraying myself with dermaplast, and stoically whining about it ever since to whoever would listen to me (that's you at this moment, gentle reader). I sit here now as my chest itches, and my shoulders feel like someone is occasionally sticking a pin in them. You know what, though? It was worth it. I heard from my daughter probably three different times over the weekend how much fun she had when I came in the pool with her. So, I'm going to do it again. Just with sun screen next time.

Another good reason why you should always be careful with your wallet: you may end up married without knowing it. At first this seemed really odd, but upon reflection it makes a lot of sense. You need a residency permit, you steal the identity of a woman, you marry her, you stay. I wonder how often this happens.

I came across this little snippet, about how the US time zones came to be created, in the NY Times this morning in an article about timekeeping in Grand Central Station and wanted to share it. I thought it was fascinating and I had never given it any thought before: Indeed, timekeeping, as it is known today, was essentially invented out of necessity in the late 1800's by a collection of railroads, including the New York Central, a predecessor of Metro-North. Before the railroads, time was a local matter, set in each town according to the sun. Therefore, noon in Cincinnati, for example, would be slightly different from noon in Cleveland. But this was obviously a problem for railroads. Coordination of traffic on the tracks, as well as schedules for picking up passengers, depended on a standardized time system. "A train could leave Syracuse at 12 o'clock and come into Utica, and it would still be 12 o'clock," said Pierce Haviland, a Metro-North employee who is also a railroad historian. "That wasn't working." At first, railroad managers set up 100 different railroad time zones, but that proved too complicated. Finally, on Nov. 18, 1883, four standard time zones - Eastern, Central, Mountain and Pacific - were adopted by the railroads. At noon on that day, the time was transmitted by telegraph from the United States Naval Observatory in Washington to all the railroads in the United States and Canada. Twice a day thereafter, railroad clocks were resynchronized with the Naval Observatory's clock. However, it was not until 1918, when Congress passed the Standard Time Act, that the railroads' time zones became the standard for everyone in the United States.

I was thinking, off and on this weekend, about a letter I read in the Westchester section of the Sunday NY Times. A woman wrote in to complain that no one would give up their seat for her on a morning train going into the City when she was rather visibly 9 months pregnant. She closed her letter by asking whether chivalry was dead. Is it? Should it be? Should she have had any expectation that she would have been treated differently because of her sex? My answer is yes, it is dead and no, she should not have any expectation of more favorable treatment because of her sex. Putting to one side the issue of the pregnancy, because I happen to believe that is not an issue open to discussion. Simply, she should have been given a seat because of her physical condition, just like you give your seat to a person with a cane, for example. That is based on disability. That said, I can recall numerous instances of offering a seat to a pregnant woman on a City bus or subway only to have them decline the offer. And, there is another school of thought that says you do not ask or suggest a woman is pregnant unless you are actually seeing them give birth. As in, what if you're wrong about the pregnancy? But enough, let us return to the chivalry question. chivalry, at its beginning, was a code of conduct according to which Knights and the nobly born aspired to live their lives. There is plenty of information floating around about it on the internet and some of it might actually be correct. It included within it, the Courtly Love tradition, which had various rules for courtship and marriage and taking lovers. Chivalry has come to mean, I think, a manner of treatment of women by men. Women are exalted by virtue of the fact of their being female. I think that this is meant to memorialize the belief that women were the weaker sex and were to be treated accordingly, better really than the way men treated other men. So, we come back to our question: is it dead? Yes, I think it is and it ought to be. First, the belief that women are the weaker sex is obviously false. They do not need better treatment out of weakness. Second, I think that the social contract has been redrawn over the last 30-40 years in the US. The playing field is much more level. Yes, I know that there are still glass ceiling issues and pay parity issues, but just the same, I think that women are competing fairly evenly with men now in the workplace, in school, on the athletic fields (at least since Title IX), and every where else. Such competition precludes any claim to chivalrous conduct. I think that it is somewhat a question of having your cake and eating it, too. I think that pregnant women does not deserve a seat on the train because she is a woman. Indeed, if she was not pregnant, she would have no right to complain. Her claim to that seat based on some outdated notion of chivalry rings false.

As I mentioned below, I was feeling fragile this morning and I even slept in until 7:30, a good 2 hours later than usual for me. I was just finishing toweling off in the shower when I get a very demanding knock on the bathroom door and a little voice sings out cheerfully, "goooood moooorning". So I invite her in and she keeps me company while I shave. We then go to her room to take her out of her pj's so we can go downstairs. I wanted to be quick upstairs because I wanted to fix her breakfast. She asked me to so nicely. So, we get into her room and it smells funny. Like sun tan lotion. I ask her, why does it smell like sun tan lotion in here? And she tells me. "Oh, I was just putting some on my animals yesterday". Why, I ask. "So they won't get sunburned. The flamingo got some on his toes and the pony got some on his nose and his sides". She was covering the vulnerable spots, I gather. It was very sweet, even if it smelled kind of funny.

I would also like to thank the nomad(s?) at The Greater Nomadic Counsel for linking to me. Go to their blog if only to view the very cool painting they have chosen as their header. Otherwise, it is a very interesting and literate read. I would also like to say thank you to Red at Red Said for her kind words regarding my post at the New Blog Showcase. I have not had a lot of time to page through her site but I intend to over the weekend. She is clearly a person of great taste and discernment! :)

I was overserved last night. I take no responsibility for any of my actions last night and I blame the bartender and my so-called friends. It wasn't my fault. Ok, maybe a little bit. We took a friend out for drinks and dinner for her birthday last night. We met for drinks at Aquavit. (I am compelled to share with you this picture of the urinal at Aquavit which I found doing an internet search for the restaurant. I had no idea that restaurant urinals was the subject of such fascination and I post this in order to squick you out, too. Share the joy.) Aquavit makes its own flavored aquavits -- I particularly liked the lemon/mint one and we had a couple of those. We then went next door to a private club and had a little bourbon. Then upstairs for dinner, where we had two excellent bottles of wine. One of the best things about dining at a private club is that the wines are not marked up like they are in a restaurant. We drank, at about 1/2 to 1/3 the cost of a similar bottle in a restaurant: Volnay 1er Cru 1996, Caillerets Ancienne Cuvée Carnot Bouchard Père & Fils and Vougeot 1er Cru 1996 Les Cras Domaine Bertagna They were so tasty. And the second bottle was even better than the first. Then, home late, up early, and back at work where I feel somewhat less than my usual sparkling self. Note to self: drink more water before going to bed after nights like last night.

