Random Rants 08

Whats wrong with people

2012-02-11T11:36:00.000-08:00

Three events today that made me think what the hell is wrong with people? I really wonder sometimes. How hard is it to just think for a second or be kind for a second? Or just not be a douche bag.

So there is some "rapper" (I use that term loosely and I sure as hell wouldnt call him a musician) Wiz Khalifa. I dont know if he thinks he is a wizard or not. Maybe he thinks Harry Potter is real. Maybe he thinks that you can be a real, live wizard. I dont know. Maybe, he just has to pee a lot. Anyway, he has this song "Young, Wild & Free." Okay, don't tell me I am old. The entire song is about getting drunk and getting high. And they play it on the radio. Actual lyrics: So what we get drunk?/So what we smoke weed?/We’re just having fun/We don’t care who sees."

Hey, I am all in favor of having a drink now and then. You want to get wasted? Be my guest. I have been drunk a few times. Not my cup of tea, but I don't hold it against anyone who wants to. Some of my really good friends get drunk, plastered, hammered. I get it. But we are now going to openly sing songs about rolling joints and sharing them? And this is fine for the radio? We have to bleep out bitch and asshole, but we can sing "we smoke weed" and that is acceptable?

Ignore for a minute whether we want to have songs about weed. They have been around since the 60s. Fine. But we are going to glorify smoking dope, something that, last time I checked, is illegal in this country (unless you have a "doctor's" prescription in California). Snoop Dog and Bruno Mars (who has already been arrested once for possession of coke) singing about smoking marijuana is fine? And the radios want to play this? I am so glad I talked to my kids last night about how drugs are bad. Now I get to explain to them that they are bad, but its okay to sing about it. Sheesh.

Then I get an email from a "friend." He referred a case to me. Long story short, there is a small disagreement. I write an email today to a list we are both on asking for some help on something. The response I get is that he is surprised I have time to do this since I havent gotten back to him.

First, you are in NY and there is a 3 hour time difference. So I tried, but your voice mail system sends it right to voice mail at 5:01 your time - which is only 2pm my time. Second, you called me at 6am my time. Maybe 630. IN THE MORNING! I'm sorry. I dont answer my phone that earlier unless its my wife or someone I know is calling with an emergency - and that means they are calling me at home. Third, you would think after 5 or 6 years of knowing each other, someone would have the courtesy to say "Hey, I havent heard back from you. I am a bit worried. Everything okay?" Apparently, I am wrong.

I know I have done this when its been a while since someone has been in touch, especially someone who I thought I was going to hear from. It had been a few weeks since I heard from a friend. I sent him a short note. Nothing fancy. Turns out he was in the middle of a crisis. I didnt need a lot of details. I sure as hell didnt need prodding. I did need to talk to him, but instead of saying "Hey, why didnt you get back to me" I asked if everything was okay because he had been quiet. I thought that was the right thing to do. I guess I was wrong.

And just so we are clear, yeah, I have bigger issues in life right now than the thing we are dealing with. I dont talk about most of it. I dont even know how to talk about it. I get teary eyed just thinking about it. So how the hell am I supposed to tell you about it? My friends now. My acquaintances dont. I have started to blog about it, but I stop. I cant complete it.

Maybe I fucked something up in the cosmic universe. Maybe this is karma for not telling my mom everything. Maybe this is just my draw in life. I dont know. I will figure it out this summer. But as one human being to another, I care more about whether you are okay then I do about the other crap. I guess that is wrong. From now on, I am going to care about making a buck over everything else. You call me up and dont really need to hire me? Pay me anyway. Show me the fucking money. Thats my new approach. I want to make as much money as I can. I want to have so much money that Juicy J renames the song about me. (Oh, google it, old folks.) Thats it. That is the meaning of life. Make as much money as you can and dont worry about people.

Fuck it. Thats not me. So, I guess I will go on worrying about my friends, acquaintances, colleagues and others and put the money end of it 2nd. Maybe that makes me the douchebag. I am fine with it. And, no, I dont care that I didnt get back to you right away. I was dealing with my own issues, which clearly are not as important as your money.

Then, we get to the idiot winners today. So I am driving down the street and there are these three kids in a Scion xA. Speeding up the road, slamming on the brakes, swerving all over 3 lanes. Ha ha, thats funny. No its not. So I grabbed my phone and called the police. I gave them the license plate, a description and told them where these morons were going. Apparently, these idiots figured out I was calling the police and rolled down their windows yelling at me, wanting to fight me. They turned, I went straight.

Most of you are lucky. You dont know it, but you are. You never have to deal with someone who died in a car accident. You dont see pictures. You dont see family members grieving. You dont see the aftermath. I have been dealing with the results of car accidents since I was 21 years old. Some arent bad. Some are awful.

I have seen pictures that I wont even begin to describe. I have seen grown men cry when they lose a wife, a child, a friend, in a car crash. I have seen kids lose parents, parents lose kids. I have talked to these people. I have friends who have lost siblings, parents in crashes. I have tried to put a dollar figure on what their loss is. It sucks. Its not possible.

These fucking idiots should lose their licenses. Not just the drive. All 3 of them. You sit in a car where your idiot friend is driving like that and you laugh and encourage it, you are as big an idiot as your friend is. You are a moron. A douchebag. I dont even have a word to describe you. What the hell is wrong with you?

Even your piece of crap Scion xA that should be blown up because its such a crappy car can kill someone. I told my boys, who were in the car with me, if they ever drive like that, I will take their licenses and cut them up. I will take the car keys. They will be done. I dont care if they are 16 or 18 or 21 or 25. You think your car is a toy? You are a fucking moron who needs to go spend a few hours at the morgue. Go out with the cops to see what an accident looks like.

Yes, so you Mr. White Scion with MAG in the license plate, you are a fucking piece of crap. I wanted to kick the shit out of you, but my kids were with me and a punk like you probably carries a gun with you. So I will let the cops deal with it. I hope one day you realize that your car isnt something to joke around with. I doubt you will learn that lesson until its too late. Oh, and tell your friends to hit the dentist and the barbershop. Teeth help if you are going to yell at someone and threaten to fight them. Otherwise, your boy sounds like Mike Tyson but looks like Carlton.

So there you go. Three examples of douchebags in one day. I am going "dancin' on the edge of the Hollywood sign."

Actual Conversation with a Debt Collector

2012-02-07T19:01:00.000-08:00

I got a call from a debt collector today. This is the actual conversation. Honest. Okay, I changed the name of the debt collector. His name is not Mr. Bill. And my client is not Mrs. X, but her name is confidential.

Ring........ring.........ring.............

Me: This is Jonathan.
Debt collector: This is Mr. Bill. I am calling about our mutual client Mrs X.
Me: I'm sorry. You are representing Mrs X too? In what capacity?
DC: Well, um, we represent Y debt collection agency.
Me: Oh, see I represent Mrs X so she is my client. She is not your client.
DC: Yes, but she owes us money.
Me: If you say so.
DC: How would she like to resolve this?
Me: You should just go away.
DC: Excuse me?
Me: You should just go away.
DC: Is she refusing to pay?
Me: No.
DC: So how would she like to resolve this?
Me: You should just go away. I thought I said that before.
DC: I dont understand.
Me: Look, she hasnt worked in over a year. She has no money to pay you.
DC: She can borrow money from her friends or family.
Me: Um, yeah, they dont have any money either. She is in significant debt and has had a medical emergency. There is no money.
DC: We can just take a small payment.
Me: Okay, here is what I will do. I will give you $50 out of my account to make this go away.
DC: So a $50 down payment?
Me: No. $50. Total.
DC: We can't accept that. The balance is $6,500.
Me: Well, you can take my $50 or you will never get any money.
DC: Are you filing bankruptcy for her?
Me: No.
DC: I dont understand.
Me: I am not a bankruptcy attorney. I don't file bankruptcy.
DC: Then why are you representing her?
Me: I sue debt collectors.
DC: What?
Me: I sue debt collectors. You know, people like you.
DC: Well she still has to take care of the balance.
Me: Okay, apparently I was not clear. My client hasnt worked in over a year. She has medical bills from a medical emergency. She has no money. I will give you $50 now or you can get nothing later.
DC: $50 is not enough.
Me: Then I guess nothing is better.
DC: She has to pay us money.
Me: Great. I will give you $50 right now.
DC: So she is refusing to pay?
Me: No. I will give you $50 to settle the account right now.
DC: That is not reasonable.
Me: Well, its $50 or nothing.
DC: So she is refusing to pay?
Me: (Audible sigh) I am sorry. Am I not clear? I guess I need to call my high school speech coach and apologize to him. I guess I was not paying attention in class because clearly I am not making myself understood. (slowly now) My client has no money. She has not worked in over a year. She has had a medical issue. I will pay you $50 now or you will get nothing later.
DC: So she will pay $50 down?
Me: No. Seriously, I dont know how to make this any clearer. I feel like I am speaking a different language.
DC: She needs to pay this.
Me: Let me try one last time. She has no money. I am her attorney. I sue debt collectors. However, I am willing to pay you $50 to go away and never be heard from again. If you won't take my $50 then I would suggest you close the file because you will never get a dime out of this woman. I promise you that.
DC: She is refusing to pay?
Me: No. She isnt refusing anything. She has no money. So you can either take my $50 now or I will fight this and you will never get any money.
DC: So I will mark it down as refuse to pay.
Me: Mark it however you want it. Just make sure you mark down that you refused my $50 because that is the last time I am offering any money on this. I will make sure I am clearer next time because apparently I didn't make my point with you!

Yes, that is a real, actual conversation. These people kill me! My client hasnt worked in over a year, has had major medical problems and has no money to pay the creditors. She will probably end up filing for bankruptcy, but not with me. Why not? Because I don't file bankruptcies - although maybe that wasnt clear either!

My letter to a debt collector

2012-02-03T14:42:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. Hanna:

I think its important we recap this matter before you “refer the matter to local counsel for suit.”

Your firm sent my client a letter on January 9, 2012. This would be the “initial communication.” Three days later you sent my client a letter demanding payment by January 16, 2012. That letter, dated January 12, 2012, went by overnight mail. Thus, my client received it on January 13, 2012. He did not receive your January 9, 2012 letter until after January 13, 2012. So, we have one violation of the FDCPA and one violation of the Rosenthal Act in that you demanded payment before the 30 day validation period expired.

On January 17, 2012, I sent you my letter advising you that I represent Mr. XXXX. I asked for validation of the debt and explained the above violation to you in that letter. I gave you 15 days to cure the defect. That fifteen day period has now expired. Then, on January 19, 2012 at 11:57am Pacific time, I received a call from your company. You have denied this happening and now you have come up with the blame the receiver excuse. This is actually worse than “blame the victim” or “blame the twinkies.” You are alleging that my business number was forwarded to my home number. I assure you in over 8 years of having my own firm, I have never once forwarded my business number to my home number and for a very good reason – I do not want debt collectors calling me at home.

But, since you persist with this ridiculous line of thinking, perhaps because you know that my number is unlisted and your employees must have obtained it through illicit means, I am enclosing a copy of a picture I took immediately after I hung up on your employee. You will see the date and time in the lower portion of the screen of the phone. At the top, you will see it says “Law Office” and has your number, 866-811-1159. Just to be certain, I called that number at 1:56pm today, February 3, 2012, and it was answered with an automated answering machine that says “Thank you for calling the Law Offices of Frederick J. Hanna and Associates, PC.”

Knowing this would not be acceptable proof to you, I went a step farther. I called my phone company. I asked them what number would appear on the caller ID if I had forwarded my business phone to my home phone. Surprisingly, at least to you, although not to the rest of the country who uses modern technology, the number that would have appeared would have been my office number. Clearly, the photograph shows that is not the case.

Of course, your defense is different than the one you gave me when we last talked on the phone, January 26, 2012. On the phone, your excuse was that you called the number on my letterhead and that the number on my letterhead must have been my home number. I assure you that the company that created my letterhead, who I might recommend to you for some updated letterhead, has NEVER put my home number on it. In fact, it’s a template that does not change and has not changed since they did it for me. My home number has never been listed on any of my letterhead.

I hope this puts an end to your blame the poor guy who gets a call from us at home when we shouldn’t even have that number argument. An admission that your company made a mistake and called me at home would be welcome, although I don’t see that forthcoming. As my mom taught me, I will not hold my breath.

Of course, this still leads us to another violation. The call on January 19, 2012 was an attempt to collect a debt. By that time, you had my information since you knew to call me. You had not provided validation of the debt. As I am sure you are aware, contacting a party to collect a debt that has requested validation is a violation of the FDCPA and the Rosenthal Act. This is your 15 day notice to cure that defect.

Then, on January 20, 2012, Ms. Layhew sent me a response to my request for validation. Although, her letter was not actually a response. Ms. Layhew sent me the “Assistant Secretary’s Certificate of FIA Card Services, National Association.” This appears to be a history of FIA Card Services, which I appreciate and may be interesting, but in no way is validation of the debt. This does not have any information which indicates my client owes anyone any money, let alone your office. This can, in no way, be validation of the debt.

Ms. Layhew then asked for payment of $6,006.50. I will remind you that the FDCPA and the Rosenthal Act require you to provide validation of the debt. Further, both Acts state you cannot take any steps to collect money until you do validate the debt. Ms. Layhew’s letter is far from validation as it includes no information about my client, his account or any evidence that he owes any money to anyone. Further, there is no assignment to indicate that you are entitled to collect money on behalf of FIA. Thus, this is another violation of the FDCPA.

On January 27, 2012, I wrote to Ms. Layhew and pointed this out to her. This was my third letter to your office. (Coincidentally, you will see that they all have the same number listed on the letterhead – 916 247 6868. That is still my office number and still has not been forwarded to my home.) I pointed out the lack of validation to Ms. Layhew and explained why this was a violation of the FDCPA and the Rosenthal Act.

You and I spoke again on February 2, 2012. At that time, you asked me how much my client was willing to pay to settle this account. Again, your firm still has not provided validation of the debt. Your continued demands for payment without providing any validation of the debt is another violation of the FDCPA and the Rosenthal Act.

Today, I received a “MEMORANDUM” from you, which you did not sign, dated January 31, 2012. In that, you provide the defense that you really didn’t call me at home. You also state “please advise by Monday, February 6, 2012, if we can resolve the debt your client owes.” Of course, this is another demand for payment when you have STILL failed to provide validation of the debt. This would be ANOTHER violation of the FDCPA and the Rosenthal Act.

As to your suggestion that you will refer the matter to local counsel, let me be very clear about the response you will see from me:

1. We will answer the complaint and deny all of the allegations;

2. We will file a cross complaint against Frederick J. Hanna & Associates, Ms. Layhew, yourself, FIA Card Services and whatever local attorney files suit. In that cross complaint, I will allege the violations of the FDCPA, the Rosenthal Act, violation of Business and Professions Code 17200, unauthorized practice of law, and violation of the California Constitution, Article I, Section 1.

3. We will immediately serve written discovery on all parties and notice depositions for the county where the complaint is filed;

4. We will vigorously pursue this matter to a jury verdict.

I want to be crystal clear about this. My client takes these violations very seriously. Your firm continues to attempt to collect debts, hundreds of thousands of active files, through these means, including completely ignoring Federal and State law. I plan on showing a pattern of practice and will pursue compensatory damages, attorney fees and punitive damages against all defendants. My client hired me in an effort to work with you to resolve this matter amicably. All you have done is blamed my client, harassed him, violated the law, invaded my privacy and then blamed everyone but yourself.

If you decide to pursue this matter, that is your right. You are now well aware of my position. I will defend my client and I will look forward to meeting you in court.

A few things on my mind

2012-01-31T20:12:00.001-08:00

I am sure I have something serious to write about, but I have to get some things off my chest. They have been bothering me for a day, maybe two. So I figure I should get these off my chest - in no particular order.

1. Music sucks. Have you heard some of this nonsense? Okay, so I wrote about it before here: http://randomrants08.blogspot.com/2009/07/todays-song-lyrics.html Go read it if you want to. But there is more of this guy Pit Bull. Im sorry, he is a bad copy of Vanilla Ice. Pit Bull is his name? Really? I get it - its a stage name. But its a dumb stage name. Pit Bull? The only thing scary about this guy is his music - it sucks! Please stop.

Then there is LMFAO. Okay, google it if you dont know what it means. The only thing funny is that people buy their music. Do they get that they arent very good? Its like fingernails down a chalkboard. Please, stop. Please? Party Rock Anthem is really like a group of crappy songs that someone spliced, er, sampled, together. One coherent song would be nice. Is that asking too much? I guess so.

2. Courtesy - what happened to it? So tonight I am driving to Target. Someone in the right lane wants to make a left turn. That doesnt work so well. So I wave them in. A courtesy wave is all that is expected back. Raise your right hand as a thank you. Its not that hard. But do I get one? NO! Not even a wave. I know, I expect too much. People really shouldnt have to raise their hand as a thank you. Its a lot of work. After all, it requires like 3 muscles being used. Would it be that hard? How about tomorrow if we all wave and thank someone who lets us in? Deal?

Then I get to Target. I buy two things. There are not a lot of check stands open. And none of them are the 10 items or less line. So I get in line behind these two women. They have a basket of stuff. They look at my cart with 2 things in it. They then put their stuff up. They dont ask me if I would like to go in front of them. Then they pay separately. Would it have been that hard to say "Would you like to go first?" I may have said no, but they could have at least offered. Would it have been that hard? Sheesh!

3. Profanity - What the fuck is wrong with these shithead dumbasses who think that profanity in every sentence is cool? Its not fucking cool. If you overuse this crap, it makes it as useless as ............something. Something really useless. Look, I get that the occasional f bomb gets someones attention. True story. A friend of mine called me and was going to send me a thank you for helping him out. I told him not to. He said he was going to anyway. I said "Fuck you." He stopped and said it was the first time he had heard me use profanity.

But when you use it all the time, it loses something. Its not powerful. It really makes it sound like you have no command of the English language and you can't come up with something else to say. Example "I cant fucking believe you are such a fucking dickweed asshole." By the time you get to asshole, its expected. Better "I cant believe you would treat a friend that way, asshole." See, you arent expecting it in sentence two. So it has some power to it.

Oh, and profanity in public is even lamer. You just sound like an uneducated douchebag, even if you are in a $1,000 suit. And the louder you get, the more uneducated you sound. So how about if we cut back on that a bit, eh? (See, the random use of eh gets your attention!)

4. Funerals - Okay, I will probably elaborate on this in the future, but a funeral is no place to talk politics, law or anything else. Look, I am sorry Joe Paterno died. Don't tell me he is a hero or did nothing wrong. Talk to me about the good he did. Talk to me about how sad you are. Talk to me about the void that now exists. Leave the other stuff out. Also, don't tell me its a blessing when someone dies. It isnt. Ever. I promise. They may not be suffering anymore, but death is not a good thing. Death is not something to be celebrated and no one really thinks its a blessing. We may think our loved one is not suffering or not in pain, but that is different from good. Is that fucking clear?

Profile - Nick Caccavo

2012-01-25T20:23:00.001-08:00

Imagine having a standard upbringing, or as Nick Caccavo put it, an upbringing as “generically portrayed by Hollywood PG movies.” Nick grew up in a house with a mother who was a pharmacist (something near and dear to my heart as the son of a man who was a pharmacist at one point) and a father who is a well regarded, Vermont lawyer. As Nick put it, he didn’t “grasp the reality that the world is not an even playing field outside of Disney movies and my own little world” with this upbringing.

Nick changed majors in college from business to history and joined the Army ROTC to pursue his dream of fling Apache helicopters. Nick spent two years in the ROTC and was set to graduate and become an officer when he realized that it wasn’t for him, probably for a variety of reasons. Nick lost some direction, but ended up with a double major in history and political science with a minor in archeology. Deciding to spend a semester abroad, in a place he would never go on vacation, Nick of course chose the University of Ghana. As Nick says “Once there, I was confronted with realities that I couldn’t really appreciate up until that point.”

Nick can explain his first experience in Ghana better than I ever could. As Nick tells the story “My first experience in Ghana (aside from nearly wetting my pants while waiting to get through customs) was getting ripped off. When I stepped out of the airport some jumped up and stole my bags. I followed him of course, and fortunately he put them in the waiting van chartered to bring me and other fellow international students to the university. He charged my $20. I didn’t particularly enjoy losing control of my belongings that fast, but thrilled that it had worked out ok I paid him his fee. Only afterwards did I discover he was just some random dude and that $20 was at least a month’s pay for him. Most other students hadn’t been so easily fooled and had either outright refused the service or been parted with only $1-5.”

Joseph Conrad’s “Heart of Darkness” is how Nick describes much of Ghana, even when you can buy most things for $1 and the people are friendly. Nick realized that nothing was on time, busses were no shows, as, scarily, were the professors! The government would literally rubber stamp documents and, despite the age of computers in most of the world, much of Ghana still used actual paper for the paperwork! Nick felt most people in power were trying to make life difficult for those people who needed help. Nick realized that there were a million problems, but that they all stemmed from people not fixing things.

One day, Nick was invited to see a library built by a local friend of his and a group of students. Nick thought “Heck yeah. Finally, someone is actually doing something instead of just talking about it.” Nick and four other American students went on the visit. The library was impressive. Small, well placed and freshly painted. There was only one problem: there were no books. A library with no books is about as functional as a Kardashian marriage. Nick realized then that things that had to be improved. Nick says “I didn’t know how to solve any of the bigger issues I’d been struggling with, but I sure as shit wasn’t going to waste my time reading story books to a bunch of little kids that didn’t even understand English at some orphanage for a day. I decided to stock that library with books.”

As with most things, Nick realized that this was easier said than done. They all wanted to do something and they decided to work together to reach their goal. After 2 months of weekly meetings, they had accomplished having 2 months of weekly meetings! But, Nick did learn “a lot about managing groups of people with disparate personalities and cultures.”

Nick returned to the US and talked to his close friends and family into helping him get books. He even went to his old high school. His high school librarian put him in touch with a network of Vermont librarians and Nick learned that libraries are always getting rid of old books. The libraries are often glad to find someone to take away the old books for free, especially for a good cause. Taking his Chevy Prizm, Nick drove around and picked them up. Shortly after graduating college, Nick’s parents’ barn was piled high with over 5 tons of books.

Moving back home after college, Nick did not have any luck finding a job. So he decided to raise money to ship the books to Ghana. By the end of the summer, Nick had enough money to send the first batch of books. Nick had incorporated along the way and “built up a network of donors and volunteers in the US as well as a support base and partnerships with organizations and communities in Ghana (my friend Kwabena Danso had been organizing the community in Ghana simultaneously in preparation for receiving the books). By the time the books shipped, we were a little non-profit organization.”

Once the books were there, Nick decided to continue and address other issues in the community. Students couldn’t attend school due to a lack of money and women couldn’t get loans. It became Nick’s goal to “address inequality of opportunity in this community and build their autonomy so that they could pull themselves up by their own boot straps.”

What have they accomplished? Over 150 women have started or grown businesses with microloans. Each year, seventy children attend school with books, uniforms, backpacks, paper, pens, lunch and school fees all paid for. There is a bamboo bike making workshop. Soccer teams have been sponsored along with emergency medical care to people in need. A pen-pal program has put together over 1000 people in the US and Ghana. Thousands of books have ended up in libraries. Teachers are now coming back to combat “brain drain.” They are now half way towards reaching their goal of making the operation entirely locally run. There are seven paid staff members in Ghana who administer all of the programs. I could go on and on, but you should check out the website www.yonsoproject.org.

As for our young Nick, he is no longer 20 years old and unsure of his future. As he said “Personally, one of my big concerns as a 20 year old looking into the future was that I’d waste my 20’s (I know, pretty heavy stuff. Good thing I’m the only one in the world who has to deal with issues of this magnitude). At the time, getting killed or disgruntled in the Army seemed the most likely risk. Now that I’m getting close to done with my 20’s, I look back and realize that they just kind of disappeared into all this Yonso Project stuff (which has been a lot of work and frustration mixed with some success, and all volunteer) and I’m still basically in the same place I was when I was 20, not knowing what I want to do career-wise or life-wise. But I at least hope that for whatever the ultimate reason, it will turn out that I made the right choice back in college when I turned in my gear and walked away from the army.”

I, for one, am inspired by Nick. This kid could have easily graduated college, found a job, obtained a master’s degree and worked, providing a nice life for himself. Instead, he found a way to make a difference. This is an inspiring story.

Profile - Tanya Hernandez

2012-01-22T20:08:00.000-08:00

I went to high school with a guy from South Africa. This was the late 80s and the world was different. Apartheid was still the official policy in South Africa and Nelson Mandela was in prison. I always find it fascinating talking to people from South Africa who lived there during this time. One such person is Tanya Hernandez of Elk Grove.

Tanya was born in Durban, South Africa, the third largest city in South Africa. She attended a modeling school by Bonita Boyle. Graduating high school at 16, Tanya opened a modeling school at 17 in Johannesburg. Tanya realized that her younger brother was shy but he “had developed a new found confidence as he learned to pose and model on the catwalk. It was amazing to see the transformation in not only my sibling, but also in the many students in such a short space of time.” Tanya opened her school with 8 students and doubled the number of students in a short period of time.

In 1995, Tanya’s family packed up their home, left their jobs, and were on their way to the airport. Upon checking their passports, they realized that Tanya’s had a note that she could not leave the country because she was 18 and she needed a US Company to sponsor her or a college that would grant her a study visa. Tanya’s dad had been hired by a US company that had paid all of the expenses and arranged for their stay in the US. But with less than 2 hours until they left, Tanya was not able to leave. Her family ran to the immigration office. Then, fate intervened.

Tanya tells the next part of the story better than I can. “Condoleezza Rice was in South Africa at that time. She overheard my dad talking to the (immigration) officer, saw me in tears, came to the desk where we were, took my passport, went to the back, made a phone call, came back and handed me my passport with an approved stamp in it. The officer was being a typical jerk but for some reason she helped us. I believe it was God.”

Tanya made it to the US but was not allowed to work. She left her school, her job at a bank and her life to come to the US and have to start again in a new country. Tanya is not one to “sit around idly,” so she volunteered for five years for WEAVE (Women Escaping A Violent Environment). With her background, Tanya was asked to train women on how to dress for success. Tanya calls it “absolutely amazing and so rewarding” to watch these women transform their lives.

Tanya then obtained her degree in Fashion Merchandising from the California Academy of Fashion Merchandising and Design. Because of her visa status, she had one year to find a job. Tanya started working with stores, churches and non-profits as a fashion show coordinator helping with fundraising. She also started teaching modeling through the Cosumnes Community Services District.

Tanya got married in 2007. Then, she moved to Florida with her husband and in March, 2008 had her first child. She became ill with pneumonia and was taken to emergency. This may have saved Tanya’s life. She was examined and the doctors noticed moles on her back. Tanya went back to the doctor and a subsequent visit revealed that she had a rare form of cancer that was close to her blood stream.

Tanya says “Being a new mommy, and a newlywed and hearing news like this was devastating! I questioned God so much when I got the news and thought my life was over. I didn't know what was going to happen... I questioned God on my purpose on this earth, there was so much I didn't understand. It was heartbreaking and frightening all at the same time. I hugged my boy closely each and every day with hopes that I would someday see him grow up.”

After a few surgeries, the cancer was removed. Tanya could not walk on her foot for weeks at a time. But she survived and moved back to Elk Grove in December 2009. Tanya is a a certified fitness instructor whose certifications include Macumba® Fitness, AFAA Primary Group Fitness Exercise Instructor, Step Aerobics, Hi Lo Impact Aerobics, Pilates, Pre-Natal Fitness, Mat Science I, Mat Science II, FiTour Personal Training, Zumba®, Zumba® Gold, Jeannie Fit Hip Hop U and Masala Bhangra® Workout. WHEH! In fact, Tanya was hired by the WNBA to teach Zumba® Fitness for a week long health and fitness tour and then she had an opportunity to teach Zumba® to the Sacramento Kings Royal Court Dancers!

Tanya had her second child on October 16^th, 2011. She began teaching fitness classes once again just once a week at Deane Dance Studio in EG after taking time off to be with her baby. Now, Tanya says “For years people have asked me to make DVD's of my classes and the time has come where I am finally turning those requests into a reality. My program will have it's own clothing line, DVD's, instructor training programs, etc... It's a new journey and I'm excited about it!”

Tanya came to the US, by the skin of her teeth. She overcame visa issues, obtained her education, got married and survived cancer. Now she is living the American dream and is an inspiration!

For you, amigo

2012-01-19T20:58:00.000-08:00

I am writing this for a friend. To a friend. Friend? I think so. I have known him for 8 years. He has been a friend, a mentor, an ear to listen to me vent, rant, or whine. He has been there for me when to answer questions, provide advice and be an all around good guy. Yet, in 8 years, I have never shook his hand, never bought him a drink (although I did send him lawyers breath once - no, not mine, but the hot sauce), never shared a meal. And, despite this, I think he is a better friend than a lot of people I know. We have grown to know each other through phone calls, emails and inside jokes that sometimes get others annoyed.

And now, in his time need, I feel like I can't be there for him. His wife is dying. Cancer. It sucks. It sucks a lot. Its the worst thing I can think of. I know, Alzheimers robs you of memories. Parkinsons blows. Cancer though makes people WANT to die. Can you imagine wanting to die? I can't. I just know that it sucks like nothing else.

So, its his time of need. He is hurting. I can tell. I havent talked to him in a month. I know he has other things on his mind - more important things. I dont really have anything to talk about - just getting caught up. And he is dealing with his wife, her cancer, and cancer sucking the life out of her. What the fuck?

I want to go buy him a beer. I want to drive over there and buy him some dinner, shoot the shit, as they say, and just tell him it will be okay. It will be okay, amigo. I know it will be. It doesnt feel like it right now. But it will be. This part sucks. The next few days, weeks and months will suck. I know. I am sorry. I wish I could make it better.

Fuck, I practice law SOLELY to try to help people. That is my sole motivation. And now, when a friend needs help, all I can offer is "I am sorry." Its not enough. It cant be enough. It doesnt make it better. It doesnt heal the pain. It doesnt make the fucking cancer go away.

But, I guess it has to be enough. Because I can either say I am sorry and offer to be there for him when, if, he needs to talk or I can do nothing. Nothing just isnt an option. Never has been, never will be. I dont sit and do nothing for a friend in need.

So, friend, I am sorry. I know this hurts like nothing else. I cant imagine it. I can only let you know I am here for you if you need to talk, if you need a cold beer, I am here for you.

And, while I know you are not religious, maybe this will give you some peace, as I know it has me over the last 10 months:

May the Lord bless you and keep you.

May the Lord make his face to shine upon you,
and be gracious to you.

May the Lord lift up his countenance upon you,
and give you peace.

Lawyers Blow

2012-01-17T20:19:00.000-08:00

I was going to write something serious and heartfelt. Then I read something that needed me to rip it. So here goes.

Lawyers blow. And that is being nice. Yes, I can say that. I am one. Just so we are clear, this is one of my first posts: http://randomrants08.blogspot.com/2009/03/larry-bodine-is-marketing-goon.html Read it. Laugh. Its still freaking funny.

What the hell is wrong with lawyers? I blog. They BLAWG. I flog someone. They FLAWG. I call them a douche bawg? Yes, that is a douche bag lawyer. What is a douche bag lawyer?

Lets start with any lawyer who insists on "telephoning" me instead of just picking up the phone and CALLING ME. Are you getting paid by the syllable? Seriously. There is no reason to use telephoning as a verb. Its a noun. Its a fucking telephone. If you have to use a 25 cent word, oh wait, that makes me seem like I am 68, there has been inflation. If you have to use a dollar word when a twenty five cent word will do, you are a douche bawg lawyer.

You are a douche bawg if you add an extra letter. I dont care if you were born north of the border. I dont care if you are the Queen's son. Its honor, not honour. Its humor, not humour. You do not have to add letters to sound intelligent. Do you want to know how to sound intelligent? Speak like you are an actual, live, human being. Speak like you know how to carry on a conversation with the guy next door, around the corner or standing on the street corner. That piece of paper in that ridiculously expensive frame doesn't mean you are too good to talk to someone. Adding extra letters when you are writing, or using that lame fake accent, just makes you sound like an idiot. Or, in my world, you are a douche bawg.

If you think you write a blawg and not a blog, you are a douche bawg. Its a blog. I dont know what it stands for, but its not a blawg. You are not special. Go tell Jane Smith you write a blawg. Seriously, send her an email and watch her laugh so hard she pees her pants. You sound pretentious. No wait, you sound worse than pretentious. You sound like my wills and trusts professor who was calling on poor Jesus and kept pronouncing it "Jee-zuhs." His name was not Jesus, and you do not write a blawg. Freaking idiots.

You might be a douce bawg, if you think attorney marketing is the end of the world. Its not. People need to know about us. And if we cant tell them we exist, then they may never know their options. Sorry. You arent going to convince me the world is a worse place because consumers can find out they have options. You are going to convince me that you are an idiot if you think marketing is bad. So let me get this right: cigarette manufacturers could advertise for year, alcohol manufacturers can advertise, but I can't tell people what services I offer? Seriously, did you smoke too much Mary Jane last night? Or are you just that full of yourself, douche bawg?

