Thursday, July 2, 2009

Jacksons, Romans, Countrymen.. Lend Me Your Ears!!

Phillip Graham said that journalism is the first draft of history. He was correct as most historians use newspapers as the starting point for the analysis of the past. I’ve watched with interest the coverage of the events in Iran, the debate over health care and the unexpected death of Michael Jackson. I understand that Michael Jackson was, and will always be a cultural phenomenon and icon. I understand the importance of pop culture as it relates to our larger world, but I can’t help but think that the media has missed an opportunity to seize on the public’s renewed interest in current events in failing to spoon feed a little analysis to the general public of two events that will very probably shape all of our lives for a long time. And what of the historians twenty years from now. Where will they start in their analysis of the events of our time? Will the first draft of those historical events come from blogs and tabloid television? Or will the dearth of reporting of the major events that are sure to affect our legacy be viewed as the very reason for our decline as a people and become the main point of analysis for historians? One cannot be sure until it is written. We do know that the Roman Civilization devolved into a republic of the ignorant. We also know that they failed. George Santayana said that those who cannot learn from history are doomed to repeat it. I sincerely hope that our country learns from the history of other great civilizations and pays close attention. We cannot all become pop culture savants awash in a sea of political ignorance lest we fall as the Romans did.

Trialdawg

Milwaukee, Wisconsin.

Sunday, June 28, 2009

Summer Break!

As a boy, I looked forward each year to the extravagance of summer. I would sit in class and mark time while my mind wandered the trails and streams of my grandmothers home, rode my bicycle up and down my county road and fished the lakes and ponds of my youth. For over twenty years, my body and mind was accustomed to the mid-year break that is summer and even though my school days are long gone, I still have a twinge of that lustful urge to squander an afternoon in the movie theater while the asphalt boils under the summer sun. We swear to ourselves that we will not get old, that we will not become our parents and then it happens. We wake up one June and forget that this month used to be one of rest, reflection and even fun.

Not me, not this year. It has been a long six months for Karla and I and we are out of here for a week. Karla and I decided long ago that life is too short to work twelve hour days and never take the time to enjoy the fruits of our labor. I encourage all of you to take the time this summer to enjoy the fruits of your labor. Be kind to yourselves and celebrate the very good things that have happened to you over the past six months. Karla and I are off to Milwaukee to enjoy some good live music, baseball games, Lake Michigan and some of the very best people the planet has to offer. The bell has rung folks and its time for recess! I'll see you all from Milwaukee!

Sunday, May 3, 2009

Reflections on a week past.

I look forward to the week ahead because it isn’t as full as the previous one. I have a birthday Tuesday, but this one doesn’t feel as good as last year’s. Last year I was preparing to go to Baltimore, but this year I have no such plans. Perhaps next year. We are headed to Milwaukee next month, a trip that we missed last year so it isn’t as if Karla and I won’t have a vacation this summer. We have a trial to finish first and then it is out to Milwaukee, the land of lakes, concerts, beer, bratwurst and most importantly, Austins. A week in Milwaukee is as good as two weeks almost anywhere else. Karla and I come back bloated, hung-over, tired and full of memories and smiles which last us until the end of the year. Good people those Austins.

I haven’t had as much time as I like to keep up with the news this week as it is almost always entertaining. I have watched with some interest this swine flu business and I marvel at both the panic that folks can whip themselves into and the importance the executive branch thinks it has in these matters. The media thought that Joe Biden’s comments about staying home during the swine flu “pandemic” would turn us into a nation of shut ins. They shouldn’t have worried, I don’t think anyone listens to Joe Biden very much. I think he needs to go to Dick Cheney’s “undisclosed location” and wait it out there, far away from the news cameras that he loves to make a fool of himself in front of. I did find it amusing that President Obama tried to explain the economic crisis to each of us as if we were the intelligent populace that we strive to be, then treated us as first graders minutes later when he told us, with all manner of seriousness, that to prevent the spread of disease, we should cover our mouths when we cough and wash our hands a lot. Good advice Mr. President. My first grade teacher Ms. Taylor would be so proud.