Sorry so quiet, we had no internet access from the office (from where most of my blogging takes place) until just now. It was giving me itchy fingers, too. The title of this post is, of course, a take on "no woman, no cry", which is the song currently playing in my head this morning.

I have been linked to by some very smart people and I owe them a thank you note, which they will get, and a link on my page (because they are deserving, not because they linked to me first) which I will do soon. But, before I add them to my list, I want to thank them publicly and call your attention to them (in no particular order) as they are all worth a visit: Irish Elk is a beautiful looking page with fantastic pictures integrated with smartly written text; Zya's Ramblings is an interesting page written by a poet/accountant who is a Portuguese/American/Aussie going to University in Australia; Hannah's Collection is the work of an American IT student living, studying, loving, and growing up in the Netherlands; Indigo Blues is a page that veers from the comic to the searingly sad as this woman, cloaked in anonymity, writes openly, movingly, and beautifully about her life and struggles and hopes for the future; Photojournaliste is a blog by a Canadian who works internationally as a photo-journalist. Thank you all for finding me "link worthy"!

I am feeling pretty damn dapper today. I have a rare victory under my belt from yesterday, and let me tell you, what I convinced the judge to do yesterday is something rarely accomplished. I am wearing a seersucker suit with an orange* and blue tie and I stopped to get my shoes shined in Grand Central Station before continuing on to work. Yes, pretty dapper indeed. I haven't worn these shoes in a long time and they are beautiful -- purchased before I had children -- monk strap shoes from J. M. Weston. So, I was sitting there, feeling dapper and relaxed as this very nice young man from somewhere below the U.S. Southern border with Mexico (I really don't know where he was from and didn't want to ask) put a mirror shine on these shoes. (Digression: If you haven't worn your shoes in a while, get them shined, the leather needs the polish and will soak it up. Also, use shoe trees when you take your shoes off). It's an interesting feeling to sit down in Grand Central and watch the ebb and flow of the race tide as people hurry this way and that way in their haste to get to work. You sit elevated when you get your shoes shined and so you are looking down, a little, at this pageant of humanity. They have newspapers at the stand, but I am a people watcher and I prefer to watch the crowd. No startling observations to report from my crowd watching. In fact, as there were way too few attractive young women in light summer dresses to observe, I turned my thoughts to the young man shining my shoes. He did a first rate job. Shining shoes is not complicated but it is very hard work to do right and to do it right all day long. Some people just swipe the polish on and leave a surface shine when they are finished. This fellow worked the polish into the leather of the shoe. To do that requires the application of some force. I tipped him $5 on a $3 shine when he finished and thanked him sincerely so he knew I noticed how hard he worked and that I appreciated it. Remember, the money is nice but the kind word lingers in the memory long after the money is spent. But, I was thinking about this young man as I walked away in my shiny, spiffy shoes and I realized that there must be something still very special about this country of ours that people think it is worthwhile to cross dangerous and guarded borders to come here and shine shoes. That they will have a better life here. That they may be shining shoes today, but they will be paying someone tomorrow to shine their shoes. This is still the land of opportunity for many, many people. We may forget what a special place we live in, but look around you more carefully and I bet you can find reminders all around you of people who have risked much to live here. This thought seems particularly appropriate today as today is the anniversary of the first vote, taken in 1776, on the Declaration of Independence. You know, the men who signed that document were courageous, don't you? That these men were marked down on British lists for execution as traitors if captured, their lands forfeit, their families thrown out onto the street. These men knew that when they signed this document what they were risking. This makes them heroes in my book because they took the risks knowingly and willingly and not in the heat of passion. Would they sign it today? Would you? Interestingly, I recall that sometime in the 80's, the Declaration was reprinted in the form of a petition and college students in Iowa (or maybe Kansas) took to the streets to ask people to sign it. Distressingly, most people did not recognize it and a startlingly high number refused to sign on the grounds that the document was too radical. So, today, as I walk the streets of Manhattan in my dapper little suit, with my shiny shoes, I feel grateful to be an American, grateful that my ancestors took the leap of faith and got on that leaky boat in Europe and came over here, and I feel even more grateful that this is still the country which attracts those ambitious people who want to build a better life for themselves and their families. I think that as long as remain a magnet for these kinds of people, we will endure. Anyways, that's my little thought for the morning. Thanks for reading. * As for the orange tie, I am, perhaps, leaving myself open to being accused of making an unintentional political sartorial statement today. Today, in 1690 the army of England's Protestant King William III defeated the Roman Catholic King James II in the Battle of the Boyne in Ireland (Now celebrated on July 12 as "The Battle of the Orange" ). I intend to give all Irish bars a miss today and hope no one notices!