You are also a douche bawg, if you think I have to work at a big law firm to be a good attorney. I dont care if you have 80 attorneys, 800 attorneys or are .8 of an attorney. What matters is how you treat your clients, how you treat your fellow attorneys and what kind of human being you are. If the first thing you tell someone is "I am an attorney" you are also a douche bawg. It is not a reflection of who you are, but it is what you do. And if what you do is so important that you need to work at a big firm to think you are cool, then great. But you are a douche bawg.

Fuck, I am so tired of attorneys who think they are so freaking cool. Its a job. Its a job you may get paid well to do. But you still put on your pants one leg at a time. You still drink and eat and shit and everything else the rest of civilization does. Dont think you are so special that the world should bend down and kiss your oversized, stinky feet. You are not that special. You are not that cool. And I am so tired of you thinking you are. Its my job from 8 to 5. Its what I do. I like helping people. But stop thinking you are sooo special. Oh, and Mr. I just graduated from law school, no you do not have offices in 4 states and no you are not nationally known. You are some piece of crap who thinks its fine to not grant extensions to other attorneys, not show professional courtesy and not understand when I am done kicking your scrawny ass, that you are still worthless until you realize that this has no bearing on how the world sees you.

Am I clear? Of course, after writing this, I realize that none of the douche bawgs will actually read this. Damnit.

What the hell is wrong with these people? Blawg? Flawg? How abouy douche bawg? Yes, that is a douche bag lawyer who thinks

Being a father

2012-01-13T20:53:00.000-08:00

So tonight was an interesting night. We did some cleaning up of the house. It made me think and that is always a bad thing.

I found a tin that Tyler made. He was probably 4 when he made it. That big smile of his and him sitting on his Sit-N-Spin and spinning and spinning and spinning and spinning until I was dizzy watching him. Neither one of us could throw it away. He probably doesnt remember making it. I sure as heck dont remember him making it.

But there was no way we could get rid of it. Its Tyler and right now we hold on to everything Tyler we can. I guess that is what you do when you can't physically hold on to him. I guess this is the next best thing. Kind of. I dont really know. It sucks.

Then I think back to my childhood. I dont know what my dad held onto. Probably nothing. He was gone more than he was home for the first 14 years of my life. By the time he was home, he needed more help than he had ever needed. Yes, he taught me soccer. He passed that love to me. But where was he when I needed him? Where was he when we had family life or whatever nonsense they called it back then? I never got that talk from him because he wasnt there.

Now, I am a dad. Kyle is 10 and its time for that talk. I dont have that experience to look back to and he isnt here now for me to ask him "Hey dad, how would you handle this?" But I dont get that. So I am stuck having to make crap up. I dont know what to say. I guess its not the biggest problem in the world.

I look at my kids and I realize choices I have made as a father are a direct result of my dad. I yell too much. I know. But he yelled. I have vivid memories of that. I also have vivid memories of the belt and of my mom saying "Wait until your father gets home." That is when you knew you went too far. Of course, sometimes that wasnt for a week or two so things had time to settle down. Sometimes mom called dad on his trip to tell him. First time I dropped fuck at home she called him. That was a bad call. And I know I shouldnt yell, but I get upset and I channel my dad. Bad? I dont know. It is what it is.

But I also see that I have made other choices. He made the choices he made based on his childhood. He grew up and things were tight. He put himself through school. He then took jobs that allowed him to provide for his family the way he thought he should. And if that meant he was around as much, then so be it. It was the right choice for him.

I have consciously made choices to be home for my kids. I want to be there everyday to talk to them about school or life or chores or whatever. I want to be involved so I pick them up at school. I am fortunate that I have the flexibility to do that. But I know I worked hard to get to the point where I could have that flexibility.

So here I am. 38 years old. A father of 4, even though sometimes it feels like 3. Of course, some days it feels like 14. I laugh, I cry, I try, I fail, I succeed. I just wish I felt like those successes were more often than those failures. I wish I could be more like my dad, but less like my dad.

I know he let me try things that I thought I might like. I play a mean game of street hockey because of it. So, I try to let my kids do things like Boy Scouts or dancing or ice skating that I don't do or didn't do so that they can have those experiences. I think its part of my job as a dad.

I just wish he was here to help me figure this out. There is no manual. There can't be a manual. You cant possibly know whats in store for you the first time you hear that you are going to be a father. You cant know the second time, the third time or the fourth time either. Hell, I was pretty sure I would only have two kids. Then I was really sure I would have 3 kids. Four kids? Thats just idiotic.

But I wouldnt change it for the world. Each kid is different. Each kid is special. Each kid is unique. Each kid is a challenge. I just think sometimes being a dad is underrated. I think its underappreciated. And I think I wouldnt change it for the world. I just wish it was easier, that I had my dad to lean on during these hard times and that someone could tell me just once that these crappy decisions we have to make as a father are the right decisions no matter how much they hurt.

I became a father before I became a man. I know that. My hope is that my boys will learn from me and be better fathers than I am. My hope is that when they are 38, fathers, husbands, men, they will look back like I am tonight and realize that I made mistakes like my dad before me, that I loved them like my dad loved me, that I tried my best like my dad tried his best, and that they will love me like I love my dad.

Heros

2012-01-10T14:34:00.001-08:00

Here I sit in the afternoon with some work to do but I need to get something off my chest. So I blog. Is it weird? Probably.

Charles Barkley once said he didn't want to be nobody's role model. Or he didn't want to be your kid's role model. Enrique Iglesias can be your hero. (Yes, my musical taste runs that far.)

I don't want to be your role model, your hero or anything else. Really. I don't. I can't be. I don't want to be your knight in shining armor. I don't want to swoop in and save the day. I don't want you to think of me as your rescue hero or any other hero.

I am me. Flawed and all. And man am I flawed. I guess people say it in a way that they mean it to sound like they appreciate someone. You change someone's tire and they say "You're my hero."

Screw that. I am not a hero. I am some schmuck who went to college for way too long and learned a few things that I now use to support my family. I use that ridiculously expensive education plus my 38 years on earth plus the lessons I learned from my dad and I do the best I can. Sometimes, quite frankly, the best I can isn't good enough. I am glad I can make you feel better. I am glad I can resolve some problem for you. But how the hell does that help me? It doesnt help me resolve my issues. It doesnt act as some cosmic karma that resolves my issues.

Nope, my fucking issues are still there when I am done solving yours. Getting some piece of crap debt collector to stop harassing you is great. I am glad. But that doesn't make me a hero. It makes me a guy who happens to know the law better than the next guy. It makes me a guy who can write a letter and scare the crap out of people. It makes me a guy who could barely passing legal writing because I don't have a big enough vocabulary but can write a letter to normal people because they don't use twenty five cent words either. (Are they worth like a Susan B Anthony by now?)

So you are welcome for whatever you think I have done for you. I assure you its nothing special. I assure you I don't move mountains, I can't part the Red Sea and I can't even float in a pool of water. I assure you that if I didn't solve it, the next guy (or gal) would solve it, hell, maybe even faster and better.

I am not your hero. I dont want to be. I am just Jon. Thats all I want to be and if that isnt enough, then Im sorry.

Profile - David Casarez

2012-01-09T20:00:00.000-08:00

Here is my first profile of someone who is an inspiration. Its interesting how you meet people in life. I met David, or Staff Sergeant Casarez in the early summer of 2011. I was working on Soccer for the Cure and posted something on Twitter. One thing lead to another, or, more likely, one retweet led to another and David tweeted about my event. We exchanged tweets and emails and I learned part of his story.

So, here is David’s story, which as best as I can tell, is being told for the first time. In 1992, an 18 year old knew everything. I am sure most of us can relate to that – I know I can. So, unlike those of us who went to college to find ourselves, and found beer, girls or who knows what else (I found a roommate on probation from the State of Washington for Grand Theft Auto who decided to sell coke out of our dorm room and not the cola kind), David signed up for the US Army. He was assigned to the most deployed regular army unit in the world – the 10^th Mountain Division. Three years later, David had seen the world, learned to be responsible, was disciplined and could pay for college. So, he did what anyone would do, went to college and became a law enforcement officer.

Then, on a day when we all know where we were when the news came, David did what most of us didn’t. He enlisted in the Army again. Yep, on 9/11, when I was still in law school and working, when Pat Tillman felt a pull of patriotism, David did as well. Not only did David go back, he requested to join a battalion that would be deploying to battle. So while I was busy opening my law firm, while many of us were several years out from September 11 and moving on with life, David was patrolling the mountains of Afghanistan looking for guys who scare the crap out of most of us. He spent three more years in the infantry, into his mid 30s, before he switched to the medical field. David has done things and saw things that most of us want to pretend don’t exist.

Then life reared up its ugly head. You know the book “Why do bad things happen to good people?” Yeah, well, this is one of those stories. While serving our country and protecting our freedom, David started having minor headaches. He passed out one night and ended up in the ER. He was referred to an army doctor who was a few months from retiring. After ordering a ton of tests, one test showed a kidney problem. The blood test was connected to the x-ray. The x-ray was connected to the sonogram. The sonogram was connected to the CT scan. The CT scan was connected to – well, it showed two malignant cells on his right kidney. A few weeks later, David was having surgery to remove renal cells, part of his diaphragm and ¼ of his kidney.

Now we are five years later. David is healthy, more fit than most soldiers, runs 5K races and, of course, still plays soccer! David stays in the Army and is thankful for the care he received – “the best treatment in the world,” as he says. But he is also a self described sports nut who has started a sports blog. While harder than he thought it would be, David said “But like my fight against Cancer, I didn't allow myself to quit and stuck with it. I'm small potatoes compared to some bloggers, but I love it and find it relaxing.”

In addition to his blog, his service in the military, he is involved with the 24-Hour Walk-for-Cancer Survivors Marathon in Germany. Service members from all over the Heidelberg area signed up to walk a 5-10-15-20-or-25 miler in support of cancer survivors. David has coached soccer for over 15 years, and while asked to coach in select leagues, he sticks with the military's Child & Youth Services league – think YMCA in the military. While the skill level may not be the same, David stays with them because “ the way I see it, military kids go through a lot when their parents are in the service. Much of it we don't see, such as deployments, separation due to military commitments, change of schools every 2-3 years. It's hard on a kid to live the military life. That is why they have a special bond with each other.” This isn’t just some saying. David knows that his daughters have sacrificed as well, but they “stood strong all these years while I was jumping from assignment to assignment. Seeing the commitment the kids make for the parents, motivates me to give right back to them by coaching. I've been fortunate enough to play higher levels of soccer throughout the world, the least I can do is give my skills right back to the military kids and train them properly for the next level.”

David is an all around good guy. He is an example of the fine men and women in our military. And, despite serving his country, he went back when he felt the call. He went to the places we don’t want to go to keep his country safe. He stayed despite his cancer diagnosis and continues to give back through the 24 hour walk and coaching soccer for the military kids. David is an inspiration to me.

2012

2012-01-01T20:02:00.000-08:00

Okay, so I have spent some time the past few days reflecting. I think we all do. One year ends, another one starts. What have we learned from the past year? What do we have to look forward to in the next year? What do we "resolve" to do differently, better? What should we leave behind?

Mix in to that some feelings I have been having about legacy. What is my legacy? What should it be? Maybe 38 is too young to think about my legacy. Maybe its too late? I dont think I know yet. I was driving the other day when two songs came on. It just so happened they came on after I had talked to my wife about how it is usually easier to do the wrong thing than the right thing. She is right after all. Think about it. How much easier would it be to do the wrong thing then by trying to live your life doing the right thing?

So in that frame of mind, I heard "Good Life" by One Republic. Its a good song. Anyway, one line goes "Sometimes there's bullshit that don't work now." That pretty much sums up my 2011. But the song ends "What there is to complain about." And they are right. 2011 was full of bullshit. I put up with what felt like more than my fair share. But, despite the mess, the problems, the idiots, the people who think their shit doesn't stink, I feel like there is little to complain about. I am healthy - relatively. I have a family that is mostly healthy. I have a little girl who has me wrapped around her finger. I have three boys who, despite all of their issues, are good kids who are growing up in a time that I don't know we fully understand. I have a wife who loves me despite all of the nonsense I put her through. I have friends who have been supportive and understanding. I have a house, a job, and transportation. I have food. I know that puts me somewhere above the bottom 50% of people in socio-economic terms. I know I have friends with wives who are sick, jobs that are not guaranteed, and homes that they have lost.

So after that, Evanescence came on. I know people discuss the meanings of songs all the time. This song, to me, makes me think of my dad. There isn't a line I can point to, but a general sense that makes me think of the loss of my dad. I think its this "And I held your hand through all of these years." For years, I would hold my dad's hand to steady him, to help him stand up, to walk him through some place. Now, I can't hold his hand anymore. I can't steady him, I can't help him stand up. I don't have that option. And, it sucks. It makes me sad. It makes me cry.

Where does that leave me? Whats my legacy? What was my parents legacy? Did they leave one? Is it me? Is it my brother? I don't know. I think my dad would tell you that his legacy was raising three kids who turned out to be decent people. Even if I don't talk to my brother, even if we don't see eye to eye, I think my dad would tell you he is a decent person. But I don't really know. We never got a chance to talk about it.

I think my mom would tell you that her legacy was my brother. Yep, I am pretty sure of it. He had the option of moving himself to San Diego when she got sick. I didn't. He had the ability to take her to her doctor's appointments. From my mom's perspective, he was the good son. Hell, not just from her perspective. Her sister, her sister's husband, my dad's brother and his wife, my brother, my cousins, the Rabbi who presided over the funeral. Hell, some of her friends probably think that. I know they do. Of course, none of those people know that while she was sick and needed her strength to fight cancer (by the way, Dear Cancer, still fuck you, Sincerely, me), I protected her from things that would have distracted her. I didn't tell her the details of my family's life that would have made things more difficult for her. I didn't tell her all of the bullshit I had going on. Why? Because that was the decision I made. And whether right or wrong, whether anyone agrees with me or not, that was my decision. And I don't regret it at all. Not one single bit. So, she may be right and her legacy may be my brother. But I know she would have done the same thing in my position.

But what is their legacy? My dad did a lot of good in his professional life. But at what price? It probably contributed to his Parkinsons - or maybe its easier for me to think that way then think of the alternative. It sure made it so he took more medication. He traveled and missed events, maybe not the major ones, but lots of other life events. He provided financially for his family. But I don't think that is it. My mom, who didn't work most of my life, provided a stable home. She took care of the 3 of us.

I just don't know the answer. I do know that all of this thinking has left me wondering what my legacy would be. If I died tomorrow, would anyone remember me for anything beyond my family and friends? And what would they think of me? Good dad? Good husband? Loudmouth who talked more than most people? I don't know. I have never asked and don't plan on it. (And no, don't post a comment telling me what you think. I don't really want to know that badly.)

So, I want to leave a legacy. I want something to leave behind that one day someone will say "He left the world just a little bit better than it was when he found it." I think I know what it is too.

Ever read those feel good articles in Sports Illustrated or Time or some other magazine? You know, once a year or twice a year they will write a story about some kid who avoided gangs while playing football or a girl who inspired her teammates before dying. Its always a feel good piece, a tear jerker. We all like those stories, but do we hear enough about them? Probably not.

So, my goal for 2012, is a 64 feel good stories about real people. Stories you don't hear anywhere else. Stories that aren't being told by NBC or ABC or Time or Sports Illustrated or your local newspaper. 64? How did I come up with that? One story a week for 52 weeks plus a longer one per month for 12 months. That's right. 64 stories. I need your help. Email me or post a comment and tell me about someone whose story should be told. Who has inspired you or made a difference? Who has overcome an obstacle, not cutting off an arm to live while rock climbing, but some other obstacle? What stories do you want to hear? That will be my legacy.

Some thoughts on money

2011-12-29T20:33:00.000-08:00

I don't care too much for money, money can't buy me love. (Not my original, thanks to the Beatles. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SMwZsFKIXa8) Or should we compare to The Baby's "Money" which goes "The best things in life are free/But you can keep 'em for the birds and bees." (Like two people will know this song so here is the Youtube for this excellent song! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YTirjVo8A0I)

So two things today really irked me about money and I figured this is as good a forum as anything else. Why? Because I can. Why else? Its my blog. Why else? Do I need another reason? No.

First, the California Assembly gave raises to their staffers - again. I know. These folks haven't received raises in a while, haven't had a cost of living adjustment, blah, blah, blah. Don't even give me this nonsense. Let me guess: we need to keep these talented people as well. Right?

Newsflash to the fine folks running the California Assembly: most Californians have not had a raise in years either. It sucks. Its crappy. Its called a recession. Actually, its probably a double dip recession, if not a depression. Do you know what happens in a recession? People lose jobs, pay is cut, benefits are cut. Yep, sucks. Do you know how we get out of a recession? We have to spend our way out of it - not giving our employees raises because they are such good people, but getting consumers to spend money at businesses. That gets business to invest the money and voila, recession starts to turn into gains. Then the economy improves.

Look, its been hard for these people who work for the Assembly. I mean, they must be out there every day using their hands, worrying about where the next paycheck is coming from, wondering how they are going to get health insurance for their families. Oh wait. Sorry. I got those people confused with working Americans. You want it hard? I have clients who live paycheck to paycheck and pay their bills with money orders because they don't want to bounce a check and have so little in their checking account that bouncing a check is possible. I talked to a guy this week who is a supervisor for a construction company and has had to lay off 40% of its employees. Unemployment is over 10% and that doesn't count the people who have just given up looking for a job.

People are out there every day working hard and wondering if their job will still be there in a week. The people who work for the Assembly know that they have a job and its not going anywhere. How do they know this? Because the one thing you can count on - politicians will put themselves last on the list of people who have to take pay cuts, lay off employees or do anything else that will not benefit them. Sad, but true. So these folks don't have the same worries as the rest of us. (Oh, and I don't really count me in there - I am fortunate enough to have a job where I can sit and write this nonsense during the day.)

Memo to the California Assembly: do the right thing and rescind the raises and show the rest of us that you actually care about California and not just your employees. Since these folks won't do anything, let me go to my next money grubbers.

Charities........what? Charities? How can that be? These folks ask for money. Nothing wrong with that, especially if the money is going to a legitimate cause. Breast cancer research or ending MS or helping the homeless. All great causes. I don't have a problem with any of them. So what is my problem?

Have you ever sent these people money? They send you a thank you letter back THAT ASKS FOR MORE MONEY. Yes. Thank you for your generous donation, now send us more money. WTF? How exactly is that supposed to make me feel? I just gave you money. I donated. I did my part, however small it may be. How about you just thank me and leave it at that?

Dear Michael, Thank you so much for the soccer ball for my birthday. I am going to put it up in my office with my other memorabilia. Now, please send me another one. Your friend, Jon

Could you imagine if someone actually sent a thank you card that said that? No. Miss Manners would go into cardiac arrest. Even I would be bugged by it. Yet, more and more charities are doing this and we aren't pissed off? Well, I for one am. Next time I send money to a charity and they ask for more money, I am writing them off and won't give them anything else. Done. Finished. No mas.

By the way, Hala Moddelmog, take a 10% pay cut and Susan G Komen for the Cure will have an extra $50,000 and won't need to ask me for more money. Simple!

MLS in Elk Grove? I think not

2011-12-14T12:58:00.000-08:00

I had something real to rant about. I did. Honest. Then I sat down for lunch with my wife. PB&J on wheat bread with a pro-biotic chaser. Not bad. The wife makes the best PB&J sandwiches. So I break out my newspaper and what do I see - a story about my little town. I read said story. Said story is dumb. So here goes my rant.

So the story is this, in a nutshell. Fabian Nunez and some attorney are heading a group that wants to bring a Major League Soccer team to Elk Grove. The City Council is going to vote tonight and exclusive negotiating rights with this group. If you don't know Fabian Nunez, google him. If you don't know Major League Soccer, please stop reading this. Seriously. If you are reading this and you don't know MLS, you really shouldn't read anything I write. Really. I promise.

So where to start? Should we start with Fabian Nunez? Dude was Speaker of the State Assembly. Dude's son killed a guy. Yes, we all make mistakes. I have made plenty. Just ask my wife. But, murder, manslaughter or anything close to it? Not on my list of sins. But, I get it, people screw up.

Dad shouldn't be held responsible for the mistakes of the kid. I get it. I would hope not to be judged by what my kids do. But Fabian, and I can call him Fabian because I have seen him try to play soccer, used his influence to get his son's sentence commuted. That means shortened. Did it in a sneaky way that has generated two lawsuits. I'm sorry. I don't mind if you run out and use your money to hire the best attorney you can find. I would even refer you to a few of them. I don't mind if you hire the experts and pay the money to try to get your son found not guilty. That is our system. Right or wrong, if you have money and you can afford to do it, then you should hire the best person to represent you or your family. Good. Fine. But to use your political influence AFTER THE FACT to try to get your son a reduced sentence is wrong. Flat out wrong.

Look, we all can bust our butts and make money. I don't mind it. We can debate if Nunez ever busted his butt working, ever worked hard for the people of the State of California, ever did anything to earn money. We can debate how much money he has. But if you work hard or are Mark Zuckerberg and steal, er, borrow an idea, you can make money. That is fair game. But we all don't have political connections. We aren't all on a first name basis with the cheating former Governor. We all don't have his cell phone number and we can't get it. Thats playing dirty pool. Sorry. And it sits wrong with 99% of the country.

So, does the City of Elk Grove want to do business with this guy? Lets see we enter into an agreement and he doesnt like something, does he call Jerry Brown to get the new Governor's influence to change the rules? Does he ask the Senate President, who is a good guy even if I disagree with some of his politics, for help in dealing with the City? How on earth can you trust him? Let me guess - because he is a politician. No offense to any politician reading this, but I trust politicians as far as I can throw them, and unless they are on a TLC show called "Little Politician" I can't throw them that far.

But beyond that, MLS in Elk Grove? Really? Major League Soccer? Okay, a few basic points. First, Sacramento could not support the Sacramento Knights, a minor league indoor soccer team. Stockton, our neighbor to the south, could not support the Stockton Cougars, another minor league indoor soccer team. We can barely keep the freaking Kings in Sacramento (although one of their idiot play by play guys is the reason I won't support them). We have lost 2, or is it 3, pro football teams. Heck, San Jose lost the Earthquakes several years ago. Yet, somehow, Elk Grove is going to support professional soccer.

Elk Grove has a mall that hasn't been finished. Elk Grove has a ridiculous number of foreclosures. Elk Grove has unemployment around 10%. Elk Grove schools are struggling. Yet, these people are going to support a professional sports team?

Oh wait, I know, no public money will be used. Sure, and cows will fly over the stadium dropping ice cream to the fans. Chocolate or cookies and cream? Every sports stadium uses some public money.

Oh, I know, things are different here. Really? We can't get our freaking youth soccer leagues to play nicely in this town. I am the biggest soccer fan you will find. Wanna bet? Gladly. Pele autograph jersey in my office - I WIN! End of discussion. But I couldn't get this town to support a fundraiser for breast cancer. Of course, idiot Jon is now going to try a fundraiser for Autism Speaks. Apparently, I don't learn. Literally, I got the mayor out at my game. And that's it. The city? Very little support other than some great small businesses. The local soccer community? No support. At all. Coaches telling players not to come because they might get hurt. Yeah, they might get hurt crossing the freaking street too.

Look, MLS is a great thing. The quality is improving. We have some big names playing. But they can't support MLS in some big cities. What makes anyone think we can support it here? Seriously. Lets politely tell Nunez to take his political influence and shove it. We don't need MLS in Elk Grove. The list of things we need more is staggeringly long. Homes. Jobs. School funding. Support for local businesses. We don't need some washed up politician (who, by the way, would get schooled on the pitch by my 10 year old) and his cronies coming to our town to ruin it. This is a travesty and we should put an end to it now.

Good versus great

2011-11-28T20:23:00.000-08:00

I was 16. My dad asked me to drive him to a business dinner. Sure, I said. Okay, fine, I was really like "This is ridiculous. You want me to drive you to dinner and sit there." He offered me food. Good food. And oysters - on the half shell. Who can say no to that? Dinner in La Jolla with all the oysters I could eat for driving him 25 minutes each way. Deal.

I took him there. It was a group of orthodontists. These guys were the best in the country, or so I was told. One was my orthodontist. He fixed my teeth and got to use my mouth in his book. Yep, I have a famous mouth that is in a book about freaking orthodontics.

So I was listening to these guys talk and they all seemed nice enough. They were from all over the country and the dinner conversation blew - big time. But on the way home, I said to my dad "So, what makes the difference between a good orthodontist and these guys?" My dad thought about it for a minute and then said "Lets say a patient comes in at 4:45 and has a problem. The orthodontist has a dinner with his wife at 6. He can do a quick fix and make it to dinner or he can do the right fix, which will take longer, and be late for dinner. The good orthodontist does the quick fix. The great one does the right fix and is late for dinner." Hey, that's pretty simple, I thought. There isn't much difference between good and great.

My dad was probably right. He usually was. Still the smartest guy I ever knew. But, lately, I have learned there is more to it. The story applies to any profession - the plumber who can cap a pipe and fix it later or replace the pipe; the doctor who can draw blood for a blood test or send the patient to the lab; the lawyer who can file the motion and be late or put it off for another day; it goes on and on.

But there is more. What happens when the great orthodontist is faced with a patient who needs a simple fix for $50 or but could have a more complicated fix that will cost $950 and the orthodontist needs to pay the mortgage? Does he do the right fix for $50 or does he make it more complicated to charge more money? What would you do?

It is simple to sit here in theoretical terms and say "I would do the simple fix." But would you? What if the extra $900 was the difference between food on the table for your family or going to the food closet? Sit and think and you will find its harder than it looks.

So, there I sat last week. The mortgage is paid. There is food on the table. But I received a call from someone who might have needed an attorney. We talked. He really wanted to hire me. He thought he needed an attorney. I talked him out of it. Would the money have helped? Absolutely. Would it have been beneficial to my family? Yep. Would I take it? No.

I am not saying I am great. Hell, I am not sure I am good at this most of the time. But I had a choice to make. I made the choice that would let me sleep at night and know I did the right thing. I think my dad would have been proud of me. I hope he would be. It was the right decision. I think I got some strength from knowing I could have taken the money, but didn't. I did the right thing. That's enough for me.

Today

2011-11-17T11:38:00.000-08:00

Fuck me. Not literally. Well, unless you are Diane Lane. In which case, feel free. (I am joking.) I don't fucking understand people. I just don't. I am sitting here typing this with a heavy heart and tears in my eyes. Yep, I admit it. I am crying again.

What the fuck is wrong with people? They take a look at one small instance of someone's life and judge them. Suddenly, from 2 hours of meeting with me, you know who I am? Bullshit. You dont know the first thing about me. Why? Because you didn't want to know me. You had your pea-brain mind made up about me before we first met. You were so smug, so smart. You knew everything.

Newsflash: you never know everything and there is always someone smarter than you. Yep. We all have to learn that lesson. I learned it when I thought I was smarter than my dad. I really did. Dude had a PhD in pharmaceutical chemistry and I was so sure I was smarter than him. (It turned out he was flawed though, he couldn't tutor me in high school chemistry where I got a D. Yep, I got a D in high school chemistry with a father who was a research chemist for the first 7 or 8 years of his working life and who had a Ph fucking D.) Turns out, I was wrong. I was so sure I was right. I knew everything. I was 15 years old. Turns out 15 year olds are idiots - a lesson I learned again last night.

So now someone thinks that they are so smart, that they know who I am. I know who I am. I am a father, a husband, a man (as of this week), a son even if my parents arent here anymore, a brother to a sister who has died and a brother who doesnt talk to me, and I am me. I am a good person. Fuck you if you don't believe me. You don't matter to me. I dont fucking care what you think. I did. I admit it. I spent most of the last 2 years caring what you think. A lot of good that did me.

I hurt because I care. I fucking care too much some times. I care about my friends. I care about my family. I care about my clients. That is the death knell of an attorney. We aren't supposed to care. Well, guess what, I do. I get personally invested in their cases. Its why I can't take cases that I don't believe in. Hell, I care about the homeless guy who was sitting outside of Starbucks last week on a cold evening. I bought him a cup of coffee. Its just simply the right thing to do.

So you think of me as the devil. You find me evil. Fine. You don't know who I am. You don't care to know who I am. And quite frankly, you don't deserve to know who I am. I have made mistakes in life. Let me just be perfectly clear about this: I AM SORRY. If I have hurt you, I am sorry. If I have offended you, I am sorry. If I have done something that bothers you, I am sorry. I don't think I make the same mistakes twice though, which means I learn from them.

But those mistakes don't define me. Those mistakes shape me and my successes in life define me. I shouldn't be sitting here today. Not literally. I shouldn't be sitting here as a college graduate or a law school graduate. I got kicked out of the 7th grade. Yep. I made it through high school - barely. My guidance counselor told me not to bother applying. I was on the speech team. Some kid from New Jersey with a funny accent who wasn't outgoing and couldn't talk for 2 minutes. I was told I couldn't make it through law school at night. Hell, I was told I couldnt earn my CPCU. Maybe those people were right. But I persevered. (I saw myself in my youngest son on Saturday when he kept falling down ice skating and kept getting up. The kid was going to skate.)

I am not a failure because of my mistakes. I am not an idiot, a moron, a bad person, the devil, evil incarnate or anything else. I am a father. And while I screw up, I try. I am a husband, and while I know I screw up as a husband, I try. Look, I didn't have the world's greatest role model. (You think that doesn't hurt to say?) But he tried like his dad before him. My dad wasn't around a lot. I learned from him. So I screw up, but I try. I try hard. No man in my family has ever claimed to be perfect at parenting or being a husband. Hell, I wasnt even a great son, and that should be pretty easy.

But I am true to myself. I know what I stand for. I believe in all of those things that we think are idiotic. I believe in our system of justice. I sure as hell know today that our justice system works better than other systems. I believe in people. I think people are generally good. I believe that if we all did one good thing a week, the world would be a better place.

So, fuck me right now because I am feeling sorry for myself. This too will end. And probably before another hour passes. I do know that I am a generally good person who stands up for what he believes him. I know that I generally put other people first, whether I should or not, I don't know. I know that I care, that I love, that I try. So, get to know me before you make bold pronouncements of who I am. And then if you still dont like me, fuck you.

Choices in Life

2011-11-14T10:44:00.000-08:00

Sometimes in life we have to make choices that suck. We come to the proverbial fork in the road and we have to choose. I know this better than most since I studied economics in college. Its basically the study of decision making. Its just that sometimes what you want to do and what you need to do are two different things.

Every day, we make tons of decisions. Do I talk to person A or do I let their call go to voice mail? Do I respond to the all caps, yelling email or do I hit the delete button? Do I yell at the asshole on the other end of the phone or do I let them continue yelling?

Then there are more important choices. Do you go visit a loved one in the hospital? (YES! Trust me.) Do you protect your kid from all of the evils in the world or let them learn that there are bad people or people who do bad things?

I am at that fork in the road. Its tough. I sit here today sad. Not sad for making the decision I am going to make. I know I have to. Sad because of the circumstances that have put me in this position.

I am a fighter by nature. I want to prove I am right at all costs. I want to kick the crap out of people, not literally, but figuratively. My high school guidance counselor told me I wouldn't get accepted to college. I did. I graduated in 4 years. Fuck her. My first boss out of college told me I shouldn't bother trying to earn my CPCU designation. 10 tests, 3 years later (I had to meet the minimum years of working requirement) I flew to San Diego to attend the ceremony. Thanks for giving me the motivation to prove you are an idiot.

My first practice test in law school I failed. Yep, I failed. I didn't have a clue as to what I was doing. I made crap up. Literally. Turns out that wasn't such a good way to go. 4 years of working, kids, and law school later I managed to graduate. Here I sit a month and 5 days from my 8 year anniversary of running my own firm. I guess I did know a thing or two.

But I also love. I care. I know there is hurt in the world. I can't fix it. I tried. Trust me, I have tried. I failed that. My soccer event? We raised over $6,000 and all I got from Susan G Komen was a thank you note WITH A REQUEST FOR MORE MONEY. I guess I failed in making the world a little better by our small donation to cure breast cancer, which, by the way, should go fuck off. I have tried to use the law to help the little guy, not literally as on TLC, but figuratively. I thought I could make a difference. Turns out, there is only so much you can do.

I have 4 kids. My 3 boys and my baby girl. I have a wife. That's it. That's my family now. I tried to wish my brother a happy birthday and he ignored me. Fine. I promised my mom before she died that I would make an effort. I will keep trying to make an effort. Its tilting at windmills, I think, but I promised my mom I would do it so I will keep doing it. Color me a fucking idiot.

So I now look at things differently. I have to do what is best for the 5 people who count on me, not necessarily for me. I want to stay and fight. I want to prove a point. I want to stand up and say "Fuck you. I am not the devil incarnate." But I can't and I won't. How can I when I know my oldest son needs someone to stand up for him and I have to be here to do that? He doesn't even know that he needs me to do that for him. But if not me (and my wife), then who? How can I when mini-me needs direction? He thinks he knows everything at 10. I thought I knew everything at 10. My dad was there to remind me I didn't. How can I when my youngest son looks up to me more than I knew until yesterday? He is my father, who he was named after, in so many ways. He needs me to pass on the wisdom from my dad to him so he can pass it on. How can I when my miracle baby always has a hug and a smile? Every single frickin day. She wakes up and says "Daddy." She is my angel. I don't know how she came to be, but I know she needs daddy. How can I when my wife needs me to deal with 4 kids, two of whom are challenging to say the least? We work together a team. We aren't always perfect. We aren't even always great. We have our rough patches. But we seem to always pull through when no one expects us to. We have our support system and those people are there for us on days like today when life blows.

