Bobby Farrell, RIP

Only a man of his stature could make Russian History this interesting. Truly a titan of the historical-music arts. If this video doesn't make you want to dance around Red Square in fur, I don't know what's wrong with you.



My favourite lyrics? "He could preach the Bible like a preacher." Absolutely brilliant.

2010 - Recap

It's the end of the year, and the end of the year means a couple of things. First, we're subjected to a litany of "end of the year lists." Now, I'm generally a fan of lists, but having a list for every conceivable category seems a bit unnecessary. Which of course, is what we inevitably have. Second... well, I don't know what is second. There's just a lot of stuff.

But I think I'd like to recap what has been an eventful year - not necessarily because I feel a need to project anything but because personally, I find value in looking back. This is an exercise for myself, and if the Internet and my readership wants to be witness to it, I hope they find it insightful as well.

Personal

I always thought that 2010 sounded so futuristic, representative of the sleek future I used to see in cartoons and movies. And to some extent, it is. I don't have a flying car or a robot maid, but for better or for worse, I do carry a computer in my pocket. Honestly, I find it, and all that it represents, a source of constant tension. I think that increasing technology does correspond, to a certain extent, with a loss of humanity. Maybe I'm being paranoid, maybe I just don't know how to utilize the smartphone to the pinnacle of functioning that I read about so often, but maybe I'm also on to something. Maybe the future, with all its promise, shouldn't move too quickly. We won't know what to do with ourselves.



There's a romanticism in simple things, which even amongst the progress, I think I've enjoyed most this past year. One thing that sticks out is having Twins season tickets in their first year outside at Target Field. Sure, the ballpark is a marvel, replete with the latest technology, but at it's heart, it's just a place to watch nine people play an old, old game outside. I appreciate that, and I think I can say that there are few things I'd rather be doing on a warm summer night. Especially when accompanied by good friends and a Twins win. I'll especially enjoy those especial things when sitting in section 125 with a Grain Belt next season...

I can't keep up with all the things I think of, but I hope I've put out some interesting content on this blog. I think I'm good at it, I like writing for everyone, and I love it when my writing inspires people to write a comment or express interest in my topic du jour. Another simple pleasure. I'm happy to say that I've recently gotten a ton of new music to listen to and review, so I hope to get working on that. And commensurate with my behind the times persona, I've been getting my mind blown away recently by Radiohead. Cool.

I suppose mention has to be made of my burgeoning career as a craft brewer. No kidding aside, I really think the past few brews have been plenty worthy of resale, and I'm hoping that we can evolve that process in the next year. I know, I know, the MN Brew Blog has been on a bit of a hiatus, but I promise, that will go on the list for 2011. Maybe some beer reviews? Even with the subpar blogging, it's fun to say you've been able to make something good, to make something with your hands. There's a certain type of primordial swelling that comes from enjoying something tangible, borne from one's own toil.

Although not simple, I had the good fortune this year to fall in love this year, with a woman who was very, very dear to me. I think that required a level of honesty, both with myself and with her, that was akin to being naked in the middle of downtown Minneapolis. In terms of self-awareness, that moment of realization has to go down as a personal watershed. It was liberating to tell her, I don't regret a single bit of it, and have since concluded after much reflection, that it was real, and not the result of thoughtless passion.

Of course, I should probably mention that I also had the bad fortune of falling in love with a woman who was unable, or unwilling, to reciprocate those feelings in the way that I needed. I've thought quite a bit about that cruel twist, and tried my best to decipher its cosmic significance - but of course, unlike the Jones Act or the CISG, no amount of analysis can make anything clearer. It will never make any sense to me.

But then again, maybe it shouldn't, which is a difficult realization to accept. I suppose the importance of that whole episode comes from the trial, the tribulation of being scorned. Foolishly, I often find myself hoping that she will evolve to a point where she wants what I do. It makes no sense to dwell on that which you cannot control, but that's much easier said than done. Oddly enough, if anything, 2010 told me that life is a result of decisions that we choose to make, the risks we choose to take. Be it personal or academic, matters of the head or heart, there's always a choice. Myself, in most instances, I think I'll choose to jump.

I was discussing with a friend recently how oftentimes, personal success is engaged in a tripartite balancing act (in my case), with professional and academic success. Personally, this year has been positive in terms of self-awareness, but negative in terms of results. And of course, results is what counts to the outside observer, and most times, to oneself. When the calendar flipped to The Future last year, I was convinced that that personal aspect would be high on results, mainly because I do have a bit of an egoist streak. I felt as though I was on the cusp of real adulthood, with a cushy internship, stellar grades, and on the brink of dating a wonderful girl. The last part didn't happen, and I regret that, but at some point, I won't.

Professional and Academic

Professionally, 2010 has been a watershed. I had the good fortune to have an internship with the United States Attorney, which forced me to really open my eyes to a new career path; that being a government attorney. It was refreshing to be given real responsibility, and rewarding to have working relationships. I also was fortunate enough to work out in Glencoe for the summer with a fine judge, as well as be able to work in other rural and suburban courthouses. Although the commute seemed rough at times, it gave me a lot of time to think, which is a good thing. Folks in Glencoe are not impressed with your iPhone or your Blu-Ray - they're impressed by being honest, and working hard. It was refreshing.



And of course, I'm extremely grateful to have gotten a job working for the county attorney. I appreciate (a) getting paid; (b) being relied upon; (c) enjoying my job, and; (d) getting put on the path to becoming a real attorney. There's a lot to learn, but nowhere to go but up.

School is as school goes, as I think most people can relate to. I think law school is unique in that, as a third year student, it is mostly pointless. Truly, I could take the bar in February and be ready to practice. There's not much more to learn anymore, but things to do. However pissed one can get at Hamline and its shitty reputation though, I do have to be happy for my legal friends, and the general quality of my education. I feel fortunate that I'm successful academically, and feel fortunate that I enjoy what I do.

Actually, come to think of it, I shouldn't hate on law school so much. Without law school, I wouldn't be jetting to Hong Kong in April for the Vis international commercial arbitration competition. I must say, I enjoy the whole concept of a free trip to Hong Kong, so forthwith, I think I'll try to put myself in situations that feature such a perk. This whole experience has been shocking to the conscience in terms of workload and commitment, but it has been rewarding to an immeasurable degree. Even a calendar week featuring 45 hours spent in tiny library rooms can't deter my general sense that this is fun, exciting stuff. It has opened doors for me to meet with some very important people, and I'm sure that will continue to occur. Truly though, I think the best part is the friends that have come out of it; and if not friends, then colleagues. Generally, when you're going to spend 45 hours with 3 other people, it's good to get along, and I think our team has exceeded that bottom-line.

Conclusion

A lot of things have happened, and there is much to be thankful on, and much to improve upon. I suppose my boyish concern for 2010 as the Future hasn't quite come to fruition, but maybe it's on its way. Perhaps its my nature, perhaps I'm not as progressive as I thought, but as the years extend onwards, the valuable things in my life tend to get more simplistic. Often times more expensive, but simple in principle. I want to do well at the things I do, enjoy the things I enjoy, and do all those things with family, friendships and relationships that are meaningful and provocative. At times, I wish it was easier to get all those things, but that would be unrealistic.

The Land of the Ice and Snow

Well, at least my building is still standing...

Poor Metrodome. Place just can't catch a break.

Snowed In

Rumor has it, Minnesota is known for being a forbidding place, replete with arctic wind, yetis, and good Lutherans making meatballs whilst wearing parkas. In Fact, I rode a penguin to work this morning.