I was paging (on-line, so, maybe I was clicking) through the Spectator and came across the following description of a religious service the author attended which made me laugh and I thought I'd share it here: To cheer myself up, I went to a Sunday service at the evangelical Anglican church, Holy Trinity Brompton. Some of my best friends are happy-clappies, so about once a year I try and fail to sit through an HTB service. This year I lasted 15 minutes. For the first 10 minutes I successfully opened my heart to the power-point projectors, acoustic guitars and expressions of ecstasy. I even held out my hands and swayed, all the while terrified that I would have a religious experience and have to go to HTB for the rest of my life. Then the priest approached the microphone. ‘I think you’ll agree with me,’ he said, ‘that God is a great guy and deserves a round of applause. C’mon, everybody, let’s give God a big clap.’ Saved again. Now, in all seriousness, can you imagine something like that taking place in a Mosque in Pakistan?

All the hard work over the weekend paid off today in spades as the judge granted my motion in full after a good 45 minute oral argument. I completely turned her around from the beginning, when she said that she thought we were going to need to hold a hearing to take testimony just like the plaintiff wanted, to the end, when she said, "well, now that we've really parsed the issues it's clear that no hearing is necessary for me to decide this motion". To review, quickly, I moved to disqualify plaintiffs' lawyers on the grounds of a conflict of interest and to compel these lawyers to turn over all of the files they had since because of the conflict there could be no attorney client privilege. Oh yeah, almost forgot, I also moved to have the law firm return to the company all the legal fees they charged for this conflicted and improper representation. We had one session of argument with the judge prior to this and she allowed the other side to submit additional papers. I worked all weekend on the reply papers. It was about as close to a complete and total victory as you can get. It's nice when the good guys win one.

Did anyone see the NY Times dining section today? Wednesdays are always my favorite newspaper days because the dining section comes out. If you share this interest of mine, I highly recommend checking out Saute Wednesday, a great food website which, among other things, links to practically all of the newspaper food sections around the country and to some international ones as well. Perusing the different sections makes for a fascinating study of regional food differences. Today's NY Times made me hungry and, at least initially, make me regret my low-carb diet. Why? The recipe for homemade marshmallow sauce and the recipe for homemade butterscotch sauce . They also had hot fudge and other homemade ice cream toppings. I have a weak spot for butterscotch. I don't know how I will pull through without trying this recipe. I include both of these recipes below in case my wife is reading today and feels inspired! Now, just when I thought the Times was sadistically taunting all of us low carb types with this great ice cream sauce recipe collection, they did publish a marinade for flank steak that I am going to try this weekend. I'll report back if anyone is interested. Marshmallow Sauce 1 egg white 3/8 cup sugar 1/2 cup light corn syrup 1 tablespoon gelatin 1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt 1 teaspoon vanilla extract. 1. Place egg white in bowl of standing mixer fitted with whisk attachment, and set aside. Measure sugar, and set 3 teaspoons aside. 2. Combine remaining sugar and the corn syrup in medium saucepan with 1/4 cup water, and bring to a boil over medium heat, stirring to combine. Cook syrup without stirring until it reaches 240 degrees, using a candy thermometer. 3. As sugar cooks, pour 3/8 cup cold water into small saucepan, and sprinkle gelatin on it. Let stand 5 minutes. Put pan over burner on very low heat, and stir to dissolve. Do not overheat. Leave pan on warm burner. 4. Just before sugar syrup reaches 240 degrees, beat egg white on low speed until foamy. Add 1 teaspoon of reserved sugar and the salt. Increase heat to high, and continue beating, sprinkling with remaining 2 teaspoons, until medium-stiff peaks have formed. With mixer running, pour syrup into egg white. Beat on high speed 2 minutes. Add dissolved gelatin. Beat until fluffy and cool, about 5 minutes. Add vanilla. Sauce will hold at room temperature for 4 hours. After refrigeration, sauce may be heated over a double boiler until lukewarm, and beaten in a standing mixer until fluffy. Yield: 4 cups. Butterscotch Sauce 3 1/2 cups heavy cream 4 tablespoons unsalted butter 1/2 cup dark brown sugar 1/2 cup light brown sugar 2 teaspoons corn syrup 1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt 1 teaspoon vanilla extract 2 teaspoons dark rum. 1. Pour cream into a large saucepan, and bring to a simmer over low heat. Pull saucepan almost off burner, and reduce cream until thickened and measures about 2 1/2 cups, whisking frequently, 30 minutes. Pour hot cream into 4-cup glass measurer, and set aside. 2. In the same saucepan, melt butter over low heat until foamy. Add sugars and corn syrup, and stir with wooden spoon until melted and bubbly, about 1 minute. Pour cream into saucepan, whisking constantly, until sugars have dissolved completely and sauce is smooth, about 1 minute. Remove pan from heat. Add salt, vanilla and rum. Serve warm. To reheat sauce, warm in a saucepan over low heat, stirring constantly. Do not boil. Yield: 3 cups. Grilled Flank Steak 1/2 cup bourbon 1/2 cup soy sauce 1 1/2 pound flank steak. 1. In small bowl, whisk together bourbon, soy sauce and half a cup of water to make a marinade. Pour marinade into a gallon-size self-sealing food storage bag. Put steak in bag, and turn it over several times so that the entire cut is coated. Marinate in refrigerator 2 hours, turning steak once after an hour. Pour off marinade and blot steak dry with paper towels. 2. Prepare a fire in the grill. When flames have subsided and coals are glowing, grill steak 4 minutes on one side for rare, 5 minutes for medium rare. Turn steak, and grill 3 or 4 minutes more, to taste. 3. Transfer steak to a cutting board, lightly cover with aluminum foil, and let rest 5 minutes. Slice steak crosswise into 1/8-inch-thick slices. Yield: 6 servings.

I saw someone reading a newspaper on the train this morning and the headline caught my eye: Soon-to-be-governor names special ethics czar. What is an ethics czar? I don't approve of the use of the word czar by our government. The definition from dictionary.com includes, besides the Emperor of Russia, the following: "A person having great power; an autocrat". I don't know when this first started, this trend towards naming government officials after the title once held by Peter the Great, but I don't care for it. How is an autocrat, no matter who styles him that, compatible with our system of representative government? It ain't. It's silly and I wish they'd stop naming people czar.