So you win. I will make the hard decision and do what needs to be done. Not what I want to do, but what I HAVE to do. What my family needs me to do. You know, I think today, when I do this, I am becoming a man. It wasn't when I turned 13 or 18 or 21. It sure as hell wasn't sex. It wasn't when I moved out, got married, or even had kids. It wasn't when I graduated from college. It wasn't when I got a job or a 2nd job or a 3rd job or even when I went to work for myself. No, I feel my dad looking down on me today and saying "Good job, son. (He always called me son.) Today, you did what a man does. Instead of doing what you want to do, you did what you had to do for your family. Today you are a man."

So, dear fuckers, you win this time. I am going to do it. But I promise you, this isn't the end. My friends judge me not on what you say about me, but on what they see in me. My family loves me not for your contorted, messed up views of me, but for who I am. Anyone who thinks that what you say is more important than my actions doesn't need to be in my life. So judge away. Make your noble pronouncements. I hope you feel better about your lowly life. Because today I became a man and you became stepping stone for me to be a better person. I won't ever forget this day and I won't ever be the same. I will now be a better person. So thank you for that. And I will see you next time - on my terms.

WTF is wrong with the world

2011-11-09T20:05:00.000-08:00

What the hell is going on these days? Seriously, is Mercury in retrograde. Is Venus aligned with the Planet Formerly Known as Pluto? Er, the rock mass formerly known as a planet known as Pluto? Are the earth's bamboo trees turned backwards to bring bad luck?

Smokin' Joe Frazier dies. Joe Paterno is forced out at Penn State. These things happen. We know that. Life is a cycle. We are born, we live, we fuck up, we learn from our fuck ups, we make new fuck ups, we learn from those fuck ups, then we die. Its the life cycle. Frazier was at the end of it. Paterno was nearing the end but had a fuck up. A major one. Gigantic. I hope he learned from it. I hope we all learned from this.

I don't get the world. I know this cycle happens. But I see bitterness. I hear it on the radio. I can't turn on anything and listen to it with my kids in the car. Celebrity divorces. Kids being molested. Adults standing by and doing nothing. Greece failing. Italy close behind. Occupy Everything.

(Okay, I get Occupy Wall Street. I get Occupy San Francisco or Phoenix or San Diego or any other big city. But Occupy Elk Grove is idiotic. Occupy Yreka? I can't even pick out Yreka on a map - and neither can you. And its not funny to put Occupy in front of any word. Occupy Cold Stone Creamery? You just sound like a moron. Occupy The Internet? Really? How about you just occupy your own little space on the planet and try to make that place a better place.)

I am confused. I dont have the answers. I did read a proverb once that said something like dont just teach your children yourself because they grow up in a different time. My dad used to say something like that. He would tell me that each generation has it harder than the next. My grandparents grew up with World War I and the Great Depression. My dad had World War II and the sixties. My generation: drugs, AIDS, war after war (er, conflict after conflict). My kids grow up hearing about September 11, but not quite understanding. And who knows what else is out there.

So, I admit it. I dont know what is wrong with the world. I do know a few things.

Don't judge others until you have walked at least half a mile in their shoes. Its easy to sit down and look back at decisions people made and question them. But try being in the moment and making some of those decisions. Some work out. Some don't. But don't sit there after the fact and tell me that you think I made bad decisions because I am a bad person. That is simply wrong.

Life is hard. Yep, it is hard. Its hard at 2 when you need someone to change your diaper. Its hard at 7 when you have to go to school. Its hard at 13 when you go through puberty. Its hard at 18 when you start college. Its hard at 22 when you have to get a real job. Its hard at 30 and 35 and 40. And sometimes your life is harder than the person next to you. But, its probably also easier than the guy sleeping on the street, the guy who lost a leg fighting in a war, or the mom who lost a baby. We need to remember that.

Give back. I don't mean money. You can do that. You can give time. You can give of yourself. I am a big fan of The Untied Way. (Google it or go read my posts from December, 2010.) But you like baseball? Go find a group and teach them how to play. You know how to paint? Go teach someone. The world would be a better place if everyone gave back a few hours a week.

Love one another. I know its a cliche. Sorry. You don't like it? Don't read it. I dont write this for you anyway. If people would just stop being so negative, so mean, and get to know each other and show some fucking compassion, some understanding, everything would be better. I don't get all the hate and anger in the world. I know I am to play. I hate some debt collectors. But I am going to vow to work on that and be nicer to everyone who calls me, be it a client, another attorney or a debt collector or insurance adjuster. I am going to kill them with kindness.

You don't like me? Fine. Thats your fucking loss, you douche. Because while I am not perfect, I am not the devil either. I screw up. I make mistakes. But I am going to help you when you need it. I don't turn my back on friends. I don't leave people out there who are in need. Its sometimes bad for business. It sometimes gets me burned. But I am tired of the fucking nonsense and bullshit and judging that goes on. Cant we be nice to each other for a change?

Now, I am going to get some Giant Pandas, which might be my favorite animals of all time, and see if they can fix the bamboo. Then I am going to call Virgin Atlantic and ask them to send their fancy rocket ship into space to turn Mercury or do whatever you have to do so its not in retrograde. Then I am going to leave you with this: RIP Smokin Joe and lets all say a prayer for the kids who were hurt at Penn State and Joe Paterno, for whatever mistakes he made, he also helped hundreds, thousands of kids over the last 46 years.

On Regrets

2011-11-03T20:35:00.000-07:00

I was driving home today and saw a double rainbow. Ever see a double rainbow? Of course you have. You haven't seen the leprechaun at the end of the rainbow. He doesn't exist. But you have seen a double rainbow. Its not like its that uncommon.

Anyway, I was driving home and saw a double rainbow. Then I had the SiriusXM on the radio and heard some songs from my youth. Fine, I was listening to 80s on 8. Its all of my youth. Remember, it was 1st grade through high school for me. So it pretty much covered my childhood. I don't remember what song came on. Maybe it was when I was flipping back to "terrestrial radio" and heard an ad for Gordon Lightfoot. (If you don't know who he is, listen to his best song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jqMG3VR5PP4) Anyway, whatever it was, made me think of my childhood. Then I thought about what regrets I have had in the last almost 40 years.

I decided I have two regrets. Regret 1: I didn't get down to San Diego when my dad was in the hospital 9 years ago. He called me a few days after my birthday. He was in the hospital with a stomach obstruction. (Okay, so it wasn't quite the stomach, but you don't want the details.) The message was that he would be out in a day. It wasn't that big of a deal. Its worse. Not only did I not go down there, I didn't call back. And what happened? He died. You want a regret in life? Don't get back to see your parent before he/she dies when you know they are in the hospital. Sucks is an understatement. Fucking sucks is an understatement. The crappiest feeling in the world? Not even close to how this feels. So that is my biggest regret.

Regret 2: Not standing up for myself when I was younger. Nothing specific here. Just not standing up for myself when I had the chance. I could have on numerous occasions. I didn't. Ever. Those of you who know me now are probably surprised that I didn't speak up. But I didn't. Lack of self confidence? Being short enough to have my own TLC show? I don't know what it was. But I do know I didn't stand up for myself. Kind of sucks. A lot. I wish I had.

Of course, now I stand up for the little people, and no, not the people on that crappy TLC show. Those people make enough money for exploiting their lack of height that I don't really consider them the little people anymore. Anyone say 1%? I stand up for the people who have no one else who stands up for them. I think this is why. I finally figured it out. I stand up for people who are being taken advantage of by others. So I guess something good came out of regret 2, although I still wish I had done it.

As for regret 1, I learned from my mistake. When my mom called me and said she was dying, I flew down to San Diego. I wasn't going to make that same mistake twice. I couldn't live with myself if I did. So I guess something good came out of that as well. Although, its a crappy lesson to have to learn for oneself.

So there you go. Two regrets. Nothing more, nothing less. I did things I am not proud of. I have hurt people I love. I have hurt people I care about. I haven't always made the right decision. But I don't regret those things. I learned from them. I grew as a person. I am sorry if you are reading this and you are one of the people I hurt. I do apologize. But I do not have regrets. I am moving forward with these two regrets which will shape my life more than I could have known at the time.

Adults ruin things

2011-10-27T16:11:00.000-07:00

I am in a bad mood and short on time. And then I am sitting down at my computer and I come across this: http://rivals.yahoo.com/highschool/blog/prep_rally/post/Top-soccer-team-booted-from-playoffs-for-strange?urn=highschool-wp7674

What the fuck is wrong with adults? Seriously. So this team from NY, the Holland High Dutchwomen, went 15-2 this year in their season. Thats a pretty impressive record in high school, college, or at Under 10. However, they dont qualify to play in the NY state tournament. Why? I mean, 15-2 they should be seeded like 1st or 2nd, right? WRONG!

You see, some egghead in NY decided varsity teams cannot play more than 16 games in a season. An honest mistake was made by the Holland High Athletic Department. The girls played 17 games. So what is the proper punishment? A ban from the postseason. Seriously? Who comes up with these bullshit rules?

You know what the punishment is? Its supposed to fit the "crime." The crime was playing an extra game. Change their record to 14-2 and give one of their opponents an extra win. Easy. Drop their seed so they aren't seeded 1st and they are seeded 5th. Fine. Explain to them that a mistake was made and they still get to play BECAUSE THE GIRLS DID NOTHING WRONG.

I mean this is a joke. Who is in charge in NY? Oh, I know. Some guy who makes too much money at his job, has a ridiculous pension, and has never played organized sports a day in his life. How do I know this? Because anyone who has played organized sports knows that you want a chance to prove you are the best. Win, lose or draw, you want your shot. And, whoever wins the postseason "championship" wins it knowing that they didn't play Holland High.

How would that feel? Congratulations, East West High of NY. You won but one of the best teams in the state didn't get a chance to play in the tournament so we don't really know how good you are. You might be the best. But the girls from Holland might be better. We dont know and we will never know.

I dont care if you go to Holland High, or like me, you don't know where Holland High is located. I don't think I could pick it out on a map of NY with only two places listed and one of them being Manhattan. I know that as a competitor, an athlete, I want to play the best. I want to show I am the best. Isnt that what this should be about?

Sure, lets get on the Holland High administrators. Maybe they think 15+2 is 16 in that new math that they teach. Fine. 10 lashes with a wet noodle for them. Maybe they think that no one would catch on. Maybe they just plain old fucked up. I am fine with that and with some sort of "punishment" for the adults. But to sit here and punish these girls for something they didn't do is simply wrong. Plain and simple. The state of NY should get its act together and let these girls play.

By the way, go "like" their facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Justice-for-Holland-Girls-Varsity-Soccer/256170881101445#!/pages/Justice-for-Holland-Girls-Varsity-Soccer/256170881101445 And if you are up to it, email the jackasses who are ruining it for these girls.

Some thoughts - just thoughts

2011-10-20T13:32:00.000-07:00

I dont know sometimes. I am sitting here in my kitchen, sad, alone. Physically alone. I have friends and family and they are great. But sometimes I still feel alone. Part of that is me. I dont open up very well. I know. Its a character flaw. Part of it is life. I just dont want to talk about everything. Thats why I have this.

So I sit here sad. My stomach hurts. My head hurts. I probably have the flu. I know I have stress. Tums tastes like crap. I have music playing, but idiot Jon decides it would be good to listen to depressing music. Yep, thats me. When you are sad, of course you should listen to sad music. What fucking kind of idiot am I? I dont know. Maybe I wouldnt be sad if I listened to upbeat music. Hmmm.....I should try that some day. Not now. Some day.

I guess its insecurity. I wish it wasnt, but it is. It has to be. Am I going to fail? How badly am I going to fail? Was my fucking high school guidance counselor right? Should I have joined the Army and not gone to college? Was my dad right? Did it matter that I didnt know what I wanted to do with my life at 14, 15, 16? Hell, I didnt know what I wanted to do with my life at 24, 25, 26.

I dont know why I do what I do. I practice law because I like helping people. A friend of mine said I do God's work. I dont know about that. Maybe I do have a Napolean syndrome. Maybe growing up short made me want to show people I am some big tough guy. But Im not. I get that. Its not me. I can huff and puff with the best of them. Dont get me wrong. But I dont want to. I dont need to show someone that I have a bigger dick.

I am sensitive. I care. Its a fucking flaw in an attorney. I know that. Youre not supposed to care about your clients. Youre supposed to be a jackass who is cold and calculating and can show everyone what a smart guy you are. My problem: I aint that smart. Fuck, I was smart I wouldnt listen to the Commodores or Dan Fogelberg when I am not in a great mood. Well, maybe I am not a compete idiot since I did just change the music to Eminem. Yep, I admit it, I like white rappers. The guy may have other issues in life, but he can put together a song.

I guess we all have issues. I dont know what your issues are. I dont know that I need to know. Maybe its none of my business. I know I dont share my issues. 3, 4, 5 people maybe. Men in my family dont discuss our problems. I guess its my dad's fault or his dad's fault. Its just not what we do. We keep it inside.

So, I admit it, I keep things in me. And there are times they come out. Maybe its not the best time. I do know that I speak with passion when these things are inside me. I have been told by other attorneys it comes across as caring too much, being emotional. But is that so bad? Its me. Its how I am. I remember my closing argument in every case. Not word for word, but I do remember how they went. Every one of them had some emotion in it. Is that so bad?

Does this make me soft? Does it make me a wuss? I dont know. I leave that to other people. You only get one shot. Yes, I stole that from Eminem. It came on and it seemed to fit.

So, fine, lets say I am soft, or emotional or whatever? So what? Does that make me weak? Does it come across like you can bully me? I dont know. Maybe. I guess I have never cared enough about what other people think. I know who I am. I am the short bald guy who cares, thinks that there is actually good and evil in the world, and believes at the end of the day, if you do the right thing, you can fuck up quite a bit, but you still come out okay.

I also know I fight. A lot. I dont want to. I am more than happy to get along with everyone, resolve differences and move on with life. I like that. It makes my life so much easier. But fuck with me and try to bully me and I push back. I just do. Its how I am wired. Maybe its from growing up. Maybe its from not standing up for other people when I was growing up. Maybe its just that I really am a jackass. I dont know.

All I know is I am tired of people assuming that my caring, my emotion is a sign of weakness. I am sure its not. Its a sign of me. Its a sign that I am comfortable with who I am, what I am. I genuinely believe that people are good. I genuinely believe people should get a second chance. I genuinely believe that we all fuck up. You dont think you do? Really? I know my fuck ups can't be counted on one hand, two hands, or 100 hands. Hell, most of my first 16 years were screw ups. I accept that. Its my fault.

That doesnt make me a bad person. Someone I know recently admitted to making a mistake and didnt seem to be getting a second chance. Thats wrong. To err is human, right? Well, to err is human and to learn from your mistakes makes you a damn good person.

I guess I need some sort of end to this. Some sort of resolution. I dont think I have it. I think my resolution is this: I am going to go forward for the next 38 years (a man can hope, right?) and learn from the mistakes I have made over the last 38 years. I am not perfect. I am not a saint. I am a man, a flawed man. I will continue to make mistakes. I will continue to learn from them. I will NOT make the same mistake twice. I will continue to care. I will continue to believe people are good. I will continue to believe people should get a 2nd chance, a 3rd chance, even. I will continue to defend what I think is right, to do what I think is right, and to stick up for those who can't stand up for themselves. And if you continue to push me, to bully me, to try to take advantage of me, I will push back, hard. It may not always be the perfect response, but its how I am wired. Maybe that is the one mistake I wont learn from, but I dont see it as a mistake, I see it as me. While I will apologize when I am wrong, I will not apologize for being me.

Mental Illness and Idiots

2011-10-13T20:18:00.000-07:00

Dear Grant Napear:

You are an idiot. Not just any idiot, a fucking dumbass idiot. You talk without knowing anything. You seem to think you are smart, which makes you even dumber. I am pretty sure Patrick "We make a lot of money, but we spend a lot of money" Ewing is smarter than you.

So, on tonight's "show" and I use that word loosely, Dumbass was talking about Brandon Marshall. Now, Brandon Marshall plays in the National Football League. He plays wide receiver for the Miami Dolphins. To borrow from the basketball players, dude can ball. But, he has had some issues. Turns out, he is suffering from borderline personality disorder. What is that? Good question. NAMI, the National Alliance on Mental Illness, describes it here: http://www.nami.org/Template.cfm?Section=By_Illness&Template=/TaggedPage/TaggedPageDisplay.cfm&TPLID=54&ContentID=44780

So Brandon Marshall made a comment tonight. From ESPN:

"I'm not joking. I'm serious," Marshall told the South Florida Sun Sentinel. "They're going to fine me. It's probably going to be like a $50,000 fine. But that quarter and a half that I'm out there, I'm going to play like a monster.

"I might get in a fight with Bart Scott. (Antonio) Cromartie, we pretty much matured our relationship and grew a little bit. We used to fight in Denver and San Diego. If that happens, it happens, so we'll see."

So dude is saying he is going to get in a fight and is going to get kicked out of the game. Not the best thing to say. He is part of a team. It takes all 11 of them to win. That's kind of how team sports work. And if you want to win, you play as a team. I think we all know that. Brandon Marshall getting thrown out would not be a good thing for his team.

Now that you have the background, Douche-pear, er, Napear, gets on his "Grant's Rants," which is just a poor ripoff of Jim Rome's entire show, and goes on and on about how Marshall is an idiot and dumb. So I sent a text explaining Marshall has a mental illness and this idiot reads it and then says that if its true (and its a FUCKING FACT that anyone who knows about sports knows) then maybe Marshall shouldn't be playing in the NFL.

Whoaa Nellie............because someone has a mental illness they shouldn't be allowed to play professional sports? Let me guess, they shouldn't be lawyers or doctors or construction workers or anything else, right? Is this the 1930s? Should we put people with mental illness in rooms with padded walls?

Lets analyze this for a minute. Is having a mental illness different than being a minority of any other kind? Is it any different than being black, brown, yellow, red or blue? Is it different than being gay? Is it different than being a woman? Do we really think that these things are any different than having a mental illness? Do we think Brandon Marshall or anyone else with a mental illness has chosen to have it? These folks do not wake up one day and say "Gosh, I wish I was bipolar today." Or, "Hmmm......being OCD sounds like a good plan for this week." You are born with mental illness.

We don't limit what other people can do. If Brandon Marshall can play in the NFL with mental illness, then hats off to him. Dude should be a role model. You, too, can have a mental illness and still be at the pinnacle of your profession. There are 32 NFL teams. Each one has 5 receivers, maybe. So this guy is one of the best 150 in the WORLD at what he does. And he does it while fighting something that most of us can never understand. We are going to say he shouldnt do that? We are going to say he is dumb or an idiot? I am not going to.

I don't get it. I really dont. Why does some local, full of crap radio DJ, and he is a DJ, a glorified sit around and talk to yourself DJ, think its okay to call this guy names? I mean, if we are going to think snaps is how we want to deal with this, then I say we start with piece of crap local DJs. For example, Napear is so dumb that he can't figure out how to pronounce his own fucking name. It used to be "Na-pee-ar." Now it is "Na-peer." No, dude, you are so bad, you don't have any peers. Go back to Na-pee-ar. Actually, drop the Na and the ar and you are at the right spot. After all, you say some of the dumbest shit I have heard in my adult life and you get paid for it. I am still trying to figure out why.

You know, I used to look at people with mental illness and shake my head. Then, I became a father to a kid with mental illness. I actually had to grow up and stop pretending I was smarter than everyone else. It hit me - life is hard for some people. My kid says things that don't make sense. He says things that make me cringe sometimes. But he doesnt know better. His brain doesn't work like ours. I get that now. Its not because he is dumb, an idiot or needs someone to tell him what to say. Its because he is himself. I wouldnt trade him for the world. I sure as hell wouldnt trade him for some piece of shit New Yorker who still thinks its the 1950s and doesnt understand modern society - and that New Yorker's fake attitudes disappeared 10 years ago.

We can only hope that one day this loudmouth, no good, glorified DJ will grow up, get some stones, and learn about things before he starts running his horse mouth. Maybe he should grow up and stop being such a whining douche.

Or, as is more likely, he probably will continue his stupid show and make his dumb comments because his bosses don't have the balls to call him out and stand up for those people who can't stand up for themselves. Wusses!

A dragon lives forever

2011-10-06T14:42:00.000-07:00

but not so little boys. If you don't understand, go watch this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qu_rItLPTXc Even if you do understand, go watch that.

I know. I know. Its a song about drugs. Or so everyone says. Paper is rolling paper for joints. Dragon doesnt mean dragon - it means dragging on a joint. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Save it. I havent believed that in the last 30 years and you arent going to convince me now.

Ironic, isnt it? A song about the loss of innocence and here I stand trying to believe in the song's actual meaning. Maybe if I lose my belief in Puff and its meaning, then I lose something too. I dont know. Maybe, and there is strong evidence to support this, I am a fucking idiot. I am pretty sure you can find half a dozen people who agree with that. Or half a million.

I dont know. I hold these truths to be self evident: people are good; people try; people care; good beats evil; truth prevails over lies; good people make mistakes; people can change; people deserve a second chance, and sometimes a third.

I also know Everlast was right: I've seen a rich man beg/I've seen a good man sin/I've seen a tough man cry/I've seen a loser win/And a sad man grin/I heard an honest man lie/I've seen the good side of bad/And the down side of up/And everything between

Sometimes we think that life can only have heartbreak. It can have pain. It can suck. But I think we forget about Puff. Puff enjoyed life because he frolicked. When is the last time we frolicked? Thankfully, I frolicked last night with my baby. Fine, shes my toddler. She is always going to be my baby.

One day, for each of us, Jackie Paper has to grow up. But not now. At least, I hope not now.

More on Fathers and Sons

2011-09-25T20:04:00.000-07:00

(This is unedited and I held back on the language, but it involves death so there is some profanity. If that offends you, stop reading here.)

Today is 9 years since I got that phone call. Its one of those calls that you know is bad when the phone rings. I was 29. I didn't know what to do or how I was supposed to react. So I cried. A lot. I can't think of too many things that rank up there with losing one's father for a man. Losing mom......losing a spouse......losing a child. Those all suck. Losing a father sucks a lot.

I know I am not the first to lose a dad in my 20s. I know I won't be the last. I get it. There are people who have dad die when they are 5, 8, 10, 12, whatever. I am sure it sucks then too. I don't know. I can only speak of my experiences and what I have learned.

We dropped off the kids and flew to San Diego. I got there and had to help out my mom pick out a casket. Talk about creepy. Casket "shopping" is absurd. Who the hell likes that crap? We had a funeral the next day. Somehow, some way, I made it through the funeral. I guess its an honor to be a pall bearer.............but I don't know. It sucks. You don't really want to be a pall bearer because it means someone close has died. After all, has a stranger's family ever asked you to be a pall bearer? I doubt it.

After the funeral, we went back to my mom's house. I had to answer the phone when someone called. They asked for my dad. It hurt so much to have to say he had died. Its one of those things that you always remember. People came and were nice. They wanted to share stories. I wanted nothing to do with it. Then I had to listen to my aunt, my mom's sister, talk about how this was a blessing, how he wasn't suffering anymore.

Don't ever fucking say that to anyone. There is someone, somewhere who doesn't think its a blessing. Maybe you do. Maybe someone else does. I swear there is someone who doesn't think its a blessing. And if you do say that, the person who doesn't find it a blessing has my permission to kick the living crap out of you.

How the fuck was this a blessing for me? I was 29. I had just graduated from law school. I had two kids - who knew two more were on the way? Worse of all, I didn't return my dad's last call to me. Yep, that's me, the fuck up who didn't pick up the phone to call my dad back when he left me a message from the hospital. Why not? Why the hell would I? My whole life, my dad had Parkinson's. He was in the hospital for all kinds of weird things, including hurting his back sleeping on a bed. Seriously. This was some stomach blockage. He was supposed to be discharged. It wasn't a big deal. Then he had a heart attack - and gone. Just like that. No chance to talk to him, no chance to say goodbye. Nothing.

We had a little service, I guess, at the retirement home. People came and talked more, hugged, and drank. It was a celebration of a guy who made friends everywhere he went. I can't think of one person who didn't like my dad.

So I think about that a lot. And this year, its my year to make September better. So maybe the guilt should be gone. Maybe its time to say it: I fucked up. I can never get that time back. Its my biggest regret in life. I own it. I did it. No one else made me. In my list of fuck ups in my life, and I have some doozies, there is none bigger than this one. I should have picked up the damn phone, dialed his number and talked to him. It doesn't matter if I had nothing to say. It doesn't matter if he wanted to ask me about his computer, which he usually did, or his fantasy football team or the fucking weather, 70 and sunny in San Diego 300 days out of the year. None of that matters. I should have picked up the fucking piece of crap phone and called him. I didn't. Its my fault. I get it.

So what have I learned? I don't know. I was out on the soccer field today. The weather was nice. Cool, a bit of sun. Green grass. White lines. And I was thinking what the hell am I doing out here? I am 38 years old. I have one screwed up knee and one on the way. I am old. I am out of shape since I can't exercise with my bad knee. I am way over matched by these 20 somethings who come out there, are faster, bigger, stronger, and younger.

But, its my connection to my dad. And its all I have left. As long as I am on the field, playing the way he taught me to play, I have some connection. At some point, it will end. I know. I can't play forever. 10 years? 12 years? Maybe less, maybe a few more.

But today we were out there playing. Last 5. I was tired. I was sore. I didn't feel so good. And it didn't matter. For 9 years, I have picked up a piece of grass, kissed it and thrown it into the air. (Yeah, make fun of it, I dare you. A guy did a few years ago in our pick up league. 10 yards I sent him on a clean shoulder charge.) Its my thing. We called last 5 and I did it again today. The other team didn't score. I could feel my dad there with me.

I know. Its crazy. He wasn't there. He isn't there anymore. He can't be. But he is. And not just on the soccer field.

I know he is there when I am with my kids. I know he is there when I am in court. Sometimes, when a debt collector is really pissing me off, he is there. He is there when I am up speaking in front of a group. He encouraged me in my speech and debate. He was there when the damn Toyota Lexus won my first extemporaneous speech tournament.

He also taught me a lot of things and he is there with me when I remember those. He taught me that each generation should try to do better than the prior. Its why he valued education so much. My grandparents weren't educated. My grandfather sold toilet fixtures then worked on bombs in WWII. Then back to selling toilets. My dad put himself through school - bachelor's, masters and a PhD in pharmaceutical chemistry. I think 3 people know what that is.

(As an aside, the guy knew more about chemistry than anyone else I know. He couldn't teach me freaking high school chemistry. I barely passed. Dang good thing the teacher was 25, cute and I wanted her to think I was smart. But he could calculate present value in his head but couldn't teach me how to make H20.)

He passed on the value of education to me. Bachelor's degree, CPCU, law school. He saw me graduate. He talked to me after I took the bar exam. He never saw me sworn in as an attorney. He never had the chance to watch me practice law. Of course, there is a negative side to this. I could never have gone into business. I didn't want to have to compete with his legacy. Stupid, yes. But that is how I saw it.

Now, pushing 40, I look back and I realize its not a competition in terms of who makes more money, who has more things. He wanted me to learn from his mistakes. He was gone a lot. He traveled for business and wasn't home for more than 2 weeks at a time until I was in high school. I realize that there is more to being successful than making money. You have to figure out how you define a success and then reach for that. So while I will never have a PhD in anything, while I will never invent anything or have any patents or buy any companies, I don't need to. I realized that doing better means being there for my kids. Being around for them when they need me. Spending time with them doing things that they like - acting class, dance class, boy scouts, whatever.

He taught me that each generation also has it harder than the prior. My grandparents dealt with the great depression. My parents dealt with the cold war. My generation has Iraq, 9/11, drugs in school. My kids have issues that I haven't even figured out yet. But I could talk to my dad about these things. At first, we talked when he drove me to high school. Then we talked when I would come home from college for visits. Then over a game of pool at the retirement community. I know its my obligation to find that time with my kids.

He taught me to enjoy life. He always told me that if we got an inheritance it would be because he died before he could spend it all. I thought he was joking, but you never really knew. I remember he fired his first financial planner in San Diego. The guy was a jackass, but that isn't why he was fired. He was fired because he told my dad to stop buying diamonds. Yep. He thought my dad shouldn't buy my mom diamonds. My dad fired him. He had his toys. He went from his dream car, an 84 Corvette to a Chrysler LeBaron convertible with a 5.0 engine AND a turbo. Yeah, that thing went fast. Then a 72 Buick Skylark - that went faster. He liked his fast cars and his toys.

He passed that on to me. I don't know whether it was driving the LeBaron in high school and going way too fast, or driving that Skylark cross country with my dad and my brother. Somewhere along the way, he passed on his love of cars to me. He didn't work on them. He just admired them - and drove them. Delaware is still a blur when he and I were driving alone to a soccer tournament in the Corvette. I like my toys. I admit it. I got that from him. I realize, especially now, that life is too short. You should enjoy it. I don't buy into this idea that you should buy some $10,000 car if you really want, and can afford, the $20,000 car. Get it if you can afford it and enjoy it. I assure you my dad enjoyed everything he had and hasn't enjoyed anything in the last 9 years. He can't.

So here I am - 9 years almost to the hour when my dad passed away. I have learned that I have to go back to San Diego. I need to revisit some of those places that I enjoyed with my dad. I made some progress this year. In June, I took my kids to Nick's at the Beach, a place my dad loved, Del Mar beach, where I learned to boogie boards on Wednesday nights in the summer while he bbq'd with his friends. I visited the cemetery. I drove past my old house, past his retirement community.

And I sit and cry sometimes. Not often. I still miss him, but I have learned that its part of life. We live, we grow, we die. Those of us who live have to remember those of us who died and the lessons we learned. I am going to pass on those lessons to my kids and try to let the guilt go.

I miss you dad. I love you dad. I know someway, somehow, you are up there and looking out for me. I appreciate that and I hope I make you proud. I love you.

On birthdays and aging

2011-09-20T20:49:00.000-07:00

Am I better off dead?
Am I better off a quitter?

With apologies to The Script. Birthdays are odd. I recently had one. It was my first since my mom passed away. Odd that it got to me a bit. She hasn't called me on my birthday in 5 or 6 years. She just hasn't. We weren't that close. I loved her. She loved me. We didn't talk on birthdays. Heck, she didn't call me on Fathers Day. Why? Because I wasn't her father. Odd, but that is how we were.

So it felt odd on my birthday. She wasn't there. Not that it was different, but it was different. It felt odd. It felt strange. My wife did a great job making it a good day and I did my best to make it a good day. But it was off.

Getting older sucks. I am now pushing 40 - closely. 40 seems old. Not old like I need to go to a nursing home. But old like are my days on the pitch numbered? Am I going to be able to run anymore? I know I can, but it hits me as odd that time is passing me.

I have been more nostalgic lately. I have thought back about my childhood, about growing up. When I was getting frozen yogurt, or frogen yozurt as it was called at Penguins when I was in high school, I heard a song that my parents used to listen to. I was 14. We were driving to Las Vegas. It was my first trip there. Circus Circus.

And I have been thinking about the future. With apologies to Live: I don't need no one to tell me about heaven/I look at my daughter, and I believe. I see my kids and I see a future. I see Brooklyn, my little miracle. I see Miles, he was born after my dad passed away, but he is my dad - or as close as possible. I see Kyle, my mini-me, who doesn't share my DNA, but I now know how I frustrated my parents so much.

And I see Tyler. He missed my birthday. For the first time since 2000, I didn't have my first born with me. I miss him. I love him. And he wasn't here. And it sucks. It sucks beyond words.

It was an interesting birthday. There was good - it was better than in the last several years. But it was sad, my mom was gone and Tyler wasn't with me. I think, though, that this sums it up best:

Every memory of walking out the front door
I found the photo of the friend that I was looking for
It's hard to say it
Time to say it
Goodbye, Goodbye
Goodbye

Yeah, I have those photos, and even the ones that aren't on paper, aren't on the computer, they are in a place where they can't be destroyed by water, by fire, by a crashed computer. My mind. I still see my birthday party at McDonalds. I still see my first birthday with Tyler. Those are the memories I will remember as my 30s end, my 40s begin.

And despite what those sports guys say, my soccer days aren't over yet.

On Soccer

2011-09-18T20:08:00.000-07:00

I played my weekly soccer game today. Its nothing formal. Just a group of guys (sometimes women, but not often) who get together on Sunday afternoon and play soccer. It may be 3 on 3 or 4 or 4 or 10 on 10. We play with small goals and no goalies. Its a pretty diverse group ranging from late teens to over 50. I was thinking about soccer while we played.

Its such a simple game. You use any part of your body other than your hands (and arms) to get the ball into your opponent's goal. Each goal is 1 point. Its not like tennis with scoring that makes no sense (Love, 15, 30, 40 - apparently they can't count) or football (try explaining the scoring to someone who has never watched the game before - not rocket science, but you can score more times and still lose). Its easy. Anyone can play. Unlike baseball, you don't need special equipment. We have played with a ball and bags for goals. Its a simple game.