And with good reason, because the heavens have opened themselves tonight, and spilt upon this land quite the wintry blanket. I, my penguin, and my Volkswagen had a fantastic time during rush hour getting from the mall back down across the river to the confines of suburbia this afternoon. Not wanting to mess with the entire population, who has seemingly forgotten what it means to drive in snow, I've spent my night in the company of Arthur Guinness and a snoring dog, lazily listening to Beatles albums and whatever else comes to my mind. Now, it's Vince Guaraldi.

Quite literally, there's a blizzard out. I know this, because prior to snoring, the aforementioned dog was quite adamant about having his daily Fun Activity. Of course, before I knew it, since I'm really just the dog's puppet (a leash is a kind of string of sorts...), I was outside in the bluster, bounding great leaps over the wake of the snowplow, skittering across hidden ice, trying to decipher just what the hell is so interesting about a tree, etc. And an appropriate experience it was, not only for the frosty communion with Nature, but also as a metaphorical event. Alas, it is that time of the year again, every law student's bane. Yes, tis' finals.

Of course, I probably shouldn't complain. I feel as if I've cut the Gordian knot that is the law school exam: I fear it no longer. They're now more now an exercise... just not the fun kind of exercise, like speed skating or jai alai, or some such frivolity. Rather, finals are akin to the inverse dumbell curl up, or whatever that abominable event was that always left me on the brink of throwing up. They're a test of endurance, more than anything. Not much to endure though, when you have but two two-hour, open book exams... Like I said, I have little to complain about.

My minor brush with doom for the week came yesterday, as my trusty laptop, which hasn't heretofore failed me, finally exacted its vengeance for all these pointless blog posts. Either that, or it was as angry as I was about the United States losing the 2022 World Cup bid (Qatar?! Seriously?!). But anyways, it decided to suck, and after many an hour spent in mall Apple stores, it is now well again... although with none of my files on it. Luckily, I had the foresight to back everything up on Monday, so in 24 hours, hopefully all be right again in the world. I can once again download Bill Bryson podcasts with reckless abandon. Or more accurately, keep writing about international commercial arbitration.

However, as a consequence of my computer's meltdown, I was probably unplugged (at least in the tangible keyboard sense), for the longest period in quite a while last night, which actually, was a shocking realization. As someone who likes to pride himself on his lack of digital obsession, it was a sobering wake up call, a necessary moment of self-awareness. I had been speaking with a Hamline alum at a networking event last night, and he specialized in digital forensics - he could basically get any information you can imagine from a smartphone. And he said something to me, he said that "people keep their lives in their pocket, in these devices." And I chuckled, and gladhanded, and took another sip of my beer - but that phrase kept me thinking as I sat without the use of my computer. It made me realize how I fidgeted with my phone, treating it like some sort of lifeline to the rest of humanity. My protestations to the contrary, the lawyer was right. I do keep my life in my pocket.

Whether that's good or bad, is for another post, another set of thoughts. It makes me want to be increasingly vigilant though. It seems to me, that even in an age where there are any number of digital distractions, and social media, there are an awful lot of opportunities to be incredibly lonely. I was amused the other day when I learned that there is apparently upwards of a $1 billion dollar industry for online gifts. Not like, I buy you a blender on Amazon and ship it to you - no, it's like I buy you a digital blender for your digital self on facebook, or some shit like that. Absolutely incredible.

In any event, it's still snowing, and the dog is still snoring. The jazz is still on, and the plastic deciduous tree has its Christmas lights on. For so much insanity, at least some things are right.

Thanksgiving 2011

Consistent with my practice, for this Thanksgiving, in no particular order, a list of sorts.

1. Family
2. Friends
3. Homebrewing (and being successful at it!)
4. Making my own pumpkin pie
5. Summit Winter Ale
6. Khaki pants
7. Khaki shorts
8. Summer afternoons at Target Field
9. Having a job
10. Having a job that I like
11. The colour blue
12. The number 12
13. Twins baseball - even if you can't beat the Yankees
14. The dog
15. Red wine
16. England
17. Getting through all my podcasts on my way to Glencoe
18. Diesel cars
19. Baja tacos
20. Public Art
21. Walking the dog
22. My new glasses
23. Nightcaps with a glass of scotch
24. Being honest
25. Loyalty
26. Seeing old friends
27. Jim Thome's walkoff home run against the White Sox on August 17, 2010
28. Coffee
29. International Commercial Arbitration
30. My blue pullover thing that I'm wearing in every single photo
31. The Beatles
32. Cheez-Its
33. Jazz
34. This American Life
35. Argyle socks
36. Carl Pavano's mustache
37. Daily flossing
38. Walking to my car after school on a fall day
39. Irish car bombs at La Rana - hell, everything at La Rana
40. Responding to text messages in French

The News

Folks, in honor of my very favourite local news anchor, Don Shelby, who signed off tonight after 32 years as anchor at WCCO TV here in Minnepolis.



People may know my penchant for loyalty, and I'm happy to say that in my entire life, I think I've watched a non-WCCO newscast less than five times. Why is that? Well, first off, it's important to be loyal. And second, I liked Don Shelby. Don was loyal, he was a good newsman, and he dressed snappily. Plus, he's a Twins fan. What's not to like?

It's important to recognize that in the minutia of life, in the mundane things you experience day after day, you end up taking some things for granted. You don't think about the little things, even those impersonal things, that make life intensely personal, and intensely valuable.

So, in that vein, and in the spirit of recognizing someone who's done a lot for our community, thanks Don. For you, I'd put a gopher in my pants any day.

Winning

Well folks, in my super-secret government job, I had my first legal win today. A brief that I wrote, nay, crafted in its entirety, prevailed over the Defendant in court. Granted, it was pretty much a slam dunk argument, but that's besides the point.

The attorney I was working with was going to let me go on the record and give the oral argument in support of the State's motion, if the judge wanted it. However, since my legal arguments were so brilliant, that turned out to be unnecessary. But, just to be prepared, yesterday I went out and purchased a powerful red tie, in order to intimidate and subdue my adversary. Obviously, it worked.

Plus, the judge's law clerk came up to me and told me how well written she thought the State's brief was. So, score one for the evil government on that one, and I'm set up quite nicely to get taken down a few notches next time around.

You know, I like to think that I'm not a competitive person. I like to think that my super-chill demeanor usually extends to being above the pettiness of silly disputes...

But, that would be a lie. I can't tell you how pissed off I got playing Risk on family game night in college. I was playing with friends, but I genuinely think I was ready to turn to physical violence. Especially after some backstabbing "roommate" broke our alliance and invaded North America. Don't think I don't remember that.

In any event, my office-mate/coworker and I were having this discussion today, what we thought made a good trial attorney. We both agreed that being a super-competitive, nasty, killer bitch/asshole was not a good strategy. So, in effect, we both agreed you didn't have to be a TV lawyer to be effective.

But, at work and in my upcoming fake litigation practice trial, it's apparent that having a competitive streak is a good thing. In the fake case I have for my fake trial, I'm representing the plaintiff in a Title VII sex discrimination suit. And in all reality, the likelihood of us winning is very, very slim. It's a flawed case, and not enough good facts to prove the things we need to prove. But I'm definitely convincing myself that I can overcome that and win this case, as slim as that may be.