I know it's been mighty quiet today, but I've been in and out of the office all day. A breakfast meeting with someone who is becoming a new friend, I think. That's awfully nice. He's a little younger than I am but has led quite an interesting life -- government agent to B-school to the brave world of venture cap investing. It's exciting to make new friends and I think it happens less and less often as we get older. Friendships form from shared interests or shared experiences and, as you get older, I think you may become less open to all of these things and more focused on your home and home life. Alexis de Tocqueville wrote about this tendency in his brilliant book, "Democracy in America". He thought that we as Americans had a tendency to withdraw into our little fortresses and hold off the outside world. Personally, I think he was projecting a bit from his experiences growing up in France where the motto might as well be: "Strong fences make for good neighbors". Although, that didn't work as well as they liked, of course, with the strongest fence they ever built -- the Maginot Line (caution, this link is to a real Time Suck of the Day site). He also thought that community democracy as practiced through the concept of "self interest properly understood" was the only saving grace which could pull us out of our caves. I love Tocqueville. I think he was a genius. He was also only 26 when he wrote that book. I felt quite depressed when I got to 26 and had not managed an equivalent accomplishment. Someone wrote that you should never apologize for not blogging. I don't really understand why that would be, but so be it. I'm not apologizing for not blogging today. Instead, I regret that I was not able to blog. I was thinking about it while I was waiting for the judge to call our case in the bankruptcy court today and I was looking around the courtroom trying to imagine the interior lives of the other people. This, to some extent, is a reflection of my interior life. I have to think everyone has one. I just don't know how rich it is. Do they reflect on things as they happen? Do they question their observations? Or is it all one long variation of reality television for them? Something not at all like "all the worlds a stage and I am just a player" because they remain too passive and don't even rise to the level of a player? You follow me, right? I suppose everyone has dreams, but do they critically examine their dreams or are the dreams just disconnected images of nice cars and swish clothes purchased with that lucky lottery ticket? What were the people in court thinking about today? Their dry cleaning? The next case? It's a total mystery to me. I'm glad I have this, though. It makes me happy to write and happy to reflect. It forces a discipline on my own meandering process of reflection which I think can only redound to my benefit. It's also a creative outlet in a career where creative writing takes a mighty big back seat to persuasive writing. I mentioned in a comment that I'd post an example of a snarky line I included in a brief this weekend. It was in reference to a motion I was working on -- and am going to argue to the court tomorrow -- to disqualify opposing counsel on the grounds that they are engaged in a conflicted representation, having represented my client in the very recent past and are now suing my client. As Canadian counsel asked me, are you allowed to do that in NY because we certainly can't in Canada? No, I told him, we cannot either. In the affirmation in opposition put in by opposing counsel, she discusses how she met her current client, the plaintiff, in connection with the representation of a another client seeking capital financing which that client unsuccessfully pursued through the plaintiff. It occurred to me that opposing counsel just violated another disciplinary rule by disclosing without permission, confidential information concerning the representation of a prior client. Look at it like this, would you like your lawyer putting into publically filed documents that you Mr. Joe Smith had been turned down for a mortgage and credit cards? This was the equivalent, it seemed to me. She had also revealed client confidences of my client in her papers. So, I referred the court to this gratuitous piece of information, and asked, "Has this law firm ever met a client confidence it felt compelled to keep?" There, you just read a lot of text to get to one snarky line. I hope it was not a disappointment. Wish me luck for argument tomorrow. I feel very good about it now. That could change in a heartbeat tomorrow. The title is meant as a reference to the sound you might have heard if you pulled up the blog today and found. . .nothing. At least, until now.

Sorry so quiet today. Not feeling the blogging mojo so much, I guess. I was here all weekend working on a reply to papers I was served with at 4:45 on Friday evening. (Go ahead, you know you want to say it: prick!) I put in two over ten hour days this weekend and have it totally turned around on my honorable adversary (read: the prick). I sent my draft papers in reply (a memorandum of law, an affirmation for me to sign, and an affidavit for the client) to my client for his review and comments and he called me and said: "You know, when we spoke on Friday after you saw their papers, you sounded kind of glum and when I read their papers I thought we had a real problem. Well, I read your reply and I cannot believe how you turned it around in just two days. You did a great job, I'm really impressed." And just like that, the tiredness fell away and I was re-charged and re-energized to fight the good fight. A little appreciation, and a kind word, can go a looooong way (I type this as I am still drinking from Saturday's open can of Diet Coke and not even minding it much).

Today in history is full of interesting things. In: *1778 Mary Ludwig Hayes "Molly Pitcher" aids American patriots *1820 Tomato is proven nonpoisonous *1838 Britain's Queen Victoria crowned in Westminster Abbey *1905 Russian sailors mutiny aboard the battleship "Potemkin" And, I must confess I did not know this and am struck by the coincidence, if it was, *1914 Assassination of the heir to the throne of Austria, Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife, Sophia, in Sarajevo by a Serbian Nationalist,Gavrilo Princip. This incident precipitated a war with Serbia, eventually starting WW I (note, they just found the pistol used in that assassination) -and- *1919 Treaty of Versailles ending WW I signed In between the assassination and the treaty, a grand total of: *65,038,810 people were mobolized; *8,538,315 of whom were killed; *21,219,452 of whom were wounded; *7,750,919 of whom were taken prisoner or were missing; and, *37,508,686 of whom constitute total casualties. *57.6% of those mobilized were casualties. source for above figures. Is it no wonder that it was called the War to End All Wars? * * * Finally, and on a lighter note, we have some birthdays: *1577 Peter Paul Rubens, Flemish Baroque painter (Circumcision) *1712 Jean Jacques Rousseau, social contractor (Confessions) *1902 Richard Rodgers, composer (Rodgers & Hammerstein) who I mentioned here before. *1926 Mel Brooks comedian/actor/director (Blazing Saddles, Spaceballs) *1946 Gilda Radner, comedienne (SNL-Baba Wawa) *1966 John Cusack actor (Stand By Me, Sure Thing, Better Off Dead)