And it affects your life. I grew up playing soccer. I still email and correspond with some of those guys. We are friends on facebook and we share memories of growing up playing. Remember that time Dean dropped me on my head? We had the shortest team I think ever for our age. And, I am not sure I was the shortest - Adam may have been shorter. We had birthday parties together - I threw up on Jeff's dad's boat. We spent a lot of our childhood together. Those are some great memories.

And it stays with you. My "new" soccer friends are a diverse group. White, black, yellow. Some are old, some are young, some are tall, some aren't. Okay, I am the not tall one. Some of us are nice, well, most of us are nice, some are complete assholes. Really, just 1 guy. Most assholes play with us for a week or two and realize that they don't fit in so they stop coming. We like that. Some are Americans, some are from Ghana, South Africa, Mexico, Canada.

We have celebrated good times with each other. The birth of my baby. Engagements. Weddings, graduations. I have watched some guys grow up from high school kids who may have been a bit awkward to college guys who could run like the wind to married guys or engaged guys who are responsible, productive members of society.

We have shared tragedies. We lost a member of our group several years ago. In a touching moment, we had a moment of silence and then some folks said some prayers. We put up a bench in his memory and, once in a while, when the game is right, you can see something and think "There's Troy again."

Its a unique game. Its the beautiful game. When its played well, there is nothing like it. The sound of a clean, crisp pass. The ball whizzing past your head on a perfectly hit cross. The sounds of a team cheering a goal. People running up and down the field, looking like its chaos when, if done right, everyone knows exactly where he is supposed to be.

Then there is the bad side of soccer. Primarily youth soccer. Parents who yell constantly knowing nothing about the game. Coaches were insist on running drills from the 1970s. Leagues where politics are more important than the teaching of the game. Organizations trying to put other organizations out of business and not realizing that its about getting people to play the damn game. That is for another night.

Soccer brings people together like nothing else. Take a walk by a park where there is a soccer game. Bring some cleats and ask to play. They will let you play. Its who soccer players do it. We are a community. We accept others, even if they talk funny, look funny or just are funny. We teach the game to new people. We want to see everyone get better and enjoy the game.

The soccer community is a pretty special place. I want to thank my friends from my childhood for those memories of a lifetime. And my current soccer friends for memories that will continue on as we play the beautiful game.

September

2011-09-02T21:05:00.000-07:00

I was driving today when Green Day came on the radio. It was "Wake me up when September ends." It was my theme song for September. Was being the operative word.

You see, September sucks. When I was little, I always looked forward to September. It was the month school started and despite me being a crappy student, I liked going to school. At least, I think I remember liking going to school. I enjoyed my classmates. I think I enjoyed my teachers - or some of them. September was the start of the regular season of soccer. We had practices and tournaments in the summer, but the season kicked off in September.

As I got older, September took on new meaning. September is the month that we had a baby reclaimed from us. We met the birth parents just a few days before the baby was born. A few days after, we brought the baby home. Then, the worst phone call I have had in my life, and I have had two phones that my parents have died. I still remember that day. Vividly. Its one of the three worst days of my life.

Then, a few years later, my dad passed away in September. He was in the hospital for something minor and left me a voice mail. I didn't call back because he said he would be home in a few days. He never made it out of the hospital. I got the call from my mom that he had passed away. We had his funeral a few days later.

Oh, and these were back to back days on the calendar, even though they happened in different years.

Then, years later, my daughter was born. 09-09-09. Yep, my 9 baby. September got a little bit brighter. It still sucked at the end of the month, but at least the first 10 days were fun. (Lets not forget Sept 11.) What is better than your child being born? It ranks up there with the my wedding, the days I met my boys (who were all adopted [not are, as in its something still going on, but were as in it IS done]). So who can hate a month with a child's birthday, especially a child who, at least according to the doctors, was a one in a billion?

Today I had court. I had a rough night sleeping last night. Court went well. But I knew I was putting on a face for everyone. For today would have been my mom's 71st birthday. This day in 1940 she was born. And like my daughter was medically impossible, or so we were told, my mom wasn't supposed to get pregnant and yet here I am. She passed away less than 6 months ago. And I was doing fine. Or at least faking it well enough that no one knew. Then a commercial came on the radio for hospice. My mom died while in hospice. (Does anyone not die in hospice?)

So it made me think more. September sucks. I miss my mom. We were never the closest mother and son. But we were mother and son. We didn't talk much, or enough, especially in the last few years. But we talked when it mattered. That last conversation is something I will never forget and anyone who wants to tell me that it doesn't matter has never had that conversation. You know, the one where you know its the last time you are going to see someone alive and you say those things that you have thought but never said. Those might be the most honest conversations we ever have in life.

And as I sat and thought, and as I sit and write, I realize that my mom wouldn't want me to sit and mope for a month - or half a month. Sure, I can miss her today. I can miss my dad on the anniversary of his passing. But that's it. Two days. September should be good. The fall is coming. Soccer gets started. School is in full swing. Its a reminder of the cycle of life. Its a reminder of the good things in life. Fall colors.........pumpkins.......apples...........the smell of fresh cut grass.........rain.........

So for me, its not Wake me up when September ends. Its wake me up when September comes. Here is to a new month, a new attitude and a new approach. And thanks Mom. There are always lessons you can teach.

Idiot T-shirts

2011-08-28T20:08:00.000-07:00

What the heck is up with t-shirt companies? I saw an actual t-shirt today that said "I'm adopted just look at my parents." Is that supposed to be funny? Apparently its made by a group of idiotic morons at a company called David & Goliath. Apparently, Not my cup of tea, Time is money and Sink or swim were all taken as company names because they douche bags couldn't come up with a better name that David & Goliath. I don't know if Immaculate Conception, Virgin Mary, Moses, and Adam and Eve were already taken. I will look into that.

I mean, there are some things you can make fun of. You can make fun of the girl who shakes her ass when she walks. You can make fun of almost any musician or actor who decides to do something dumb. I admit it, I have made fun of Pitbull (dude looks more like a rat terrier) among others. You can make fun of "reality" tv stars - Operation Loser, er, Repo, is always a good target. But as I have said before, there are some things you don't make fun of.

Skin color? Nope. You don't do it. Religion? Only if you want a fight. Sexual orientation? Um, only if you are an unfunny Tracy Morgan. Disabilities? I guess if you are a loser. And birth status? Nope.

Seriously, you think its funny to make adoption jokes? Are you going to make twin jokes too? Or maybe, a better question, are you going to make fun of foster kids? "I'm a foster kid...just look at the number of homes I have lived in." NOT FUNNY! Maybe you can make fun of kids with no parents too? "I have no parents and someone bought me this idiotic shirt." Wait, maybe we make fun of the kids put up for adoption who weren't actually adopted? "My biological mom tried to place me for adoption, but no one wanted a baby born addicted to heroin."

You see, there are some things that should be sacred. I guess in our culture they aren't. And I guess if you have to sell some piece of crap t-shirts that look like they were made by a douche who probably lives at home, then that is fine. By the way, Todd Goldman in Florida, your shirts SUCK ASS. You probably think Jewish jokes would be funny too. After all, its clear you have the sense of humor of a 4 year old who doesn't know right from wrong. I mean, that heat and humidity clearly have screwed up your brain so that you still find kindergarten humor funny. How about you grow up and come up with something funny?

By the way, all of the profits you made from this shirt, Douchebag and Greedy, you should donate to the Dave Thomas Foundation. Maybe do something positive for adoption, which you seem to think is funny. Its not. Its a great way for people who can't have kids to have a family. And its a great way for kids and babies to get a family. I guess you would rather see those kids end up in institutions or dead? Maybe you should think before you make some more idiotic piece of garbage t-shirts. These shirts are so bad you shouldn't even donate them to a 3rd world country. We should burn them all - in your piece of crap family room. Oops, in your parents piece of crap family room.

Now back to your regularly scheduled shows............

On Being a Trial Lawyer

2011-08-19T20:16:00.000-07:00

So today seems to be bash trial lawyer day. I don't know if its a national thing, but its happening in California. Summary of why: the California Supreme Court made a ruling that insurance companies say would cost them $3 billion per year. And suddenly folks have realized that trial attorneys work on a contingency fee so we would get 1/3 of that. Its a rough number. But lets say it is right. (I think all of the numbers are BS and made up, but I will work with it.)

So I am a trial lawyer. What does that mean? It means I sue people. Yep, that's right. I sue people. And I don't care if people think its a derogatory term.

First, lets just understand that trial lawyers are not all the same. We have short ones, tall ones, fat ones, thin ones, ugly ones, handsome (pretty?) ones, smart ones, dumb ones, idiotic ones, geniuses, good ones, bad ones. When you say "Oh, they are the trial lawyers" its not like you are talking about a tribe of headhunters from the Amazon who all do the same thing. Its not like we are all 6'2, blonde hair, green eyes. We aren't the freaking Nazis. It would be like saying teachers, professors, radio talk show hosts or ANY OTHER FREAKING JOB!

Oh, and we aren't all liberal. Not every trial lawyer believes in social programs. Not every one is pro choice. Not every one wants to see communism take over. (Something we will get to in a minute.) At the same time, not all of us are pro-small business or tax cuts for the rich or anything like that. In fact, some of us (not me) are rich and want tax cuts for the rich while others of us are middle class and think the rich shouldn't get tax cuts. You can't lump us in as a group.

Second, we aren't bad. Suing people, in and of itself, is not bad. Yes, frivolous lawsuits are bad. You want to talk about frivolous lawsuits? How about suing individuals for $500 in court when you know that you served them improperly? How about one business suing another over a $1,000 contract dispute when the attorney fees are more than that to file the dang thing? How about suing an individual when you have been told of identity theft and there is an active police investigation? Yep, all of those things happen.

I sue people. I admit it. I sue businesses too. I send them a letter before I do it. No one has ever been sued by me and said "Damn, I had no idea this was coming." They may have said "Damn, I didn't know he was serious." But they all knew it was coming. I may not win every case, but I investigate it and make sure its got merit. Then I go at it. Its my job.

Oh yeah, its my job. Lets talk about that. Being a trial lawyer is not my identity. I am not "Jonathan Stein, trial lawyer." I am Jonathan Stein, dad, father, coach, person, human. As a matter of fact, if I had to give you 10 words that describe me, trial lawyer, lawyer, attorney, counselor at law (which is an idiotic name) or anything of the sort would be at the bottom of my list. You see, my job does not define me. It is part of me. So don't give me all this crap that I am a trial lawyer. I am a person. Sometimes I do good things, sometimes I do bad things. That applies to every aspect of my life. I am not perfect nor do I claim to be. And that goes for my career as well - I make mistakes, but I am a trial lawyer, not a perfect lawyer.

Third, trial lawyers are entrepenuers. Not all of us. Some work for big firms, but its probably less than 5%. Most of us work for ourselves or in small law firms. We are small business. We employ people. We provide jobs. We also only get paid when our clients get paid. Let's be clear: WE GET PAID WHEN OUR CLIENTS GET PAID. So I work for free until that time. Oh, and don't tell me when I am done I didn't earn it. I worked for free. You go to your boss and tell him not to pay you until you complete a job and he makes money on it. You don't want to do that? Yeah, well, that is what we do, every single freaking day.

Why does this matter? Two reasons. First, if I were to file frivolous lawsuits I wouldn't make any money. Think about it. If I spend $400 to file a lawsuit and work 100 hours on it, and there is no merit to it, how much money do I make? I lose $400 plus 100 hours of my life that I can never get back. Ever. Gone. Poof. Vanished. So why would I take a frivolous case? I wouldn't. DUH! Second, it means I better have some idea what I am doing. I have to evaluate a case and figure out if it makes financial sense. In other words, just like you guys out there selling, I have to take things where I can make money. Isn't that capitalism?

This, of course, is why trial lawyers are not pro-Communism. Under a communistic system, we wouldn't have jobs to make money. So don't call us commies, or whatever the hell idiot expression Michael Douchebag Savage uses. (And yes, he is a douchebag who makes money because he can yell. He hasn't had an original thought in 20 years.) So stop that nonsense.

There are people who are now ashamed to be called a trial lawyer. Years ago, the Association of Trial Lawyers of America changed their name to the American Association of Justice or some such nonsense. Look, I am not in the justice business. I don't make money on a justice. Justice scares me. I don't know what it is. Call me and tell me you want justice and I will tell you I can't take your case. Sorry. Maybe it sucks. But I can't use 1/3 of justice to pay my bills. Oh, and how do you know when you get justice? Is it an eye for an eye? Is it cutting off the hand of a thief? I don't know, but I don't want 1.65 fingers. Sorry.

I quit ATLA when it changed its name to AAJ. (By the way, say ATLA and then say AAJ. Like they are words. AAJ is not a word. It sounds like you are puking.) I quit because I don't want to run and hide from what I am. I am a trial lawyer.

I could have graduated from law school and done something else. Despite being told by a young associate at a big law firm that I wasn't smart enough to work in his firm, and despite being told by my high school guidance counselor not to apply for college because I wouldn't get in, I think I could hack it there. I could have gone to work for a big law firm and made six figures out of law school while working 100 hours per week. It was a possibility. Hell, I graduated top 10 from law school. Its not an issue.

But would representing millionaires and billionaires be enjoyable? No. I don't like it. I also don't want to sit in a library all day doing research or writing memos or things like that. I don't want to report to 5 people who never let me do anything. I am a trial lawyer. Its what I do. Its part of me. It is not me, but part of me.

And, quite frankly, I am good at it. I can stand in front of a jury and convince them, at least for a few hours, of my viewpoint. I can get them to see my client as a person, a person who has been injured or hurt. I can get them to understand why my client is entitled to what I am asking for. I have never seen any of my closing arguments. And I don't want to sound cocky, because goodness knows I need help and am still learning, but while the other attorney in my last trial was the managing partner of some fancy Orange County law firm, she had to read her closing argument and I stood up and spoke from the heart. Its what I do. Its what we do. We represent real people who have real problems and need real solutions. And those solutions come by filing lawsuits.

I am a trial lawyer and I am proud of it.

Fathers and Sons

2011-08-16T20:29:00.000-07:00

Let me preface this by saying I don't understand the relationship between mothers and daughters. I am neither mother nor daughter. So I can only talk about what I know. Yes, I know. Sometimes I just make crap up and some of its funny. Some of it is insulting. I get that. But this is about something I know - fathers and sons.

The relationship between a father and son is......................something. Special? Sounds too cliche? Different? Probably, but different than what? Unique? Probably. After all, mothers and daughters don't have all of that testosterone running through them. But there is something about that relationship.

So tonight I was at Rubio's to get dinner. There were two sets of fathers and sons that I saw. Father and Son A were there for dinner. As they walked in, the son was on his Crackberry. Dad held the door for the son. (Just so we are clear, dad was in his early 60s and the son was late 20s.) The son was standing in line in front of the father. The son walked up to the cash register to order. Dad stood in line. The son then ordered his dinner. Then he paid. Then he walked to a table. Then dad walked up and ordered. Paid. Sat down at the table. They called the son's name and he went to get his food. Then they called the dad's name and dad got his food.

WTF is wrong with this kid? Kid is probably not accurate. WTF is wrong with this mid 20s douche? He isn't even good enough to be a douche bag. Your dad is around for like 40 years of your life. Maybe. When he is gone, he is gone. That's it. Of your 40 years, maybe 20 are years when you can do something cool with him.

Those first few years are formative, or something like that. But you can't take dad to dinner. Then you go through that 10 to 18 range where you may not want to be seen with dad, you dont want to hang out with him, and even if you do, you can't afford to treat him. So dad spends his money on you. Great, its his "job" I guess. Then you are 18 to 24 and in college and poor, probably because you spent most of your money on alcohol - or worse. Then at about 25, you are finally working, have some money and can take dad to dinner.

Now you get the chance and YOU DON'T PAY? What is wrong with you? You had a Yves Saint Laurent wallet and you don't pay for dinner with pops? By the way, what man carries Yves Saint Laurent? Seriously? What's next? Are you going to wear UGG boots? Are you going to put on some lipstick? Sorry, off the point. You dropped $100 on a wallet and you don't buy dad dinner? Are you freaking serious?

Then, after I order, I sat down and waited for my food. I look up and there is a dad and his son in his late teens, early 20s. It was hard to tell and the kid was big. It looks normal and then I notice dad is feeding his kid. Yep, the kid was special, different, unique. Whatever you want to call it. Dad needed to help his kid eat. The kid needed dad. You can bet your butt that the kid would have loved the opportunity to do something for dad. But he can't and he won't. And that won't change.

It sucks. It sucks for dad. It sucks for the kid. Oh, don't give me this nonsense about how dad is doing something noble. Dad is being a dad. Trust me on that. And trust me - it sucks. I know my oldest son is never going to call me up and ask me to dinner. I know he isn't going to call me up and tell me about his new job. I understand that. I get it. And I deal with it, but it sucks. It sucks a lot. And those of us who are fathers of sons who are special know it. Some of us can admit it. Not everyone is that stage.

But you can bet that those of us who have been through this do appreciate our relationships with our fathers more. Well, as long as they are there. And when we don't have our dad to call anymore, we appreciate those relationships with our sons. I appreciate my two other sons more. I expect more from them as well. And fair or not, that is how it works.

But to all of you punks out there who carry Yves Saint Laurent murses or purses or whatever the hell it is - you sure as hell take your dad to dinner and pay for it. There are a lot of fathers and sons out there who will never experience that so man up and do it. Or turn in your man card you piece of crap.

Sears

2011-08-09T11:39:00.000-07:00

Dear Sears:

F--- you. Seriously. Oh wait, I am sorry. Sears doesn't exist. Dear Searsholdings: F--- you. Your customer service blows. Big time. I could get better customer service from my dog. Now granted, my dog is smarter than your average dog, but he is still just a DOG! Do you not understand what customer service is?

You see, I went to your store to buy a dryer. Why? Because you said you could deliver it and install it the next day. Isn't that part of your advertising? I don't get it. So, fine, you tell me you can install it the next day. Great. I buy it for over $1,000. I am not sure if you are aware, but its a freaking recession. Do you know what that means? People don't spend $1,000 on dryer's. That could explain why I was the only one there buying anything!

So no call on Sunday night as promised. I mean, how am I supposed to know when you are coming if you don't call? Monday morning at 7:30, someone calls and will be out between 1:30 and 3:3o. Not perfect, but fine. I need my dryer - hence buying one and spending money on you delivering it and setting it up! But fine. We make it work. Dude shows up at 2:30 and is done in about 5 minutes.

Today, we go to use said dryer and it doesn't work. Now I am not a dryer expert, but it should work IF ITS BRAND NEW! But this doesn't work. So I break out the manual and try a few things. Oh guess what, you didn't set it up right.

So I call. First guy tells me I called the wrong number. He gives me a different number. Then I get a guy who tells me that I need to have the installation guy come back out. Um, if he didn't do it right the first time, why on earth would I want him to come out again? Seriously. You mean that the guy who couldn't do it right the first time should come back out and not do it right the 2nd time, but I should trust him to do it right this time? Yeah, I think not.

Then I am put on the phone with a woman who sounds like she is in India. Oh wait, she probably is. She tells me that she can't get someone out for a few days. Do you not realize that I paid for next day installation, not next day partial installation? Seriously, if I wanted it installed wrong, I would have done that myself. Its that freaking hard? I tell her I need someone today. She says I have to speak to the manager.

You would think this is progress. WRONG! She apparently meant the manager on duty of the store where I bought it. How is this person going to help me? Well, first she tells me that she is on a cordless phone and can't hear me that well. I ask her if Sears has any phones with cords. Apparently, her phone is so bad that she can't even hear this! After a few more minutes of her having a phone that apparently routes through Timbuktoo, she hangs up on me. UNREAL!

So I call back. I get told that someone is looking into it and will call me back. Guess what? No freaking call back. What do I do? I call them. I am not sure if they know this but when you have 4 kids you make a lot of laundry. How are we supposed to live without a dryer? I know. The laundromat. Yep, that is why I spent $1,200 on a dryer - so I could go to the freaking laundromat.

So I get this woman who now tells me the number I was given to call is wrong. Of course, she sounds like she is in China or Malaysia or some place where they don't have proper phone service. She is going to transfer me. I swear I am not making this up. She transfers me - and it rolls right back to her. How the hell do you do that? Seriously, you transferred me, it rang, I got the message that I had called Sears and it goes back to you? Are you joking? So I told her I still needed someone who could help. She transfers me again.

This time I get some dude on the phone. At least he sounds like he is in the US. But he tells me that it sounds like they didnt vent the dryer before sending it out to us. So it will require them to pick it up, take it back to the warehouse, vent it and then bring it back to me. This could take several days. I explain to him that I didn't drop $1,200 on a dryer to have it take a week and if they couldn't fix it, that they could take it back. His actual response: "That is fine with me." Really? Its fine with you. Then come pick it up.

Oh suddenly I am serious. OOPS! Bad call on his part. I don't bluff on that crap. So it turns out that a brand new one will be delivered - tomorrow, and VENTED! What kind of shmucks deliver a dryer that isn't vented? Oh, they are supposed to call me between 6 and 8 tonight to tell me what time they will be delivering it. Want to bet that doesn't happen?

Of course, he is sending me a coupon for 10% off my next purchase at Sears. What are the odds of that happening? Slim and none. Why would I spend my hard earned money on your products when it took me an hour to get this cleared up? Do I have idiot written across my head?

People

2011-08-03T20:28:00.000-07:00

I went to DMV today. I spent about 2 hours there. Have you ever spent two hours at DMV? Its not the waiting that is interesting. The waiting sucks. The rules are dumb. Its the people. People are fascinating.

I walked in. The security guard was wearing a tie and dude was probably in his 60s. He had a high school degree. He enjoyed his job, even when he had to carry the heavy boxes. Then there was the lady who inspected my car. She had finger nails longer than my fingers. Her parents owned a 68 Chevy and they couldn't maintain it anymore. Sit, watch, listen, learn. Its amazing.

Then it hit me. Here I am at DMV. I dressed up - shorts and a t-shirt. With the 20 people I interacted with, some in line, some employees, I probably was more educated than all of them - combined. That's not to brag. Its not my style. I don't care if they have a 5th grade education, an 8th grade education or a PhD. I like talking to people. You have to like them to do what I do for a living. And these people are happy. Genuinely happy.

Not all of them were happy, obviously. But there was the guy who had injured his leg and had a limp. The guy with the hat, long hair and fanny pack laughing about his morning. The woman who came to the US but didn't have her state ID. They were smiling and happy. They had lived their dreams - or at least fake it better than most.

And here I was - wondering, thinking, pondering. Had I lived my dreams? Did I reach my goals? I was 14. My dad took me to one of his co-workers homes. Her husband flew Blue Angels. If you are a male about my age, there are very few things cooler than the Blue Angels. They rank up there with the Harlem Globetrotters. (If you don't like the Globetrotters, stop reading now. In my late 30s, they still make me laugh - a lot.) We talked about it and he gave me some tips. He had graduated from the US Naval Academy. Very impressive. Yet, when I was in high school I sucked as a student. I didn't want to suck. No wait, I did. I wasn't very good, I wasn't very motivated and I didn't care. Guess what? You don't go to Annapolis if you don't have good grades.

Then I was 15. My dad had a friend over from the big corporate office on the East Coast. (Is East Coast capitalized or is it east coast? I don't know - and don't think I care.) I was walking upstairs and we were talking. I told them I was going to be a millionaire by 30. Guess what? Not even close. At 30, I was still figuring out what I wanted to do with my life.

I had other dreams - professional soccer player, corporate CEO, risk manager. Fun ones, I know. None of them were reached.

I don't know that it matters. I am happy with where I am. Husband, father, contributing member of society (except for this blog). I have a roof over my head, food on the table, the love of my family, good friends. Do I really have anything to complain about? Probably not.

Back at DMV (do it in your best Superfriends voice), I looked to my left. There were 2 women and 6 kids. Not little kids. Probably 16 through 19. They were special. They were clearly different, but I am not sure they knew it. I don't know that they cared either. And I watch them sit there, smile, and not notice anyone next to them. And I realize that is it for them. This is their quality of life. I am sure their parents didn't sit around and say "I hope Billy grows up so he can go to DMV with other kids like him as his weekly outing." I know I don't say that about my own son.

I guess it hit me that some of us are lucky, pretty damn lucky. We have the dreams. We have the ability to have these dreams. We know what we want - or what we think we want. We can achieve great things - if we want. These kids don't have that. They have the joy of one day then the next. The days are all the same. None of these kids was going to grow up and become President or even the security guy at DMV. This was it.

I realized today that we need to be thankful for not only what we have, but for what we can have. Don't aim low and hope you reach it. Aim high and reach for what you really want. If your kid wants to be President, don't tell her that she can't. Tell her what she needs to do to get there. We need to remember that life isn't always what we have, but its also what we can have, what we dream of having, not cars, houses and "stuff" but flying Blue Angels, finding a new planet, discovering some unknown life.

My hometown

2011-08-01T20:13:00.000-07:00

(With apologies to Bruce Spingsteen who wrote about my actual hometown.) Okay, so it isn't quite my HOMETOWN. But I live here dang it. And I am sick and tired of people bashing my town.

Today, it was called a ghetto. A ghetto? According to Merriam Webster, a ghetto is "a quarter of a city in which members of a minority group live especially because of social, legal, or economic pressure." I don't know the exact ethnic breakdown of my city, but I looked it up. Its 46% white, 18% Hispanic, 26% Asian, 11% black and the rest is other, whatever the hell that means. How exactly are you other? Anyway, the median income is $83,000 per year and only 6% of the population is below the poverty line. Okay, only 6% as if its a small number. Its too big, but lets be realistic: 6% is not a bad number. For comparison purposes, Sacramento has about 20% of its population below the poverty line and the median income is about half of Elk Grove's median income. Just so we are clear: under no definition can you call Elk Grove a ghetto.

Sure, Elk Grove has changed. When I moved here back in 94, it was predominantly white. Oh wait, it still is, you idiots. Its 46% white. Sure, I guess that is technically under half, but its close enough to say Elk Grove is mostly white. Simple. Not even anything to discuss. Is it as white as it used to be? No. But how is that a bad thing? I am not sure if you folks are aware of this, oh I am using folks in a very general sense, but the world is not mostly white either. I would rather my kids, who by the way aren't white, grow up in a world where they see people for people and not by the color of their skin. Sure, its a cliche, but how bigoted do you have to be to think that its a bad thing for a city to get more diverse? In 2011, when a large number of families aren't all white, or black, or yellow or red or purple, why should our city be? If you want all white, move to freaking Antarctica - or Arkansas. Either way, its not here.

Then it was called a "nightmare." I didn't even have to look this up. I know what a nightmare is. You want a nightmare? Go spend 6 months in Afghanistan or Iraq. Go try to express your religion in Tibet or China. Go try to eat in Ethopia. I know We are the World is no longer on the radio except at Christmastime, which by the way, not everyone celebrates, but there is still a famine going on over there. Try living in this country with no job, no money, or a felony conviction on your record. Try growing up with a mental illness so that you cannot interact with people like "normal people" can. Those things are nightmares.

Elk Grove has issues. Sure. So does freaking Beverly Hills with a murder last year. We had two guys drowned in pools in the last 10 days. We had a hold up of a stop and rob or a check cashing business or some such nonsense. Yep. It happens. And in my hometown there were fights between the races, people pulled bats, knives and guns in the 60s and 70s. Yet, for some reason, no one thinks of it as a nightmare or a ghetto. Ah yes, those folks are much more tolerant.

Just so we are clear, I don't find Elk Grove perfect. I think the city council bickers too much. I think some people are on power trips. I think the parks aren't the best. I think some people drive too fast. I KNOW some people are too judgmental. But I do what I can.

In the meantime, the whiners and complainers do what? NOTHING! Oh wait, they whine and complain. Here is what I don't understand about these people. If you don't like something, you can sit on your fat ass and complain or you can try to fix it. How do you fix a city? You run for city council. Look, if my front door is broken, I can either complain about it or fix it. How is this any different? If my city is broken, or I perceive it to be broken, I can either complain or do something. Whining on the internet that my city is broken is not fixing it. Its whining. Its bitching and moaning and complaining. I guess it may help you feel better, but its so unproductive.

I admit it - I have whined and complained. Go back and read through some of these. I bitched about people who suck, I complained about cancer when my mom died. But you know what - then I manned up (or womaned up). I dealt with people who suck. (Sorry you have to wait for the book for that.) I put together a fundraiser for cancer. Is it a cure? Nope. Does it make things better? Yep. Its not that hard.

If you dont like my town, go run for city council. Go join a committee. Go DO. Don't whine. Don't complain. Do or shut the f---- up. Is it really that hard?

I like my town. I have friends who are blue collar, white collar, red collar. (I don't know what red collar is, but maybe they work in a red light district?) I have friends who are rich and some who struggle. I know PhDs and people who didn't graduate high school. I talk to people who speak English weller than I do (I know that isn't right, it was a freaking joke) and I talk to people who speak English as a 2nd or 3rd language. And you know what? I like them all. It makes my life interesting. It makes life fun.

I don't need to sit around and be around people like me. In case you don't know, I am boring. And a lot of me - even more boring. The more of me, the boringness increases by a factor of 10. So if I am alone, its a boring of 1. 2 of me, makes it a boring of 10. 3 makes it a boring of 100 and so on. Sure, I would play a lot of soccer, but I would be bored out of my mind in about 10 minutes. And life would suck.

So if you don't like my town, either do something about it or get the heck out of dodge.

WOW! Such negativity. Why? What makes Elk Grove so bad? Or what makes someplace else so good? And why do you complain about it?

Okay, first, if you are going to complain, have you run for city council? That is the easiest way to make a change. If you haven't, should you really complain?

And why is Elk Grove so bad? Look at the diversity we have here. Not just racial or gender, but blue collar/white collar, PhDs, high school graduates, etc.... Be specific and don't just complain.

People Bug

2011-07-31T18:38:00.000-07:00

Okay, I know I have been trying to be more positive. And that is why I haven't posted as much. But today I just feel the need to rip some people.

First, what is the deal with the folks who drive piece of crap cars? I know - I write about it every few months. Go google Adam Sandler's song and listen to it. I won't link to for a 20th time. Its like they drive a piece of crap so they don't care if they pull out in front of you, cut you off or in general drive like their cars - garbage. I don't understand it. Fine, your car sucks. But does that mean you want to die? Seriously. Your 1988 Honda Civic is not going to do well against my Expedition. I promise you that won't end well for you. There is a reason I drive a big car - and its because of folks like you.

Second, the guy at the Farmers Market....really, the Jews caused 9/11. Really? Its a big freaking conspiracy and its the Jews fault? Do you really believe that or is your life so pathetic that you have nothing better to do than sit there every single Sunday and spill this nonsense? I guess the Jews also killed Jesus, the Holocaust never happened and the right to bear arms means that everyone in the country is allowed to have a maximum of 2 arms. (Yes, I am being literal. Yes, it is funny. Laugh. Laugh, I say, or I will make you listen to this guy and his nonsense.) Get a clue. Seriously.

Speaking of people who need a clue, how about the guy who tried to get San Francisco to ban circumcision? First, we don't let cities decide what medical procedures you can and cannot have. Imagine if you live in SF you can have a heart transplant, but Oakland decided that it wasn't worth it? Or maybe you can have a collapsed lung repaired in San Diego, but not in Anaheim because Mickey doesn't like people with collapsed lungs? Second, we have this little thing called the First Amendment. Now, I am not the brightest guy in the world but I think I learned about this in law school. Like, the government shall not make any law impeding the free expression of religion. I am not sure if you are aware of this, but there are several religions that require circumcision. By its never nature, its unconstitutional. It would be like a law that bans prayer on Sunday or wearing a cross. You are a douche. Not even a douchebag, but you are a full on douche. You are anti-Semitic and anti-smart. Yes, I called you dumb. Thankfully a Judge put an end to your idiocy.

Then there are people who just suck. These people never have anything nice to say about anything. Everything is bad or is going to suck or is going to fail. Really? Life is that miserable. Maybe you need to get your eyes checked. Its not that bad. You are alive. You probably have a roof over your head and food to eat. That puts you ahead of a fair number of the population. And you probably aren't mentally ill. Again, puts you ahead of a lot of people. So stop your freaking whining and figure out what is good in life. Or email me and I will try to make it clear for you. Clear?

I am sure there are more people who bug. As soon as I find them, I will let you know who they are.

More on death

2011-07-27T20:43:00.001-07:00

So I was talking to a friend today and he had a bad day yesterday. Then I come home and after the MLS All Star game, there is a brief segment on ESPN on athletes who have passed away in the last year. You know, the montage of photos along with some sappy song that I didn't know. And I watch the names go by and I think to myself that some of these folks are my age, some younger and quite a few older. Why?

Death is hard to explain. Not biologically. The brain stops, the heart stops beating and your body shuts down. Simple. Although, why does death happen fast for some and drag on for others? Take two people with a similar disease. One will die faster than the other. One may suffer, one may not. I don't know why and I don't think God does either. Maybe. Maybe there is some plan that makes sense, but I don't think so. What does someone learn from suffering? The person who dies doesn't learn because, after all, they are dead. The living? Maybe they learn that suffering sucks, but we know that already, don't we?

