Showing posts with label Daily Living. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Daily Living. Show all posts

Saturday, March 8, 2025

The Best Posts of the Week of March 2, 2025. The week where I suffered through Influenza A.

It was a week in which, after Mass on Sunday, I took the dog out with me austensibly to go fishing and we ended up on the Sweetwater.  We walked a fair amount and I noticed, on such a nice day that I shed my coat, that I was walking fatigued.  "Out of shape?", I wondered, or just rapidly onsetting old age. 

I was having a pretty hard time.

Turned out it was Influenza A.  The next morning I was in horrific shape.  I went to work, but by noon was a wreck.  

I knew it already, but one of the negative things about being a lawyer, at least in some cases, your health matters only to you, and you keep on going anyhow.  I had to crawl down to work every day, didn't eat at night, and had the fevers of delirium all night long.  Nobody really care that much as they have things they want to you to do.  "Help me!".  So you go and do it, knowing you are killing yourself.

"You don't look good".  "You look worn out". Things I was hearing during the week.

Oh well, the weekends here . . and I worked.

The glory of the law.

The law, they say, is a jealous mistress.  As one still practicing older lawyer told me, "the law's a bitch".  Both are true.

The same week an event in 1925 recalled a proposal in 2025 that didn't go anywhere, thank goodness.

Tuesday, March 3, 1925. Monumental.



Last week's entry here was pretty grim, but in a really strange way, we seem to have turned a corner in the story of the False Trump Presidency.  Now a significant portion of the population, I'd guess well over 50%, regards him for what he is, a buffoonish demented toddler.  You have to worry about him, as he's literally a toddler with his finger on the nuclear key, and this pat week in spite of all his weird ramblings about "beautiful" young men getting killed in the Russo Ukrainian War, he showed himself willing to get more killed.  Like toddlers, he is only concerned about himself.

But now everyone, save for the most ignorant, deluded, or convinced, is simply marking time for him to die or be replaced.


We resumed looking at the collection of the National Museum of Military Vehicles in Dubois.


We were reminded of a time when the Republican Party had dignity.


We lived through a time in which it doesn't.


We recalled one of the large events prior to the Revolution, one which would end up notable for the dedication Americans of the period showed to the law in spite of passions.


We recalled the birth a jazz great who left us too soon.


The most famous Ameircan v. German tank dual of the Second World War took place, in a dense urban environment.


Random snippets. Nero's Court.


The Ludendorff Bridge was taken in one of the great moments of World War Two.


The Madness of King Donald. The 25th Amendment Watch List.


Donny imposed tariffs and then backed off, with Mexico rolling its eyes and Canada saying "fuck you and the horse you rode in on".




Last edition:

The week of February 23, 2025. The week the US became Brazil.

Saturday, February 22, 2025

What's Wrong with the United States? We're really ignorant, and its getting worse.

Can you imagine this scene today?  The older man (who in context is probably in his 50s) would be staring blankly into space, while the young woman looked at TikTok videos.

21% of adults in the US are illiterate. 54% of American adults have a literacy below a 6th-grade level. 

And we wonder how Trump got elected?

The illiterate are ignorant, and blisteringly ignorant people vote for stupid stuff.

I had a very strange experience the other day, which I need to be indistinct about.

It had to do with homeschooling.

Twice in recent weeks I've run across a topic that's in the legislature, that being the legal requirement, which the Wyoming 2025 Legislative assembly is about to wipe out, that home schooling parents submit their educational plans to their local school districts.  The requirement is there to prevent parents from basically not educating their children.

Not educating children is what homeschooling is all about.

This wasn't always the case, but it's become the case.  

Some background.

My father was the first male in his family to graduate from high school.  He might have been the third member of the family, as I don't know that much about my paternal grandmother's early life in that fashion.  She probably graduated high school in Denver however, likely from a Catholic high school.  His older sister graduated from a high school in Scottsbluff.

My father went on to a doctorate.

My paternal grandfather, who left school to work at age 13, had such an advance knowledge of mathematics that he helped his children with their high school calculus homework, which is revealing for two reasons, one that is amazing on his part, and secondly all of my father's siblings took calculus in high school.

I didn't take calculus in high school

My father could speak two languages, English and German, and had a knowledge of Latin.  My paternal grandfather also could speak two languages, English and German, and had a knowledge of Latin.