1. As we were discussing an upcoming event, I asked, rhetorically, "If not now, when?" only to hear from the girl child -- "Thursday". It's as good an answer as any. 2. The doorbell rang and it was the local Democratic Party chief looking for the previous owners of our house. My daughter and I answered the door. I explained that the previous owners had moved and he looked at us and said to my daughter, "so, are you a democrat?" And my little 3 1/2 year old looked back at him and just said, "no". He was nonplussed and that ended the conversation. I swear I did not coach her before hand and I managed not to laugh. But I did find it very funny.

There is a very interesting looking exhibit at the NY Public Library, main branch at 41st and Fifth, on the Declaration of Independence. The Library is displaying the copy of the Declaration of Independence in Thomas Jefferson's hand, several other landmark versions of the document, early newspaper printings, and a letter from Benjamin Franklin to George Washington. This handwritten copy by Thomas Jefferson is one of only two complete copies known to be in existence. I'm going to definitely get over to check it out. Anyone want to come see it with me?

It's probably not what you think. The Gay Pride Parade is going on right outside my office and the music totally rocks. I LOVE the gay house/dance music. Seriously, I go buy the Gay Pride CD every year down in Chelsea. How the hell do these people expect me to be able to concentrate on the memorandum of law I am drafting for submission to the Court on Tuesday (for argument on Wednesday) with this excellent, get up out of seat and dance, music pounding away just steps from my building? The music is killing my concentration! And it makes me want to get down there, join in, cheer, and "stand by my man"!!! Let's hear it for gay marriage! All of you other Republicans who want to join me on this issue, come on out of your closets, so to speak! Update: Now, I wanna be, a macho man.

I have big plans tonight. We are keeping the kids up late and taking them over for a beach bonfire and s'mores party. My daughter has never had one but grasped the concept immediately upon explanation. I told her that you take graham crackers and chocolate and marshmallows and you melt them. And she chimed in, "and then you eat it, right?" She is very excited. And she should be. We will, of course, have to restrain the boy child in a stroller during the bonfire as it seems like a less than ideal time to teach him the old, fire-hot lesson. Sounds like fun, no? I also think it sounds like something right out of the 1950's, but that's ok. I like the idea of wholesome and old fashioned. And you can't beat the beauty of sugar-rush, past their bedtime, over stimulated whining. And I mean me, of course.

My post below, with the great pictures of the Old Penn Station in NY, got me to thinking back to the days when I used to spend weeks at a time in Detroit, MI on depositions. While taking taxi rides to and from airport, I would pass the time looking out the window for snipers. And that's when I saw this building, Detroit's Abandoned Michigan Central Station. It sits all by itself with nothing around it. It is a magnificent looking structure. You should check out the pictures in the link. Here is an old postcard of the building. And here is another excellent site with two fascinating photo essays, one called either Joy Road or Easter and the other the Detroit Train Station. Detroit was a very scary place. We spent very little time outside in the city itself. We'd go from hotel to office and back and eat all of our meals at the hotel. A large part of the time there, we stayed at the Detroit Athletic Club, which was this magnificent palace, as you can see from the link. There was one day, however, when I had nothing to do and so I took myself off to the Detroit Institute of Art. Remember, if you will, that Detroit had a lot of money at one point and citizens who wanted Detroit to be able to hold its head up high in comparison to Chicago, for instance. Result? The DIA. This was a nice collection, as I recall some almost 10 years later. The real treasure there is Rivera Court , a series of murals painted by Diego Rivera showing the industrial process of the creation of cars. I could not find a link to Rivera Court at the DIE site and have, instead, linked to the museum store. But I did find this cool photo archive of Rivera at the DIE with views of him creating and showing his murals.

Today is the anniversary of the murder, in 1906, of architect Stanford White. White, the most prominent architect of his day, was shot in Madison Square Garden, which he designed, by Harry Thaw. Thaw was the playboy / jealous husband of Evelyn Nesbit, a dancer. Let's look back, shall we? This website has a rather long and detailed account of the murder. White was a notorious womanizer. Thaw was the son of a mining and rail road baron from Pittsburgh and was the heir apparent to that fortune. Thaw was also considered to be mentally unstable for most of his life. The trial that followed the murder was dubbed the "trial of the century" and the court-room was packed. I suppose it was the OJ trial of its day. There were fantastic allegations of drugged champagne, girls swinging on velvet swings, illicit sex (and isn't that the best kind?), and other scandalous and shocking revelations about high society. Thaw got off on insanity grounds. The movie, Ragtime, was based on these events. One site has eleven of the great Stanford White buildings online, if you are curious. White's firm designed the old Pennsylvania Railroad Station in New York, pictures of which can be found here. As you can see from the photos, it was magnificent. It was torn down in 1963. The destruction of Penn Station led to the formation of the historical preservation movement in NY and was directly responsible for the creation of the Landmarks Commission. P.S. While poking around, I came across this link to Lands End, a White house for sale on the Gold Coast of Long Island.

On this day in … * 1876, Lt. Col. George A. Custer and his 7th Cavalry were wiped out by Sioux and Cheyenne Indians in the Battle of the Little Bighorn in Montana; * 1942, some 1,000 British Royal Air Force bombers raided Bremen, Germany, during World War II; and, * 1950, war broke out in Korea as forces from the communist North invaded the South.