I’ve been kind of down this week because in the midst of the insanity, David Poole, a man I admired and respected, died suddenly of a heart attack at the age of 50. David covered NASCAR for the Charlotte Observer for twenty years and also hosted a NASCAR call in show on Sirius Satellite Radio. I listened every morning and was informed and entertained without fail. He and I would correspond by email on occasion and had some pretty spirited exchanges about NASCAR rules, the history of the sport and the economic viability of its future. He was a historian at heart and wrote a fantastic book about the late Tim Richmond. I enjoyed corresponding with him, listening to his opinions and laughing like hell at his outlook on life. The morning drive will never be the same and my email box will always be a little less full.

I had the pleasure of speaking to a few University students this week about the law and lawyering on Thursday. It wasn’t as much a speech as it was a discussion. I went out and told them who I was and what I did for a living and gave them a few war stories and then opened the floor up to questions. I was surprised to receive questions at such a rapid pace and in such a quantity that there wasn’t time to answer them all. As I listened to their questions, it was very easy to see myself in those chairs. They are now right where I was fifteen years ago. Full of optimism, excitement and terror at what I thought lay ahead. I explained that ours is a stressful profession and that the dull and earnest ones die young. I told them that they should laugh everyday, even if they don’t feel it appropriate. I told them to know the law without error, have impeccable ethics and be a ham, at all costs. I told them to be the jokesters in a world of straight men and women and most importantly, be remembered.

Finally, I heard late Thursday that Justice Souter will retire this summer from the United States Supreme Court. I have enjoyed his theory of jurisprudence over the years, even more so in the past five. He is not a majority writer as much as a Ginsberg or Scalia, but has a mind that I admire. I guess we’ll get to see President Obama’s theory of Legal Pragmatism much earlier on the Supreme Court than any of us expected. I will be interested to watch how a “result oriented” nominee will interact with a majority of theorists. I think Justice Scalia is already popping Tums.

I hope that all of you have a pleasant and productive week and have a chance to drink a few of your favorite Mexican Beers on Cinco De Mayo.


Take care, be well and do good work.


Trialdawg.

Saturday, May 2, 2009

Dark, Rainy Mornings Inspire Dark Prose

I've spent the morning writing a short story that was totally unexpected. I can’t explain what happened, but every time I thought I was at an end, I wrote another paragraph. I started at “I was preoccupied with death at ten. I shot a rabbit in my grandmother’s backyard. The shot only wounded him. Although his eyes were exactly the same as moments before, I noticed a thin, white border around his chocolate brown iris that betrayed the calm of his wounded body. When I killed him, his eyes died before his body and he seemed at peace. I wounded him because I wanted to know what it was like to kill something. I killed him to end his suffering. The wounding sickened me, the killing empowered me. I’ve spent the rest of my life in pursuit of reconciliation.”

I developed those opening lines into the darkest and most extraordinary story I’ve ever written.

I've made no secret that I've worked steadily on a book for months now. The process has been fun because I can pretend to be an evil, sadistic bastard without actually becoming one.

Stay tuned.

Trialdawg.

Saturday, April 25, 2009

Those Who Make Trouble in Their Own House will Inherit the Wind

I was reflecting this week about a time when a law school buddy and I were in law school and were in a little law office in Oklahoma City learning how to do a property record search at 5th and Kerr Street, just down the street from the Oklahoma County Courthouse. Kerr street is one way and so we had to go up a couple of blocks to Harvey street to get back on the street the right way to get a parking place. We hit Harvey at 7:45 AM and drove west to fifth street to make the turn south. A little over an hour later, we heard the explosion and felt the concussion. I have never told that to a soul, not even KJ. My friend and I made a pact that we wouldn't tell our family how close we were to the explosion. He had a new wife, and KJ and I were newly married and I didn't want to worry her or my family, but we were too damn close. That was ten years ago today and to this day, I can still remember how that explosion sounded and what it felt like and I will probably remember it until the day I die.