My mother did not graduate from high school She was not given the opportunity to.  She earned an Associates as a an adult.  Her mother was university educated, as was her father.  They all spoke two languages, English and French, and had a command of Latin.

Growing up in my family household was like getting a post doctorate in some things, history and science in particular.  I read so early that I was on to adult books before I left grade school and had the odd experience of a junior high librarian not wishing to check a history book as she feared it was too advance.  I read The Rise and Fall of the Roman Empire before I left junior high.

I was in fact educated on a lot of stuff at home. . . but I was sent to school.

There's an interesting pattern here.  Some of my friends of my age had college educated parents, but not all of them did.  But all of my friends attended college or university.  Not all graduated, but they did receive some post high school education.  One of my closest friends had a father who did not graduate from high school.  He joined the Army in his senior year to fight in World War Two, following in the footsteps of a father who had fought in World War One.  My friend has two bachelors degrees.

And there's another thing here.  Even those people I knew from my generation, and the prior one, who had parents that didn't graduate high school, had quite literate parents.  If I ever went into a house that didn't have a lot of books somewhere, it was shocking.  I can only really recall one.  The home of my friend noted above was like a library.  My parents house  and that of all of my aunts and uncles were packed with books.  In my parents house you could find a few books that were in German or French.  A friend of mine who did not graduate from high school, but none the less went off to university, recalled his grandparents house being packed with books in . . . Gaelic.

My paternal grandmother absolutely insisted that my father go on to get an advanced degree, something he briefly though about not doing.  His unmarried sister near in age to him was sent to university as well.  I was given no real choice but to go on to higher education myself.  

And this was common for people my generation, and the preceding one.  Farm and ranch family in particular often had a manic dedication to higher education.

Home schooling has been around since time immemorial, I suppose, but when I was a kid, what it probably meant, where I live, is that the kid in question was living on a really remote ranch.  Even then, most ranching parents made a dedicated effort to avoid that.  More than a few had a teacher who lived at the ranch, paid for by the school district.  The county I live in had four rural remote public schools, of which only one is still in operation.  The neighboring one had some so remote that if you run across them on really rural roads its a shock.  The teachers at these institutions were admired in a way that's hard to describe.  Anything going on in the area always included them.

I didn't know a single homeschooled kid growing up.

Next to home schooling, of course, is private schooling.  When I was young the only private school I ever heard of was the Catholic school.  It was a big downtown school.  It's moved from downtown, but it still exists.  Catholic education had long been a thing in the US and apparently Catholics are supposed to send their kids to Catholic schools if they can, but I didn't go to it (it was full), nor did our kids.  

When in high school I learned that there was a Lutheran grade school, to my enormous surprise, as I walked by it every day.  After high school I learned that there was a "Christian" school, by which I mean a school attached to one of the sort of due it yourself evangelical Protestant groups.  It started in 1978, so I would have been in high school when it commenced operating.  The ministers for that church, at the time, were drawn from the congregation, and I later met one who was ironically adverse with its tenants as he was a geologist who accepted the truth of evolution, which the church did not.

A church that thinks evolution is a fib, probably doesn't have it taught in its schools.

Which is the point, really.  The goal of a large amount of modern homeschooling is to keep students as ignorant as possible, which is conceived of as limiting tehir "exposure" to corrupting elements.

I've been exposed to a few homeschooled kids over the years and frankly a lot of them were rather weird and very socially awkward.  Having said that, I've met one kid, and know of another, from a homeschooling family who were not that way, and one of which went on to a really high dollar career.

Now, with that comment, let me note that education isn't about getting rich, or shouldn't be.  It's about the Allegory of the Cave.  The problem here is that those exposed to  the sunlight are seeking to drag the ir offspring back into it, deeper in the cave, and into chains.


The simple fact of the matter is that Americans were much more literate prior to the 1990s than they are now.  They read.  They read even if they hadn't graduated high school.

And they read a lot, and a lot of it is much more advanced than what people claim to read now.  Even people who mostly read novels often read things much more advanced than people do now.  I recall one parent of a family friend being a fanatic fan of C. S. Forester, whose novels were just that, but noen the less dealt often with the Napoleonic Wars, something a lot of current Americans probably don't know occured.  One fellow I knew in the National Guard loved Louis Lamour, so much so that he read The Walking Drum, which is set in the Middle Ages, about which he was able to speak intelligently.  Another fellow, who had been a career Marine, was reading War and Peace.