We had a fake motion hearing on Monday, and I made motions to admit certain evidence against the Defendant at trial. And, there is really no way this evidence would ever come in. But I convinced myself I could get it in, and I argued as well as I could to do so. When it inevitably was denied, I left the law school feeling quite distressed. Well, that's a misnomer. I was pretty pissed off.

I don't think I have any anger management issues, but if nothing else, the past few years have taught me that as much as I don't like to admit it, losing sucks. I'd rather not lose. Don't like losing when it comes to law school, don't like losing when it comes to relationships, don't like losing when it comes to Risk.

And especially, above nearly everything else, I don't like losing to the Yankees.

Sucky News o' The Day

As a lover of public transit, and trains especially, this is disheartening.

Oh Republicans. You wanted small government, you got it. Now don't bitch when you don't get what you want.

I can understand the criticism of rail, I really can. I can understand why folks would be frustrated at money going to rail, rather than to highway infrastructure or the like. Hell, you use the roads, I use the roads, we all use the roads.

I disagree with that prioritization though. It seems to me, as someone who has had the opportunity to live in environments with plentiful mass transit options and rail connections, that we should encourage the development of mass transit and rail here in Minnesota. It's more environmentally friendly, more efficient, helps reduce congestion, and maybe best of all, you don't need to scrape off the windshield of a train after it snows.

Bottom line, if all we ever do is throw our tax dollars at roads and road infrastructure, we'll never develop a more sustainable mass transit infrastructure. Especially in the Twin Cities, I think that should be a major priority.

Destination: Hong Kong. Object: World Domination

Come the end of April, this is where you can find me. World arbitrators - you are hereby put on notice.

Team Hamline/Viper/Awesome, away!

Framing Debate, or My Progressive Crisis

As a good Minnesota progressive, I'm finding the results of this year's midterm elections to be rather disappointing. Disappointing, but not entirely unsurprising. That's just part of the game for Democrats.

I think the part that bothers me the most, is the Democratic Party's unwillingness to frame issues in any way other than that of their Republican opponents. For example, let's take the most incendiary topic, maybe one of the linchpins of "tea party" rage: the health care reform bill. Now, as I sit here as a reasonable adult, I saw a lot of good things. It let folks stay on their parent's insurance until age 26 (that helps me). It creates markets whereby folks can go online and compare quotes from different (private) insurance options. It prevents insurance companies from denying coverage based on preexisting conditions, and eliminates caps on coverage.

But you don't hear about those things. You hear about how Democrats nationalized our health care. You hear about death panels, and evil bureaucrats. You hear about how the government can't force its citizens into doing things.

Well of course, that's bullshit. Nothing got nationalized. The Federal government is already the nation's largest health care provider. There's no public option, there's no universal-payor system, there's nothing like that. The government can't force me to do things I don't want to do? I don't want to join the military, but they can force me to do that. Of course the government can force us to do things - it's called the Commerce Clause.

You do have to hand it to conservatives; they have an uncanny knack for spin. It's incredible that a party that drove the country into the ground starting in 2000 can now, after two years of being out of effective power, claim that they can solve our problems (which they helped create) by the same tactics that didn't work previously. Because let's not kid ourselves, there are no "new ideas." The current Republican party apparently prides itself on its refusal to compromise on anything, and has pretty well played the part the past few years. I think that's shameful, be it coming from liberal or conservative.

I could write all night, but I won't, because I have homework to do. I think progressives in this country, especially those in public office, need to grow a pair and start setting the record straight. This notion that Obama and his liberal machine is destroying America; why, that's ridiculous. Why are we feeling ashamed of reforming health care, or regulating securities transactions, or spending money that the private sector doesn't?

It goes back to framing the conversation. It's hard to frame when you constantly think you need to be on the defensive. I suppose everything is cyclical, but it's difficult to be optimistic when you can't seem to defeat Michele Bachmann...

The Weather

Supposedly, Minnesotans are incredibly keen on talking about the weather. And you know, I have to admit, this is something I've never really caught on to. I always thought it was really prosaic to point out something so obvious - "boy, sure is chilly out today." Well, of course it's chilly out - we're in Minnesota, for God's sake. People here legitimately think a good time is to fish through holes in a frozen lake. A couple years ago, there was an ice castle in St. Paul. For all the rest of the country knows, we ride penguins and reindeers instead of driving cars.

So right, I really don't get the fascination with talking about the weather. It's fairly obvious. Although then again, it's probably a bit less inflammatory social topic then me speaking extemporaneously on why I think Tom Emmer is a nutjob who will run the state into the ground.

But anyways, point being, all of a sudden, it got real frickin' cold up here. And truly, it was a real sudden change of pace. For the longest time, we had this weird Indian summer thing going on. Frankly, I'm glad it got a bit cooler, but I would have preferred a more gradual transition. As I've discussed with numerous folks, I'm fairly certain I look best in fall clothes. Not quite so awkward.

One thing I really enjoy about fall, and cool weather, is the attendant changes in what we'll call "life philosophies." And by that, I mean those subjective pleasantries that seem to crop up at this time of year. Here, in no particular order, are some of the greatest beneficiaries of fall.

1 - Pumpkin - why the hell can't this be in everything, all the time? Oh right, cause it's a fall food. Speaking of pumpkin though, I've found a new appreciation for pumpkin ale.

2 - Coffee in mid-afternoon - wait a second, this is normal anyways.

3 - Oktoberfest beers - I'm enjoying a Lake Superior Oktoberfest as I type. I do have a fondness for Summit, but Sam Adams (!) makes a mean one too, if we're talking about the Colonies.

4 - The Blues - I'm listening to a just purchased Jimmy Smith album right now. . . life-changing

5 - Sigur Rós - I think this goes back to Notts, but fall always reminds me of Sigur Rós. I think I'll blame that on Brando.

6 - Gourds - what a hilarious word

7 - The Walk From My Car to the Law School - I usually park about two and a half blocks away from Hamline, and have to walk to school from my car. The best days are those cool, crisp fall days when the leaves are changing. It's insouciant.

8 - The World Series - something just doesn't feel quite so satisfying though. Oh, that's right...

9 - Nostalgia - I don't know, fall just seems like a nostalgic time of year. Oddly enough, I think it's a good time for new beginnings, and other good things. Bouquets of newly sharpened pencils, and the like.

Go outside.

New Blog

No, no, don't worry folks, this blog isn't going away. Far from it, actually.

Some friends and I have recently started a new hobby: homebrewing beer. So yes, I spent a good chunk of my Sunday afternoon starting at a boiling pot of wort, carefully adding a nylon sock of grain and hops to the foamy cauldron. As a way to document this process, review our beers, and otherwise just have a convenient forum to place beer and brewing related musings, we've set up a NEW BLOG. Said NEW BLOG can be easily accessed via the links to your right, as you read this post.

If not, just hop on over to www.mnbrewblog.com, and let your hop fantasies run wild.

So yes, please, I invite you to take a look. Mind you, I cannot take credit for all of the content, as it is a collaborative effort. However, some dumbass posted a long rambling, melodrama to start the whole operation off, so I don't know who that could be.

Album of the Week: Version

Hello folks, back with the Internet's Greatest Semi-Regular Feature... yes, the Album of the Week. This week's album is "Version," by English producer/DJ/guitarist/just plain cool dude Mark Ronson. And seriously, I'm not just saying that because he's English.

One thing you need to know about this album, is that at a very prosaic level, none of it is original. Mark Ronson didn't actually write any of this stuff - it's mostly all covers of British indie tunes. However, given that caveat, you should know that on a less-prosaic level, this album is quite original. I've been thinking hard tonight of an apt metaphor for this work of art, and I think it's most appropriate to compare it to a different work of art.