I wrote the preceding paragraph a few years ago and it seemed appropriate this week to add it to this blog. Although it is a different year, the sentiment is still the same and the memories are just as vivid.

Sunday, April 19, 2009

The Fancy Funky Fandango

Someone reminded me that I will be 38 years old this year. That same someone told me that I don’t act that old. I thanked her for the compliment and as I walked away I had a chance to think about what she’d said. She hadn’t said that I didn’t LOOK 38 years old, but that I didn’t act like it. I am still fatuously grateful for the compliment, even if it wasn’t the one I thought she gave me. As a side note, she later explained that she meant that I don’t seem that old and I suppose that could include my actions as well as my looks. For the record, I don’t feel 38 years old, and I sure as hell don’t act like it. I think I am ready to let my twenties go though. They were very good to me, but I look forward to bigger and better things in the coming years. Age is just a number anyway. You are only as old as you think you are and while I wanted to be a grown up, even as a kid, I never wanted to get old. That feeling is not shared by my contemporaries.

I have friends and other folks I know that approach me every few weeks, their hands clasped together in a double fist so tight their knuckles are white while they wear an expression of urgency and expectation on their faces. They can’t wait to tell me what their new malady is. Lord, its leper colony out there. One guy insists on telling me the frequency with which his erection flags and his concern that he has a low sperm count. He asked me if this had ever happened to me (he is 3 years younger than I). I told him that sperm count and erections are completely unrelated and that my payload, and the delivery system (everything from the ICBM to the Minuteman), have always worked just fine. I thought he was going to have a heart attack when I told him this. In fact, a week later he came to me and said that he thought he was having chest pains and went to the hospital where they told him he had gas, gave him some pepto and sent him home. Another guy thought his colon was blocked because he had been constipated for three days. Another colleague of mine can hear about a rare disease on television which affects only the Australian Bushmen and within a week he will have developed symptoms which mimic with precision the Australian Bushmen disease, this despite the fact that he is neither Australian nor a Bushman. I am convinced that when he does die, his last words will be “See, I told you so”.

The point of all this is my confusion at these people’s disappointment when they found out that nothing is wrong with them. I am convinced that it isn’t age that is killing people, it is the stress on these people from worrying about what is going to kill them. To that end, here are a few tricks I have developed to combat stress.

(1.) Dance.. I don’t mean the formal dancing you’ve seen taught in college nor even the rhythmic shaking that one would see a club. No no, I am talking about MY dance, which I am prone to bust out at any time. Here is how it is done: Step 1: Squat down so that the top half of your body is parallel to ground and your rear end is stuck out and slightly up, your legs should be bent at the knees (unless of course you’ve figured out some other way to get into this position without doing so). Step 2. Your arms should be slightly bent at the elbows (unless of course you have unhealed compound fractures and then you may bend your arms at any point you choose) Step 3. The music should now start in your head, audible music is acceptable, but is not nearly as much fun. Step 4. Ok, start with you legs, straighten and then re-bend first your right leg and then your left leg so that your body is gently rocking from side to side, simultaneously work your butt up and down, continue while at the same time punching the air first with you left hand and then your right hand at the end of every third punch, do a windmill with alternating arms and alternating directions, continue.. at the same time, bob your head from front to back, left to right and every 4th revolution stick out your tongue and auto-rotate your head like the helicopter pilots do. Finally, if you’re not too dizzy by this point, spin your entire body around every 60 seconds, pause and then place each hand on your knees and do the “crossover” three times. Repeat as necessary. I call this dance the Fancy Funky Fandango. You get extra points if you do it in a set of Kocha Shells and a loin cloth.