Everyone read the newspaper.  You'd frequently see periodicals in people's houses, including unfortunately Playboy on occasion, but the latter had sufficiently good interviews that my high school newspaper teacher used those as examples and adopted them for the pattern of a series in that high school journal.  Less unfortunately, you'd see Time, Newsweek and Life in people's houses routinely.  And everyone read the local newspaper, by which I mean everyone.

The National Geographic seemed to be in the home of every household that had children, including ours.  Our collection went back into the 1940s, from my father's parents home.

Cartoons didn't make much of an appearance in our house, and I"ve never developed a taste for most of the cartoon journal type of cartoons, like Superman, but what I do recall is when they showed up, it was often Mad Magazine, which actually is really adult oriented, and not in the juvenile way "adult" is often used.

The point is, when people claim people were "more educated" in the past, including populists who are not today, they tended to be, but in ways that people now just don't really quite grasp.  They often had lower levels of educational achievement, but because they lived in a literate world, they were societally educated.

You can go into a lot of homes today and find that the occupants read. . . nothing.  

Instead, people consume only what suits them.  

In almost all of the 20th Century, it wasn't really possible to hear only the news you wanted to.  Even if you limited yourself to radio, prior to the introduction of television, you were going to get a wide range of news.  Newspapers were, as noted, almost a requirement for most households.  When television came in, at first, it was highly local but the news was national and there was no avoiding it.  You weren't going to get right or left wing propaganda from anyone.

That's all passed.

Americans aren't reading.  What media they consume is self reaffirming, like Protestant sermons from the 1600s.  People are listening only to like minds, and the nation is becoming more and more ignorant.

Which is why we have Donald Trump in office.  No literate nation would elect him to anything.\

Note that this doesn't mean the population is dumb.  Ignorant and dumb are not the same thing.  But we suffer from the Jo Jo Rabbit Effect in a major way.  We're listening, basically, to ourselves, and making excuses for our failures, and justifying our appetites.

And it puts the entire globe in danger.

Friday, February 21, 2025

Saturday, February 21, 1925. A Republican President declares American Forest Week.

Fapper Fanny for this day in 1925.

There used to be an era when Republicans cared about conservation.

Declaring American Forest Week

Date: February 21, 1925 

In proclaiming American Forest Week, I desire to bring to the attention of all our people the danger that comes from the neglect of our forests.

For several years the Nation has observed Forest Protection Week. It is fitting that this observance be enlarged. We have too freely spent the rich and magnificent gift that nature bestowed on us. In our eagerness to use that gift we have stripped our forests; we have permitted fires to lay waste and devour them; we have all too often destroyed the young growth and the seed from which new forests might spring. And though we already feel the first grip of timber shortage, we have barely begun to save and restore.

We have passed the pioneer stage and are no longer excusable for continuing this unwise dissipation of a great resource. To the Nation it means the lack of an elemental necessity and the waste of keeping idle or only partly productive nearly one-fourth of our soil. To our forest-using industries it means unstable investments, the depletion of forest capital, the disbanding of established enterprises, and the decline of one of our most important industrial groups.

Our forests ought to be put to work and kept at work. I do not minimize the obstacles that have to be met, nor the difficulty of changing old ideas and practices. We must all put our hands to this common task. It is not enough that the Federal, State, and local governments take the lead. There must be a change in our national attitude. Our industries, our landowners, our farmers, all our citizens must learn to treat our forests as crops, to be used but also to be renewed. We must learn to tend our woodlands as carefully as we tend our farms.

Let us apply to this creative task the boundless energy and skill we have so long spent in harvesting the free gifts of nature. The forests of the future must be started to-day. Our children are dependent on our course. We are bound by a solemn obligation from which no evasion and no subterfuge will relieve us. Unless we fulfill our sacred responsibility to unborn generations, unless we use with gratitude and with restraint the generous and kindly gifts of Divine Providence, we shall prove ourselves unworthy guardians of a heritage we hold in trust.