How many of you are Tarantino fans? Should you be a Tarantino fan, you will also be a Mark Ronson fan. That is because, Ronson is perhaps the musical Tarantino of this age. I say this because nearly every track on this album has a pulpy, funky, infections reimagination to it that is equal parts surf rock, Ray Charles soul, and Big-Afro funk. Now to be fair, I don't mean that this simply would be music that would go into a Tarantino movie - that would diminish the art. No folks, this is music reimagined in a similar way, but not a copy by any means.

Now, from what Wikipedia tells me, Mark Ronson is a pretty funky guy. I know this because he's part of the production team behind Amy Winehouse's bluesy, funky "Back to Black" album (as an aside, Winehouse's feature on "Valerie" is undoubtedly one of the album standouts). What I love about this album is how seamless the funk is integrated into these very distinct songs. Partly, I guess this is attributable to the inclusion of the Dap-Kings as session musicians on nearly all the tracks. And make no mistake, the horns here are absolutely fantastic - just the perfect amount of pop, especially in the trumpet. Seriously, it is just an incredibly infectious collection of music, made even better by all the collaborations.

Of course, some of the tracks fall a bit flat, as one may expect from a mere mortal (The Beatles are obviously excluded from the "mere mortal" category). The cover of Britney Spears' "Toxic" doesn't quite do it for me, nor does "Pretty Green." But the Lily Allen cover of the Kaiser Chiefs' "Oh My God" is absolutely stunning, not least because of Allen's mind-bogglingly sultry, sexy vocals, in that way only a proper English girl can do. As aforementioned, Amy Winehouse does a tour de force rendition of "Valerie."



Maybe most confusingly, there is quite the remake of Radiohead's "Just." Yes, that Radiohead, with funky horns and Jackson 5-esque guitar strumming. Objectively, your rational brain would probably put those three things together (Radiohead, funky horns, Jackson Five), and think to yourself "hmm, not a good idea." Rational brain, yet another reason why you are overrated.

Anyways, I had heard rumors that this album was a bit overrated, but I can say after giving it a good two or so days of near constant airplay, I really enjoy it. Quite good, and you'll especially enjoy it with a well placed grain of salt, and maybe a light up dance floor to bust a groove on. Plus, Mark Ronson is still obscure enough, that you can say "Oh yes, I love this new English producer/dj/guitarist/pretty cool dude - you haven't heard of him," and still sound like the pretentious, know-it-all white person you fancy yourself.

I know I've done it at least twice now.

Not Blogging

Folks, I started a new job today. A new legal job. That's right, for the first time ever, I'm being effectively paid to do the sorts of things that people in law school expect to be effectively paid for. It was an illuminating experience. Definitely need to stake a claim on my shared desk with a Michael Cuddyer bobblehead.

Unfortunately, literally per the terms of my employment, I'm prohibited from doing any "blogging" about my job. I wish I could say it's because I'm a BFD, but I think it's moreso just the nature of public employment. Which is a shame, because I foresee my particular division as being incredibly ripe for blogging adventure. But, nary a word shall you see. . . I don't want to get fired.

Anyways, yeah, it should be a good time.

Speaking of the opposite of good times... oh Twins. I read somewhere that you really have to man up in order to be a baseball fan, because there are 162+ opportunities for utter devastation and heartbreak. Given the travesty that unfolded before my eyes the past weekend, I'm pretty sure I subscribe to that.

Oh yeah, and should anyone have any procedural questions about an arbitral tribunal's authority to issue ex parte interim relief, feel free to shoot me an email.

Open Letter

Dear Twins,

Now, I can hardly be considered a fair-weather fan, and am naturally optimistic by nature.

But this inability to beat the Yankees, is getting pretty tiresome.

I've spent a good chunk of my disposable income at your ballpark. I've worn my victory socks, drank my Grain Belt, and sat in even-numbered seats all season long. Hell, last night, I even sat in Seat 12.

As a result of these and innumerable other sacrifices, I don't think I ask so much. Just win three effing games. I'd be much happier if you'd oblige.

Very truly yours,




The Author

L'Octobre

I'm quite excited. Tomorrow night, for the first time since 2002, I'm going to go watch the Twins in playoff baseball. Sure, I'd be lying if I didn't say there was some element of dread to it; after all, we are playing the Yankees, who have had our number for quite some time. But that's the beauty of this game - hope always springs eternal.

After all, after you get knocked down or out so many times, your luck is bound to turn around, right? We've all had bad things happen to us, and sometimes, it feels like we'll never recover. But eventually, we do. I have the same hopes for the local nine tomorrow night. I'll expect mediocrity, but I'm going to dream for greatness.

In any event, it's going to be a great night in a gorgeous ballpark.

My victory socks are ready to go, I have plenty of warm weather Twins gear, my hat bill is curved just right, and homer hanky is at the ready. So tomorrow night, I'll sit down with a hot dog along the third-base line, raise a Summit to Joe Mauer, Michael Cuddyer, and the rest of the gang, and hope for a charmed Minnesota fall.

Win Twins!


P.S. Craig Finn of the Hold Steady, and noted Twins fan, penned this recent song to help our boys to the World Series. For a baseball song, it is quite fantastic.

Voyages

Hello folks. It's always amazing to me, even in this Modern Age, that one can arise in Illinois, and by the end of the day, be relaxing in Minnesota. 500+ hours, gone in the (relative) blink of an eye. Had I been in London, that same amount of distance would have taken me to either Edinburgh or Glasgow, with miles to spare. I think there's a lot of perspective to be gained in voyages like this; I think there's a sense of immensity that we too often forget with our airplanes and future phones.

Because I'm too often accused of being cryptic, I spent last weekend on an adventure of semi-epic proportions. Twin Cities to Iowa City to beautiful (but not quite Twin Cities beautiful) Champaign-Urbana and back again. It was quite a long drive, but I firmly believe that good times and good friends are worth 1100 miles. Plus, I got to catch up on my "This American Life" podcasts. Fantastic.

I can't say I'm too often thrilled to spend 9 hours in a car on any given day, but as I alluded to earlier this summer, there's something cathartic about the open road. Especially when you have a lot of thinking to do. Not that I necessarily did, but endless fields and small towns are conducive to thinking, whether or not that's your intent. Of course, it was much nicer on the leg from Iowa City to Champaign, when I had the pleasure of good company and good conversation. Among the topics: the crisis of modern American masculinity, having work be a part of your person rather than your entire person, many incredibly interesting quips about medicine which I did not understand, and much, much more!

In any event, the countless hours of diesel-fueled fun culminated in yet another Luther College manboy get-together, which I daresay, is the best kind of get-together. The weekend had a severe lack of groan-inducing trombone quartets posted on youtube, but I suppose that was rendered moot by the dual orchestral concerts that we had the pleasure of hearing, featuring Cedar Falls' finest on the bass trombone. In any event, there was exquisite food, expensive beer, morning coffee on a porch, and trophies to commemorate the weekend. Oh yes, and we also channeled our inner viking warrior spirit by drinking mead. Nothing better.