(2) Sing. But don’t just sing a song, just snippets of random lyrics to the tune of an entirely unrelated song. For example combine Gavin DeGraw’s “I’m In Love With a Girl”, The Moody Blues’ “Nights in White Satin” and Motley Crue’s “Girls, Girls, Girls” to form “I’m in love with a girl in White Satin, Long legs and burgandy lips.” Sing it to the tune of 2 Pac’s “California Love” just for fun.

And finally,

(3) Exercise. I don’t do this as often as I should. Just for fun, moonwalk around the track. Or play a prank. My favorite is to put olive oil on the weight bars.

So there you have it, my tips for combating stress. We all need to laugh a little and at times, we need to laugh a lot, even at ourselves. Now get out there and have some fun!


Take care, be well and do good work.

Trialdawg.

Saturday, April 4, 2009

Whoa, You Don't Know The Shape I'm In..

Its been awhile since I’ve posted anything, a product of a complicated professional life and illness in my personal life. Things were fine until I came back from a few days of R&R. I didn’t feel sick, just a little lethargic. I had a dull pain behind one of my eyes and a general feeling of listlessness. A short time later my throat began to hurt. I’ll spare you dear readers the details, but the pressure finally ended this week when a small placenta came out of my face along with part of my brain. I don’t think it was anything important, but I can’t seem to remember my primary colors anymore and simple arithmetic is a chore. I also can’t talk good no more. I’ve got a lot of things saved up from my three week hiatus, but I’ll ease into it.. Stay tuned gentle readers.

Take care, be well and do good work.

Trialdawg.

P.S. My thanks to The Great Levon Helm and The Band for the title of this blog.

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Playing Hookey

I'm spending a few days playing hooky in Oklahoma City attending the Big XII Championship for both the men and the women. Karla and I have been through two and a half days of constant basketball and it has been a blast. We saw Kansas and Kansas State get beat this morning and now we are about to walk back to the arena to see Oklahoma play Oklahoma State and Missouri play Texas Tech this evening. I have never been prouder of my home state as I have been this week. Oklahoma City really knows how to put on an event of this magnitude and the atmosphere downtown is incredible. Karla and I have got our red gear on and are ready to cheer our Sooners on to victory.

Later.

Trialdawg.

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Karla

Last week was a long one for Karla and I, but I am convinced that it was longer for Karla. We defended a woman charged with what amounted to attempted first degree murder. I use “we” because she was as much a part of this case as I was. Almost everybody wonders what Karla’s job is, and I simply say "she works with me" because I can’t put a single label on what she does. Every time she and I try one of these things, I marvel at how different she is from every other woman I’ve ever met. I silently laugh because everybody in the outside world wants to talk earnestly about music, relationships, cars, homes, famous people, trends, fashion and everyday life to her as if that is the sum total of her existence. Few people have a clue what she actually does or how brilliantly she does it. The truth is, she can do ANYTHING and she is brilliant at it.

I’ll start with what was on the line last week. A woman accused of shooting her second husband in the back, with a .12 gauge shotgun. A woman, in her forties, facing a life sentence. A woman with two children she bore for a father who has since died. Two children, whose mother could go to prison for the rest of their lives. A woman who has never had a break in her entire life. A woman that every single person in this county bet against. A case with terrible facts, little hope of success and the scorn of all concerned. A woman that every person thought deserved prison, except a jury of twelve people.

Karla took this cause to heart, just like every other cause we accept. We tried this case with a friend of mine, one of the best trial lawyers I’ve ever seen. He and I marveled at all of things that Karla can do. She worked with us on strategy and came up with the WINNING strategy. She organized a trial notebook that helped us find everything at exactly the right time. She created trial exhibits that made even the State’s experts and law enforcement officers say “wow, where did you get those?” With all of the money and resources the State of Oklahoma has, Karla outperformed them at our kitchen table for less than $100.00. She sat in the Courtroom and listened to every single witness, took notes and gave us advice. She argued with passion to me that we had to do something to make this jury see things from our client's point of view, and when I didn’t have anyone to testify to that point of view, she helped me get testimony from the State's witnesses that made the jury see our client's point of view.In short, Karla helped win this case. Our client went home after a not guilty verdict.