NOW, THEREFORE, I, Calvin Coolidge, President of the United States of America, do recommend to the Governors of the various States to designate and set apart the week of April 27 – May 3, inclusive, 1925, as American Forest Week, and, wherever practicable and not in conflict with State law or accepted customs, to celebrate Arbor Day within that week. And I urge public officials, public and business associations, industrial leaders, forest owners, editors, educators, and all patriotic citizens to unite in the common task of forest conservation and renewal.

IN WITNESS WHEREOF, I have hereunto set my hand and caused the seal of the United States to be affixed.

DONE at the city of Washington this twenty-first day of February in the year of our Lord, one thousand nine hundred and twenty-five, and of the Independence of the United States of America the one hundred and forty-ninth.

The New Yorker premiered.


Bulgarian Prime Minister Aleksandar Tsankov declared that an internal state of war existed in the country.

David Samuel "Sam" Peckinpah was born in Fresno, California.  Growing up in a family that had strong rural Californian roots, he was haunted in some ways by passing eras, which shows itself in his films.  He was a film making genius whose works were nonetheless flawed by his wreckless demeanor and drug and alcohol abuse.

It was, of course, a Saturday.



Last edition:

Wednesday, February 18, 1925. Mayflower Hotel opens.

Friday, January 31, 2025

Saturday, January 31, 1925. Leonhard Seppala and Togo.

The longest part of the Serum Run was undertaken by Leonhard Seppala with lead dog Togo.  They ran through the dark across the dangerous ice of Norton Sound.

Seppala was Kven, a group related to the Lapps.  He's a major figure in the history of the Siberian Husky dog breed.

The Saturday magazines were out.

A few interesting adds, the first for a range with a clock.

And the second for White Truck's 25th anniversary.

Of course, the humor magazine Judge was out as well.

Last edition:

Saturday, January 18, 2025

I had no idea Sanka was this old.


1925 Sanka Coffee Advertisement

As I commented, my father used to drink Sanka, and sometimes I did as well.

Frankly, it's awful.

A recent edition of one of the History channel shows on coffee in the US, I'd note, is well worth watching.  American coffee came to be very mass produced, much like beer frankly, and like beer, it's really gone through a renaissance.  It's much better now than it was, say twenty years ago.


Wednesday, January 8, 2025

Work with meaning and the meaning of work.

You see, in this world there's two kinds of people, my friend: Those with loaded guns and those who dig. You dig.

Blondie, The Good, the Bad and the Ugly.

I have a theory that certain work is existential by nature.  My post on that from several months ago:


Why do I note this?

Well I've had a bunch of synchronicitous events happen recently that perhaps demand it being noted, assuming that anything must be noted here at all.  Because they're all sort of circular, I'll start in one spot and gather the round corral, noting that these recollections are all recent, but not chronological.

I was walking out of the sporting goods store and ran into a law school colleague.  For some reason or another, for much of my life, I've always been the youngest person in a group as a rule, even when I really shouldn't have been.  Anyhow, this fellow, like two other of my law school friends, was an older law student, in law school, although I'm not sure how old he really was then,  Two of my other friends, both Vietnam War era veterans, were in their 40s, so they're in their mid 70s now.  I think this fellow was probably in his mid to late 30s.  He remained remarkably the same looking all that time.

He kind of bounced around at first as a lawyer before landing in a firm where he practiced for maybe 20 years.  He's retired now, and has been for awhile.  He asked me if I was getting ready to retire, which I indicated I wasn't, but I did ask him about the process, and he gave me some details of how he'd gone about it.  

Good to know from somebody who has done it.

He doesn't miss practicing at all.

In contrast to this, a close friend of mine, well really a relative, who is a lawyer who must be crowding 70 told me the other day he's not going to.  He'd miss the collegiality of being a lawyer.

That answer shocked me.  Not that he wasn't going to retire, but the collegiality.

Eh?

It may be just me, but only a handful of my friends are lawyers.  I do have some lawyer friends.  But most of my friends aren't lawyers and never have been.  I wouldn't miss most lawyers whatsoever.  Indeed, I miss a lot of my genuinely close friends due to the practice of law.

This, frankly, is probably an exception to the rule.  Law is a unique profession, litigation with in the law even more so, and by and large the onliy people who have a grasp on what it is like are other lawyers.  It is, I suppose, kind of like being a combat veteran that way.  Lawyers hang out with other lawyers as they're lawyers.  