You know, I always used to hate that "manboy" moniker. It was coined via a somewhat legendary short story, the product of a person who had a rather unique, intimate view into our collective friendship. It always seemed so juvenile to me, when, considering some of our college antics, it was probably quite appropriate. At that time, I thought maybe it was a backhanded insult, since I fancied myself a sophisticate. Now, I don't think I mind it so much. Maybe it's my increasing self awareness, but when there are four grown men singing "Mr. Blue Sky" at the top of their lungs at 1 in the morning, "manboy" seems an apt descriptor.

I don't think that's bad either, because I think it's clear from our conversations that most of the time, the four of us work, work, and then work some more, trying to be something or another. It's easy to work at being a lawyer, or a doctor, or a musician, or a physicist. It's not quite as easy to work on being a person of substance, a person who has human connections. If that involves ELO singalongs and nighttime sprinting, so be it. Certainly better than the alternative.

Of course, I was rudely reminded today, as I stumbled through 25 pages of how a mortgagee perfects their assignment of rents, that such revelries are unfortunately, temporary. I used the somewhat misleading metaphor of a caravan going through the desert, stopping at an oasis, and then heading back out into the sand. Like I said, this is misleading, and maybe inappropriate - I don't necessarily think life is akin to a desert. However, with the stresses of school, job searches, women, friends, the general challenges of life; it's pretty important to just stop for a few days, and drink some water. Or, as the case may be, some overpriced beer.

Communication, or Why This Is Hard To Do

Hello Media Consumers, welcome to another exceedingly interesting blog post. It will become the highlight of your day, I'm sure.

What have I been up to, you might ask? My much-hyped (mostly by me - see post before last) moot court competition doesn't start until October, so I've seemingly had quite a bit of time on my hands recently. I've applied for many a job, crafted many an ingratiating cold email to unsuspecting law firms, feasted upon numerous delicious organic cheese items appearing in my fridge, and of course, spent a considerable amount of time pondering how many games it will take the Twins to win the World Series

As a related aside, I've been quite agog at Mr. Jim Thome's recent spat of Herculean home runs. If I can't hit a baseball 700 feet when I'm 40, here's to hoping I can do something else with similar aplomb.

But of course, consistent with my duties, I've spent a few hours here and there being an Associate Editor on the eminent Hamline Law Review. This consists of me reading rough drafts of budding law review articles, making more than a few marks with a colored pen, and basically trying to impart nuggets of literary/legal wisdom on other future lawyers. And as future lawyers are wont to do, we're always right.

Anyways, the experience has reminded me of, for how fundamental it is, effective communication is quite a difficult task to master. You know, I tend to fancy myself a competent writer, and I suppose it's frustrating when others weren't blessed with that capacity. It's not an offense, it's not anything, but it does make you realize that the distillation of ideas to paper, or ideas to a computer, as it were, is a difficult thing. People are verbose and labyrinthine in their reasoning, when the same result could be exposed by fewer words and a Hemingway touch. These are the growing pains of academia though, and I suppose that's why there are folks like me to say, "I just don't understand this."

Of course, thus the title of this blog - only fools think they understand everything. I tend to find this out in more dramatic ways than most, but I suppose that's not necessarily a bad thing. After all, life is dramatic. I believe my friend Bill stated this best when he said, "All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players . . . ." I think maybe it's just frustrating, or difficult to comprehend when you are acting in say, a comedy, and another person is doing their best tragedy. Or maybe a mystery combined with a musical. Whatever, you get the point.

Moral of the blog, it's difficult for anyone to write a law review article, it's difficult to write anything. It's difficult to convey what you want to say to other people without sounding insensitive, condescending, or foolish. It's hard to tell folks how you feel. Even worse, it's hard to apologize, especially if you don't think you need to, or understand what is going on. In the end, it's amazing the world continues on in a functional manner, what with all the yelling and mucking about.

Maybe this is yet another reason why baseball is among the most perfect of things. After all, communication is easy. To win a game, you don't need to argue the finer points of the CISG, you don't need to defend yourself against hostile questions or verbal spars. All one must do, is launch a small white sphere into orbit, a majestic arc that by its very nature, instantly tells all that needs to be known.



Enough blather. The Twins, symbolic of all that is righteous in the world, are victorious again. I've had my daily quota of coffee, and there's no school until 4 tomorrow. It is yet another gorgeous Minnesota day; and of course, a gorgeous day in Minnesota is the most gorgeous of all. My bike tires are full of air, the gleaming towers of Minneapolis are nearby, and sky-blue describes not only the waters, but the sky too.

Away!

Talking Dinosaurs + Twins Baseball = Good

State Fair

Kompetenz-Kompetenz

Folks, I'm not usually one for self-promotion. But let's not classify this as self-promotion; instead, I suppose it's more like sharing news. But barring financial catastrophe, I'm going to be headed to either Hong Kong or Vienna next April, to help represent Hamline Law at the Willem C. Vis International Commercial Arbitration moot court competition!

I attribute my successful audition/resume/cover letter almost solely to my yellow and blue striped arbitration tie, clearly visible in the above photo. So, thank you tie.

In all reality, this will probably make life a living hell for a good chunk of the school year, as it will take up an absurd amount of time and effort. However, I think it has been plenty established that law students are by definition, sado-masochists, so I suppose that helps make sense of it.

In any event, ICA, watch out. You are about to be owned.

Music Video of the Week: Mark Ronson and the Business Intl.

I don't quite know what the hell is going on here. I especially don't understand the MC Hammer hybrid dress/parachute pants. But I like it.

Album of the Week: It's Never Been Like That

To commemorate my failure to see Phoenix live in Minneapolis last Thursday, this week's album is the third studio release from everyone's favourite English-language French electronica-rock band. Yes folks, for those of you who may remember my glowing review of "Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix," here is yet another one. Actually, I daresay this is the first band to have the honor of landing twice on the Album of the Week. So, I think you'll agree that congratulations are in order!

My starting point and frame of reference for listening to this album was the fabulous album previously referenced, that being "Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix." That album was heavy on electronica and dance beats, combined with some unique use of percussion and guitar. Bottom line, it's a very unique sound, one that is very distinguishable from many other current groups. In contrast, "It's Never Been Like That" features much more prominent guitar work, although there is still some dance/electronica elements. The dance vibe is especially evident in "Consolation Prize," which is one of my favourite tracks on this disc.

Like I said though, I hear a lot more non-distorted guitar on this disc, and it comes off in a very crisp, appealing way. "One Time Too Many" is a good example of this sound, with the guitar coming off in a very crisp way. Almost completely opposite is the driving accompaniment in "Courtesy Laughs," where you almost feel hit on the head with heavy, accented downbeats. Although this relatively ham-handedness isn't quite what I expected from Phoenix, it really works on this particularly song, especially when combined with Thomas Mars' focused vocals.

From a broader point of view, one thing that Phoenix always seems to do quite well is to maintain a certain level of energy throughout not only their songs, but their entire albums. I mean, "Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix" practically has you on edge the entire time, and I think it's really hard to listen to it sitting still. "It's Never Been Like That" has that same sensibility, but in a different, more straightforward way. That's not to say that this is a boring album; in fact, that's far from the truth. But in listening to this in comparison with "Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix," you definitely get the sense that this is a band on the cusp of revelation, like they're but a few steps away from greatness. I'd be very interested in getting some earlier Phoenix stuff, just to get a better sense of their sonic development.

Another thing I appreciate about this album is the inclusion of an all-instrumental number, "North." Too often I think, bands are consumed by the temptation of lyrics. After all, they have a vocalist to sing, and popular tastes demand it. So I really respect the inclusion of an instrumental number, although I must say, it lacks the sweeping quality of "Love Like a Sunset."