I saw an Aston Martin Vanquish this morning tooling down Madison Avenue. It made my head spin around. I did not drool, however. I have some pride, you know. Still, this is quite a piece of machinery. If you are curious, the cheapest one they list under their certified pre-owned program was just below pounds sterling 120,000. The thing is, I bet it actually costs a lot more than that in England because I suspect taxes on beasts like this are quite high.

I came across a very interesting post about 50 Great Novels at the site, a fistful of euros. I was struck by how few of the authors I knew. The list was compiled by a large German newspaper and many of the authors are German, of course. Still, it was a thoughtful post and an interesting insight into another culture's view of great literature. I recommend going to check it out.

This morning's reading was a veritable trove of good stuff today. Ok, two articles may not make a trove, but why quibble on such a beautiful morning? The famous horde of Bactrian gold has been brought back out of hiding in Afghanistan. In the late 70's, a joint team of Russian and Afghani archaeologists discovered "20,600 pieces of gold jewelry, funeral ornaments and personal belongings from 2,000-year-old burial mounds". Everyone thought that this gold was lost under the Taliban, who had a habit of destroying the Afghani past and heritage. You can see a picture here of how beautiful the workmanship was. As for architecture, we travel now to Ohio, to see an entire community of Frank Lloyd Wright inspired houses. I'd never heard of this community before, but you should follow the link and check out the pictures. I gather that the Ohio community was an offshoot of the one Utopian Community that FLW himself planned in Pleasantville, NY. Here and here are some other links to information about the Westchester community.

What's the difference? The difference is being open and willing to become engaged by what you are looking at it. Most of the time, we look but don't see. Last night, coming home on the train, I saw. It just lasted a moment, but I saw. I'll try to describe what I saw. I was on the train. We had passed over the bridge going from Manhattan to the Bronx and were entering this little canyon where the tracks are depressed and the walls on either side are high. I happened to look up out of the window for a moment and I saw a building, all alone, with nothing else around it. It was silhouetted against the sky. It was brick painted a tan or beige color, probably about 8 stories high, maybe 10. It was at an angle to me so that I was looking at its corner. And it was set against the sky, all alone. The sky was like thirty different shades of blue, streaked by some small clouds floating here and there. All of those shades of blue melded together into a blue that was achingly perfect and made more perfect by the small imperfections of the clouds. And this building thrust itself up against this perfect sky and looked, maybe because of the position of the angle or because of the juxtaposition of the three basic colors, two dimensional. It was like a painting. The train moved on and it was evanescent. I think I gasped quietly at the perfection of that moment. I hope I conveyed it here.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the youngest member of the New York Bar, my daughter, aged three and a half. Last night, I came home to hear that she had behaved very, very poorly. I told her that I was sad to hear that she had done all of these things and asked for an explanation. She said the following in reply to me: "First, you were at work so how do you know what I did?" Something along the lines of, "you can't prove a thing, counselor". I'm so proud. Sort of.

This article, A Global Power Shift in the Making, caught my eye today. Most of the time, I think that I have been more concerned about the threat to our way of life posed by the Islamisist movement and the idea of global economic realignment has been flying a bit under the radar for me. This article brought it out into the open for me very well by examining growth rates and Asia-specific tensions. I had all of the pieces floating around in my head, but the author brought them all together for me. I don't know that I agree with all of his assertions, but it is a thoughtful and interesting essay. Let me know what you think.

I was looking for a little something on Sniffen Court here in NYC and I came across this link to Forgotten Alleys in New York. Sniffen Court is a cool little enclave of buildings in the East 30's. When I went through the places they listed, I noticed that they left out Pomander Walk, so I did a quick search and found this link from the same site which has a picture of Pomander Walk. I loved Pomander Walk when we lived on the Upper West Side. The neighborhood was a bit dodgy then but it seemed like such a romantic place to live. P.S. Here's a link to an apartment for sale on Pomander Walk.

This is just sort of a weird historical footnote that people might find interesting. The pistol used to assassinate Arch-Duke Ferdinand has been found in Austria. As you all know, this killing was the spark that started WW I. I didn't know it was missing in the first place.

This website has to be a joke, right? He's not serious, is he? He's counting down to her 18th birthday? Why?

They have dug up some interesting artifacts in Stavanger. The find includes Women's jewelry, a spinning wheel, a bowl-shaped silver-plated bronze buckle, and an amber pearl. Amber is something that you see a lot of coming from the Baltic region so this would be an indication of trade patterns, perhaps. The oddest statement was made concerning a piece of stiffened pine resin which the project leader speculates was used as chewing gum: "All of us have tried to chew on stiffened pine resin at one time or another". All of us? We have? I must have been absent that day.

Simon is running a Showcase of New Blogs. People are being invited to send him posts from blogs which are under three months old for his consideration. My blog is young enough to qualify. I thought I'd ask my readers to send him a post that they particularly liked, assuming there are any, because I'm not sure I can choose. If you'd like to, pick the link and send it as follows: Submissions If you want to submit a post please title the email "Showcase entry" and include the following information in the email: 1. Your blog's name and URL 2. Your post's title and permalink 3. An excerpt or precis of the post for me to put up here to tempt people to read and link to your site. 4. Your name and a contact email address (for verification purposes only) If there are particular requests you have, please include it in the email and I will do my best to accomodate them. Please try and include all this information as I don't have the time to go hunting for it. The email address is simon[at]showcase[dot]mu[dot]nu Thanks, in advance, to anyone who wants to submit anything to Simon from my blog.