It is amazing how precious life is. How quickly it can go. And we all say "Live every day like its your last." Nickelback sang it better than I can write it. But, do we live it? Can we live it? Is it even possible?

Leave no stone unturned, leave your fears behind.........I wish it was that easy. Fear is everywhere. It can be bad and cause people to freeze. We have all seen it. But it can also motivated people. Fear drives success sometimes. The fear of failure can be a powerful motivator.

Would you live each moment like your last........Its easier said than done. If I could live each moment like my last, it might actually be. I would tell people who are idiots that they are idiots. I would tell people who waste life that they are wasting it. Its not that attorneys think they are better than people. Well, some do. Those folks are jackasses. Its that they think what they do is so important. They get into arguments about who goes first. Really? Does it make a difference? Is it that important? Would you want to be judged because you had to absolutely go first? I think we taught our kids that its not important to go first. Heck, in baseball, you want to go LAST.

The problem is that we are so set in having to have it our way. We want life to be Burger King. Its not. And then it ends and when it ends, you realize not only is it not Burger King, it shouldn't be. Its not easy. Its not always fun. Sometimes it sucks. You don't always get your way.

But when you have a chance to do something good, you have to take it. Screw carpe diem, its more like carpe moment. Seize that one moment in time when you can change something or someone. I hate those Liberty Mutual commercials about responsibility. Its not responsibility that they are showing. Its this - seizing the moment. Someone drops a wallet, you don't pick it up because its the responsible thing to do. You pick it up because you want to help that person who dropped it and make their day a bit better. You stand up on the trolley when a woman gets on not because its the responsible thing to do, but because you want to help make her day better. It goes for old people, young people, rich people, poor people.

I see people saying that they won't help someone who asks for a dollar or a cup of coffee or some gas for their car. Really? There but for the grace of God, go I. Is that person always going to do the right thing with it? Nope. But does it matter? For that moment, you have helped someone. You made their day better, whether they buy a burger, buy a joint or give it to their kid to get a drink at school.

This is why God doesn't have a plan on whether people suffer. He doesn't care. We all have to experience death so we realize the joy of life. When someone suffers, it pisses us off. Trust me on this. Its hard when someone dies. Its harder when someone dies and suffers. But that doesn't effect the outcome: the person dies. The secondary outcome is that the survivors recognize the sanctity, not of life, but of helping others. We have been told from a young age that life is precious, fragile and should be cherished. But we haven't been told that living life really means seizing that moment - taking that chance. You may succeed, you may fail, but you have to take it and see what happens. You have to try, for not trying to seize the moment is worse than not realizing that life is precious.

Maybe I am crazy. I don't know. I do know this - life is valuable but a life lived without helping others seems to be lacking. You don't have to set the world on fire, but you do have to make a difference in one life. Being a millionaire, selling millions of records, having a tv show may make you a success in your own mind, but until you have made someone else's life better, you haven't really lived.

Don't confuse success with being successful. Don't confuse life with living.

More on parenting

2011-07-05T20:21:00.000-07:00

So I have been thinking about this for a few days. Mulling it over. No, not the fact that Tracy Morgan is a douchebag. This is a fact. Dude is a douchebag. I guess I have never really watched him before but he can barely put together a complete sentence. And he can't talk. Is that funny? Is mumbling funny now? If so, I am going to start talking without moving my mouth. I am sure my high school speech coach is going to love that. "himynameisjonandiamnotmovingmymouthwhenitalk."

In addition to mumbling, dude thinks its funny to make gay jokes. Sure it is. And then he is going to make fun of the mentally challenged. Yeah, mental illness is real fucking funny. How about if I start making fun of your skin? Or maybe I should make fun of your nose? Oh wait, not funny? I know. That is why I am not a douchebag. Only douchebags make fun of things about people that the people can't change. Race, religion, sexual orientation, mental illness. None of these are funny. Ever. And if you are a "professional comedian" you should be funny enough to make jokes without going to any of those. If you can't make jokes without going to these, then find a real job like the rest of us.

But that's not what has me annoyed today. I won't even get into people who are never freaking happy. Go away unhappy people. You blow. Big time. I was at the store the other day with my kids. Its me with my lack of hair, my translucent daughter and my very tan boys. We are a motley crew. I admit it.

I had to keep putting up with some guy giving me a look like I was Satan or something with my tan kids and my white skin. Yes, I know you dweeb - they don't look like me. And the more you look, the less they are going to look like me. I do appreciate when people try and try and try to make them look like me. "Did you have curly hair?" (My youngest son has curly hair.) No, I didn't. But thanks for asking. Staring at me is not going to make my boys look like me. Never. Ever.

I know this. They know this. Do you think staring at us is going to make someone feel better? Maybe it will make you feel better. I guess. If you are a loser. How exactly does this help anyone? Lets see - if I stare, maybe they will be so uncomfortable that they will leave. Sure. That is exactly it. You have me figured out.

Oh wait, no you don't. I am not going to leave because you are so uncomfortable with yourself that you are going to keep looking. Its one of the lamest, dumbest, most idiotic things you can do. Stare all you want, you piece of crap. I am not going to apologize for my kids looking like my kids. They are mine and I love them. If you don't like that, I would suggest you go crawl in a cave so we can blow up the entrance and not have to put up with your kind anymore.

I have always said there are very few things I will fight you over. One of them is my kids. So I would suggest in the future that you stop staring at them and mind your own fucking business, you waste of space in this great country of ours.

On Character

2011-06-06T20:07:00.000-07:00

So P!nk sings a song called Perfect. Or, if you have satellite radio, its Fuckin Perfect. (Yes, this is going to have profanity so if you don't like it, stop reading now.) The song says "if you ever, ever feel like you're nothing, You're fuckin' perfect to me." And as love songs go, or songs about one you love, its probably pretty good. Yeah, I listen to P!nk. Problem with that? I didn't think so. I also like Simon and Garfunkel, Springsteen and a whole bunch of other music.

Anyway, its not real. Its a song. And you know what I hate? I hate people who are fake. Or people who want you to think their lives are perfect. Your life is not perfect. Don't lie. Sure, someone asks you how you are, you can say "Fine" or "Good" or "Okay." But don't put up some bullshit front because you think you are fooling people.

Great, your kid is a fucking genius. Is he the next Steve Jobs? Tell me your kid is doing well at school. Don't tell me he is the smartest kid in his class at some swanky private school. A) I don't care if your kid goes to Idiot Elementary School or Genius R Us University. Its fucking school. In the grand scheme of things, school, especially elementary school, teaches us how to interact with other people and get along in society. There are plenty of smart kids who have been failures in society because they can't get along with others. 2) Your kid aint that smart. He got all A's in 4th grade? Great. Congrats. Very fucking impressive.

Oh, and you are the stud of your adult league sports team? Really? Its a fucking adult league. Its recreational. Most people who actually play sports don't play in these pansy leagues. Its not like we have to prove anything. Most of us did it when we were younger - you know, when we gave a damn about sports, when are parents paid for us to play sports. Now we want to play for fun and go to work to support our families. But I am glad you are the three sport star as a 38 year old. Does it make you feel good? I might suggest you take up underwater basketweaving or tiddlywinks as well. Maybe then you will kick ass in 5 sports against other pansies.

Oh, and your job is perfect with your ridiculous public employee pension. I am damn glad you can retire at 55 and get paid 80% of your income for the rest of your life. That is great. Get paid by the people to work and then get paid by the people to retire. It must be nice. And that job security. Sheesh. I mean, what don't you get? Do they bring you lunch and wash your car too? Do they give you a pedicure and keep your nails pretty while you sit on your fat ass, oh wait, your studly sports winning ass, and push paper from one piece of crap pile to the next? I know, you have to be soooo smart to get that job and go to one of those fancy places that has a Division I football team to get that job. You are a fucking genius and I am so happy for you.

Let me guess, your wife has a perfect fucking body too. I know, you have all that money you have, it must be nice to have plastic women as a wife. Let me guess: fake tits, a tummy tuck, lip injections, which by the way are disgusting, and probably her eyes done. That is called fake. I don't know about everyone else, but I like my women real. Like 100% real. Yeah, I know some guys like fake boobs. But fake everything? Great. Good for you. Enjoy that.

And while I am guessing, I assume you are going to brag that you are 10" and can go all night. Sure you can. And Jenna Jameson asked you to fuck her too. Or maybe Cameron Diaz. Sure. Its all fucking perfect for you.

Now to reality. Life sucks sometimes. Its not sucky, but it does suck. The rest of us have problems. I wish life was better constantly. But its not. You get dealt a raw hand sometimes. You have to put up with bad things. And bad things happen to good people. And you can't explain why. I wish I knew. But there isn't an answer. Although I may try to answer that later.

But you know what, fuck that. I don't care. I know its hard. Sometimes I sit in my car and look up at the clouds and think "What the fuck?" Sometimes I sit and look at my kids and think "I am not sure I signed up for this plan." But then I realize it. It hits me:

A man's character isn't shown when things are going well, but when things suck dick.

Think about that for a second. According to you, your life is perfect, great, amazing. Happy Fucking Birthday to you. You know what, when life is that good, its easy to be a good person. Its easy to make people think everything is wonderful. Its not rocket science.

But when you are faced with troubles, the question is then what kind of man are you? Are you the kind who is going to turn tail and run or are you the kind that is going to man up, figure out a solution and try to make the best of a bad situation? Any asshole can do good things when life is great. It takes a special asshole to do good things when life sucks.

So, congrats on your perfect fucking life. Congrats on everything being great. I mean, lets pretend that you arent a cocksucking piece of crap who lies about your failures and pretends they don't exist. I know my failures exist - big time. And people know about them. But that is okay with me. I also know that when push comes to shove, I am going to stand up, take responsibility for my failures and figure out how to make the best of the crap that life sometimes deals you. I am going to do the best I can. And if I fail or if I succeed, I know its based on me making the best damn decisions I can make. And there is no one who can sit and judge me for it.

Yeah, a man's character comes out when life sucks. You, on the other hand, are too perfect to understand.

On Children

2011-05-20T10:12:00.000-07:00

Remember that first time you held your child? You were somewhere. You remember the place. Your child was put into your arms and you saw all of the potential. Your child was perfect. It didn't matter if he was bald, had hair, pooped on you, or cried. Your child was perfect.

I remember the first time I held my oldest son. Heck, I remember the first time I held all of my children. My baby girl was at the hospital. My three boys were all at the adoption agency. But that first time you hold your baby is so special, so amazing, such an event. We really don't appreciate that enough.

We were at the adoption agency. They brought him in to the room. He was amazing. Brown eyes, brown hair. We have a picture of that time. His big head on my arms and I smiled. I looked at my wife and called him "Munch." It was a dumb nickname but it was perfect for him. My little munchkin. We spent the night at a hotel. I had no idea what I was doing with a baby. Thankfully my wife was there. Then we got on a plane and flew home the next day.

I even remember my first diaper change. We were on a United Airlines flight from New York to San Francisco. My wife had a headache. I said I would change his diaper. I took him to the bathroom and laid out the little diaper changing pad. How hard could this really be? I took off his diaper, wiped him, and turned around to throw it away. When I turned back, I was looking at the Trevi Fountain. (Google it, people.) Someone forgot to warn me that a baby boy will pee like this when you take off his diaper. OOPS! Live and learn. I remember it like it was yesterday.

But what do you feel when your perfect baby isn't? I don't mean that he punches another kid or doesn't do his homework. Heck, I barely did homework from 3rd grade through my junior year of high school. All kids make mistakes. All kids screw up. But what do you feel when your child has problems?

We have all experienced pain. I lost both of my parents. It was two different ways. My dad passed away suddenly, unexpectedly. With my mom, we knew it was coming. Both sucked. Both hurt. But we all know starting at about 9 that life means death. We all have to go. (Although I don't for a minute believe the end of the world is tomorrow.) So that pain comes and we can grieve.

Maybe we lose a friend. Maybe we have our heart broken. That pain is real too. It hurts. We find a way to deal with it.

But what do you do when the pain can't be fixed? Today, my oldest son has to go to LA for a few weeks. Alone. I can't be there with him. And it hit me today - I can't fix him. I want to. I need to. But I can't. Its a tradition in my family. Dad could always fix anything. Need a water pump for a 71 Skylark while you are stuck in the middle of NY? Dad can find one. Need an extra $20 to take your girlfriend on a date? Dad can help you out. Need to get over a broken heart? Dad has a remedy for that. Need to get over a fight with mom? Dad knows how to do that too. Can't move and need a wheelchair that will help you get around at the beach? Yep, dad could get that too.

But now dad doesn't have a fix. Dad can't just make this go away. I can't. And if my dad was here today, he couldn't either. Its a feeling of helplessness that I can't explain. I don't know the relationship between moms and sons or between moms and daughters. I know the relationship between dad and son. Its a special one, and I guess a lot like the relationship between a mother and a daughter. But when the son can't be fixed and when the son has problems that the dad can't solve, what do you do?

I wish I had an answer. Green Day says make the best of life and don't ask why. "It's not a question/but a lesson learned in time." If I take this approach, I guess I don't need an answer. But it seems lacking. It seems like the Budweiser commercial. "Why ask why, try Bud Dry." We see how well that made it. They haven't made Bud Dry since about 1988. It sucked - or so I was told.

Maybe now is not the time for an answer. Maybe now is the time to just ask questions. Maybe there is no answer today, this week, this month. Maybe the answer will come to me in time. Maybe the answer is that he ended up with us because he needed people who could give him the resources that he needed. After all, the odds of a child born in New York and ending up with a family from California are pretty slim. The odds of that child being able to live with two biological siblings are even slimmer. So maybe that is it. Maybe its simple. Someone had a plan for him and knew he would be special. And because he was special, he needed people who could give him access to the things that would give him some quality of life. At least for now, that answer is satisfying enough.

I'm so sorry

2011-05-18T14:50:00.000-07:00

A wise person once told me that saying sorry is the difference between being a man and a mouse. I think there is something to that. In fact, I have thought it for a few days, but I haven't had a minute to write about it.

Saying sorry is interesting. I doesn't really fix the problem. Look, Mike Vick can say he is sorry all he wants but there are still dead dogs. Barry Bonds can say he is sorry, oh wait, sorry. He would never say he is sorry. I guess that is why, while I hate what Vick did, I want to see him succeed. (I in no way condone what Vick did.) Dude was given a second chance because he admitted his mistake, as bad as it was, and is trying to be a better person. Bonds can't admit he did anything wrong, even with a small conviction over his head.

So as I was thinking of this, The Script came on. I was listening to the words: "They say bad things happen for a reason/But no wise words gonna stop the bleeding." Sometimes when bad things happen, there are wise words to help.

For example, when you screw up, a bad thing could happen. You miss your traffic ticket court date and a warrant is issued for you. Having a warrant for your arrest is a bad thing. Even if the cops aren't going to come pick you up, its bad. You don't want those floating around out there. But, if you say you are sorry, it will help. At least, the Judge will see you are a man. You are owning up to your mistakes.

So, with that said, let me start with "I'm sorry." I am sorry to the people I made fun of for things they could not control. Yes, I was a jackass when I was younger. (Caveat: I am not sorry for making fun of debt collectors. Those dweebs can get a job that doesn't require you to be an ass 24/7. I am also not sorry for making fun of the radio DJ who used the R word and I may have said he talks like he has marbles in his mouth. He still talks like that and while he may not be able to control it, he could learn to open his diarrhea filled mouth. That would solve the problem.)

I am sorry to the people I hit harder than I meant to or had to. I am sorry I punched you out of the door. You probably deserved it for not being nice to my wife, but I shouldn't have responded that way.

I am sorry to my parents. I wasn't always the best son. I know that. I tried. I did the best I could. I wish I could explain that to you now, but I can't. I am sorry that I can't explain it.

I am sorry to my kids. Look, there is no book on how to be a parent. We learn from our examples - our parents. I parent like my dad did. There is good and bad with it. I know. I yell. I get upset. I totally understand. One day, you will understand that this parenting stuff is harder than it looks.

I am sorry to my wife. The last few weeks, no wait, months, have sucked. We fight more than we should. I am stressed. I know. For some reason, you put up with me. I am sorry I can't fix everything. I wish I could. I wish I could more than you know.

I am sorry to that group of people who know who they are (and aren't reading this because of who they are). Sometimes, I fuck up. I don't mean to. I don't try to. I mean to do good deeds. Sometimes good deeds turn bad. And I know none of you think I need to say it, but I do.

And I am sorry to anyone else who I have hurt - either intentionally or not. I am sorry for not always being a great friend, or even a good friend. I am sorry that I don't pick up the phone and call as often as I should. Yeah, Facebook is great, but its not quite the same thing. I am sorry I don't write you a letter or send an email. I know I should.

And while I am apologizing, let me be perfectly clear: there are some things for which I shouldn't apologize. No, won't apologize for. Ever.

I am not going to apologize for advocating for my kids. Ever. Look, they are kids. They will always be my kids. At 11, 9, 7 and 1. At 21, 19, 17 and 11. At 31, 29, 27 and 21. At 41, 39, 37, and 31. And as smart as they may be, they are never going to have the same life experiences, or the same amount of life experience that I have. I am going to advocate for them. Sure, it may not be as much as they get older, but especially when they are young, I am going to get upset, get annoyed. If you are supposed to help my kids and you don't, I will give you another chance. Maybe even 3. But if you continue to fuck with my kids, I do have a breaking point. I will yell. I may make you cry. I will not apologize.

I will not apologize if you hurt my family and I kick your ass. I got in some dumb fights when I was younger. 7th grade over some comment some kid made to me. 9th grade, 10th grade. Hell, back in like 4th grade. I haven't been in a fight since my freshman year of college. Its like 20 years. But, if you hurt my family, I will kick your ass. I promise. And I won't say I am sorry after.

I will not apologize if I do what I think is right. If you are dying, I may not tell you everything. I may hide some things from you. I don't do it out of hate or spite or because I am a dick, I do it because I care. I do it because I do not want to hurt you. I do it because I know you have bigger issues in life than my issues. I promise I don't mean to hurt you by doing it, but I also promise I will not apologize for it. Nope. Not going to happen.

Yes, a real man stands up and apologizes. A man will admit when he has made a mistake. I admit to my mistakes. But there are sometimes when a man shouldn't, can't and won't apologize. I won't say I am sorry for those things. For everything else, I am sorry.

On death and dying

2011-05-04T20:18:00.000-07:00

As anyone who is reading this knows, I recently lost my mom. Cancer blows. A lot. Its tough now that I have lost both my parents. Not even 40 yet. Yeah, I know. Some people have it worse than me. I get it. Doesn't make it hurt any less. I wasn't overly close with my mom, but there is still a pain. But this isn't about me. This is about what people should do when a friend or loved one loses someone. Call it Jon's Commandments on Death and Dying.

1. Thou shalt not say "Its for the best." Really? The best? No, you know whats for the best? Its for the best if people didn't get fucked up diseases like cancer. Its for the best when someone gets a chance to say goodbye to a loved one. Its for the best if people wouldn't open their idiotic mouths and spill out shit like this.

Lets think about it. The best is a good thing. Michael Jordan was the best. Pele was the best. Bruce Springsteen is called The Boss because he is the best. I am not the best. See, how that works? You don't walk around and say "Osama bin Laden was the best terrorist." There is no such thing as a good terrorist. Get it?

Now, if the survivor comes up to you and you are talking about it and he or she says "I lost my mom but at least she is not suffering anymore" then feel free to make a comment. That is an opening. You can say something at that point. Still, avoid the best. Maybe "I am sorry for your loss. Its good that she is not in pain." See, still not using the best.

You think I make this crap up? When I lost my dad, my aunt said it was for the best. WTF? I lost my dad. I was 29 years old. He was 63. I'm sorry. Anytime someone does before 70 its not for the best. Its not even good. Its a life unlived. Its potential lost. At 63 my dad was still 10 times smarter than me. He accomplished more in his last year of life than I did in my first 20. What exactly is good about it? Sure, he had Parkinsons and some bullshit leukemia that I have never heard of. But his brain worked. His body worked when he needed it to. He managed to walk me down the aisle at my wedding. He was there when I graduated from law school. Fuck that crap. Its not for the best. Yeah, and I am bitter. I know.

2. Thou shalt not post on Facebook before the closest living relative. Yes you, dumbass who can't get off Facebook. (And I know some of you are reading this through Facebook or through a link from Facebook. Don't take it personally. If I am still your friend on Facebook it means you didn't do this.) Look, when someone dies, it sucks. But it sucks more for the people who are closest.

Anyone who has lost someone knows what I mean. Sure, when my grandfather passed away, I was sad. It sucked. But you know what? It sucked for my mom 10 times more. When a friend's mom passed away, it sucked. And I know he had it so much worse than I did. When a client's son recently passed away, I was sad. Maybe its lame for me to be sad, but I was. But I sure as hell know that my client had it a million times worse than I had it.

If your aunt passes away, its sad. Aw...I feel for you. However, your aunts kids are much worse off than you are. Again, personal experience. How dare you announce to everyone what a loss you have had. How about giving those of us who were her children a chance to process it. The morning she passed away? Really? Screw you. Yeah, you had a loss. Yeah, you need sympathy. I am sure it was so hard for you. Oh wait. You didn't bother coming to the funeral but you had to get all of the sympathy from your Facebook friends? If you don't go to the funeral, then don't bother telling everyone how sad you are and dont but that BS on Facebook.

3. Thou shalt not be a jackass over the estate. I don't know which is worse - people fighting in a divorce or people fighting over someone's estate. Look, there is a good reason for a will. It makes sense to have one. I highly suggest it and would be happy to recommend a good estate planning attorney near you. I know one in almost every state. But not everything is covered in a will or a trust.

For example, lets say you have a will that gives your money to A and B. Great. What about the knick-knacks in the house? Those little tchotchkes need to be given to someone. So, when you find a picture of your sibling as a baby, GIVE HIM THE FUCKING PICTURE. It doesn't matter if you like your sibling or not. Its just human decency. What are you going to do with a picture of your sibling? Throw it away. Yeah, thats environmentally friendly. Oh wait, no its not. And Goodwill doesn't want that crap. Unless your sibling is Diane Lane or Adam Levine or some other famous person that people of the opposite sex would find attractive, no one wants that stupid picture. Oh, well, no one except your sibling!

Those books on the bookshelf? Yeah, I know. So meaningful that you don't even know what they are for. Trust me - the sibling who wants it wants it for a reason. Do you really think anyone else cares about a PhD thesis on the chemical structure of some chemical thing that 10 people in the world understand? NO!!!! Am I clear? NO ONE CARES. Again, except the sibling. Give him the damn book. And that 40 year old book? Yep, no one wants that either. It has no value. Just man up (or woman up) and give it to him. Are you that much of a bastard?

4. Thou shalt not tell anyone not to come to a funeral. This should not be a surprise to anyone, but apparently it is: the funeral is not about the living. Its a way to honor the dead. Go look it up.

Every single religion. Even the nonsense cults agree that a funeral is a way to honor the dead. Again, nothing about the living there. Even the Wyoming Funeral Directors Association say its a way to honor and remember the deceased. (Yes, Wyoming has a funeral directors association. I don't know how many members they have - 5? 10? But it exists. Google it.)

Thus, if you won't go to a funeral because little Jackie is going to be there and you don't like little Jackie then you are an asshole. A big one. Yep. That means you think the funeral is about you. It isn't. And it also means that you don't care enough about the deceased to show your respects. Yep. There are no ifs, ands or buts about this. If you can't act like an adult for 30 minutes, then you shouldn't be there. (See commandment 5 below.) I don't care if you think Jackie is a loser. At least Jackie cares enough to show up. In my book, that makes Jackie a pretty good person.

You want to grieve? Sit shiva. Go dance a jig. Do whatever it is that folks do. I don't know. I don't really get the whole grieving process. I suck at it. Big time. Yep, I still don't think I have properly grieved for my dad and its been 8 1/2 years. I know. I suck at it. But there is a process that you can go through. The funeral isn't about you. Clear?

5. Thou shalt say something to the people who go to the funeral. Yes, its for people who can act grown up. You don't have to be a grown up. I remember being about 11. A friend's dad passed away. Talk about sucking for someone. My mom took 3 friends and me to the funeral. We wore our black suits. (Yes, you MUST wear a black suit to a funeral if you are a man and a black outfit if you are a woman. There are no exceptions. You don't own a black suit? Buy one. Keep it in your closet. Try it on once a year. And no sandals. Are we 12 and in middle school? Sure, sandals can be classy and dressed up. Not at a funeral.) We sat quietly and were there to support our friend and pay our respects to his dad. I didn't understand much of a Catholic funeral at the time. But I acted like a grown up.

So, when someone you love dies, and it will happen, then you need to go up and say something to the people who cared about your loved one enough to show up. I don't care if some douchebag from high school that you hate shows up. Man up and say "Thanks for coming. It means a lot to me." I don't care if it doesn't mean jackshit to you. Do it. Its the right thing to do. Again, its not about you. Its about the deceased. Do you mean to tell me that your mom wouldn't want you thanking someone for coming to an event? I know better. Every mom teaches that to her kids. Its learned in freaking Kindergarten. Its one of the very basic concepts of civilization - thank people.

Remember the good times and not the bad times. I know its easy to say. And I know I don't do this all the time. I think of my mom in her bed before she passed away instead of her playing soccer in the Old Timers Game. I remember my dad needing help to the bathroom instead of the drive to Virginia in his Corvette. Its hard. But I think its the right thing to do. And as of tonight, I am going to try it.

One final note: Oh, and when I die, if you are reading this, let me be clear: party. Big ole party. I don't want people sitting around crying over me. My life is not a perfect life. I fuck up plenty. Just ask anyone who knows me or knew me. Seriously, find the guys on Facebook who knew me in Freehold when I was in elementary school or when I got kicked out of middle school. Find the folks who knew me in San Diego in high school. Find people in Sacramento. I fuck up. I admit it. I don't want people sitting around saying "Oh he was such a great guy." Do I do good things once in a while? Sure. Have I done something great? Nope. No cure for cancer. No way to fix a broken heart. So do me a favor, come to my house after the funeral, bring some food, turn on the music, and enjoy yourselves.

One final, final note: seriously. Follow these 5 commandments. Its not because I say so. Its because its the human, decent thing to do.

The R Word

2011-04-28T14:58:00.000-07:00

Okay, another rant. People just bug me these days. I don't know why. Maybe I am more sensitive than normal. Maybe its that time of the year. (Oh, don't pretend to be offended by that. Its not offensive.) Maybe I just don't have patience. Maybe people are just dumber than normal.

Let me start with what I posted on my Facebook page last week. There is some douche who has a radio show in Sacramento. He thinks he is funny. And he can be funny. He has an intern and a producer. And by producer I mean a marble-mouthed dweeb who can't complete a sentence in English without sounding like the teacher in Peanuts. Seriously. I don't know how you make a living on the radio if you can't fucking enunciate. (Trying spelling enunciate correctly. Its a bitch. They should put that in the Spelling Bee. It sure wasn't on my speak and spell.) Anyway, these guys apparently make a good living on the radio, better than most of us make. But apparently they think calling people a retard is funny.

Why is it not funny? For the same reason its not funny to call someone a "n***er" or a "sp**" or a "f**" a la Kobe Bryant. Its not funny to make fun of someone for something that they cannot control that differentiates them. Sorry. Its just not. If I were to walk around and start dropping the N word on folks, I would have my ass kicked. And rightfully so. As a matter of fact, I would kick my own ass if I used that word. I would lift my leg and smack myself in my ample rear. And I would deserve it.

But, its worse to call someone a retard. Why? I mean, after all, its just a name, right? With this word, what I shall now call the "r" word, you are making fun of people who, by their very nature, cannot defend themselves. Sorry, most folks who are mentally challenged cannot have an argument with you about why you a worthless piece of crap who should go for a long walk off of a short pier. They don't have the mental capacity for it. Just like some people cannot change their race or nationality, these folks cannot take a pill to fix whatever you think is wrong with them.

So why can I call these dweebs names or make fun of this dickweed's lack of ability to speak clearly? Because you can control being a dumbass. You can control how you speak, unless you have a stutter. You can control the jokes you make about people and what you call them. You can learn not to be panty-waste. And if you think you are so funny and that making these jokes are funny, I would be more than happy to sit down with you and play snaps. Trust me, I will win. There isn't much I can do, but I am pretty good at the insults.

There is a lot that is funny. My ability to sit down and eat chocolate cupcakes is funny. The fact that Baby Got Back was a song, or that it was a hit, is funny. Jokes about JaFatboy Russell are funny. Jokes about Donald Trump's hair are funny. Jerry Seinfeld is funny. Family Guy is freaking hilarious. We can agree on most of this. Jokes about someone not being so smart or having a mental illness just aren't funny. I don't know why people think its funny. Especially those folks who are in a position of being able to use their words to communicate with people.

I just' dont get it. I think we should start a campaign. A campaign to kick the crap out of douches who don't get it. These are just assholes. Sorry. There is no other way to put it.

Back to your regular programming.

WTF is wrong with people

2011-04-26T20:30:00.000-07:00

Okay, I have to get this off my chest. People are whiners. No, not every person. But a lot of people. Maybe even most people. Not most people. But a fair number of people.

Lets see. People whine about today's kids. What, exactly, is wrong with today's kids? Sure, the boys walk around with their pants around their ankles. They apparently think we want to see their dirty tighty-whities. We don't. Trust me. The girls think that shorts should stop at such a spot that they look like swimsuits. A little extra fabric wouldn't kill them. It would probably help.

But adults, and this means folks of my generation too, seem to think that every kid out there is causing trouble. My dad once told me that each generation has it a bit harder growing up then the one before. Sure, they have iPods, iPads, iPhones, i(P)whatevers. They have computers, that internet thingy and all of its tubes that Al Gore invented.

But they also have a lot of crap to deal with. I can barely do the math homework for my 4th grader. I can't keep up with it. They have to deal with making mistakes and the whole world seeing them. People putting things up on YouTube or blogging (ironic, isn't it?) or Facebooking about it. Heck, we screwed up and our parents knew and maybe a few friends. Kids screw up now and everyone and their mother sees it. Plus about a billion folks in China and India. Make a mistake now as a kid and have someone videotape it and it could affect getting in to college or a job.

And they have to deal with stereotypes. They walk down the street and suddenly they are drug dealers because their pants sag. Or they are gang bangers for wearing red or blue or whatever the color is. (I am pretty sure there is no rainbow gang, but that probably isn't far behind in being claimed by these perfect adults.) The kids don't show proper respect or they aren't taught manners.

Here is an idea: maybe they just are having a rough time. Maybe dad died and mom is working two jobs. Maybe they don't have a role model. But what do these folks do? Do they offer to help out? No. They just criticize the kids and lump them all together. I am sure it makes them feel better. Wait, let's try this: All adults who whine about kids are just big fat whiners. All adults who want to stereotype kids are kidists. (Think racists but with kid instead of race. Get it?) All adults who do this are douchebags. There. I think that is perfect.

But there are more whiners. What about those people who complain about where they live? You don't like your town - move. Ya, you Joe and Gavin Madouche. Sacramento isn't cool enough for you? Go back to your failing casino in Vegas. Oh, but this isn't limited to rich dweebs who don't know how to run a professional sports franchise. I get people who live in my town who complain its turning into LA. Really? LA? I like the sun, but Elk Grove is to LA as food is to electricity. (I learned that by helping my 4th grader with his homework!) They aren't even in the same category. If you don't like where you live, because we live in such a great country, you can move your fat, useless arse out of my town. If you need help, as my mom used to say, I will pack your shmatas. (Yiddish for rags.)

Then there is stupid tv show called "Pregnant in Heels." Some its some chick who makes her living telling pregnant women what to do when they are pregnant. My guess is that it is rich people who pay for this. Normal folks can't afford to hire her and her fake accent. She sounds like a mix between fingernails down a chalk board and Madonna during her fake British accent phase.

So first this chick talks about how great it is that men buy a "push present" that is a diamond bracelet for their wives who deliver a baby. WTF? A push present? Your present is a baby. Yep, I am pretty sure that is a present. Stop being a whiner and expecting a present for delivering a baby. That's nonsense.

But then chick goes on about how she has a child, but apparently can't get pregnant. So, according to her, the only way to finish a family is to have another baby. As in, get pregnant again. Really? That is the only way to have a family? Um, on behalf of my three boys - F___ YOU! There are plenty of ways to have a family and getting pregnant is just one of them. That doesn't mean someone else's family is not as great as yours. You are a bitch if you think that getting pregnant makes a woman a mother. You clearly don't get it and you should go jump in the Hudson River. My wife was just as much a mother when we adopted our 3 boys as she is now after delivering our baby girl. If you don't understand that, then you are dumber than the other folks who whine about where they live or about "today's kids." You don't get it, you never will and your show should be cancelled solely because you are a schmuck.

That's all for now. More soon, I am sure.

A rant for me- cancer sucks

2011-03-13T21:04:00.000-07:00

Some folks may be offended by this one. Some people may find it rude. There is profanity in it. I don't really care right now. I would suggest you stop reading now.