A superhero is someone or something that saves lives. Karla helped save this woman’s life and because of her, her children have their mother back. As good as Karla is, she never brags, never asks for credit for anything and she never really tells people what she does. There is nobody else that I’d rather go to trial with, there is nobody better at everything she does and nobody looks as good as she does doing it. She is a wife, a sports nut, travel companion, math whiz, cheerleader, Ryan Newman fan, comedienne, paralegal, a fiend of all things OU, jury consultant, graphic designer, photographer, interior decorator, concert buddy, honorary trialdawg and my best friend. She is THE Superwoman.... yes she is.

Love ya babe.

Trialdawg.

Monday, February 16, 2009

Ruminations on President's Day

Why do we celebrate President’s Day? I suppose it is to honor all the men who have held the job. I looked earnestly for a parade or rally of some sort, but to no avail. I was always under the impression that if you had a day off, you were obligated to attend a parade. I found no parade or rally to attend, so I am going to do the next best thing. I am going to dress up as my favorite president and parade around my own home. I have always liked William Henry Harrison because I think he did a lot for the presidency. He gave the longest inaugural address in history, in a cold rain and died a month later from pneumonia. All Presidents following him learned two simple rules for inaugural protocol. Keep it short and put a damned coat on. Who knows how many Presidential lives he saved by his selfless acts. So today, I will don a shirt and tie, sans coat and hat and cough a lot. I will ramble incessantly about the Whig party and what a failure Van Buren was and when my wife complains, I will remind her that upon my death, she will receive $25,000.00 cash and free postage for life.

Happy Presidents Day.

Trialdawg

Saturday, February 14, 2009

Balance

I write the following entry for myself, but the readers are welcomed to read along.

I’ve worked hard over the past few months at my mantra to do better, in everything. The mantra has had some unexpected and unintended consequences. Time has taught me that I suffer from a tunnel vision which seems to focus on one problem with laser-like precision at the expense of all others. I’ve learned that when I commit to something, I do it with my whole heart, body and soul and leave little time for much else. I guess I’ve always been that way, even as a child. I’ve never been a juggler or much of a multi-tasker as I felt I was shortchanging the true task at hand. That focus has served me well at times of great stress in both my personal and professional life, but it has also been a great disservice to those things that weren’t important enough for that great focus. As a result, I’ve been great for a time at many things, a husband, a lawyer, a son and a friend as the circumstances required. On the other hand, my performance in all of those areas over time has been mediocre and at times, an abject failure. When I get into office mode, I suck as a friend, as a son and I really suck as a husband. When I am being a great husband, I am downright neglectful of my practice and the good people that pay our bills.

I am working very hard this year to try to find some balance in my life. I want to continue to practice the best law that I can because that work feeds my soul and puts dinner on our table, but I don’t want to look up one day and realize that I am alone and have pushed every single person away to do what I love to do. I want to spend meaningful time with my wife. I want to hang out with my mom and dad while they are still here instead regretting all the things I should have done after they are gone. I want to spend more time with my brother who makes me feel like a normal person. I want to be a better friend to the friends I have and I want to be more than just a Godparent that sends gifts and money. For the first time in my life, I am a little frightened of what lies ahead because the last two months have been trial and error in pursuit of the balance that I must find. I am afraid that I’ll never find it, but I won’t stop trying. To my friends, thanks for being my friend, even when I’m unfriendly, to my clients, thank you for the opportunity to serve you and the faith you place in Karla and I. To my family, I hope to see you all a lot more. I’ve got a lot to tell Karla, but that will happen over a Valentine’s Day dinner that will mean a lot more than the gifts we’ll give one another.

Be well everybody and Happy Valentines Day.

Trialdawg.

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Quotes

I've heard alot of things I've thought noteworthy over the past few days. Its more interesting to simply list them tonight. I am too wired for linear logic..