Three other articles caught my attention today and I wanted to share them with you. The first was about a young man who came here from Vietnam with nothing, got a job in a hardware store, put himself through Hunter College with a 3.96 GPA and is headed off to a doctoral program at Harvard in September. This was the American story and illustrates why we are still a draw for so many in the world. It is still true that you can realize your ambitions in America. It made me happy to see that what worked for my family is working for his. The second story is about the other side of immigration. It is about the women who cook for illegal Mexican immigrants on Long Island. The women provide these men with a taste of home and a shoulder to cry on as the men, packed three to a bedroom and a dozen to a house, chase their piece of the American dream. The difference between these men and the young Vietnamese boy above? Education and language skills. The drive to succeed is the same. Finally, this story made me very sad and I decided not to ever buy an SUV. A man in Long Island ran over and killed his 2 year old daughter on Father's Day. He didn't see her behind the SUV. The article says these accidents are more common with SUV's than with other cars. I wonder how this man will live with himself or whether he will commit suicide. The guilt and grief must be more than any one person can stand.

There was an interesting article in the NY Times today about bullying bosses. Have you ever had a boss who was a bully ("BB")? I have. I still do, in fact. My BB is named Stinky, because he is English and he doesn't always wash enough. So if you get real close to him at depositions, for instance, it'll break your concentration. Stinky is a bully. One associate who used to work here, and that reminds me that I owe her a call, used to throw up in the morning before coming to work on the days that she had to work with Stinky. On the days I worked with him, in the beginning, I used to come home from work, take a beer out of the fridge, sit down in the big, black comfy chair and not speak for about 20 minutes or so. Not one word until I was able to let the bad place go. I've seen three other associates quit rather than continue to work with him. One associate, R, liked it. He became a mini-Stinky until the other associates practically slapped him upside the head. The article discusses this phenomenon, too. The article also says that there is insufficient data about workers confronting their BB's. Well, I confronted him a couple of times. The first was in the beginning when he told me that I seemed to have a problem with his criticism and I told him that I did not have a problem being criticized, but the "manner in which he did it was positively lacerating". With that, he turned and walked out of my office and did not speak again to me for weeks. It was bliss. I'm still not sure why that was such a horrible thing to say, but it worked. Stinky has class problems. He brought them with him from the England in the early 60's where he grew up in a large Irish-Catholic family in London when, I bet, it wasn't so easy to be Irish-Catholic in England. He claims to have no class problems at all. Untrue. Let me give you an example. I said something to him, not that long ago, and said, "that was not criticism" and he snorted and said, "how could it be? You are an associate and I am a partner, you couldn't criticize me". See what I mean? That's a social position/class issue in my mind. Stinky also has this faux-hail-fellow-well-met persona. You never know if he's actually angry with you or just in a good mood. That keeps you off balance and guessing. I dislike working with him and I hate reporting to him when I have to. He is one of the big reasons I don't think I want to become a partner here. I'm not taking this much further today down memory lane with him because almost none of them are good. Have any of you had BB experiences? I bet you have.

Envy is an ugly and destructive emotion. Most of the time I am free of it. One person, upon reading this post of mine from yesterday asked why I was envious of my friend. So, I went back to re-read my post to see if I did convey envy. I don't think I did. Was it a model of clarity? No and I acknowledge that at the end. I do not envy my friend his success. He has worked very, very hard for it and made sacrifices I would be unwilling to make. Indeed, I turned down a job offer doing criminal fraud prosecutions for the Department of Justice, pretty close to my dream position, because travel would have been a minimum of 50% of the time. That price was too high for me to pay and that sacrifice of never seeing my children was too great to make. He's paying that price every day. So, no envy here. I instead am using my friend's career as a yard stick to measure my own against and I felt that it comes up a bit short. I think that my friend seems to have more options than I do right now. As I said, I'm feeling a bit trapped at the moment. This happens periodically and probably means that I need a vacation. Still, there was a job opening I saw yesterday for my wife's skill set in New Zealand and I have to admit that I asked her to apply. . .

This was funny. Go here and type in a url, like maybe a blog address, and check it out as Snoop'll "traaanslate it from tha shizzle to da shiznit". Official government websites come across as interesting, too. Hat tip to Amber who left us this little offering while she recharges on a short vacation. Thanks, Amber!

Came across an interesting article on Jewish World Review today, which I though I'd share with you. It's about how to get deals in new computer equipment. Among the helpful suggestions was this little gem, a listing of the websites which aggregate the special promotional codes used at various websites. If you don't feel like following the link, here it is: Secret codes. Most online merchants provide an opportunity during the checkout process to enter a promotional code. Type it in and your total amount is automatically reduced, or you might get free shipping. Think of these codes as you would a coupon or gift certificate. Getting those promotional codes is easy so long as you know where to look. Here are some Web sites that list codes and online coupons: *CurrentCodes *CoolSavings *DealCatcher *eDealFinder *DealHunting *Hot Deals Web *BargainDog These sites get the codes from retailers looking for free advertising. Promotional codes are distributed by the retailers to improve sales. Many regular customers of these stores get the codes by e-mail or regular mail. The retailers hope that by stealthily "leaking" promotional codes, their marketing efforts will expand as recipients pass the information on to friends. Tip: These companies are going to add your e-mail address to marketing lists. If you don't want to end up with a lot of junk e-mail, create a new, free e-mail account at www.yahoo.com or www.hotmail.com that you use when visiting these sites. By the way, Jewish World Review is an interesting website/news letter. It collects and publishes interesting essays on current affairs and politics. It has a conservative bent. It's a daily glance for me.