A few days ago on Facebook, I updated my status to "Dear Cancer: F*** you. Sincerely, Me." That wasn't right. I really meant "Dear Cancer: FUCK YOU. You are a mother fucking, son-of-a-bitch, fargin icehole (from Johnny Dangerously). You should be annihilated. You serve no useful purpose. You are a piece of crap. Sorry, crap. That is offensive to you. Sincerely, Most of society."

I started this just after getting back from what turned out to be my last visit with my mom. She closed her eyes after we left and didn't come back. Sure, she lived a few more weeks, but she didn't live. After all, just breathing isn't life. There has to be some quality to it.

Its interesting how this has affected me over the last 5 months. This was started five months ago today. It is ending now. Those 5 months have taught me so much, about me, my family, my friends. Things that I guess we all have to learn. I am just not sure I wanted to learn them before I hit 40.

My mom always told me that she would want someone to "pull the plug" on her. I always told her I couldn't do it. WRONG! When I saw her there and I knew she was in pain, suffering, I could have done it. I know now. I didn't know at 20, 25, 30, or even 35. Its impossible to know. But when you watch a loved one lying there and you realize she isn't the same person she was, you understand how people do it.

I also came to realize that there is value in physician assisted suicide. You don't have to like it. You don't have to agree with it. But when a sane, rational person knows there is an end, and its coming soon, that person should be able to go out on his or her own terms. I am sure my mom didn't want her last weeks to be the way the were, lying in hospice, unable to care for herself, unable to do the basic functions. If she had a choice, she would have gone another way. I think we all would. And why shouldn't we give people that option? I can't come up with a good reason.

I also realize we make decisions in haste in this life. Someone upsets us and we change things. Maybe we disown someone or we say something to someone we regret. Telling your brother that you are upset with your kid, especially an adult kid, is unproductive. Sorry, but what happens between a parent and adult child should be between the parent and adult child. So if I pissed off my mom, I am sorry. But that was our business. And no one else should be involved. That means you don't tell me I shouldn't be there for her funeral.

When we know its the last time we are going to see someone, we say things that need to be said - or needed to be said. Its those last moments when we are fortunate enough to say "I love you" to someone. That fixes everything. Those three words can't always fix problems, but when a loved one is dying, those three words can erase a decade of pain. My mom wasn't perfect, but neither was I. We fought. We saw things differently. She tried to protect me when I was younger. I tried to protect her when she got older. She didn't like it, but that was my decision to make and I wouldn't change it. It caused friction, but at the end of the day, when she called, I went. And when I had to leave, I said I love you. No one else was there to hear it, to see it, or to understand it. But when you have told people all of the issues, it makes it difficult, no impossible, for others to understand that dynamic and forgiveness.

It has been a challenge. Some days are good. Some days are harder. I wasn't overly close to my mom, especially the last 8 years or so. But I don't know that I needed to be. She understood the sacrifices that my dad made for us. I didn't make the same sacrifices, but sacrifices had to be made. And she got that. She may not have liked it, but she got it. I am sure of that. I just wish she could have told me. Because now I can't have that discussion with her - or my dad. Its odd. I don't have a parent to call, to talk to. It feels funny.

I know some good has come from it. I put together a fundraiser for her. We raised awareness of breast cancer, raised money, and did good for the community. She would be proud of that. But I also know that some "friends" haven't come through the way I would have expected them to. No calls, no emails. No offers of help or even a nice word. On the other hand, complete strangers have come out and helped, have gotten involved and, dare I say, become friends.

Its odd how death affects us. I am still pissed at cancer. I can't think of too many things crappier. Parkinsons, autism, cancer. That is my top three crappy things that suck. Absolutely no good comes from any of them.

So there it is. 5 months after I started with "Dear Cancer: Fuck you" I am still there. Cancer can still go kiss my ass. But I have also learned from this - death should be on our terms, even though it is often not. Parents and children have a special relationship and no one can understand that relationship, including siblings. Forgiveness should be given out more readily. And I am going to try to be a better person.

Tucker Carlson is a Douche

2010-12-29T20:03:00.000-08:00

Dude doesn't even qualify to be a douchebag. That would be too good for him because then he would be useful. Wait, even a douche can be useful. After all, we all remember the Summer's Eve commercials from the late 80s and early 90s. Two women walking on a beach and one looks at the other and says "Mom, can I ask you a personal question? Do you douche?" So what is more useless than a douche? Oh, I know, an idiotic television personality who thinks he is smart or funny or something.

For those of you who missed it, and judging by the ratings that would be most of America, Tucker Carlson says Michael Vick should have been executed for his dogfighting. And in case you have been living in a hole for the last 4 years, or you get your news from Fox News, Michael Vick is a football player who ran a dogfighting ring.

Let me preface this with the fact that I am a dog lover. I always had dogs growing up. I still have dogs. My first dog was Marshmallow, a white Great Pyrennes. Dogs are cool. I also think dogfighting is a heinous crime and one that should be punished. Dogs are, for the most part, defenseless from what we want to do to them. So if some jackass wants to put his dog in a ring with another dog that is going to attack it, the dog can't really say no or call CPS. And if said jackass wants to kill his own dog because the dog isn't a good enough fighter, as Vick did, then the dog doesn't have much of a chance. So, yeah, dogfighting sucks and it is for jackasses.

Vick has no excuse. He saw his first dog fight at 7. Sorry. That must have been a crappy childhood. I couldn't imagine what it would be like to grow up and see dogs fighting and killing each other. Then you have to watch humans bet on this and get enjoyment out of it. Kids growing up watching this must have rough childhoods. I get that. But that is no excuse for doing it as a grown man.

Especially a multi-millionaire who can surround himself with lawyers, agents, PR folks (I recommend Phil Reese at www.prprnewyork.com), and any number of professionals who would tell him that dog fighting is dumb and should be avoided. I know your "boys" are into it and want you to finance it. They probably want you to finance their pimping and pandering and their dealing in the drug trade. Heck, they may want you to finance their purchase of blood diamonds. But you gotta say no.

So on to this Tucker Carlson douche. First, any guy who has as first name that is also a last name can't be trusted. Just go with it. Tucker is a garment maker. I guess this Tucker makes garments of crap. Or maybe his garments are crap. This guy said that Michael Vick is some creepy rich football player who should be executed for dogfighting.

Apparently, Tucker Carlson is perfect. He must live in a glass house. I wonder what is is like to be perfect. Apparently, if you go to some swanky boarding school in New Hampshire and are an heir to some fortune, you are perfect. Oh well, except for that rape accusation made against you that you say is false and that time you talked about the allegedly gay man who you beat up after you claim he touched your junk. I guess when you beat people up and are accused of rape you are perfect.

For the rest of us, we make mistakes. Who among us has not screwed up? I know I have plenty of times. Yet, somehow my friends (my actual friends and not those people who say they are friends but never come around unless they need something) and family forgive me. No one has wanted to see me killed over my mistakes, thank goodness. Heck, we all screw up. Not one among us is perfect. If you think you are perfect, you should take a look in the mirror, unless you are like Casper and don't have a reflection.

Look, I hate what Vick did. But he paid his price. The court sentenced him. He completed that sentence and from everything I read, he was a model citizen while incarcerated. He knows what he did is wrong. He has to live with that every day. He goes and talks to kids about what he did. He can't own a dog and has to explain to his kids why they can't have a dog.

When you screw up, you know you screwed up and you have to deal with it every day. The bigger this mistake, the more you have to deal with it. But the great thing about our country and about the people in our country is that we believe in second chances. You have to do your time. You have to admit you were wrong. And it sucks admitting when you made a mistake. It especially sucks when you have to admit it to those closest to you - like your wife. It sucks when you know you can't blame other people. But you man up, admit your mistake and take your punishment. And when it is done, you get a second chance. That is how it works.

Vick screwed up more than most of us ever will. And he paid his price. He went to prison. He had to file for bankruptcy. He has lost the respect of a lot of people. And every day he looks in the mirror and realizes he screwed up. And he realizes he is lucky that he has a second chance to make a living playing a game.

Tucker Carlson has no place telling anyone that Vick should have been executed. Maybe Tucker (anyone else notice that it rhymes with *ucker) should have had the crap kicked out of him when he beat up that guy in the 80s. Maybe Tucker should be taken out back and flogged for being a host on Fox with no actual credentials. Maybe he should be tied to a post for making such an idiotic statement.

I get it. He is paid to have an opinion. And the more outrageous his opinion, the more people talk about him. And the more they talk about him, the more money he can make. But at some point, you just have to realize that you sound like a complete fool. You sound like you don't understand our system of justice and you don't understand our country. Tucker should go back to his rich private schools and his completely out of touch society and stay away from the rest of America. He has no clue about how real people deal with real problems and while Vick isn't like most of us, we can relate much better to a guy who had a rough upbringing, made it big, lost it bigger, and is now making a comeback. I don't know anyone who can relate to a snotty, boarding school educated punk who has never had a real job in his day or done anything that is productive for the rest of society.

Give Vick a 2nd chance. Give Tucker a timeout - a permanent timeout from television and spouting his nonsense filled hatred.

People can be good

2010-12-19T12:53:00.000-08:00

I know my last post was about how people suck. I have been thinking about that. And I was all set to write about more dumb things people do. But I decided too much negativity is a bad thing. So while I will still rant, I am going to try to put a more positive spin on it. This post is in that light. I encourage everyone to read it carefully.

Okay, I admit it. I have been a hypocrite. I know. So today I decided to do something about it. What better day to do it than my youngest son's 7th birthday? It also doubles as the 7 year anniversary of my law firm. So, it seemed fitting. Start the new year, at least the business new year, on a new note.

For years, a friend of mine has posted about "The Untied Way." (No, its not the United Way. It is the untied way - I do know how to spell - usually.) I have read the emails and thought "Huh, that is so nice." But I haven't done anything about it. Heck, I have even forwarded the email to other people. But, I never followed up on it myself.

So, today I am sitting at Starbucks with my son. We are enjoying a muffin and coffee. Well, I am enjoying the coffee. He is enjoying the muffin and an Odwalla. He says he wants to do something for other people. He wants to buy a whole bunch of coffees and pass them out to the homeless people. Great idea, but I can't take 20 coffees in my car. So, what to do? Then it hit me - the Untied Way.

Look, it has been a hard year. I have f-d up more than I care to admit to. I have been a crappy father at time. I have been a crappy husband. I have been a crappy friend. I know it. I have screwed up more in the last 6 months than in the last 6 years. Heck, I have screwed up more in the last 6 months than I did in middle school and high school combined and I was the kid whose parents were told I needed to find a new school for 8th grade since they weren't letting me back to the public school. (You can find the school in one of my Facebook groups. Its funny.)

And so I have done some soul searching. I have tried to figure out what has gone wrong. I still don't know. But I am working on it. (And no, I am not blaming anyone but me. I may be pissed at people and may want to go kick the living crap out of people, but I have to take responsibility for decisions I made.) And I realized today, sitting with my son, there but for the grace of God, go I. I am fortunate that my screw up is something I can deal with. I can take steps to repair what I did, even if it can never be fixed. I can do the right thing even when I haven't always done the right thing. And the right thing starts with setting a good example.

My dad set a good example for me. His dad did before him. My mom's dad set a good example. And we have all gone through tough times. They all had rough patches in life and problems to deal with. My grandfathers had the Great Depression. My dad's dad sold toilet supplies and in WWII worked on building the bomb. I don't mean sitting in a lab, I mean actually building it. My dad had to deal with, among other things, me. I was not an easy child. (The best story being the counselor in 10th grade who told my parents that I was an underachiever because I didn't know what I wanted to do in life. My dad told the psychologist he was full of it because he didn't know what he wanted to do in life until he was in his mid-20s. Want proof? The guy had a Ph.D in pharmaceutical chemistry, yeah that, and ended up in business development.) Yet, somehow, they managed to set good examples, although I now know they weren't perfect. And they always managed to show that they cared about other people. I don't recall seeing any of them making donations and I don't recall any of them talking about it. But after my dad passed away, looking through his things, I knew he had always been giving.

So, I have a chance with Miles to set a good example. He wants to do the coffee, but it just isn't going to happen. So I loaded the kids into the car and drove to my local ATM. I took out enough money that I thought about it. And I drove over near the local homeless shelter. I drove down an alley and saw a guy there. I handed him a bill. He looked at me, first like I was crazy, and then said thank you. I wished him a Merry Christmas and drove a bit farther. Again, I handed the guy a bill and wished him a Merry Christmas. Well, word spreads quickly when you are in that part of town and giving out money. There were even kids who came up to me. In just minutes, it was gone. I had people coming up to me and asking even after I ran out.

When we were done, Miles asked me if he could open a lemonade stand in the summer and give the money he makes to the homeless folks. I told him we could do that. It made him smile.

I don't know what these folks are going to do with the money. Some might buy a cup of coffee. Some might buy crack. Some might buy a raincoat. I don't know. And, I don't care. It isn't a lot. But it means a lot to them.

The point is not to judge what they are doing with the money. The point is to show them that someone cares. The point is to remind myself that, but for some different decisions in life, it could be me with the bags of clothes walking the street. It could be someone I know, someone I care about. It was a reminder that I have been lucky in life. And when you are lucky, you need to not screw that up. We don't have to be perfect, but we have to understand that there isn't a big gap between what we have (and, look, if you are reading this, you have - and while it may not be what you want, you still have more than the folks who I saw today who had everything they owned in a bag with them) and the folks who do not have.

Everyone screws up. Some of us are lucky enough not to screw up too much. Some of us aren't as lucky and screw up big time. When we do, we need to take responsibility for our actions and remember how lucky we are. Today, this served as a reminder to me. And it gave me a chance to show my son how we can give to those who are less fortunate.

I would encourage everyone to read The Untied Way. It has given me some perspective this year. It has reminded me that I am one of the lucky ones. It has also reminded me that I need to ask forgiveness from those I have hurt and be thankful for what I have. While it is here today, it may not be tomorrow.

People Suck

2010-12-10T20:41:00.000-08:00

Its been a while since I blogged. Probably too long. Or for those of you who have read this before, maybe you want a longer wait. (Warning: Not everything that is here is kid friendly so don't read this with your 8 year old around. As Charles Barkley said, I am not a role model.)

WTF is up with people? I seriously want to go kick someone's ass. Not "ha ha that was a funny high school girl fight." I mean actually kick someone's ass. And the ass of said person is large enough that I would try to kick it out the other side. I mean, douchebag's like this don't have male genitalia so its not like I would ruin something. But, before I get there, a few other things that bother me.

If you own a car, and you have a freaking driver's license, why don't you learn how to drive? Sure, we all get in accidents. I understand. In fact, it is what helps me pay the bills. So, I am not anti-accident. Except when it comes to me.

I am driving tonight and there is an accident in the lane I am in. The cars are stopped. Everyone sees this. Everyone in the other lane lets cars in. I am the next car in my lane. My turn signal has been on for some time. I am in a big Expedition with my lights on. The only person who couldn't see me should have been the blind guy walking down the sidewalk. No, really, there was a blind guy walking down the sidewalk. But the dweeb in the car in the right lane continues to come fast and honks at me. Fine, I dont want to crash my car into his POS car. (Go find the prior post with the link to Adam Sandler. I am not in the mood to find it again.) Then this old lady comes driving down the road and does the same thing. Finally, the nice guy behind lets me in.

I drive up to the old woman. I honk at her and she puts her hands up like she doesn't know what I am talking about. Really, lady? You didnt see me get behind you after you refused to freaking let me in? Do I have "IDIOT" written across my forehead? You know you were a bitch and I know you were a bitch. In a civilized society, you would apologize for being a bitch. I would smile and wave and still think you are a bitch, but at least a bitch who apologized. You would go from a zero in my book to like a 4. An apology means a lot.

I had every intention of going up to the guy in the car. But, that dumbass ran the red light at the next intersection. Look, buddy, I know you clearly have vision problems since you couldn't see my car. I know you clearly don't care about your POS car because the guys in that gum commercial (Big Red, maybe) could pick up your car and move it and you clearly didn't care if I ran it over. I know you don't care about what happens to you since you were fine with letting me smush you like a monster truck runs over one of those flattened junkers. But, running a red light? Really? You think that is a good idea? How about the innocent folks who you could have injured or killed because you are in a rush to get to your Losers Anonymous class? Or maybe you were on your way to "I have a bad hair piece and women won't talk to me" club? I don't know and I don't care. I just know that you are a hazard and should never be on the road.

Then there are people who just don't get it. Look, if you don't like how I am doing something, tell me. Its not that hard. Dont pretend its not a problem and then drop it on me at the last minute. I know I am not perfect. These days I am pretty fucking far from perfect. I saw perfect once from two light years away. That is the closest I have gotten. And last month, it moved to four light years away. And there was a black hole between me and perfect. But, give me a break. A little warning before you drop a bomb on someone, especially a friend, would be nice. Is that really asking for too much?

But beyond those groups of people (oh and dude who cannot drive, you better stay off the roads near my house because I am pretty sure one day I will see your picture in the paper with your car in a house and I do not mean the garage), there are bigger a-holes. These are the greedy son-of-a-bitch bleep-sucking m-f'ing bastards whose ass I would like to kick. No, wait, whose asses I would like to kick. Multiple folks in this group. I can think of at least 6.

Look, if you are greedy and want to scam folks, fine. Move to your own private island and scam yourselves. After all, its the only action you will be getting. But don't scam me. And really dont scam innocent folks. Sure, I know con men go back a long way. I like reading books about them. But don't do it. Go try to hustle at pool or basketball. Oh wait, you dumbasses are too old and too pathetic to be able to play a real sport like that. You just think you can go ahead and rip people off. Sure, maybe you got away with it for a while. But you always get caught. Always. And the punishment is always bad.

A word to the wise: if you are in a group of people and you cannot figure out who the mark is in a group, it is probably you. And yes, this applies to me as well. I should have bleeping remembered it. Sometimes we get too cocky and too caught up to realize we are the mark. And it sucks when you finally figure it out, especially when you get stuck with consequences because of it. It fucking sucks and it pisses me off. We have to take responsibility for our actions, but when you have been lied to and played, it doesn't make you feel any better taking responsibility. It does create a strong desire to go pummel someone. No, not just anyone. Thankfully, I would never actually do it because one of my four or five friends (that is total) would talk me out of it.

I know I ain't that smart. Of course, I was recently told I am not as smart as I think I am. Since I currently think of myself as having an IQ of about 70, I think that is impossible. Sure, I can put together words and talk off the cuff. But don't get the ability to talk confused with being smart. I have seen a lot of smart people who can't put together a sentence. And I know a lot of dumb asses who talk so much you would think they were getting paid by the letter. But even when you aren't that smart, it is no fun to be the mark. It sucks. It bites. It blows. And none of those in the good way. Only in the "dang it, this blows" way.

So there you go. People who suck. Not everyone sucks. Some people are very nice. Some people are good. Some people need a reminder that they are good people. And doing something bad doesn't mean you are a bad person. We all f up. I know I have more times than I can count. What matters is how you respond. Are you going to be the bitch who doesn't let someone in and won't apologize or are you going to be the person who says "I fucked up and need to make this right?" I choose the second option.

School Libraries

2010-05-17T20:18:00.000-07:00

Okay, lets be clear: I am not a big library guy. I think the last time I was in a library Ronald Reagan was acting. For my younger readers, Ronald Reagan was an actor before he became President. Wait, he was Governor of California before he became President. And he was an actor before he became Governor. Of course, the difference between Reagan and the current California governor, also a former actor, is that Reagan could act. Oh, and he could lead. But that is a whole different discussion. (And, no, don't post your cheap shots at a dead guy on my blog. I won't publish them! Show some respect for the dead, unless its one of my very funny White Gloved dead guy references.)

Anyway, I don't frequent the libraries. I know where the library is. Its that big building in town with a lot of books. Actually, in my town, it is a big building with a lot of books that had to be delayed because the 2nd story couldn't hold all of the books. Nice engineering. There also happen to be libraries at my kids' school. And I think at most schools. Although, I am pretty sure most kids at an elementary school call it a "lie-berry" and not a "library."

As you know, we have budget problems in this state. Our elected leaders have had to make decisions. You know, confirm a Lt. Governor, a job that pays six figures a year and does nothing, or give more money to our kids. The elected leaders, of course, confirmed a Lt. Governor. Nice. But, our budget problems are bigger than that. We have to make cuts in education. I know teachers are going to lose their jobs. The teachers union agreed to a couple of furlough days to save some jobs. The district is cutting stuff left and right. And left. Then more to the right. Then to the left, to the left, to the left. (Come on, you know you are picturing Beyonce as you read that.)

But then we get to the libraries. Did you know that libraries at schools have unionized jobs? Isn't that a bit like lawyers working for the state unionizing? Oh wait, they already have a union. Sorry. The librarians are part of the "Damn it, do it our way" Union - Local 666. Mess with them and you end up under Giants Stadium in a barrel. Don't believe me? The Teamsters didn't take out Hoffa - the librarians did!

So, the librarians are being cut. I feel bad. Really, I do. I don't like to see people lose their jobs. It is bad for them. It is bad for the economy. It is bad for my kids. I get that. But, sometimes, when life gives you lemons, make lemonheads, you know that delicious candy. In this case, the librarians decided to ignore Peter, Paul and Mary and they found out the fruit of the lemon tree is impossible to eat!

The librarian union decided that if they couldn't work in the library, than dang it, no one could. No teachers. No administrators. No parents. No volunteers. No no-one, dang it. Why, the kids are much better off with no library than a library with volunteers, after all. I mean, do we really want kids learning the Dewey Decimal system? Do we really want them to read books, explore the world and learn about new things? Of course not. Next maybe the librarians will decide to have a book burning day!

I know, it is in their contract. The district bargained for it. Well, first, lets start with the fact that school board officials routinely vote for things without actually understanding what it is. They have no impulse control. Second, the union could waive a clause in the contract. It is possible. Heck, even Donald Fehr, the dweeb who runs the MLB players union, waived a provision or two in their BS contract. But, not the librarians. Nope, dang it. They aren't waiving anything, although one wonders if librarians get their jobs back, if they may be waving the black flag - as in the roach motel. (Roaches check in, but they don't check out.) (And no, I didn't have to look up that slogan!)

Memo to the union: if you want parents to feel for you, you need to throw us a bone once in a while. How about you let us volunteer to keep the libraries open so our students can use it. I promise you this - if you don't give on this issue, I will never, ever, ever offer you any support. I know its not a rank and file issue, but a problem with union leadership. By the way, union leadership ranks up there with Aunt Jemima Light. It is just not possible.

So union leadership: how about you remember the purpose of your members? Kids. Kids. Kids. You need to help the kids. Helping the kids means you let parents volunteer. If you are too clueless to get that, then you need to be fired. Now. Jackasses.

Its Frickin Fast Food

2010-03-01T20:42:00.000-08:00

I don't know about the rest of you, but once in a while I like me some good old fashioned fast food. I want two all beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onion on a sesame seed bun. I want some Of The Taco fries. Man, those are good. I do not, repeat, NOT, want that crazy King guy. Have you seen the newest commercial? He is running through an office breaking windows to give someone food. WTF? Seriously. Dude looks like Chester. Yes, I mean Chester the Molester. He is one scary looking big headed made up dude. Seriously, the King makes Jack look like a normal person. I expect to see the King on some Discovery Health show: "Really tall, scary looking, big headed people."

Anyway, tonight we hit the KFC. You know, this used to be called Kentucky Fried Chicken. Well, we have the KFC/A&W. I like the A&W. I am a big root beer fan. Root beer is good. Very, very good. Anyway, so they changed the name from Kentucky Fried Chicken to KFC to apparently appear healthier. Great. Good for them. Healthy is good. I appreciate a little good health once in a while. An apple a year keeps the doctor with fear. (Okay, not that funny, but its late and I am tired and still hungry.) But, this place was ridiculous tonight.

First, lets be clear. They call themselves quick serve restaurants. I call it fast food. The emphasis is on fast, not food. I like food. But if I wanted slow food, I would go to a sit down restaurant. You know, a place with lots of options, a waiter, tables, chairs and a price over $3.99 for a full meal. I want my food fast. Hence, the name fast food.

Second, I want what you have on your limited menu. Let's be honest about this: KFC has about 3 choices. Sure, I can get my chicken on a plate or in a sandwich, but its the same chicken. They throw it on mashed potatoes and call it a bowl. But its all just chicken. You either get it fried or you get it grilled. It is KFC after all. This one has burgers too, since it is also an A&W. But that limits it to about 5 choices. Its just a matter of how it is served. But it is still all the same.

So, tonight we went to get dinner. The misses wanted grilled chicken. Lets get a grilled chicken wrap. Okay. Easy enough. Mashed potatoes. Done with her. Um, we have a problem. They don't have grilled chicken. Huh? Doesn't that cut the menu in half. They have nothing with grilled chicken. Um, so we get a pot pie. Fine. I want some fancy box they have. Sure. It comes with grilled chicken. They have grilled chicken for that, but apparently they cannot put it in a wrap. Don't they have knives? Can't they cut the chicken up. Its KF CHICKEN! They do not have chicken? WTF?

Fine. So we finish ordering. We then go up and pay. She takes my money. Then she says "It is going to be 4 minutes. Is that okay?" Um, what the heck am I supposed to say now? No? You have my money, but it's not okay now. Seriously? Fine, I will wait. Oh, I need to go park? Sure. I am such a nice guy. I will go park.

2 minutes go by. 3 minutes. 4 minutes. 5 minutes. 6 minutes. This is ridiculous. I go in. Waiting, waiting, waiting.............finally someone comes up to the counter. Yes, you can help me. I placed an order and would like it. They go check. Oh, they are still working on it. Apparently the food was cooked - no one could put it in a box. Really? A box? It is not rocket science. I am pretty sure a 15 year old pimply kid with braces, greasy hair and bad BO can put the food in a box. How freaking hard can it be?

So finally they give me my food. Um, memo to KFC: It is fast chicken. Get some more chicken and make it fast. Otherwise, I have absolutely no reason to eat your food - ever. I could microwave a chicken breast and have it be better than waiting for bad chicken from people who can't put it in a box!

What kind of parent are you?

2010-02-10T18:35:00.000-08:00

So, what kind of parent are you? No, I don't mean a good parent or a bad parent. That is easy to figure out. The freaks who put their kids on television shows on TLC or Discovery Health or something like that - bad parents. If your last name is Gosselin and you were on tv - bad parent. If your kid fell into the river of chocolate - bad parent. (Oh, come on, Willy Wonka, get it? The original not this Johnny Depp nonsense. Sheesh!) If your kid grows up to win the Nobel Prize - good parent. If your kid finds a cure for cancer - good parent. If you think teaching your baby to read with some piece of crap infomercial product - bad parent.

Sorry, that was kind of a long tangent. Really, I don't mean good parent or bad parent. I mean, what kind of parent are you? Apparently, this is important. To whom, I do not know. Well, it seems important to people who have word counts to meet. Yes, I mean you Mr. Newspaper reporter. Okay, so enough. What am I talking about? The Chico Press-Enterprise or whatever they call that ridiculous newspaper up in the town that used to be known for having America's #1 party school and the Sacramento Bee both apparently think its important to identify parents as either adoptive or biological.

No, wait. That is not true. They think its important to identify when people are adoptive parents. Repeatedly. As if it matters to someone. I don't recall much about writing a newspaper article, and I have never actually written a newspaper article, but I believe that they are supposed to include facts that are relevant. So, the name of the mass murderer is probably relevant. The location of a bank robbery is probably relevant. The fact that Senator Calderon failed to report donations from the insurance industry when he was the chairman of the insurance committee is definitely relevant.

The fact that Billy and Susie Homemaker adopted little Sally, who they are accused of beating, is irrelevant. Suddenly, it seems that how you ended up with a child is some indication of how you parent. There is a story in the Sacramento Bee which was apparently reprinted from the Chico Screw-Up Enterprise that starts as follows: "Police say that a 7 year old girl died Saturday after being beaten by her adoptive parents....."

Last time I checked, I didn't see a story that started: "Bristol Palin, biological daughter of Sarah Palin, had a child out of wedlock with some dweeb." (Seriously, if you remember the guy's name, you need help. Okay, I need help since its Levi Johnson.) Or how about: "Crazy Michael Savage, who can't complete a thought because of his experiment with herbs (hey, he claims to be a world famous herbal expert), the biological son of an immigrant, still has no clue about autism and families dealing with autistic children." Am I right? I mean, I didn't read last summer: "Michael Jackson, the biological child of a freakish, scary father, died after having 152 plastic surgeries, having his nose replaced with a clip and turning his skin from black in to bright white like the kid who's car had smashed so hard." (Google it if you don't get the lyrical reference. Yes, it is funny. Actually, go listen to the song. Heck, buy the CD from which the song comes from.)

Yet, somehow, when a child is adopted it is part of the story. Its like if something bad happens, the adoption must be important. The fact that Lee Harvey Oswald came out of his mother's birth canal is never reported. But the fact that these douches in Paradise adopted the child and then beat her seems to be important. Its not.

News flash: I have adopted several children. I also have a biological child. Now back to our rant.

I am not the adoptive parent of my children. Just like I am not the biological parent of my biological child. I am a parent. A father. A dad. Daddy. I may have adopted my children, but I am not an adoptive parent. It is offensive. Why not describe me as the white parent? How about the bald parent? How about if I start describing biological parents like this: Ron and Martha are the people who came out of the birth canal of Sara and James. Or maybe I can do it this way: Ron and Martha came out the woo-hoo of Sara after James had been in there.

Maybe we can go farther. Children who are born after in vitro can be those test tube babies. Or maybe those petrie dish children. You could be William and Mary, the parents of petrie dish children. Or maybe we can get more graphic? Anyone want to bet whether I can get more graphic?

And while I am picking on the fine folks in Michael Phelps favorite California city, lets be clear this is not just for newspaper folks. It is also for anyone else. School districts? I am not an adoptive parent and even if my child is adopted, it doesn't matter when you don't provide services to my kid. Doctors? Sure, it is relevant for medical history, but after that it doesn't matter.

Want to bet? Just go ask the piece of poo attorney who made the mistake of making a comment about me while my son, who happens to be adopted, was in the hospital. Hell hath no fury like a pissed off white guy who has the mouth of a sailor and the venom of me. Of course, he followed this up by also commenting about the time when my wife had a baby. That would be my biological child. Again, hell hath no fury like a pissed off white guy who has the mouth of a sailor and the venom of me. Notice its the same? That is kind of the point.

My kids are my kids. My family is my family. I don't care if they are adopted, by birth, from a test tube, fell off the moon, dropped out of a spaceship or were found in a barn. They are my kids and how we became a family is irrelevant, you insensitive, uninformed, Neanderthal. Go get a freaking clue about life and than talk to me about families and how they are formed. Until then, take your piece of crap, poorly written, uninformative article and shove it where the sun don't shine, which by the way, could be the place your next child comes out of!

My name is, My name is.........

2010-01-28T19:09:00.000-08:00

Greek Rectum. That is so not nice of me. Okay, the guys name is not Greek Rectum. But, it might as well be. Dude should be a rectal douche. Why?

So, I am working away today. And I get this call. The guy is an attorney. He practices in bankruptcy law. He would also owe a client of mine some money. Not a ton of money, but some money. She asked for a refund. They said no. I asked for a refund for her. They said no. So, it gets escalated. Remember, I sue people - and I like it.

So, he starts by explaining he wants to resolve this. Apparently his partner Flamboyant Little Thing (just trust me, the name is funny if you think about the opposite of the Big Johnson t-shirts that were popular in the early 90s) was complaining about having to spend time on this. And this partner thinks he has better things to do. At that point, the conversation went downhill. A few of the lowlights:

1. Greek says to me "Hey, bro." Um, hey? Hay is for horses. Now I know his receptionist has a John Elway like mouth, but really, is that my fault? (Okay, go Google John Elway and look at his smile. Seriously, he could play football, but he smiles like Secretariat.) And bro? Suffice it to say, I have exchanged unpleasantries with this guy before. And he calls me bro. I said, and I am not making this part up "I am not your bro, your pal, your friend or your buddy. Don't call me any of those names. I don't even like you." Look, if you have been to my house, we hang out, and I know something about you other than the fact that you are a Rectum Douche, then you can call my bro, brother, pal, buddy, ole friend, or any other similar name. If I think big, fat, hairy white a** when I hear your name, you should probably stick with calling me by my first name or Mr. X.

2. He then says to me "You are looking for coals. I am looking for diamonds on the beach." Okay, I don't know what this means. Seriously. I have no freaking clue. Diamonds on the beach? I dont know much, but I know diamonds come from underground. I have yet to find a diamond on the beach. I mean, maybe he broke out one of those $750 metal detectors and he found one when he was like 16, pasty white with his gut hanging over his Speedo and he thought he was cool, but I have never found a diamond on the beach. I am pretty sure deBeers does not get their diamonds from the beach either.

As for me, coals? I think I like coal. Its hard so you can pick it up and hurl it at people, hitting them in their twerpy little heads and making it go "thud." Of course, in some people's case, it would make the sound of a rock hitting a hollow piece of wood. I'm not saying some people who are heinys have nothing in their heads, but..........

Of course, coal + pressure = diamond. Okay, a lot of pressure. Over a long period of time. But, it still makes a diamond. So I think dude just said that I can take a decent case and turn it into a diamond. I think so. Or maybe he meant that he and his partner turn coal into diamonds in their tuchus'. I mean, these two guys are so uptight that their voices crack during their radio ads. The only thing worse would be if they threw in a one eyed attorney who can't spell and forgot to take a shower.