"Save Bandit!!"
-The Office

"Airports are like stuck up malls."
-Karla

"Liberace called, he wants his shirt back"
-Me to my officemate (Ok I stole that one, but its still funny and the shirt was especially bad)

"You've left a lot of possibilities open"
-My officemate in response to my telling him not to do anything I wouldn't do.

"I am very picky about the consistency of my oatmeal"
-Karla

"Naked women are the new crack!"
-A fellow lawyer (Amen brother)

"Britney Spears was a lot hotter when she was crazy"
-Anonymous

"I don't dance, it looks like an ostrich vomiting"
-Me

"Enjoy your geek adventure"
-Karla to me when I told her I was going outside to look at the space station.

Yes I know, I live and work in a locker room full of juvenile delinquents, but don't we all.

Trialdawg.

Saturday, January 31, 2009

Posts From A Melting Ice Cave

I was a prisoner in my own home this week as sleet, freezing rain and the occasional snow flake inundated my town. I love those days because they are a throwback to childhood. They are bonus days which are unexpected and unplanned. Those are the days that Mother Nature dictates the schedule and the world is along for the ride. I check the weather religiously and usually know what the next few days hold, but I got busy early last week and forgot to follow my pattern. As a result, I was really surprised on Monday when the first rumblings of the storm headed my way. I went home Monday night and didn't come back to the office until Thursday morning. I thought I took home plenty of work to keep me busy through two days of exile. I was wrong. By Tuesday afternoon, I completed all of the work I’d brought home and boredom began to set in. Karla was sick for three days last week and spent most of it in a Nyquil induced coma, I was left to fend for myself. Here is a sampling of what I did to pass the time.

1.) Moved furniture for no particular reason.

2.) Reprogrammed my voice recognition system to follow my elmer fudd voice. Example “Go to sweep wittle computer; hahahaha.

3.) Spent an hour reading about “twitter” and its place in the business world. As a side note, I still don’t get it and I refuse to use anything with the word “twit” so prominently featured in the name of the product. Furthermore, I refuse to “tweet” anything, I am a man, not a small bird you idiots.

4.) Watched about 100 episodes of “The Office” and learned that “FNC double time” means front and center, twice as fast as you would normally go.

5.) Listened to Karla snore.

6.) Learned that when I snore, Karla finds it acceptable to hit me in the face, while I sleep.

7.) Danced to the disco music from “Car Wash”.

8.) Watched OU beat OSU, the Thunder beat the Memphis Grizzlies and Nebraska beat Kansas.

9.) Ordered tickets to the OU/Texas A&M game next week.

10.) Yahooed with Brother Mark.

11.) Listened to Karla snore some more.

12.) Wrote another chapter of the book.

13.) Learned that I don’t make coco or oatmeal to Karla’s satisfaction.

14.) Broke dishes.

15.) Learned that a house is really empty without a dog.

16.) Drank beer

17.) Woke up a snoring Karla, who responded by hitting me in the face. I responded as any battered husband would and bonded her out of jail. (Heh, just kidding).

The sun is out today and this ice is nearly gone. It will be 70 degrees tomorrow and my winter days will be another memory that I'll press in an album along with the pictures. Spring is just around the corner here in Oklahoma, but it was nice to have a few days of real winter weather. I’m always happy to give mother nature a few days of control, even at the expense of my sanity.

Trialdawg.

Monday, January 26, 2009

Laughter Really Is The Best Medicine.

Its been a tough week around the house, but I was better after this exchange in our kitchen yesterday morning...

Karla: "I rearranged the refrigerator because the water was compromising the structural integrity of my box".

Me: "That's what she said."

It sure felt good to laugh again!

Thanks Karla.