Indeed, being heavily introverted, I've often noted how much lawyers enjoy professional gatherings. They really do.  There are organizations that we're all part of and we'll go to a conference and there will be a big dinner or something, everyone goes.

Unless my spouse is with me, or one of the few lawyers I really know well and like, I tend to avoid those gatherings.

Anyhow this takes me to a second point.

I know a couple of lawyers who have lost their souls.

I don't mean in a metaphysical sense.  That is, I'm not saying they're condemned to Hell.  What I'm saying is that their personalities are gone and been absorbed by false ones in the pursuit of nothing more than money.

It happens to people.  It's not a pleasant thing to see.  

I was never friends with either of the ones I have in mind.  Interestingly, however, one seems to be trying to emerge.  One, who sank into this a long time ago actually started talking to me the other day about what he was going to do "next", something he's never said before.

A really good lawyer friend of mine is mostly retired.  Like the fellow I mentioned above, while he had his doubts, he hasn't missed the practice at all.

Another good lawyer friend of mine, a woman, is trying to transition from one practice to another.

Two women I know otherwise recently lost their jobs. They weren't lawyers.

I note that as I think women in particular are subject to the Capitalist lie that careers are existentially defining, a completely modern notion.

St Paul was a tent maker.  St. Peter a fisherman.  I don't know if there are any classic Medieval or Renaissance paintings of St. Paul making a tent, but there should be.

Why do I note that?

Well, for this reason.  You don't think much about St. Paul being a tent maker as his occupation didn't define him.  His sainthood did.  

But a lot of us moderns sure have made our occupations define us.  And women are very much doing so now.

This takes me back to the item I linked in above.

In this case, unlike my uncle, he was much younger.  My age, in fact.  I hadn't seen him for many years, and before his troubles really set in.  He hadn't been able to adjust to them well.  The most common comment from people, none of whom were surprised, was that his torment was over.

I don't have any big plans, like one of my friends, for retirement.  I hope to be healthy, and just become more of an agrarian-killetarian than I presently am.  Funny thing is that recently I've been running into people who claim "you're looking really good". Somebody asked me the other day, indeed at the funeral gathering, "you're working out", the question in the form of a statement.  Not really.

Indeed, I've gained some weight I seemingly just can't lose, which I think is the byproduct of my thyroid medicine, which has made me hungry, and I know that I'm not in the physical condition I was before my recent health troubles commenced.  People close to me just won't accept that, which brings me to the other side of the retirement coin noted above.  Some lawyers I know are already planning for me to work into my 70s, as that's the thing to do, apparently. Long-suffering spouse, for her part, won't say something like that, but from an ag family, she doesn't really accept the concept of retirement anyhow.  Having said that, I wouldn't plan on my retiring from the ag operation either.

It finally occured to me, however, what's different about agricultural jobs as opposed to others, at least if you are an owner of the enterprise or part of it.  The occupation itself is existentially human.  It is, if you will, an Existential Occupation, or at least it is right now. The mindless gerbil like advance of "progress" may ruin that and reduce it to just another occupation.

Existential Occupations are ones that run with our DNA as a species.  Being a farmer/herdsman is almost as deep in us as being a hunter or fisherman, and it stems from the same root in our being.  It's that reason, really, that people who no longer have to go to the field and stream for protein, still do, and it's the reason that people who can buy frozen Brussels sprouts at Riddleys' still grown them on their lots.  And its the reason that people who have never been around livestock will feel, after they get a small lot, that they need a cow, a goat, or chickens.  It's in us.  That's why people don't retire from real agriculture.

It's not the only occupation of that type, we might note.  Clerics are in that category.  Storytellers and Historians are as well.  We've worshiped the Devine since our onset as a species, and we've told stories and kept our history as story the entire time.  They're all existential in nature.  Those who build certain things probably fit into that category as well, as we've always done that.  The fact that people tinker with machinery as a hobby would suggest that it's like that as well.

Indeed, if it's an occupation. . . and also a hobby, that's a good clue that its an Existential Occupation.

If I were to retire from my career, which I can't right now, I wouldn't be one of those people who spend their time traveling to Rome or Paris or wherever.  I have very low interest in doing that.  I'd spend my time writing, fishing, hunting, gardening (and livestock tending).  That probably sounds pretty dull to most people.  I could imagine myself checking our Iceland or Ireland, or fjords in Norway, but I likely never will.