Seriously, I think he meant he is looking for high dollar cases. But that leads me to #3.

3. He says "I have over 2,000 active clients." He has 4 attorneys. Do the math. 500 cases per attorney, for those of you who are reading this after 10pm and don't want to do the math. There are two types of law firms: volume and quality. And the two shall never meet. Either you try to make your money on volume or you try to make a living by handling a lower number of quality cases. A quality case could be a diamond. It could be. I have never heard anyone ever refer to it as such, but I guess you could. Anyway, 500 cases per attorney means you are doing a volume practice. And when you charge a client, on average, $2,000, you are making a lot of money. Of course, you have overhead, but the gross income number looks impressive.

But, really, if an attorney have 500 active clients, how much time and attention can any one client get? Lets see, in an 8 hour day, that is 480 minutes of work. That is less than one minute per client per day. That is less than 5 minutes per client per week. That is less than 20 minutes per client per month.

Now, I am not a client of a law firm, but I am pretty sure if I dropped $2,000 on an attorney and the attorney spent an hour on my case in 3 months, I would be one ticked off white dude. In a year, the attorney would spend 4 hours. That is $500 per hour. For some guy who hasn't spent more than 4 hours on my case all year. That doesn't sound like a diamond. Well, maybe diamonique. Maybe some cheap, made in a factory reject diamond. That would about fit in with this guy. I think I saw his Hyundai Diamante next to his Vasio watch next to his Looney and Dourke wallet. Yes, this dude carries a murse.

So, there you go. I was called bro, told he was looking for diamonds on the beach and has some ridiculous number of clients. He was surprised that I wasn't so keen on talking to him. Yeah, funny how I don't like people so much who start in with attacks on me and my client. I would attack his client, but I don't think they would get it. You know, those two syllable words are too much for these folks. These people couldn't even count to 16 to figure out when to file a motion. But go on, attack me. In the meantime, I am going to at least have some blog fodder from Rectum, Little Thing and Dweebs.

Are you a bad client?

2010-01-16T16:20:00.000-08:00

Okay, maybe this should be a regular series. You know, I can be one of those attorneys who blogs, or makes up blogs, and then tries to turn it into a book deal or a job or something inane like that. Or, I could just keep my day job and do this for fun. Oh, and not make crap up. Yeah, I think I like that better. But, this could still be a regular series. Maybe "Thinks that make you go hmmmm....." No wait, that was taken in the 90s as a song title by C&C Music Factory. Wait, I think these folks were so cool that it wasn't C&C it was C+C. You know, the plus instead of the ampersand. Okay, how many of you knew that this "&" was called an ampersand? And how many of you could spell it? LIARS!

How about if I call it "You might be a bad client if........" You know, like you might be a redneck if....... Of course, I can combine the two. You might be a bad client is you are a redneck. Just take out the might. That is a guarantee!

Anyway, here are a few signs you are a bad client:

1. You call 20+ times in two hours. (Notice the use of + like C+C so I could think I am cool.) Yes, today, a Saturday, I had a client call 22 times in 2 hours. That works out to more than once every 6 minutes. It is like a call every 5 1/2 minutes. That is absurd. First, who the heck has that much free time that he/she can dial the phone every 5 1/2 minutes? Second, who doesn't get the point? If I am not in the first 5 times you call, do you think I am suddenly going to be in the for the next 17 times? Sure, I could pick up the phone one of those random times, but odds are against it. And leaving me a message every time that I need to call you does not mean I am going to call you. I may call you on a Saturday. Chances are about 50-50. But once in a while I like to hang with Mr. Cooper. No wait, that is a tv show from the 80s with Marc Curry. Dude was not that funny. Once in a while I like to hang with my family and that means no calls or maybe one call. I made my one call today. No more calls for me!

2. You call and then put me on hold! Look, if you want to talk to me, great. I don't mind talking. I am more than happy to answer your questions. I will even give you a consultation. Its one reason I have blogs. I don't mind giving people information. But, if you think that calling me and then when I answer saying "Can you hold on?" is a good idea, think again. It means to me that you think your time is more important than mine. Sure, there are emergencies that come up, but that shouldn't be the first time we talk. And if you do it to me on the initial consultation or more than once, it means you really think your time is more important than my time. That makes you a bad client. I will respect your time, but please respect mine. I have another client or two who probably wants to talk to me.

3. You drop profanity on me. If you want to use profanity regularly, be my guest. Call your friends and have conversations that go "Hey you mother-bleeper, how the bleep are you bleeping doing? Did you hear what that bleephead Billy did? That dude is one bleeped up bleeper." Do it all freaking day if you want. Just don't call me and start with profanity. Do I use it? Sure. Some punk wants to call me and be an idiot, I will get off the phone and call someone or tell someone that the guy is a BLEEP! But, I don't use it on the phone unless some POC debt collector drops it on me. You know, like the guy who said he wished I was dead. Then it is fair game. But if you are a client, you are not going to impress me by dropping profanity in the conversation. In fact, it is going to make me question whether your going to be able to stay professional during a trial or a hearing or some other proceeding.

I am sure there are more ways that you can be a bad client. As they come up, I am sure I am going to blog about them. And I am sure some of the attorneys who read this will add to it. But please folks, just following these three simple rules will make sure you are not a bad client - or at least be a start. Oh, one more: don't sing Pit Bull to me. Ever. Automatic firing!

TLC has a little person fetish

2010-01-03T14:14:00.000-08:00

I cannot explain it. I don't know that anyone can explain it. What is up with TLC? These folks, or at least the dude in charge of programming, has a fetish with little people, er, dwarfs, er midgets, er really short folks? What exactly do we call them now? Have you watched this channel lately? I would really like to know who is in charge of programming over there. Is anyone?

First, they have Little People, Big World. This is about a family where mom and dad are, not surprisingly, little folks. Apparently, they think it is a big world. I kind of thought it was a little world. I actually thought the world was getting smaller. I guess if you are under 4'6, the world is getting bigger. Are these folks not familiar with the internet? Did they miss Al Gore's invention?

Then, there is Little Couple. Now, one might think that these are the same people. After all, if mom and dad are married and little, they are a little couple. But no, TLC has apparently found a new little couple. Yes, apparently these folks are eager to be on television. I don't know why. Is it in a little person's genes? Its like on Chromosome 22 or something. That is where the height is determined and if the height is under 4'6, you also have a desire to be on TV more than Heidi and Spencer, who by the way needs to be taken out back and whooped. That dude is a train wreck. Sorry, back to the little folks. This woman is a doctor or something and her husband is a "businessman," whatever the heck that means. Does he own a business? Is he a business like LeBron James, LLC? I don't quite understand. What is the deal with him.

Anyway, they then have Dwarf Adoption. Um, hello? Dwarf? Really? Someone is going to name a show Dwarf Adoption? What's next? Dwarf bowling? Dwarf wrestling? I think both of those were outlawed when we turned from the 80s to the 90s. Seriously, when is the last time you saw midget wrestling on WWE or RAW or one of those shows? I remember seeing it in the 80s, but I don't think I have seen it advertised on USA anytime in the last 2 decades. But, apparently if these folks want to adopt, suddenly it is okay to call them dwarfs again. Just because I want to join the circus, does not mean it is okay to start a show called "Cracker Circus."

Seriously, who names these shows? Yes, I want to know. Who comes up with the name of these shows? And how much money do they make? What kind of college degree do you need? Do you even need a college degree or do they take people from Fake Online U in Barbados? I think I could come up with names like this.

Oh, and don't forget that TLC is also home to Toddlers and Tiaras. I recently saw a few minutes of a show where the little girl's name was Kragen. Clearly, that is the name of the store whose parking lot mom and dad were in when she was conceived. I was thinking that they probably meant Pep Boys, but they couldn't figure out who was Manny, Mo or Jack. They were going to go with NAPA as well, but the capital letters confused them.

I really think TLC changed its name from "The Learning Channel" to "Them Little Cuties" and decide that TLC sounded better than "Them Little Cuties." Really, who is programming that station? And did they pass an IQ test?

Just wondering..........

Neighbors, Neighbors and Neighbors

2009-12-10T19:12:00.000-08:00

No, this is not about Jim Nabors. Nor is it about my desire to put on a sweater and slippers and say "Won't you be my neighbor?" Nor is this going to be a dissertation about "Neighbor" by Ugly Kid Joe. (You can see the video here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OtNW88sgO04) Rather, this is my joyous time with my neighbors. A few neighborly thoughts.

1. Don't use my garbage can. My neighborhood has some dumb rules about garbage cans. I think they cannot be put out before 6pm and they have to be back in within 36 minutes of the garbage man picking them up or 11:32am unless it is the 3rd Friday of the month and a new moon in which case they have to be in by 9:46am. Sometimes my garbage cans make it in by then. Most of the time - not going to happen. If the garbage man comes, and if I know he comes, I might get around to it by 8pm, when I get home from sparring. Maybe 8:30pm.

Now, look, I know it should be empty because the garbage man came. He dumped it. His little arm thing lifted it up and turned it upside down so that all of the contents were bend over and the contents of your stomach come out into the toilet. After this event, this very important event in life, the inside is empty. The garbage can should have nothing in it. So, how come I come home and I have stuff in my garbage can?

I don't know which of my neighbors feels like my garbage can is theirs, but it is not theirs. Its mine. I claim it. I own it. I pay some ridiculous amount of money every month for the right to fill it up. Stop using it. It is not yours! Stop using it. Give me back my garbage can. I want to use it - all of it. I want to fill up my garbage can! STOP!

2. I live in a development where we have big garages. I have a three car. Some homes have a 4 car garage. 4 car garage? Really? Who owns 4 cars? Jay Leno? Tiger Woods? You know, his Escalade, and his 9 girlfriends each have one. Plus the wife, who will probably get a new car every month for the rest of her life with the alimony he is going to be paying her. So, in addition to having 3 or 4 cars that they can park in their garage, they have a driveway. That is a minimum of 2 more cars, but up to 4 more cars, if they have a long driveway. So, figure these folks have enough space on their property to keep between 5 and 9 cars. That should be enough space for 99% of Americans, right? I mean, the British would be able to fit in 15 to 27 cars per house with this much space, but even old men who drive Cadillacs and pimps with their 1970 blue Lincoln Town Car, lowered, and covered in velour would be able to fit in 3 or 4 cars.

But, apparently, in my neighborhood, this is not enough room. Every day I find a car parked right in front of my house. Not like once a week. Or even every other day. Every freaking day someone parks in front of my house. Now, I get that I don't own that space, but could you please let my friend park there. That's right - I said friend. That is the one guy who would actually come to my house. He would like to park his car in front of my house so he doesn't have to walk 6 miles to get to my house because you have the entire street blocked by your POC cars. No, I won't link to Adam Sandler's Piece of S*** car song again - you can go look it up this time. But, dude driving the Miata that is two colors and has a hard top, you know who you are!

How about this? Lets park our cars in our garage. When the garage is full, put a car or two on the driveway. Then, when the driveway is full, put a car or two in front of your house. And seriously, if you have more cars than that on a daily basis, you need to move. I hear Far, Far Away is a nice place. You and Shrek can go live there.

3. Don't offer me pot. Ever. No pot. No marijuana. No hash. No Mary Jane. No budda. No gang. No chronic. No grass. No sticky icky. No hooba. No wacky tobacky. No fatty boombalaty. No reefer. No blunt. No dope. No 420.

Yes, one of my neighbors offered me pot. Not just any pot, but the "good stuff." Dude apparently was so happy that I found his brother's dog, who was in my garage, that he and his buddies offered me a doobie. They had the good stuff to offer me. He didn't know if I smoke it. Um, bra, as he would be called, I am over 22. I think most folks over 22 don't smoke the weed. Imagine me smoking dope. Come on, you know me. You know how I would be "So, um, Ms. Debt Collector witch, I don't think you could, um, what was I saying.....you were um........wait, what? Who are you?" Go read my Michael Phelps rant. You know that would so be me. And that would just be the contact high. Imagine if I actually smoked it. I would be eating cookies and drinking root beer until cows were flying - which I would probably see if I smoked a joint. Heck, I barely drink, and this guy wanted to offer me a smoke!

Pretty much, you never have to offer me some pot. I assure you, I won't smoke it, and I especially won't smoke it with my neighbors. Trust me on this, dude. You don't have to offer it to me. You can keep "the good stuff" all for yourself!

A guest post - Worst Company in America

2009-11-17T10:57:00.000-08:00

A guest post from an anonymous source:

Comcast is the worst company in America. It’s not entirely their fault, of course. In most markets where they operate, they do so as a monopoly. If you want cable TV, you pay them. There is no alternative other than a satellite dish, and in my experience, wherever there is a monopoly there is corruption, incompetence, and arrogance.

Some people think that Comcast is only the second worst company in America. The Consumerist website, after a period of public voting, had Comcast in the finals for “Worst Company In America” for each of the past two years. In 2008, Comcast “lost” that title to Countrywide Home Loans, http://consumerist.com/5027169/worst-company-in-america-final-death-match-comcast-vs-countrywide-home-loans and this year finished again as runner-up to AIG.

You know things are tough when the only companies worse than you are a couple of the poster children for the recent economic meltdown.

On the website, you can find people suggesting that the runner-up trophy for worst company in America be permanently named “The Comcast Award.”

Naturally, I would not be writing about this if I were not a Comcast “customer.”

Here is my (most recent) tale of woe. I am a double Comcast prisoner. We have Comcast cable at the office, and I have it at home. We have it at the office because our Internet access is absolutely mission-critical to everything we do. We cannot afford to be down for even a few hours. Therefore, we pay each month for the local phone company’s high-speed DSL service and for the Comcast cable. In other words we pay double each month simply to insure that if one goes down, we can switch to the other, and hope that the odds are long that both could be down at the same time. So far, so good.

A salesman from Comcast comes to our office and says that because we have this business account, we can also have the Comcast business service (faster, better) at home, too, if we would like. We’ll pay more, of course, but it is available.
Since I have frequent problems with my home service (a Comcast trademark) I say yes to this proposition. A guy comes out to my house and installs the new service.
Beginning a couple of months later, I begin to get calls and letters from the Comcast billing department, threatening to cut off service if I don’t pay up. This I find mysterious since one of my staff pay all my bills, and I know they are paid on time.

There ensued hours of phone calls, the pain (and pain-in-the-ass) of which I cannot begin to describe to you, which lead eventually to the discovery of a “mistake” by Comcast. While they had installed the business service (fast) in my home, and had begun billing me for it, they had neglected to cancel the domestic service (slow) account, and thus had been double billing me for months. Straightening this out was a freaking nightmare. I only kept my sanity by delegating most of it to my employee Dave Meehan who has the patience of a saint.

Now comes the piece de resistance.

I am now getting threatening letters from a collection agency because, they say, I didn’t return to Comcast the router (for the old, slow service) that they took away when they upgraded me to the new service.

So, on top of being double-billed for months, I am now being dunned for a piece of equipment that a Comcast technician removed from my house.

Wonder if these idiots will now besmirch my personal, or business, credit rating?

Dumb people

2009-11-12T13:02:00.000-08:00

So it has been a while since I have blogged. Say, the middle of October. As a friend of mine said, maybe having a baby mellowed me. Probably true. So I am going with a post tonight about a few people - or groups of people - who bug me. Annoy me. Make me want to pull out my hair - assuming I had some. And no, I am not bald. I am clean shaven. I choose to walk around with no hair. There is a difference! So without further ado, or further ramblings from me, my list of people who big, big time!

1. Smokers - okay, what the BLEEP? (This bleep is brought to you by the FCC. Those fine folks who tell us what is appropriate for television and radio. Of course, Family Guy did the best FCC spoof ever. You can watch it here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2NDPT0Ph5rA ) Seriously, what is the deal with smokers. These folks smoke everywhere. When the baby was born, we were at the hospital. There you go. I bet you didn't know that. I should get some award for stating the obvious! Anyway, there were folks in their hospital gowns who were smoking outside of the hospital. Yes, you are at the hospital and sick, yet that is not motivation enough for you to stop smoking. I mean, how much of a degenerate do you have to be to smoke while you are admitted to the hospital? You rank right up there with crazy folks who post comments on people's Facebook pages and then go back and delete them. Yes, I am talking about you, you crazy lady. Michael Jackson is still dead and Chiller is still funny! Here is an idea: stop smoking. Use the patch, gum, hypnosis, or just plain cold turkey. But stop smoking. It is disgusting. Its more disgusting than the dude who called be after his glass eyeball fell out!

2. Christmas decorations - Hey, Target, Wal Mart, dude who lives near King Park: I have a memo for you: it is not even freaking Thanksgiving yet. Take down your decorations. What happened to one holiday at a time? No Target, I am not going to buy your overpriced Christmas clothes. Wal Mart, I am not going to buy your crappy Christmas decorations that cost you 25 cents to make and you are selling for $5. Put it away. Ask me about it after Thanksgiving. I want to celebrate one holiday at a time. So, the order in the fall is Halloween, Thanksgiving and then Christmas. It is not Christmas season from October 15 until December 25. Oh, and I didn't forget about you ABC Family. They have this ridiculous 25 days of Christmas. Its like an advent calendar full of movies. Fine. I can get it. Kind of. But, now they are doing the "Countdown to the 25 days of Christmas." It started on like November 5. It wasn't even Veterans Day yet. You have to countdown to a countdown to Christmas. Really? How about a countdown to a countdown to a countdown to you folks getting a brain? You do realize that not everyone celebrates the holiday, right? And some folks don't run out and buy presents for Christmas. Some people actually get that there is something to the time of year from the end of November (AFTER THANKSGIVING) to the end of the year. And it has nothing to do with your movies, some of which are old and some of which just plain suck. Hey, anything with Mario Lopez should be burned. Now. Please? Lets celebrate one holiday at a time. For now, I want to focus on my Thanksgiving turkey, stuffing and baking pies for the local fire department. And I will not watch ABC SUCKY, er, Family.

Oh, and dude who lives near King Park, take down your lights. Lights go up the day after Thanksgiving. They come down a week after the New Year. That is the rule. Live with it or your neighbors can pull down your lights. And never, ever let you put them up again.

3. Dude from India - So, I get this call today while I am working. Caller ID pulls up 64053. Um, at least in this country, we have seven digit phone numbers. So, this worries me. I know when the fine folks at the Federal Bureau of Investigation call me, and they do call me once in a while, it comes up with three numbers. But five numbers are weird. So, I answer the phone "This is Jonathan." You would think this would tell someone who I am. Apparently not. Dude explains he is from a mortgage lender. He wants to talk to me about a client, call her Stephanie. But, instead he calls her Steve. After I correct her name, he asks me for her social security number. Now, I don't know about the rest of the country, but I don't run around giving out a client's social security number. So, I ask dude where he is calling from. His answer, not surprisingly, Mumbai, India. So, I ask him to verify his identity. He won't. So I ask him why he thinks I should give out my client's social security number to some guy half way around the world. He keeps repeating his script "I need you to verify your identity by giving me her social security number." Dude, you called me. You dialed my number. I answered "This is Jonathan." Who do you think it is, Jack the Ripper? And you want me to give out information to some dude just because he called me and said he was from a bank? You are right, I trust banks. I trust them about as much as I trust insurance companies. No wait, I trust insurance companies more. I trust the California legislature more than I trust banks, and the legislature, well, at least Pedro Nava and Calderon, whatever the heck his first name is, oh wait, it is Ron, are in the back pockets of the banks. So ultimately he hung up on me. Go figure.

4. Fiances - no, not fiancees. The former are the men who are engaged. The latter are the women who are engaged. What is up with us guys? Some of us are just lame. Not me, of course. I am an angel, right? But I have watched an episode or two of "Say Yes to the Dress." It is a show on TLC that follows crazy women buying wedding dresses from some fancy shop in NYC. Got the premise? It is not earth shattering tv. Very simple. But then some of these women show up with the guy. What is up with that? The guy? He is not supposed to have ANY say in the wedding dress. Heck, he isn't even supposed to see her in the dress before the wedding. Never. Ever. You aren't cool or phresh (not fresh, mind you, but phresh so I can feel hip) or hip or happening or tight or anything else. You are a loser. A big fat loser. A big fat patethic useless loser. It is her dress. She picks it out. You have no say in it. Ever. Remember that. Now go watch 24 and Counting or however many kids the Duggars have now. You know, it would be easier to keep track if they went from A to Z with the names instead of starting them all with J. You do know that they now have to make up names since they have run out of real names that begin with the letter J.

So there you have it. 4 groups of people who annoy me. A lot. Too much! The world would be a better place if these folks who stop being dweebs and douches and start being real, the real world. No wait, that show was, and is, full of douches too. Sorry. f

Lawyers are high maintenanc

2009-10-19T19:13:00.000-07:00

No, not me. I am low maintenance. I am so low maintenance its like non-existent. Really. Just ask my wife. Right honey? (It's okay - she doesn't read this so you can trust me when I say that.)

Seriously, not only are lawyers high maintenance, but they aren't even good about being high maintenance. I mean, if Diane Lane wants to get all high maintenance on me, that would be fine. I would just break out Unfaithful and watch it with her and all would be good in the world. I am sure some woman would think Captain Jack Sparrow could get all high maintenance on her and she would be fine with it. But the folks who are all high maintenance in the legal world cannot back it up. At least in this reporter's humble view. (See Guy, Family)

Let me start with a favorite of mine. Jay Foonberg. Jay Foonberg is considered some Godlike person among people in the ABA. Apparently he knows something about opening and running a law firm. Well, they think he does. The ABA recently had a seminar called "How to Hang Your Shingle and Start Your Firm" with Foonberg as the speaker. Now, let me see how many problems I have with this.

First, Foonberg is on Twitter. And if by on, I mean he has 1 follower. I don't know about the rest of you, but if I am going to sit through some presentation about running a law firm, I would like to know about the latest technology - preferably from someone who uses it. Hey, I don't know if Twitter is the next big thing, especially for lawyers, but shouldn't dude at least be able to tell me he uses it? Of course, this is probably expecting too much from a guy who doesn't blog. But, he is affiliated with Solo Practice University- which may be the biggest waste of money for sole practitioners. Solo Practice is just repackaging other people's ideas - ideas that are mostly free. It is like paying for an aggregator. Why? Please tell me why.

Second, Foonberg doesn't use proper English on his website. Now, those of you who are regular readers of my blog will recall some posts where I did not use proper English. I think I broke out with "You can blame it on the rain cause the rain don't mind and the rain don't care." We all know that this should be "You can blame it on the rain because the rain doesn't mind and the rain doesn't care." But, I am not writing this to get clients or to have people pay $180 for a book. Especially a book where you are already supposed to know 85% of the material. I am paying you $180 for 15% of the material. That means the book should cost over $1,000. Yes, Foonberg, for $1,000 I would rather go to the Moonlight Bunny Ranch than read your lack of command of the English language. How about you don't put your own writing in quotes on your own freaking website.

But, Foonberg isn't the only one. How about Scott Greenfield? He writes some blog Simple Justice. I don't know what simple justice is. If I did, I think I would cry. There is nothing simple about justice. But, that's just me. Greenfield has a blog post today about blogging. Yes, he blogged about blogging when he claims to be a lawyer who represents people and not a marketing guy. In fact, he called a marketing guy a whore. Of course, Greenfield is marketing without calling it marketing. Its like putting your money in the mattress and then not calling it saving. You are still saving it - just not in a bank. If Greenfield doesn't think he is marketing with his blog, he is more of a diva than I thought. In his blog, he doesn't capitalize Twitter, he puts periods outside of the quotation marks, he screws up figures of speech (it is not "on both accounts" but rather "on bouth counts" and it is "As I said" not "Like I said."), and he uses sentence fragments. That must be why he and Foonberg get along so well.

Greenfield, however, and his buddies Mark Bennett and Brian Tannenbaum, make VH1's Diva's show look like the small time. These three were invited to speak at a seminar with me. Now, I don't know that I would go to listen to me speak. But, I might. After all, I know what I am going to say and I am not afraid to say it. (Of course, the problem could be the sponsor of the seminar may wuss out now that I have called these guys out or the sponsor could man up and let me do what I proposed. I am hoping for the latter since we are brothers without hair.) Anyway, these three wouldn't go to the seminar unless someone pays for their travel. Really? Who the hell pays anyone to travel to a seminar these days? I haven't seen that happen in years and I invited speakers for the State Bar of California for years. But, apparently, when you market your law practice without admitting it is marketing, you think you need to be treated differently. Its a bit like when someone comes out to Sunday Soccer and they don't want us to shoot at them. If you don't want to get hit with the ball, get off the field.

I don't know about this. I don't understand why so many lawyers are such divas. Look, we put our pants on one leg at a time just like the maid and the cook and the septic tank cleaner and the freaky parents of that kid Falcon. (By the way, you aren't bright enough to pull off a hoax like that, Eagle and Sparrow, or whatever the hell your names are. Did you really think you wouldn't get caught? Of course, you wonder why ABC hasn't been running 24 hours of these folks on Wife Swap. You know ABC would do anything to make a buck.) Anyway, there are way too many lawyers who think they are way too good. You are a person. Your mom and dad had a sperm and an egg meet just like everyone else. You spent 40 weeks or so in the womb. The difference? You kept going to school.

So memo to those called out in this blog post: stop with the nonsense. Foonberg, I have $5 for your book. That is about all it is worth. When you can figure out how to run a modern law practice and not an Abraham Lincoln law practice, call me. The other three - stop thinking you are so advanced because you don't market your law practice. You do. And stop being a diva. Go to the conference and feel free to rip into me. I know I will do my homework and be prepared to explain the flaws in people who refuse to hire experts to help market their law firms.

Oh, and the offer I made to Barrett and Fairley applies to you guys (and you really old men) too: more than happy to debate you publicly on this!

Legal Marketers

2009-10-13T13:18:00.001-07:00

I interrupt this work day to bring you a rant.......a rant about people who want to get me more work. Or, so they claim. I think they really just want to get more money in their pockets. Why do I think that? Because its true.

Like any profession, there is good and bad. Good cops and bad cops. Good lawyers and bad lawyers. Good drug......no wait, only bad drug dealers. But you get the idea, right? There is good and bad in everything. Let me go through the bad first.

There are two people who give lawyer marketing a bad reputation. Really bad. How bad are they? I would rather be called an ambulance chaser than be associated with these two. I would rather be called a snake oil salesman than be associated with these two. I would rather...........well, you get the idea. After all, my blog readers, all 4 of you, are smart!

Stephen Fairley and David Barrett should be renamed Double Trouble. Wasn't that a video game in the 80s? No that was Double Dragon. Good game. I could never beat it. But they had some wicked (for my northeastern readers) karate moves. Anyway, I got an email from Fairley last week. Trust me when I tell you that my third grader understands better use of punctuation and capitalization. Shall I show you? Do you actually dare me? Do you think I would make up something like that without proof? Do I look like I use hyperbole? Okay, fine, here goes:

"I'm Sick And Tired Of The Government Offering Stimulus Packages To Everyone Except Those Who Need It The Most"

Seriously? That is what you have for me? I am supposed to pay you almost $1,000 for your "retreat" and you write with the first letter of each word capitalized. Seriously? Dude, my 3rd grader knows you don't do that. Heck, my cute little kindergartener knows that you do not do that. I think I met a 4 year old who knows not to do that.

Now this is bad. But, wait there is more. Or, as he puts it, there is a B*O*N*U*S. Seriously, are we in third grade or something? What the heck is up with the little "*" between every letter? Does that make it stand out more? Or does it make your idiocy stand out more? I mean, I feel dirty after reading that. It is like I received a note from a 7th grade girl. I need to go shower.

Anyway, dude fake twitters you. Ever notice that you are being followed on twitter by some nice looking woman? And then ever go read her posts? They all read about the same way: "RAINMAKER is the best" and "It is so big at the RAINMAKER." First, why do you need to fake twitter people? I know, I am going to start calling that "pulling a dumbarse" instead of calling it "pulling a Fairley" since I don't want to give dude that much respect. Second, compensating much? I know I just need one twitter account to keep people updated. I don't need like 10. To me, having 10 twitter accounts is like driving an H3 - you must be lacking in some department.

Now, you can't take Fairley by himself. That would be so unFairley like. Fairley has a partner in crime. A boy wonder if you will. A Robin. His name is David Barrett. And he is "THE WORLD'S MOST LINKEDIN LAWYER.........." (Okay, for that to be funny, go back and read it as if you were the guy who does the intro for the Superheros cartoons.) Yes, dude is the world's most linkedin lawyer.

I am pretty sure most of my non-lawyer readers, both of you, will not even know what Linked In is. Heck, most lawyers don't know what it is. And of those of us who do, 8 out of 10 don't care. The other 2 care because they made some money off of Linked In and think they can do it again. I guess I should have reduced my fraction to 4 out of 5, but then I feel like a toothpaste commercial. And what does this Linked In lawyer do? Good question. If you find out, will you let me know?

I know. He sends Spam Links. (Spam on Linked In, get it?) I get more crap on Linked In from this one guy then I do from everyone else combined. And I am not even "linked" with him. I dumped him after he offended me. Again. No, instead he joins every lawyer group known to Linked In and spams the groups. Do you know how obnoxious spam is? Take that and multiply it by 10 because it is from a lawyer. Then multiply it by another 100 because it is from some guy who, best as I can tell, makes his living being linked to other people. That would be like some guy being famous because his wife had 8 kids and they couldn't raise them. Oh wait, that does happen. Sorry.

I guess because you can link to a lot of people you know something about marketing. That would be like me claiming I know something about sewing because I watch a lot of sewing. Really, I do. My wife and her friend sew and I watch. I guess I can now teach people how to sew because I saw it a lot. Just because you can connect to people through some website does not mean you can teach me how to market a law firm!

Seriously, if this is the future of legal marketing we are in trouble, folks. The legal profession is going to go the way of newspapers. We are doomed. If it takes spam and fake twitter accounts and being linked to people through some made up website to market to lawyers and you are going to teach those lawyers how to market, you need to get a clue. That is not marketing. That is called "get rich quick." Although, I would guess that they haven't gotten rich since I keep getting their crap.

Good, ethical lawyer marketing can be done. Want proof? Go see Mark Merenda at Smart Marketing or Allison Sheilds at LegalEase Consulting, Ben Glass at Great Legal Marketing, Jay Fleischmann at LegalPracticePro or Grant Griffiths at G2Webmedia. It can be done. I promise. But stop with the spam. Stop with the grandiose titles. Stop with the fake offers. Stop with all of that nonsense.

By the way, I know this will get back to these two, as well as to some of these other fake marketers. Those who know me well know I don't just sit and hide behind my computer. You think I am wrong? I will debate anyone, anytime, anywhere about ethical, honest lawyer marketing. As Kirsten Dunst would say "Bring it on."

Capitalism: A Fake Story

2009-09-27T17:54:00.000-07:00

So Michael Moore is at it again. He has made a movie called "Capitalism: A Love Story." He claims this is the culmination of his last 20 years since he made "Roger and Me." There are so many things wrong with this movie. Where should I begin?

First, does anyone really like Michael Moore movies? Really? I mean, sure some people think that the topics are interesting like Sicko or his ridiculous 9/11 movie. I think it was called "Ridiculous, A Michael Moore Conspiracy Theory Crazier than Oliver Stone." Was that not the title? Maybe it was his Columbine movie which I believe was called "Columbine: I am making money off of other people's tragedy." Maybe it was his little known movie "Michael Moore: I live in a Mansion."

Which gets me to the point of this little rant. His latest movie is supposed to show that the free market system has caused a whole host of ills for this country. He compares capitalism to pure evil and has a priest talk about capitalism as if it is the devil. Part of this movie is about Moore's personal life and how he wanted to be an activist priest. Finally, he wants to show that capitalism is a system that is set up to make a profit on anything.

Okay, so lets start with some basics. You have a few basic economic models. Capitalism, socialism and communism. There are variations of these, but these are your three basic models. (If you don't trust me, David Lang, Professor of Economics at CSU Sacramento, will explain it to you. Trust me - nice guy and he actually continued getting degrees in economics until he had a PhD!) Communism has failed. I guess technically it still exists in places like Cuba, but if it worked that well, wouldn't people stop defecting from Cuba, especially on little rafts in a big, shark filled ocean? Socialism is around, but lets face it: it aint that good!

Socialized medicine is terrible. Proof? Here is the hearing test in Canada when you apply for residency. You stand in a room and the person administering the test stands behind you. They then say a word at about regular speaking level and you have to repeat it. Yep, that is how they check your hearing in Canada. Nice, huh? (Honest to goodness: this is a true story!!)

As for capitalism being the devil, really? Really, do we think it is that bad? Capitalism, of course, is what lets Michael Moo (dude kind of looks like a cow, doesn't he?) do what he does: make bad movies. If we were in a communist society, he wouldn't be able to make these movies. If we were in a socialist society, he wouldn't have the resources to make these movies. But, we are in a capitalist society and apparently that bothers Michael Mooron. (Yes, I know it is spelled wrong - it is a play on his last name!)