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Goodbye, Farewell and Amen




Life is funny almost everyday we live it. We plan things for months, we put them on our calendars because we expect things to happen in a certain order and we feel comfortable for that small measure of control over something we don’t really control at all. January 21, 2009 was supposed to be a good day. I had a lot of new clients coming in, I was to prepare for my cases in court tomorrow. Karla was to have lunch with her family and I was to go see my uncle. I was looking forward to a boat show with my brother and dad this weekend, and perhaps even a basketball game. I woke up at 7:45 AM to find Limbaugh, our 14 year old cocker spaniel asleep on her pillow in front of the foot of our bed. I went into the kitchen to clean up a little and five minutes later, I came back to the bedroom to find that she had moved to our bathroom. I had no idea that anything was wrong. I reached down to pet her, she lifted her head and that was the last time she ever moved. I touched her again, but she was gone. I moved her back to her pillow to get a better look at her. As I picked her up, she was limp and she took her last breath. Limbaugh died this morning of what I believe was a heart attack. She was gone in less than a minute. My typing these words is just surreal. Limbaugh is dead.

Before I begin, this is not a tragedy. She was 14 years old and had lived a long and happy life. Nor was she a person. This moment in Karla and I’s lives does not begin to compare to what thousands of people across this world will go through today when they lose a parent, a spouse, a child or a sibling.. But.. But..

But, with the exception of just a few days over the past almost 15 years, I have seen her, petted her and played with her. She wasn’t a human, but I liked her a lot better than most of the humans I meet. Karla and I were given Limbaugh four months before she and I were married. I moved from my parent’s house and into our apartment in 1994 while Karla stayed at her home. I had never lived by myself before and it was comforting to have Limbaugh there with me, as I was never alone. Karla and I shared custody of Limbaugh until Karla moved in after we were married. We became a family and Limbaugh has been there through every single step along the way. My graduation from college. An impromptu pre-bachelor party at the apartment where she ate my dear friend Chad’s wallet and ate a cigar. Limbaugh and I lost the deposit in one unfortunate tennis ball throwing incident that shattered a light fixture just days after we moved in. When I graduated law school, Limbaugh didn't treat me any different, she just wanted me to feed her, play with her and pet her. When Karla and I moved to Coalgate, Limbaugh came right along with us and adapted beautifully to the new surroundings and she corralled armadillos, goats, kittens, ducks and she “killed” many many possums. When I quit my comfortable job at the DA’s Office to open my own practice, Limbaugh displayed a brown eyed confidence that Karla and I would continue to take care of her in the manner to which she had become accustomed, and so we did. Although Karla convinced me that we should get a dog, Limbaugh became mine and she wanted to be where ever I was. Even in her last days of blindness, she knew where I was and wanted to be in the same room with me. She couldn’t see me, but she still watched my every move. She outlived five cats and seven fish and even in times of uncertainty, she was the one constant in Karla and I’s lives. We loved her like family and we miss her. In short, she was my friend.

This is not a tragedy, but it certainly hurts like one. She wasn’t a person, but we certainly treated her like one and it was almost as if she wouldn’t settle for anything less. I’ve been numb for the past few hours. I sat with her in her last minutes of life and then for a few minutes afterwards before I went in and told Karla, and then began the painful task of burying her. As I type this, the first tears are beginning to fall. I haven’t yet allowed myself to cry, because I don’t know when I will stop. The pain of the living does not negate their responsibility to the dead and this is the last thing I have to do before I begin to cry. She was a dog, but to Karla and I, she was so much more, one of the biggest parts of our lives and her death has left a stinging sense of loss and an immense hole that will take time to get over.

I will miss you Limbaugh. I will miss your confidence in Karla and I to take care of you. I will miss coming home to someone that is glad to see us. I will miss your defiance, your attitude and your destructiveness. I will miss the feeling that you owned us, not the other way around. I will miss the “baugh”, a cut that originated with you and will die with you. I will miss that on your sickest day, you were happy that we were home. I will miss bread pills and eye drops, barking at the neighbors and fighting over things on the floor. I will miss the reason for my name trialdawg. Finally, I will miss the looks you gave us, even when you couldn’t see us, dog treats even when you did something wrong and the best dog I’ve ever had.