That's more than I really need for my point here, but it ties in, this way.

Most careers are just jobs. They're an industrial way of separating you from your homes to make money for somebody else, in exchange for which you make some money too.  This was done to men first, and then with the "women's liberation" movement of the 1960s, women drank the KookAide and have been wondering when the good feels will arrive.

They won't.

Most jobs have no greater existential meaning than that.  If you define yourself by them, you are defining yourself as a fiction.

Which is why I worry about the lawyers who collapse into the cartoonish litigation personality.  It makes you a cartoon, and not a very interesting one.

It's also why lawyers who become deep dive into the Whaling For Justice personality, or something like it, sort of boil off the people they were and become somebody nobody is interested in.

And I also think that's why old lawyers have a hard time retiring.  After selling your life away, is this it?  It must be. This must be it.  I must love this as otherwise. . . .

I will note, and strongly, that I'm not advocating here for something that seems to be a current rage.  Don't get any post high school education and hope for the best.

Indeed, the advocates of that, don't mean that.  They mean don't forget to look at occupations where you work with your hands.
Now listen to me, all of you. You are all condemned men. We keep you alive to serve this ship. So row well, and live.

Quintus Arrius, Ben Hur.

The truth of the matter is that we sell our lives for a living, but we shouldn't sell our souls.  A lot of career propaganda emphasis the nifty life you are supposed to have, but not the risk of losing your soul, and here I mean in both senses.  Being able to sell the minutes of your life away for a decent return means that you need to have skills of some sort that are valuable.  People should try to acquire those if for nothing else their own protection.

Women, I'd note, are particularly vulnerable here.  A woman with a professional degree, such as law, is armed against loss of employer.  A woman who doesn't have some sort of valuable skill is at the mercy of her employer.  They're the ones who lose their jobs readily, and who are subject to all sorts of risks.  

The trick, I guess, is to get those skills and remember that we shouldn't lose who we are.

One group of people who tend to make that career choice are people who work for the government. They're often grossly underpaid, but they also tend to have weighted the options and elected towards "quality of life".  Lawyers who work for the AG's office, or biologists who work for state and Federal agencies provide such examples.  

Interestingly, people on the outside in the same fields tend to hold these people in contempt.  I guess people working 80 hours a week to make a go of it are naturally resentful towards those who do not.  But those people are often very dedicated to their professions and even more purist than those who sell their labor in the private market.  A dear cousin of mine who recently died was one such example.  She was a research biologist at a university.  

We're about to head into a Federal administration here that seems to contain a contempt to government employees.  Indeed one recent campaign featured somebody who wants to limit the amount of time you can work for the Federal government.  The same campaign repeatedly noted the candidates rural roots.

The rural roots are real, but what an irony.  Descending from homesteaders means that you descent from the biggest American welfare program ever, one that used the U.S. Army to violently expel land occupants due to their race, to hand it out to European Americans.  Don't mistake my point, I love agriculture and regard it as an existential occupation, and if I'd been alive when you could have homesteaded, I would have.  But people who loved the land so much they fought for it, and lost, had the moral high ground on that, and those who came in behind them benefitted from the Federal largess and murder.
If you work for a living, why do you kill yourself working?
Tuco, The Good, the Bad and the Ugly.

Genesis tells us that since we sinned in the Garden, we've condemned ourselves to work.  But it's also obvious that work was always part of the plan.  It's interesting how well this comports to how evolution and societal development worked.  We were likely a very happy group as aboriginals, and we know now that depression and modern angst is unknown in hunter gatherer societies.  But we ate from the tree of knowledge and acquired it, 

Well, now we have to work.  Make the best of it.

Monday, December 30, 2024

The law and Christmas.


Years and years ago, opposing council in a case, who was significantly older than me, remarked to me "remember when we used to all close down on Christmas and remain closed until January 2, we'd go duck hunting. . . "

Well, no, I didn't remember a time like that.  I asked an older partner if he remembered that, and he didn't either.

I don't think it really happened.

Quite frankly, the law has sort of ruined Christmas in some ways for me, or it conspires to do so most years.  Last year, 2023, was an exception as I did get a lot more time off than usual, and we went to Hawaii, coming back on December 24.  I think I took Boxing Day off as well, and some time later that week.

Most of the time I do try to take Boxing Day off.  I didn't this year.  I worked.  