If you read below, you'll see that I had a lengthy dinner with a dear, old friend Friday night. It got me thinking about the progression of life, about our movement through things. Up to now, most of our progress has been about preparation. We've been to school and maybe taken graduate degrees. We've studied, we've trained, and we've spent the first 21 years or so of our lives doing it. Then, we were set free to wreak havoc on the workforce, to find our way. To apply our training and our studies. To learn to live on our own. The living on our own part is interesting to me, too, because for the first couple of years it feels like you're playing house. That continues for years. This is the growing process, post school. This is what we are probably at the end of now. I say probably because it will be only with the benefit of hindsight that I will be able to say whether I had it right or whether I was just being self-importantly pretentious. Probably a combination of the two. Are you happy about where you are in the progression? I feel as if I am not nearly accomplished enough. I read today in the NY Law Journal that Columbia University Law School has appointed a new dean to head up the place. He's 35. One year younger than me. Ouch. Things like that make me reevaluate my own progression and I am not thrilled with how I am measuring up of late. I'm feeling a bit stuck. Stuck in NY, stuck in my job, stuck in my career. I think I'd like an adventure. Indeed, I encouraged my wife to post for a job in San Francisco, even though I am not admitted in California. My old friend also makes me feel stuck. He's lived all over Europe practicing law. I feel as if he too is doing more and more varied interesting things than I am. I want a change. Sometimes, by the way, it can be hard to perform this type of analysis. I'll share a little story with you by way of explanation. My wife and I were at a dinner on Thursday night and someone said that they thought I looked a good ten years younger than I really am. I was surprised by this and asked my wife about it later. She said that she couldn't really judge because to her I always kind of look 17. So, it can be difficult to use the people around you as a mirror. Sorry about the rambling nature of this post. I guess my thoughts are not too well organized on this topic. That means I'll probably come back to it, but I did want to at least start the conversation. Have to start somewhere, right?

The Constitution of the United States of America came into effect today in 1788 as the 9th State, New Hampshire, ratified it. Cool, huh?

My daughter mangled a turn of phrase Saturday night. She wanted another cashew before being packed off to bed. She looked at me and said, "Can I have another one for the street?" That was much cuter than, "one for the road".

My wife and I met a dear old friend for drinks and dinner on Friday night. I have known B (my friend's initial) since we were about two years old. Longer, in other words, than I have known my sister. His father was a Norwegian diplomat and his mother is the person who introduced me to my wife. It's been about a year since I last saw him. He lives in Vienna, Austria now and is a lawyer for a multi-national American company. He travels too much, I think, but he enjoys the work. I'll have to share some of his stories about Moscow. This is a unique friendship for me. We've lived apart more than we've lived together. There were some years together in Boston and later in NY. We were never living in Europe at the same time. But it never mattered. This is the type of cliche friendship where it seems like yesterday even if it was more than a year. We've gotten better about staying in touch together as we've gotten older and the one time it was ever awkward was when we once let it go for seven or eight years before seeing each other again. That awkwardness probably lasted for all of a half an hour. This time was no different. There was no pause, no problem, we just picked it right back up from where we were last time. The comfort derived from such an encounter, when you have shared experiences and shared memories with another dearly loved person dating back more than 30 years must be the psychic equivalent of slipping into a warm and gravity free bath. You are comforted and upheld and relieved of all stress. You know that there is probably nothing you can say to offend this person or make him think less of you. You have the ultimate security leavened with about a million old stories that you and he can pull out, and retell, and savor again. Sure, the fish may get bigger in the retelling, but you still recognize it. We've also lived through a lot of bad times together and supported each other through them. We even went through puberty together. We had the life altering conversations that you have to have with these kinds of friends. We've lived together a couple of times. Hell, he even moved in with us once or twice when relationships went bad. We laughed and ate and drank through at least two sittings at this restaurant on Friday. It was bliss. It's always this way when we get together. We hung out for five hours together. You know what? Not enough time. Never is, really. I miss him already.

While I keep you waiting for something substantive, I give you this Ugly Pregnant Prom Dress to marvel at. It was emailed to me by a friend who takes great delight in such perversities.

Interesting fact. Today, in 1815, the battle of Waterloo was fought. An interesting link can be found here, where you can see the Turner painting of the battle and, if you scroll down, a great description of the battle. Here is another description of the battle which, while the author describes it as slimmed down, is relatively comprehensive. By the way, also today, in 1812, the U.S. declared war against Great Britain in the War of 1812.

Too much supply and not enough demand for prostitutes in Norway cause them to take it on the road. What's the problem? Cheaper imported woman from the former Eastern-bloc countries are pricing the Norwegian prostitutes out of the market. Interesting application of market force.

Sorry to all of you who dropped by yesterday looking for something new. I was too pissed off to post yesterday after oral argument in front of a judge who was not prepared to the argument. As it turns out, it wasn't entirely her fault, as the clerk stamped over the front of my motion and obscured a portion of the relief I'd requested. It started out like this: Court: Mr. RP, I don't understand why you think you are entitled to get all of the files and papers from the other law firm. Me: Because the Court of Appeals says I am, your Honor. (For you non-NY lawyer types, the Court of Appeals is the highest court in the state). It sort of went downhill from there until she figured out that she had not known what I was asking for in my motion. Before that, though, the attorney for the plaintiff pretty much lied to the Court about the extent of his firm's activities. This was a motion to disqualify his firm from continuing to represent the plaintiff against the defendant because this firm had represented both parties at one point. That's a big no. In any event, my opponent way underplayed what they had done for my client. At the time my opponent was speaking, the court room was fairly noisy as the attorneys who were waiting their turn for argument were chatting. When my opponent finished, I got to go. I may have been a little more dramatic, but I had outrage on my side. When I finished my presentation, I noticed that you could hear a pin drop in the court room. Unfortunately, she gave the other side extra time to brief the issues. I, of course, get extra time to reply. And that is why I was so pissed. This should have just been submitted. The other side should not have been given another bite at that apple. That said, an older lawyer once warned me that you should be extra cautious when a judge grants all of your smaller applications leading up to an ultimate resolution. He or she may just be creating an appeal proof record. I hope that is what is happening here.