Karla and I miss you Limbaugh. Rest in peace old friend.




We love you...

Trialdawg and KJ.

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Play it again Sam!

I've heard all week that Sam Bradford would turn pro. He had many reasons to turn pro, almost 15 million reasons, but ultimately they weren't enough. I've always said that loving what we do is much more important than money. I understand his decision. I loved college. I loved every part of it. While I wouldn't trade the life I have now for anything, I have the fondest memories of college and I am glad that I got to enjoy all of them. Those years have made each subsequent year that much better. There is plenty of time to grow up Sam, enjoy class, enjoy the lifestyle and enjoy the sport of football. In short, play it again Sam, I'll see you September.

Trialdawg.

Saturday, January 3, 2009

Life In Pajama Pants

Karla and I took the previous week off and it has been a good one. I have left the house a total of three times and my uniform has been a pair of pajama pants and hideous house shoes. I did not intend to create a fashion trend with this outfit, it was just something comfortable that I enjoy wearing. For the first time in my life, I have a beard. I made a commitment to not shave over this vacation, and it will remain in place until I come back from Miami. I do feel a little self conscious about it because I am the only one that seems to notice. When I complete my beard, pajama pants and house shoes ensemble with an old hoodie, I have to be careful about going outside because my outfit also seems to be the same one mental patients wear. I worry that a rubber truck will drive up the house and take me to a nice quiet hospital where I’ll be taught to crochet with rubber implements, encouraged to sit in a circle with strangers and sip coffee out of a styrofoam cup while I am directed to talk about my problems. I am also concerned because my dear sister Eva actually sees people in the store in which she works wearing my exact outfit. These people led her to create the phrase “those are pajama pants, not life pants”. I do promise to eventually shave, don a pair of jeans and put some damn shoes on, but for now I am enjoying my Howard Hughes phase. In just a few days, Karla and I will be on a flight to Miami and I guarantee I won’t be wearing my pajama pants on the plane. The house shoes may be another story though.

Have a good day..

Trialdawg.

Friday, January 2, 2009

2009- A Resolution

As the new year descends upon us, many have written about what happened over the past 365 days, and I think that a worthy pursuit. I used to do just that, but 2008 doesn’t seem particularly worthy of reflection. I don’t know if it is my age, or a situational oddity exclusive to this particular new year. In a year of war, recession, and year that saw more than a few lose all that they had and more than a few of those few lose their hopes, their dreams and their very future, my trivial advances and good fortune don’t seem well placed here.

Instead, I simply want to wish each of you a belated happy new year. I hope you will join me in a resolution, a promise to ourselves to do better. Do not let the enemies of procrastination, despair and cynicism defeat that solemn promise to ourselves to do better. Do not bog down in the banality of trivia, allow hatred and greed to cloud our vision of a better us. Let us all make a decision to offer a helping hand to those in need and never to be shy about asking for that helping hand if we need it. Let us win this game of life with a happy heart and shake the hands of our adversary with a smile on our faces. Lets conduct ourselves as ladies and gentlemen, not because our parents taught us to do it that way, but because it is the right thing to do. Let us take better care of ourselves, because even if we hate who we are, somebody out there loves us and would be irrevocably broken if we weren’t around. Let us live each day thankful that we have this day to live and let us be mindful that nobody gets out of life alive. Let us be as quick to love and praise as we are to hate and criticize. Let us play the game instead of sitting idle on the sidelines. Let us do rather than be. Let us not be a country of nay-sayers awash in a sea of hope.

I believe that America’s best days are still ahead of us. We the people, you and I, are the only ones who can make America what we want it to be, but we have to do it together. So join me this 2009, stand shoulder to shoulder with me and pick up the weapon of your choice be it a gun, a pen, a song book, a law book, the Constitution, the Bible or the Koran and lets march forward behind a new President. Lets get better! Lets DO better! That my friends, will make 2009 a year worth remembering.

Take care, be well and do good work.

Trialdawg.