For that matter, I worked December 28th and 29th as well.  Only the afternoon of the 29th was taken off, and part of that was spent running errands, some connected with work.

One of the things that happens at the end of the year is you try to get all of your end of the year projects done and end of the year bills.  It's frantic, quite frankly, and a big and tiring effort.  Yesterday reminded me of that.

To clients, every project is hugely important. But to civil litigators, who tend to also have civil practices, that's not really the case.  All projects for your regular clients are major projects. All big litigation is too. These take absolute priority, as they must.

Everyone, in contrast, has some small projects that come in the door. One off matters that are basically favors to somebody, or sometimes very tiny projects that come in as somebody asks to whom you cannot say no.

I had a tiny one towards the end of the year this year.  It evolved, as they always do, into a more complicated one than I initially thought it would be, involving me opening two court files to deal with it.  The parties were in a hurry, and we expedited it. There's no way for the clients to know how difficult this really is, and the extent to which a lot of lawyers, myself included, strive to make this as economic as possible for the clients.  Frankly, we lose money doing them, which is almost impossible for the actual clients to realize.

When it was completed, which was in December, the client started calling right away for a bill.  I get that, but in the scheme of things, reviewing the bill, and unlike the protagonist in The Firm, I review and correct every single one, takes time.  Briefs take time.  Answering complaints takes time.  Drafting complaints takes time. So I didn't finish it.

Yesterday (this was drafted on December 27) I was working on complaints, answering and prosecuting, in some extremely complicated matters.  The client dropped in.  "Where's the bill?".

This requires me to stop what I'm doing and try to mark it.  I.e., I'm going through hundreds of pages of contractual materials (think, if you'd like, of the paper review scene in Clueless), put some sort of marker on this in an electronic form, and turn my attention to this matter.

Which I did.

In fact, as it was small, I just told my bookkeeper to bill the cost, the rest is pro bono.

Work out great on Boxing Day?

No, not really.  The client didn't have the money to pay the costs and asked to make arrangements.

Oh well.

I'll note that the law intervenes in other ways as well, which it likely does in other professions.  If you work in a place for a period of years, particularly in a professional office, those you work with are with you more than other people and most firms have some sort of Christmas tradition, a part, and then usually a professionals gathering for a celebratory lunch or something.  I missed the party this year as I'd scheduled depositions that day.  I just forgot what day it was on.  And I was extremely sick by the time I came home.

The lunch of the professionals is on Christmas Eve, or rather the day before Christmas.  I've become more tense about such things as I've grown older, but we've all grown older.  We take the afternoon of the 24th off, but in my case, what that means is trying to get home in time for early Christmas Vigil Mass.  Christmas is, after all, "Christ's Mass", and that's very much how I view it.  Given that, I feel weird having a couple of drinks at noon.  I forget that for a lot of people, the connection with Christianity is muted and its a secular holiday to a large degree.

Monday, December 16, 2024

Blog Mirror: It's Not Just A Cold, It's 'Sickness Behavior'

So this explains it:

It's Not Just A Cold, It's 'Sickness Behavior'

Ugh.

I have less in the way of visible signs of having a cold today, but I'm dead tired and dragging myself through work.

I drug myself through the day yesterday.  The day before, I went elk hunting as the last day was coming up, even though I should not have.  That was a struggle, although one I put in miles for anyhow.

Wednesday, November 20, 2024

Thursday, November 20, 1924. The marriage of my father's parents.

Which was oddly a Thursday.  I think of most weddings being on Saturday.

At least they are now.

The wedding was in Denver, where they had met and where my grandfather was working.  They'd live there until 1937, when they'd move to Scottsbluff.  In that time they had all of their children save for one, who would be born in Scottsbluff, the first one being born in 1926 and my father being born in 1929.

They were both 23 years old.  He had been on his own since age 13.  She was living with her parents in Denver, where they had moved after her father had closed his store in Leadville.  Her parents were of 100% Irish extraction, with her mother being from Cork.  His parents were of 100% Westphalian extraction.  They were both Catholic, although I don't know what church they were married in.  Likey one of the Catholic churches downtown.

The American Automobile Association of State Highway Officials approved a resolution recommending that states agree to a consistent system of numbered highways.

Last edition:

Tuesday, November 18, 1924. Adding to the public domain.