As you may guess, I love this band. I love "Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix," and have literally been listening to it at least once a week since February. I still don't get tired of it. I'm always going to judge any music by Phoenix against that album, so I'm definitely skewed in terms of what I expect from them. This album was a pleasant surprise, although I'd lie if I said I was instantly taken with it. Like I said, I think it's an excellent portrait of a band on the brink of truly finding themselves from an artistic standpoint. It could stand alone on that, as a historical relic. However, I think it also stands by itself as great music.

Verdict? Highly recommended.

Baseball

Strange things happen in baseball. The Twins win when an otherwise inocuous pop fly ends up hitting a catwalk and careening back into fair territory. There's a mysterious thing called the infield fly rule that has its own law review article. And then there's this...

Humidity... and stuff

Hi folks, hope everyone is somehow enduring this ridiculous humidity. I mean, seriously, this is quite uncool, both literally and figuratively.


(the opposite of uncool - damn we look good)

Humidity aside, had a great weekend at the long anticipated 2010 Nottingham reunion. Although we never got the chance to have all nine of us in one room together, as a fellow Notter observed, it was "surreal" to be all back together again. Surreal in a good way, I think. I may have expressed this to some folks, but it was probably obvious anyways - it was intense to see how almost instantly, the nine of us, who are so different in so many ways, suddenly became the Nine again. It brought back a lot of memories, let's put it that way. At one point, I visualized all of us standing around the flat kitchen, eating custard creams, talking about how our days went, maybe having some wine or beer. Needless to say, although so many things were experienced that year, I think it's fair to say it was moments like that that stand out most potently.

I'm just saying, I was always ready to get the tattoo. Next summer? Takers?

Anyways, riffing on that last point, I always find it interesting how people, who may have gone years without communication, can always coalesce again, if they have some sort of foundation. I suppose I'm particularly subject to this, because I have either the curse or the blessing of being incredibly loyal. I think it's fair to say though, that the 2006-07 Notters had a very unique bond. If not for the fact that we were stuck together, I'm sure I would never have befriended some of these folks. I may not have even wanted to. But even given our intense diversity of personalities, and maybe even given an occasional awkward silence or lack of conversation, I'd be hard pressed to imagine folks I'm closer to. That's pretty cool. Cheers to that.



On a sidenote, whoever came up with the idea of drinking on a rooftop, is an absolute genius. I wish I could do everything on a rooftop. It would make life so much more interesting. I mean, can you imagine if we had court on a rooftop? That would be awesome.

Unless it's this humid.

Decorah

Hi folks. This past weekend, I took a trip down to Decorah for the annual Nordic Fest celebration/ad-hoc Luther get-together. As usual, it was a great time.

Someone I know made an interesting comment to me, one that has had me pondering. Referring to Decorah, this person said being there made them breathe easier, and feel freer.

Now, keep in mind, we're all Luther grads, so we all have a certain connection to the place that goes beyond just a visitor passing through. But I think this also ties in somewhat with my previous post, the one about transitions and journeys. For a Luther grad, or at least Luther grads like myself and my circle, going to Decorah is almost more of a spiritual event than your typical long weekend away. It certainly contains ritualistic elements. After all, certain things must be done. We must play frisbee golf. We must play trombone. We must stop by the co-op. A peanut butter burger must be consumed at T-Bock's.

And most importantly, above all else, we must spend an evening at La Rana, our Thursday night meeting place of countless pints and slices of crusty French bread. The place has a sort of primal draw, like whales traveling halfway across the ocean to a singular breeding ground. Except of course, we're not whales. We're folks in search of a more innocent past.

Maybe that's a little too dramatic. But that's my explanation of why Decorah retains this simple freedom and this clear air. Forever, it remains a place where we came of age, where we found out who we are, and what we valued. We discovered friends that are more akin to family. For some, we found love. For some, we found meaningful pursuits. But I think everyone found change, the meaningful sort of change.

Objectively, it's definitely a unique town. But it will always remain a special town for me, and always a welcome vacation. I wouldn't normally consider going on a trip to a fish hatchery or a biodiversity farm up here in the Cities, but it seems like a perfectly natural way to spend an afternoon in Iowa.

In any event, it was good to get out of town and see friends. It was good to breathe the country air. And of course, above all, it was good to have my Guinness on Saturday night...

Journeys

Hello folks. Sorry about the sporadic blogging as of late (i.e. the entire summer). I seem to have contracted a case of writer's block, or blogger's block, as it were. That, and I guess I've been busy. The exhausting business of justice in rural Minnesota...

That word: justice. It's like, the lawyer's verbal crack. We just love saying it.

Anyways, I've been thinking a lot about journeys. People in transition. One thing about driving to Glencoe, Minnesota three days a week is that you have plenty of time in the car. By my estimate, it's about 360 miles per week. Some portion of that is spent on I-494, which is actually the country's worst freeway. Now that I think of it, it might be the absolute worst thing I can think of. I despise it passionately. But, these are the times that try men's souls, I suppose.

Back to my point - I have a lot of time in the car. Oddly enough, I kind of enjoy it, because it gives me good opportunities to listen to old podcasts I downloaded but never had a chance to listen to. So, I'm catching up on "This American Life," and I've gotten into this new one by NPR called "Intelligence Squared," where a panel of experts debate certain topics (thanks Kris for that one). Good stuff. But sometimes, I just let the music play, and I can just drive through the countryside and think.

A lot of things are in transition right now, I think. Personally, after 6 years of post-secondary education, I'm finally faced with the prospect of finding a Real Job, sooner rather than later. It's time to be an adult, to be a professional. Which is a good thing, but I suppose it's also a challenge. Kind of feels like being in Neverland, and at long last, being forced to grow up. That's an exaggeration of course, I've had to grow up a long time ago. But bottom line, it's a transition. And of course, how does any self-respecting American male deal with that transition? Buy some new suits.

Check.

Other folks and entities I know are also in transition. A church choir I've been involved with for a long time recently finished its final tour this summer, so it's in transition. I have friends who are coming into and going out of significant relationships; they're in transition. Transition is hard, I think, but it's a good thing. Sometimes, I think it's more difficult for those of us who are watching the changes, because we tend to be selfish, and we want other people or things to conform to our wishes. This kind of goes back to a perpetual issue with ourselves, I think. Not everyone is the same, and we react to things differently, and it's really hard to recognize that.

Bottom line, it's a good thing, and it's a bad thing, and it's a necessary thing, all at the same time. I've learned that it's really hard to let go of people you care about, especially when you don't want to. It's hard to figure out where you're going. But it's probably a good thing, in the end, to be in transition, because this is where you learn who you are. I remember landing in London in 2006, to be there for nine months, and being absolutely scared shitless. I left nine months later with a completely different sense of self, a better one, I think. Not so bad after all.

As an aside, and speaking of being abroad, I think I'm going to go on a trip next summer after I take the bar, to celebrate being done with law school. I don't know where I'll go yet, but it's going to be adventurous. I'm a European minded sort, so it will probably be there. Ideas?

In the meantime though, I guess I'll just keep driving to Glencoe. I have more podcasts to listen to.

Absolutely Amazing

Pumping iron with bears... that would make me thirsty too.

Niagara Falls

World Cup Thoughts

Folks, I must admit, I don't really know a lot about soccer. From a technical standpoint, I'm quite clueless - can never figure out why sometimes there's a free kick and sometimes there's a corner kick. Who cares though, I don't think my soccer idiocy takes away from the exhilaration of watching it on TV. Or better yet, live.

Point being, I love watching the World Cup. It is just fantastic, especially when our team is actually putting on something of a show. The United States/Slovenia match today was quite fantastic (although I'm still seething over that bogus call that would have given us the game). The pagaentry of the whole thing is just something to behold, especially when you think of how the entire world is watching too. Great times.

Actually, I think my favourite moment of the whole ordeal occurs before the match even begins. That moment is when the teams are lined up, and they play the two national anthems. The look on the players' faces, well, I think it's quite a sight.

Traffic

Folks, I daresay there are few things I hate more in life than traffic. Paying for parking is one of them, and maybe the word "pink" is another. But I hate traffic with an unbridled passion. I think it's because, like many unpleasant things in life, traffic is utterly uncontrollable. And of course, as fate would have it, I run headlong into rush hour on I-494 coming back from my judicial clerkship in Glencoe. Fantastic.

I've had a weird, bizarre, contemplative couple of weeks here. I don't quite feel like going into details, but all of those adjectives and more are apt descriptors. It's really not worth complaining about, but it all really comes back to traffic. You never like things that you cannot control. Sure, you can try to manouever around the traffic; you can foolishly try to bypass the gridlock by taking Pioneer Trail through Eden Prairie (note to self - don't think that works). But in general, sometimes you just kinda have to accept the stop and go, and hope that eventually, you're going to get past Highway 100, where the traffic clears up. Figuratively, of course.

Who am I kidding. Women are confusing. Emotions are confusing. Real Life is confusing, and sometimes, it just doesn't make sense. Unfair, even. And even though stuff happens that you'd rather not happen, it's not really worth it to lose your mind over it. I think you're allowed to lose your mind for a little bit, and then after that, it's time to decide how you're going to get through the gridlock. I think I'll be okay sitting in traffic for a while. To some extent though, it's almost refreshing to go on this crazy rollercoaster of a ride. It lets you know that you're capable of feeling certain things - of seeing your life writ large.

Anyways, enough of the cryptic life references. My loyal readership knows exactly what I'm talking about, and in reference to whom, but it's still uncomfortable to name proper names online. And unnecessary. But seriously... I still hate traffic. Real traffic.

I've been feeling vaguely more productive lately, thanks to my judicial clerkship. Of course, I haven't exactly done anything yet, save sit in court and go out to lunch with the baliff, court reporter, and law clerk, but who's keeping track? But my judge is a fair, intelligent, and quality person, who is very good about keeping me in the loop. I'm observing stuff, generally learning, and perfecting my pensive gaze. Also, I'm getting a crash course in the seedy underbelly of rural Minnesota. As the good Judge said, "5% of the people take up 95% of our time." Seriously folks, there are some messed up people out there.

Old News, Bad News, Great Idea

Multicultural crayons. I knew something was seriously lacking from my childhood.

BTW, going back to the last post, apparently BP is attempting to plug the Deepwater Horizon well via a procedure called "top kill," whereby they pump high density drilling liquid into the well, in the hope that it will stem the tide of oil. Maybe I'm just a little paranoid, but does anyone find it disconcerting that this is called "top kill," rather than say, "pump some mud into the well?" It just seems kinda cavalier - I have these images of these BP engineers thinking they're in a Michael Bay film.

BP - Broader Ponderings

Hi folks. I ended my tenure as an unpaid slave of the Federal Government today, working as I was with the United States Attorney. I'm happy to say I have a very nice coffee mug to commemorate my time, and a somewhat cheesy "certificate of appreciation." Who says the feds can't do swag?

Anyways, I've been thinking lately about this whole BP fiasco off in the Gulf of Mexico. Apparently, everyone is quite consternated as of late. The government is consternated that BP can't get its shit together, and take care of its own mess. BP is consternated that the government is making threats it apparently can't back up - for instance, that it will take control of the well plugging. And the public, in general, is pissed off at both.

As far as I'm concerned, the whole thing is just kind of a shitshow. A disaster of unprecedented proportion - more than likely worse than Exxon Valdez - in an underwater environment that no one really knows how to operate in. The federal government can't do too much except hope that BP can plug the well, since the government lacks the expertise to do it itself. And as seems to be the case, maybe BP, the creator of this destruction, doesn't quite know how to fix it either.

Check out these photos from the Boston Globe. They're incredible.

Anyways, a good friend of mine made a very prescient observation the other day, and I'm inclined to share it here. It's quite easy to get angry at BP, or at the government, or at both. More difficult, is to examine why we are having this problem in the first place. Meaning, why is it that we're drilling for oil in the Gulf of Mexico in the first place? Of course, there's a simple, yet disconcerting answer to that question - addiction.

We're all subject to it, of course, no one is really completely innocent - unless you're one of those folks that lives completely off the grid in Vermont somewhere. I'd venture to say those folks make up a minority of the US populace though. The cruel, simple fact, is that we keep drilling for oil in these completely unsuitable conditions, so that we can feed our addiction. I think this a difficult thing to digest, because we, as Americans; we don't like to look inwards for blame. We just seem to be a people who will do almost anything to avoid accepting responsibility.

Maybe I'm a bit cynical here, or maybe I possess an antiquated sense of moral justice, but it seems to me that in this spirit, people are also unwilling to undergo the hardship to fully experience things. Maybe it's only in baseball that self-sacrifice is still a worthy virtue. Not to mean that one should always be sacrificing oneself, but it makes zero sense to me that people are so concerned for their own convenience, their own self interest, as to go out of their way to confront themselves.

This is a bit confusing conceptually, though it makes perfect sense as I type it. Of course, this is just how confusing things work. The mark of a good writer, is to make the complex simple, whilst retaining the illusion of complexity. I'm still working on that quality, obviously.

Needless to say, back to the oil, we're drilling because we're addicted. The rig exploded because we're drilling. Sure, there was an intervening cause, but if we want to get a fuller view of the causation at issue here, we need to look at ourselves. Our unwillingness to make the sacrifices - financial, cultural, political, ideological - to fix the mess we've found ourselves in.

Anyways, that's what I think about that.

Happy Birthday Bob Dylan

To the pride of Hibbing, Minnesota, a very happy 69th birthday!

I know it's not Christmas, but this video truly has to be seen to be believed. Thanks Bob.

Books, books, books for pleasure?

Hello folks. You are now reading the blog of a man who has completed two years of law school. Truth be told, I haven't thought about it so much. It's just an incredible relief to not have to read about the limitation of liability act anymore. But since we're on the subject, and I am a maritime expert; no, I don't think the Deepwater Horizon will succeed.

In my semi-annual celebration of intellectual freedom, I bought a new book to read - for pleasure! That's right, as riveting as it is, Ian Macneil's relational theory of contracts just doesn't quite do it out in the sun. Instead, I'm reading Stephen Clarke's "A Year in the Merde." As some of you francophiles may know, "merde" is the beautiful tongue's word for "shit."



Needless to say, I've found it quite funny so far; in it's pseudo-true tale of an Englishman living in Paris amongst... sacre bleu! ... the French! But then again, I'm a fan of travel writing, especially hilarious travel writing about Europe. I think it's because I can relate to some of it. I've had a few of my own French foibles in particular. Still can't quite forget the amazing "American West" exhibit at the Metz Zoo.

What's the point of all this? There is no point. I've been spending my days as a gentlemen of leisure as of late, and I must admit, I fancy it quite a bit. In true British fashion, I tried my hand at making Pimm's the other day. Truth be told, it turned out pretty solid, though I think I need different lemonade, and cut up the orange slices a bit more daintily. Also need more morning jackets, women in big, silly hats, and drunken chavs brawling in the streets. Dammit, you just can't seem to find what you're looking for.

Tomorrow, I think I'm going to get up, and go on a biking sojourn. I have a couple things to think about, and nothing will help clear things up than a ride in the country. There's country around here, right? Farmington - I should hope so.

Friday Night Music Videos

Keeping with my tradition of being approximately 2-5 years behind prevailing pop culture trends and new music, here are some songs that have been catching my ear this week. Makes me want to watch Garden State again. Seemingly, the despair of two weeks of finals will correspondingly affect your music choices...

Death and Taxes

Because there's nothing better than spending 48 hours poring through the Internal Revenue Code. Foolish me, I've been trying to think up books to read this summer, but I have this delightful collated copy of Title 26 right in front of me. Maybe I'll just bring it to the beach!

Album of the Week/Criminal Procedure Review: Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix

I don't have time to review anything right now, I'm too busy fu¢@ing around with Terry seizures and the plentiful ways police can search your automobile. So, I'm just asking you folks to trust, based on my training and experience, that there is a reasonable likelihood this album is in fact, spectacular.

If I could, I'd Terry seize everyone and make them listen to "Wolfgang Amadeus Phoneix," but that would probably quantitatively and qualitatively interfere with your liberty interest such that it would exceed the scope of a Terry stop. Plus, I don't know if a failure to listen to this album constitutes sufficient "reasonable suspicion" that you are engaged in criminal activity or are otherwise armed and dangerous. Although, it is a totality of the circumstances test, so you never quite know.

However, assuming that I do have authority to seize you, it seems that just listening to the opening track (Lisztomania) would be permissible, since I'm diligently pursuing a means of investigation likely to quickly confirm or dispel my suspicions, such that it is necessary to detain you. My suspicion is that you haven't listened to Phoenix, which is fantastic French rock band, with hints of 80's synth, so it seems quite reasonable to assume that listening to one track wouldn't exceed the permissible scope of a Terry stop. The dangerously catchy beats, slightly foreign vocal stylings, and generally pleasing tone of this one track should be sufficient to confirm/dispel my suspicions. It doesn't matter that "Lasso" is only '2:48, while "Lisztomania" is '4:02, since it's not whether I failed to use a less intrusive alternative, but whether I acted unreasonably in doing so. "Lisztomania" is a bit catchier, so it's doubtful a court would find I acted unreasonably.

Let's assume I have probable cause to arrest you, based upon the crime of not listening to Phoenix, and the hazy, mind-melting crescendo of guitars and electronica on "Love Like A Sunset Part I." We'll just pretend you're in your car at the time of the offense. Boom, automatically, I can search the passenger compartment of your car for evidence relating to the offence of arrest. So, obviously, I'd be looking to see what worthless cd's (or other media) are lying about your glove compartment (within the lunging area, so plenty alright). Also, any containers where evidence of your illegal listening activities could be contained, are also subject to search - for example, your purse, backpack, etc. Probably not your wallet, because you can't stick an album in there. But since I can search your person incident to your arrest, and any containers or articles within your possession, in all likelihood, I'll be searching your wallet too. Actually, wait, you can fit a flash drive in your wallet, which could contain illicit mp3 files, so that'd probably be alright either way.

Okay, so now you're in the back of the cop car. Clearly, you're in custody, since you're being taken down to the stationhouse for booking (and rightfully so, this is a fantastic album, and in fact won the Grammy for best alternative album, whatever that's worth). Let's just pretend I clear my throat, and say in a loud voice to my partner "I really wish I knew where this poor sap tossed the 'Lady Gaga' album prior to arrest. After all, some kindergartner could find that, accidentally play it, and be emotionally and aurally damaged for the rest of their life." Overcome by guilt, you blurt out the location of the offending item. Is it going to be admissible in your upcoming trial for failure to listen to Phoenix? Good question.

You didn't get any Miranda warnings, and you were in custody. The question is, were you interrogated, and by that I mean, did I ask you an express question or its functional equivalent? Well, probably not. It wasn't directed towards you, and it's probably unlikely that I reasonably thought my statement would have been likely to elicit an incriminating response from you. Of course, during this whole conversation, we're going to be listening to the pseudo-apocalyptic "Armistice." Although, it's probably unlikely you're going to be signing an armistice, but rather a plea bargain. After all, the penalties for not listening to "Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix" are probably pretty harsh, and it's in your best interest to just plea, cooperate with the government, and hope that you just get the mandatory minimum, not the sentencing guidelines enhancement.

Moral of the story? Go out and pick up this album, because if you don't, you'll be arrested. It is, ah, dangerously excellent.

Round Four

It's that time of year again - final exams. I suppose the stress quotient, on the whole, is somewhat less than in the past. Each passing endurance makes it a little easier to bear. But that doesn't quite diminish the fact that finals, empirically, suck.

The inevitable worst part of finals isn't necessarily the exams, but rather the isolation. Studying for exams tends to be such an isolated activity, and I think it just gets tiresome spending so much time alone. After all, the Fourth Amendment can only get one so excited.

However, I'm happy to say that I'm off to a good start. I won the pop quiz at the admiralty party this morning, and am now the proud owner of a Toblerone bar roughly the size of a small ocean liner. I always knew my knowledge of "Hook" would come in handy one day...

In any event, I'm sure it will all be a riot.

Jazzy Weekends, etc.

Folks, I think it not inaccurate to say that however much jazz you currently have in your life, it is not enough. Everyone needs more jazz. After all, it is America's music.

In pursuit of this goal, I journeyed to Stillwater on Friday evening to hear the Luther Jazz Orchestra, a fine ensemble which I had the distinct pleasure of playing in for a time. And let me tell you, it was quite pleasant. Always nice to see a certain Tony Guzman, although I was incredibly distressed to not hear the Lutheran "Tony Guzmansson" joke. Damn thing cracks me up every time...

Of course, I also got to see some old friends, both in the group and not. Once again, that was very nice. A relief, even. It's always nice to know, as I've alluded to before, that you're remembered. So be it for music played some time ago, or experiences shared even closer in time, it's always nice to know that you matter. That was fun; I'm still fairly certain that the second alto believes I put a man in the hospital in England. Inside jokes, gotta love 'em.

The band sounded great, just great. I was very impressed, and very proud. In some respects, it's humbling. We freeze those moments in time, those four years, and in their cryogenic state, they become part of a contained system. And they are contained, because experiences, everything; it's all unique to us and our circle. But once that seal has been put down, sometimes you tend to forget that you are only part of a continuum, and that your time is only one of thousands, maybe even millions of times. So as special as it was to be (assuredly), the greatest third trombonist to ever grace the Jazz Orchestra, it's so nice to know that new folks are filling in quite capably, and bringing more prestige. Not going to lie though, definitely made me want to get my Limbo Jazz on.

One other disappointment - they did not play Limbo Jazz. No!

Bottom line, it was a lot of fun. For those Luther jazz alums and fans who were not fortunate enough to hear them this year, you can be assured that we're all being done proud. It was a nice night - yes, even that part (cryptic!).

In the interests of photographic fun, here are some trombontastic clips from the 2008 Jazz Orchestra tour to Brazil. Caipirinhas, anyone? The correct answer is sim, obrigado!