Of course, Michael Moore doesn't tell you that he owns over a quarter of a million dollars in stock. And that stock is in American companies. Um, yes those same companies that he rails about. And he is a self proclaimed multi-millionaire. Not jut a millionaire. But a multi-millionaire. Dude has millions of dollars from living in a capitalist society. But, of course, he never tells you this because that would change your perspective on him. He is not a working stiff from Flint, but rather he is getting stiff with his millions. (Oh, come on, that's funny. Imagine Michael Moore rolling around on his bed with his money. After all, its not like he is going to have a line of women waiting for him!)

Hey, you want to criticize the country, go for it. But at least do it from a position of honesty. Michael Mofo is just not honest with people. He ignores the fact that he has made millions and millions of dollars from his crappy movies. He ignores the fact that he is invested in the same companies he claims to hate. He makes these movies because people watch them. Of course, what people, I don't know. Yes, actually I do. My liberal friends. My very liberal friends. And there are enough of those people in this country to make Michelle Moore (come on, dude is at least a D cup) a very rich person.

Here is to Miguel Moro (he seems to like communism so much that maybe he is from Cuba) being honest in his next high school produced beta movie.

The J.C. Show

2009-09-21T19:59:00.000-07:00

Okay, I can't even use its real name. Its a radio show. But it is so bad, that I would hate for someone to go listen to it because of my blog. But...............

So I was driving to get dinner the other night. I am flipping through the AM dial looking for something other than a baseball game on the radio. Isn't baseball boring enough without having to listen to it? Anyway, I put on the station and WOW! The introduction starts with "You can pray to Jesus Christ. And now you can talk to him on the radio."

Even Johnny knows it is a sin. (Okay, Charlie Daniels Band. Devil Went Down to Georgia. Get it? Really, I need you to stay up on 70s songs if you are going to read this!) But apparently these people think it is okay to tell people to call in and talk to Jesus. For those of you reading this in California, that is not Jesus (Hay-zeus), but rather Jesus. One time, at law school, my estates professor called Hay-zeus to answer a question. Except she kept pronouncing it Jesus. As in the son of God. Repeatedly like Ben Stein calling out Bueller. It was hilarious. As in roll on the ground funny.

Anyway, the premise of the show is that you can call Jesus and ask questions. How does that work? Something like this:

Caller: "Hi Jesus. It is me Mary. Thank you for helping me in my life."
Host: "You are welcome, Mary."
Caller: "Jesus, I have jealousy in my heart. How do I get rid of jealousy?"
Host: "Mary, as you know, I have said jealousy is a sin........."

Yes, these people are calling in and pretending that the host on the radio show is Jesus. And he never gives his name. He answers as if he is Jesus. His telephone number is AREA CODE-HOLY-HOST. Yes, you call in to the HOLY HOST.

What the hell? Okay, pardon that expression. If I recall, isn't it a sin to worship anyone other than God? Now, I am not the most religious guy in the world, but I am pretty sure calling in to a dude who is pretending to be Jesus is not quite what God had in mind. I think he is cool with you asking questions to your priest/pastor/rabbi/shaman etc.... But some random dude on the radio? Really?

Imagine if Howard Stern had people call in and talk to Jesus? Or Rob, Arnie and whatever her name is? I am pretty sure the right wing conservatives would flip out. I think they would tell you that this is sacreligious or something. I think we would see someone right wing conservative nut job yelling and threats of a boycott. But this dude gets away with it.

And whats worse? He sells crap. You can buy t-shirts and knick knacks. They even sell cups. It aint a coffe cup. It aint a dixie cup. And you sure........no wait, it is a coffee cup. Okay, this reference is to obscure for 99% of the world. So, go watch it on Youtube: www.youtube.com/watch?v=BerJdS2VJhA

Seriously, these folks are making money off of pretending to be Jesus. And it is on regular radio. How can that be? Am I the only one offended by this? And I am not even religious. Seriously, how can anyone not be ticked off by this guy? He should at least man up and tell us his name.

I think the Jesus Christ Radio Show should really be called the Marshall Appelwhite Hour. (Go check out wikipedia and its funny. Trust me.)

Three People Who Suck - A LOT!

2009-09-16T19:30:00.000-07:00

Its been a long week. No, a long two weeks. No, a long three weeks. Basically, its been a long few weeks and I am grumpy. People are morons. Not all people. Not even most people. Just some people. Its just that some people suck a lot more than others. I have come across three people in the last 48 hours who suck. A ton. A lot of tons. These three suck more than adding up the weight of all of the Duggars. These three suck more than all of the moms from Toddlers and Tiaras. These three suck more than Kanye West - and that is a lot. By the way, why does anyone invite that guy anywhere? He has no social skills. None. He should go some place special - some place where Tom Hanks got lost in Cast Away. So, without further rants, here are my top 3 sucky people of the week (or month or year), in no particular order:

1. Another attorney. I won't name this young associate at a big law firm. The Lawyers Big Brain Sucks. (I just gave you a hint. Its funny. Go read it again. Trust me.) Anyway, he thinks he is so smart. I think he thinks his stuff don't stink. It does. Badly! Dude served me with discovery. I have answers due on Friday. I faxed him a letter at 9pm last night explaining that I have been out most of the last 4 weeks or so and I needed a three week extension. This bright guy writes back to me and says he will give me a one week extension. He also tells me how my inability to respond shows that my case is not very good.

Huh? My case is fine. I just haven't been able to do the work. I know some people think I have 28 hours in a day. But, alas, I only have 24 hours in a day. (And see #2 - I don't have 48 hours in a day either!) And when you subtract hospital time and family time, it left me like -3 hours a day. Hey, smart guy: some of us take care of our other responsibilities first because we expect professional courtesy. If that is too much for you, go sail a boat around the world by yourself. Do something solitary like that. The rest of the world will run better without you!

2. The State Bar. I know - a favorite topic of mine. There is an article in the current Bar Journal (by the way, calling it a journal is a bit like calling my blog actual writing) about the new State Bar President. There is so much to criticize. But let me keep it simple. He says he is going to split his time as follows: 75% as State Bar President, 75% practicing law and 50% on his family. WOW!

First, let me make this perfectly clear: You can only have 100% of your time. There are not 48 hours in a day, Mr. President. There are only 24. Is it really that hard? Do we wonder why high school kids cannot do basic math when a lawyer thinks he has 200% of his time? Sheesh. Here is an idea: if I can find 10 high school kids who recognize the mistake, el presidente, then you should make a donation to their high school. Deal?

Second, it is not funny. It is not laugh out loud funny. It is not chuckle worthy. It is not even ha ha funny. In fact, I have seen whoopie cushions that are funnier than this.

Third, it does not mean you are a hard worker. It means you have absolutely no common sense. If your family is last, your priorities are screwed up. Go read Tuesdays with Morrie. Go see Dr. Phil. Go talk to someone who has lost someone. I know you are older than dirt, but please, get into the current decade. Or any time in the last 2 decades. People do not respect you because you claim to work 3 times as much as you spend with your family. People just realize that you have no freaking sense. Octomom has more common sense than you. Guliani and Bill have more common sense than you and they can barely complete full sentences. Seriously, anyone on Project Runway would be able to recognize that you have absolutely no sense in the 21st Century.

3. School Board members. Okay, so there is a school board member in my town. Short version of the story: She went out on disability. She started taking a prescription for pain even though it was not for pain. She gambled and ran up huge debts. She blamed it on the prescription. She filed for bankruptcy. She then borrowed money from a friend and told the friend she would pay her back after she settled her case against the drug company. She then amended her bankruptcy to include the friend. After her bankruptcy was discharged, she settled her case against the drug company for about $300,000 - or so the story goes. She tells people it was a lot of money.

So many things wrong with this. First, she had compulsive gambling but was not compulsive when she was on the school board? Really? Come now. Do we look that dumb? We don't, but the rest of the school board believes her. Yes, these folks believe that she was not compulsive at all in her school board dealings but was compulsive in her personal life. Sheesh. Our school board members are dumber than rocks.

Second, she was taking this for an off label use. Who's problem is that? Not ours.

Third, she screwed her friend. And she has no problem with that. Sure, it may be legal. But it isn't ethical. So, now we have a school board member who is unethical. Nice. That is what we want to teach our kids. How about we have her and the State Bar President get together and teach a class. Math for unethical imbeciles. Of course, most of the students would be able to figure it out better than the teachers.

Oh, and by the way lady, you did not have a compulsion to sex. No one would have sex with you. The folks at the Society for the Blind turned you down. Sexaholics Anonymous members wouldn't even touch you. The Aint's fans of the 80s would give you all of their paper bags and Bill Clinton still wouldn't touch you. Let's be real.

So, there you have it. Three people who suck - a lot. September 16, 2009 edition.

Freaking Homeowners Association

2009-09-02T19:39:00.000-07:00

I am sure there is some advantage to living in a house that is part of a homeowners association. After all, the houses don't get painted sky blue or baby blue. There is no dark green trim or baby puke green trim. You don't have people with 6 feet of weeds in their yard. You don't have.........well, I am sure there are other benefits. There are other benefits, right? Please tell me there are other benefits. Something? Anything?

You see, I have the homeowners association from h-e-double hockey sticks. These folks are so inept that they make George W. Bush look like he has a firm grasp of world leaders. These folks are so bad at their jobs that they make Kate Gosselin look like a marriage counselor. These people are so incompetent that they make the ABA look like they have some clue on scheduling meetings in the USA!

Today in my mail, I got a $50 fine for having weeds in my lawn. Not excessive weeds. Not big weeds. Just weeds. Let me run down the top 5 list of places that have weeds in grass:

1. All of Humboldt County has weed (different kind, sure, but still weed);
2. the frozen tundra of Lambeau Field;
3. The White House lawn;
4. Paris Hilton (no wait, she has crabs in the grass, not weeds, dang it);
5. August National.

Let me see if I get this. Tiger Woods, the $100 million man, can play golf in weeds, but I can't have my kids run around in grass with weeds. The most powerful man in the free world can have weeds and I can't? Remember, this isn't tall weeds or excessive weeds, but rather weeds. WTF?

Of course, these are the same people who fined me $50 last fall because I had leaves on my lawn. Leaves on the lawn? In the fall? Damn you, trees. Damn you. Do not ever have your freaking leaves fall on my lawn. If you do, I shall strike thee down with a lightning bolt. Do not give me this change of seasons crap. Leaves should not fall on my lawn. It is my lawn and I live in the area with the homeowners association that hates leaves. Ever. Any time. Leaves are clearly the warriors of Satan in a fight for my home's soul.

How incompetent is this group? They scheduled a dog walk for July 4th and thought people would come. One problem: they never got a permit. OOPS! How do you forget to get a permit? Isn't that like having a party and forgetting to reserve a location? Then they rescheduled it for the same day as the start of the soccer season. They were stunned when they had a couple dozen people show up instead of the 1,000 they told sponsors they would get. Really? You think mom and dad are going to go to a dog walk instead of taking little Timmy to his soccer pictures and soccer game? Soccer pictures happen one time with your team. You can walk your dog pretty much anytime you want. And these people were genuinely surprised.

The association has a great policy. Do you know how they find violations? They have neighbors rat you out. That builds great neighborhood spirit. "Hey Bill. How are you doing?" Meanwhile, he is checking out your lawn to see if you have a weed so he can report you. Then he reports you and the association sends someone out to take pictures. At this point, wouldn't it work to go say "Bill, we had a complaint from someone about your lawn. Can you put down some Roundup on the weeds?" But, no. Instead they send out a letter and a fine.

They forget to tell you that if you don't pay the fine, they just keep sending it to you. There are people in the association who owe thousands of dollars and the association does nothing to collect it. I think at some point it must stale date and you can't call it an asset anymore. Of course, the board members are still laughing thinking I called someone an ass when I used the word asset. Its like Beavis and freaking Butthead. But at least Beavis could put together a complete sentence.

Of course, if you are the President of the Association, you get a free pass. Your vacant lots are allowed to have weeds grow 5 feet high. And you get until May 1 to cut them down in case it rains and they grow back. That's my excuse. I want to let me grass grow as much as a hirsute woman and tell them its not May 1 yet so I can't be fined!

This dweeb actually told a friend of mine that he wanted me to come to a meeting so he could show me he was smarter than me. I think he meant by using big words. Or using words he thinks are big. He probably was sitting around coming up with words like sassafras. He was going to call me a sassafras soda or something. Trust me, dude is less bright than the people who think its sad that I made fun of Michael Jackson.

The rest of the board is full of pansies who refuse to do anything. Not one single thing. They don't vote on anything. I think they have meetings solely so they can sit around and tell each other how great they are. They sit around and say things like "We are such a good board since we haven't had anyone yell at us ever." Of course, they ignore the fact that they haven't advertised their meetings in the last 6 years. They send out notices AFTER they meet. How useful is that?

I have an idea: how about the homeowners association spend their time doing something better than fining people for having a weed? How about they stop scheduling dog walks during major events? How about they all go on a field trip far, far away?

What's the deal with Facebook?

2009-09-01T20:05:00.000-07:00

I care about this. Trust me. I do. It is important to me. It is deeply important to me. I have been contemplating this for a week. Yes, Alison, a week. It is as important to me as the President of the United States. It is as important as the spray on mobile tan dude who is a perv. Even if some of you doubt me, and you know who you are, this is an issue that is vitally important to this country.

What is it? Facebook. What is the deal with Facebook? Well, it is not really Facebook that I have an issue with. It is Facebook users. Specifically, a few specific types of users. These people should be taken off Facebook for at least 60 days - maybe 60 years. Of course, in 60 days Facebook could be as useless as MySpace, or worse, as AOL. Does anyone really use AOL anymore? Of course, at least AOL still exists. My dad was sure Prodigy would take off. That might be the biggest mistake he made! Anyway, Facebook users who should be banned:

1. The bad profile picture. I don't just mean a bad picture. I mean the picture that says "I think this is an online dating website." Or worse, the picture that says "I think I should be a porn star." You know, the picture that is cropped so you see the face or the chest or the ........ The picture where someone has that coy "Come hither big boy" smile. The picture where the person has that "I want it and I want it now" look. YUCK! Look, I don't really care if you are looking for a date. I don't care if your girlfriend or boyfriend or your eunuch or hermaphrodite doesn't put out. I am not going to either. If you want to put up a picture like that, try Craigslist or the back of your local free weekly or Match.com. Trust me. And that will save us from having to look at it.

2. The quoteaholic. Okay, your Facebook status can be a lot of things: funny, dumb, lame, ridiculous, a statement about what you are doing. But does every status have to be a quote. "To be or not to be." "Love is a battlefield." "Do wa ditty, ditty dum ditty do." "I love you sweatshirt, redhooded, sweatshirt, sham a lam a ding dong." I think I could do a whole blog of quotes. Just quote after quote after quote. But what does that say, other than I know how to use Google? There are something like 21,000,000 websites with famous quotes. So, I can Google and pick them out. (By the way, every quote in here is something I knew without looking up.) Really, it gets old. Stop with the freaking quotes. We don't want them. Maybe a gem once in a while, but not every freaking update. Please?

3. The religious updates. I get that some people are religious. Some people think everything is done by God. I get it. I just read a good book about Liberty University, The Unlikely Disciple. Good book. Go read it. Now. Order it on Amazon. Or email me and ask for my copy. Really. www.kevinroose.com. Anyway, I digress. There is something new. If you want to update your profile with religious quotes, spiritual texts, etc... than go get a page on Myspace for Christians. Yes, it exists. I get it. I take no position on religion. At least not on the blog. It is fine. But its not for everyone and don't put it on your blog everyday. Please? For those of us who may not be as religious as you. Please?

Am I really asking for much? Can we institute a 60 day ban on these things? Please? And can you please update your picture? It doesn't have to be G rated, but how about PG13? Please? I don't want to see any more skin on my friends than absolutely necessary and that is very little!

Three stories about the legal profession

2009-08-29T20:20:00.000-07:00

So, I thought I would share three stories about the legal profession. I think these stories illustrate why people hate lawyers and why being a lawyer isn't all that you think it is. In fact, sometimes it just flat out sucks! How should I do this? Worst to best? Order of how they occurred? Just however it comes out? I vote for the last one. That's how I blog - whatever happens to be said. If you haven't figured that out by now, you are a new reader.

DB #1 - The piss ant paralegal. There are two kinds of paralegals in this world - the good ones and the bad ones. Its really quite simple. I know a couple of good ones. Some are really good. But the bad ones - really bad. And one characteristic of a bad paralegal - they want to be an attorney. They act like an attorney, they talk like an attorney, they think their s*** don't stink like some attorneys. Well, actually, they try to act like an attorney, they try to talk like an attorney and they do think their s*** don't stink like an attorney. You all know this type of person. There is one in every profession.

So little piss any paralegal, Eric or Bill or something like that, no wait, its Eric, calls me up. He wants to talk about a case where his firm did something that is unethical. I explain to him why it was unethical and go through the facts. Now look, I get that sometime there is a disagreement about facts. My client thinks he has a green light and the other party thinks he has a green light. Obviously, both don't have a green light at the same time. But, that is up for discussion. The three letters that Erica sent me (yes, I just called him a woman, problem with that?) that he signed are not up for discussion. His signature is on it. After I lay this out for him, and its all in writing, he says to me, and this is a direct quote, "I am not going to admit to anything." Dude, this isn't admitting to anything. I have your f-ing signature on it. I am not asking you to admit it - I am stating it as a fact. This is not a trial. You are not on the witness stand. However, your statements make me realize that: a) you are a liar, b) you are a sack of flaming poo that someone stepped on after answering their doorbell and c) you should be waterboarded. But, hey, dude, keep it up. I am sure you get far in life by being a no good lying SOB who probably got forced to wash the football team's jock straps after games.

DB #2 - The one eyed lawyer. Okay, so dude may have two eyes, but only one works. And that is even up for debate. I understand neither one works. No, he doesn't have a lazy eye. He has no eye. None. Its like wood or metal or whatever they make fake eyes out of. And those of you who know me really well, no it takes a lot for me to make eye jokes about a guy. I would think if you had one eye, you would be a bit less of a turd. But, no, it turns out one eyed guys are big turds too. Maybe even bigger.

This guy apparently didn't like my contacting him by email. Of course, he never returned my 6 calls or responded to my two faxes. His "call center" said he was never in. I smell a tangent coming. If you run a small business, and by small I mean you are the only employee, you should not have a "call center." If you are going to use an answering service, how about if they just answer the phones "Law Office of Ritr Pesner" and then they tell people you are not in. Easy enough? Anyway, dude sends me a disparaging email and then says he will not communicate with me anymore. Really? What are we, like 5th graders? "I am not talking to you anymore." The difference is that in 5th grade, I would go tell the teacher. Now I will just sue your deadbeat clients. So, it will end up costing them money because you are a moronic idiot. This is a good reason people hate attorneys: some of us are sophomoric pantywastes.

DB #3 - If you are a friend on Facebook or if you have been lucky enough, and I mean that sarcastically, to have me call you in the last 48 hours, you have heard this story. This lady is so ugly that she makes Medusa look like the prom queen. No wait, she is so ugly she makes Susan Boyle looks like Cameron Diaz from a few years ago. You know, when Cameron Diaz was hot. Really hot. So, ugly attorney lady apparently has no social skills. Someone told me that you can't be a b*tch if you are ugly. Apparently, this lady didn't get the message.

So, Thursday my son had to be rushed to the ER. He ended up having an emergency appendectomy. He is still recovering. But, I had a client call me and tell me she needed an answer filed in a case on Thursday. I couldn't do it as I was at the ER. So, I call the attorney and ask for an extension. She tells me no. I explain that I am at the hospital and my son is about to have surgery. And she still tells me no. WTF? My kid is in the hospital and you won't give me an extension of a few days. Not can't, but won't. You are choosing not to. Fine. Do you know what that makes you? That makes you a bleeper bleeper piece of bleep who should be taken out back and smacked until your bleeping attitude changes you worthless bleeper. Or, it makes you the most vile human being I know and a person who thinks that by having a law degree, you need to enforce the law regardless of the circumstances. You are a sad, pathetic excuse for an attorney, no wait, a sad, pathetic excuse for a person. You should have your insides ripped out while you are awake. You should never be able to reproduce. You should have to watch as your most prized possession is cut up and glued back together, you worthless b*tch.

Wheh. I feel better. Oh, and DB stands for douchebag. But you knew that. Now I am going to spend more time with my son and stop dealing with people who have absolutely no clue about how to be a human being, much less a legal professional.

An Open Letter to Alyson Huber

2009-08-25T16:47:00.000-07:00

Look, I know it must be hard being in the legislature. You have to collect your per diem. You have to raise money so you can be re-elected. You have to go to fundraisers and talk to people. You have to collect money from different special interest groups and make sure none of the groups are affiliated with terrorists.

But you also have a job. You have to pass a budget. No wait, that didn't happen properly and is based on faulty assumptions. Sorry. Selling State Compensation Insurance Fund was about as good an idea as say selling access to Assemblymembers. That wouldn't happen. No. Never. You can't make a donation and then be able to talk to an assemblymember. Never. I don't believe it. So, in addition to passing the budget, you have to deal with the water crisis. No wait. That isn't done either. You have to deal with prison overcrowding. Yes. You have an idea. Let's just release 40,000 prisoners. That is a good idea. And there are no public safety issues with that. None. It is a perfect idea - if you are leaving in Simsville.

Instead, you vote on bils without any knowledge. I don't want to beat a dead Michael Jackson, er, horse (is it okay to still make fun of him now that it has been ruled a homicide? or, should I make fun of him more because he was more doped up than Chris Farley?), but let me talk about some recent votes by Huber. You know what, she probably calls herself Attorney Huber or Dr. Huber. We all know those attorneys who do that: "I have a JD degree so you should call me Doctor." Does that mean people who get a BS should be called "Bulls**t Jones?" Just wondering.

Anyway, Huber writes me a letter after I call her office and email her. She thanked me for the emails. Apparently, not for the calls, but only the emails. I guess she would prefer that people not bother her busy staff. After all, it takes a lot of work to organize fundraisers and figure out which conman, er, lobbyist is going to take her to dinner that night. Maybe they have to go get pedicures while their boss sits around not doing her job. I don't know. But, I only got thanked for the emails. Maybe the staff's writing is so bad Huber couldn't read my name. Here is a hint: I am the one who called and wanted to actually get answers but couldn't!

So, she thanks me and tells me she voted for AB 764 because "In some cases, there are individuals who exploit those at their lowest point through exorbitant loan modification fees when in reality, successful loan modifications are completed for free through HUD-certified counseling agencies and lenders." Now those of you who know me personally will know that this sentence and me don't get along for a few reasons.

First, I don't know about the rest of you, but I learned not to use a 25 cent word when a 5 cent word will work. I had to go look up exorbitant. But I was just a state school graduate. It means excessive or extreme. Apparently, when you are voted into public office, you decide to use four syllable words instead of two syllable words. I don't know. Maybe she was trying to confuse me. After all, clearly I ain't that bright.

Second, that is one long sentence. I mean, she puts together like 35 words. 35? I think most of my sentences have five words - maybe ten. One time, at band camp (laugh, that's funny), I put it together with.........I mean I had a sentence with thirteen words. But, 35? Really? Break out some shorter sentences with some active verbs. Look at me - I may have learned something in English class!

Third, successful loan modifications for free from HUD agencies and lenders? Really? Does Huber read the newspaper? Any newspaper? How about my blog? How about any blog? Does she even read? Well, does she read anything in English that carries news? Did she miss the big story that less than 10% of all qualified homeowners have received a loan modification? Was she sleeping that day? Did her staff not alert her to that story? Oh, and the two biggest lenders in California - B of A and Wells Fargo - have done 6% and 4%, respectively. But you go with this ridiculous concept that people are getting them done for free. Next she is going to tell me that criminal defendants always receive a fair trial and no one is on death row mistakenly. Yes, and OJ is really innocent.

I am not asking for much. I am telling you that you aren't getting my vote next time. But, is it that hard to do some independent research before you vote on a bill? Especially a bill that would criminalize behavior when we have no room in our prisons anyway. Stop listening to the streetwalkers who pay you money so you can be re-elected again. Stop listening to folks who want you to vote "their way." Start listening to your constituents and learning the facts. Start doing some homework. Stop being such a ridiculous Lemming who does whatever Karen "I should be fired" Bass tells you to do.

By the way, she signs her letter "Sorry I wasn't able to call you personally." Don't apologize unless you mean it. Don't tell me you are sorry unless you really are sorry. If you don't mean it, don't say it. I am fine with you not calling me back. It decreases the chances I will pick up a disease. Isn't the rule that if A kisses B and then B kisses C that C has kissed A? Doesn't this work for legislators as well? If legislator A talks to disgusting voter buyer B and then legislator A talks to constituent C that C has talked to B and can pick up whatever B had? YUCK! I don't need to pass that on.

Responsibility and Weenies

2009-08-22T19:38:00.000-07:00

Okay, I do not mean like Liberty Mutual. "When people do it, its called responsibility. When an insurance company does it, its Liberty Mutual." No, its not. Its called marketing. You are marketing your company. You want people to see you as compassionate and great. You want them to pay you money. And, Liberty Mutual is not compassionate. They do not go to great lengths to help anyone.

Their claims are handled by people who generally cannot put out a full paragraph of thought. Seriously, I received a letter from one of their adjusters that was two sentences. Incomplete sentences. No verb. How do you consider that responsible? Responsible would be hiring people who understand proper usage of the English language. I am pretty sure my high school English teacher (who probably is smart enough not to read this) taught me how to write a complete sentence. It is not that hard.

If you want responsible, try paying claims in a timely manner. How about this: when someone is rear ended, do not deny liability for the accident? If you refuse to settle the claim, when you receive a request for admission that says "Admit the front of Defendant's car struck the rear of Plaintiff's car" respond by saying "Admit" instead of "Defendant cannot admit nor deny." You can - you choose not to. That is not responsible. It is a decision. And I am fine with it, but then don't tell people how responsible you are. That is called hypocritical.

Sorry. That was a long tangent. I really didn't mean to go there. It just happens sometimes.

Responsibility means that you are open and honest. You take a position and you stand by it. You don't run and hide. At least, that is what it means in the context of this post. Look, if you run an organization, be it a non-profit, a corporation, or your local homeowners crazy group, er, association, you are sometimes forced to make a decision. It happens. That is why you are the leader. You make the decision and you stand by it. Some people won't like it. But when they don't, you defend your position.

It really isn't that hard. Lets say you decide not to publicly oppose bad legislation. When someone says "Why didn't you oppose it?" you say "We didn't oppose it because................" I don't really care what comes after the because. It could be "because we are lame arses who couldn't understand the impact of the legislation." It could be "because we aren't smart enough to figure out the legislation." It could be "because we wussed out." It could be "because we don't want to upset someone else."

You see, the reason is less important than the fact that you stand by your position. Let me give you a real life situation. In the 80s, there was the Tylenol scare. Those of you too young to remember should google it. Johnson and Johnson pulled all Tylenol off the store shelves. People thought it was a dumb move and questioned it. And the response was simple: "We did this because we thought it was the right thing to do." Voila - problem solved. Tylenol sales shot up after it was back on the market.

You see, they explained it. It may not have been the world's most eloquent defending of a decision. It may not have even been the right decision. But they made a decision, stood by it and defended it. Now that example is used in business schools around the country as a case study.

However, other people, sit by and refuse to explain their decisions. I guess that's fine if you are a weenie. Seriously. Its like the little kid who is losing in the neighborhood football game so says "I am taking my ball and going home." That kid is a weenie. Admit it - that is what you called him growing up. Those weenies grow up to be today's weenies. And today's weenies do the same thing.

"I decided not to do x." So, why did you decide not to do x? "I am not saying." Really? That is your best comeback. Its like saying "I am rubber. You are glue. Whatever you say bounces off of me and sticks on you." Seriously, it is like playing a game of Snaps and using "Yo mama so ugly she don't wear a Halloween costume." Seriously. Its lame. (By the way, try this: Yo mama so ugly she makes Michael Jackson look like George Clooney or try this: Yo mama so white she makes Michael Jackson look like he did in the 80s or try this: Yo mama so hairy she makes a poodle look bald.)

If you want to play with the big boys, you explain yourself. Plain and simple. You don't want to explain yourself? Then go teach law school. By yourself. At some place like Lorenzo Patino School of Law (bar passage rate: -15%. Yes, they actually have more students fail than graduate). Until you are ready to do that, you aren't ready to lead a troupe of Brownies.

Party City

2009-08-19T17:07:00.000-07:00

Party City hits me as the kind of place Bill and Ted would visit. You know, the folks with the Excellent Adventure, followed by the Bogus Adventure. Wasn't Keanu Reeves in the movie? He couldn't act back then. Still can't.

Maybe Party City is where the "420" people go. Okay, am I the only one who thinks that calling it 420 is dumb. First, everyone knows what you are talking about. Its not a secret or a code or anything. Second, just say the word - pot. There, that wasn't so hard. In fact, its shorter which is a good thing for you potheads who sometimes have trouble putting together multiple syllables.

Anyway, Party City is also a place in my town that sells party supplies. We had a little baby shower on Saturday. It was done nicely by my wife's friend. Well, I have been told. I didn't attend the shower. But, that's another story. So, I offered to order the balloons and pick them up. We needed 24 pink balloons. Not that hard. Pink balloons and pink strings. How hard can this be?

So, I call Party City but they don't take orders over the phone or over the internet. Are they stuck in the 1990s? Seriously. No internet orders? No phone orders? For balloon. Sheesh!

I drive over there and I am in line behind two guys who look to be 18 or so. One guy has on a white t-shirt, a silver vest and a matching silver driver's hat. They wanted to order a balloon, apparently for some girl. So, the conversation goes like this, and I swear I am not making it up:

Guy 1: I want the hot dog.
Guy 2: The hot dog?
Guy 1: Yes, I want the hot dog.
Guy 2: Why do you want the hot dog?
Guy 1: I like the hot dog.

(Notice the lack of the word balloon in the conversation. Dude apparently wanted the hot dog. What is the hot dog? Don't even go there. I already did and it was funny. But it goes on:)

Employee: We don't have the hot dog balloon.
Guy 1: Oh. What do you have?
Employee: Almost anything else. What's the occasion?
Guy 1: I want to impress a girl. And I know the way to a girl's heart.

(Really? A girl's heart? Dude, you want us to believe that. He hasn't met a girl's heart he was wanted in his life. Nor will he. There is nothing wrong with that, but just be honest about it.)

Employee: How about something else?
Guy 1: How about the tank?
Employee: The tank?
Guy 1: She will like it.
Guy 2: Really, the tank?
Guy 1: Oh yeah. She will think its sweet.

(Sweet. A tank? Are you high? A tank might be sweet for a woman in the US Army where she can be all that she can be, but to an 18 year old girl I don't think its sweet. But that's just me.)

So, finally its my turn. I go up and ask for 24 pink latex balloons. The girl tells me I need to get the balloons out of the little containers under the counter. Of course, the containers are labeled, but people mix them up. So there is pink and red and peach and some with a design on them. But, being smart like that, I could find the pink ones and count them out. 1, 2, 3, 4.................. You get the idea.

I put the balloons on the counter and give them to the girl. She looks for an order form. She can't find one. She asks someone else for an order form. That person doesn't have them either. Really, how hard is this? Its an order form! So, she decides to write it down on a little notepad piece of paper.

She asks for my name, address, phone number and pick up time. Easy enough, right? This should have been my first sign that I went to Party Ghetto and not Party City. She puts all 24 balloons in a ziploc bag. No, not a bag that zips closed, but the bag actually said ZIPLOC on it. She then takes the little notepad paper and puts it IN THE ZIPLOC BAG! This does not inspire confidence.

Then it gets worse. She takes said ziploc bag and hands it to me. She tells me to walk down to the cash register to pay. At this point, I have no faith in their ability to blow..............up my balloons. I walk down to the cash register and the girls takes the baggie. (No, not the dime baggie, the 2.4 dime baggie.) She then proceeds to enter all of my information into the computer.

Now, I don't want to tell anyone how to run their company, but if you are going to take my information, write it down and then have someone enter it into a computer, I can suggest a way to streamline the process. How about you give me the little bag of stuff and I walk it down to the cash register and just tell that girl my information? Wouldn't that be easier and not require the use of a little note pad? Now, maybe I am wrong, but I am pretty sure this would be easier.

Of course, what do they do at this point? They take my money. Not a problem. They print out a receipt for me. They print out a receipt for them and they put it in the little baggie. The receipt with all of my information. The information that I told them so they could write down so they could then enter into a computer and throw away the piece of paper only to print it out on a 2nd piece of paper and put it back in the baggie. Really, could you make this more complicated? I think I can. How about this:

I write down the information on a piece of paper and hand it to you so that you can copy it onto an order form, then give me the order form to have me read it to the cashier, who can then enter it into the computer, print out a piece of paper to have me verify it, throw that paper away, print out a receipt and put it in the bag.

Otherwise, they have the most complicated program I have seen. Seriously, is this place run by Darrell Steinberg and Karen Bass. The legislature could make this process harder, but that's about it.

So, as I leave the store, I am worried. Who wouldn't be? I need these balloons at 10am the next morning. 9am comes and guess what? "Mr. Stein, this is Partay Citay and we aren't sure what balloons you ordered. Could you tell us what your order is?" "Um, 24 pink balloons with pink strings."

Seriously, this place needs a makeover. You know, like Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. Let's call it Extreme Makeover: Business Edition. In our premier episode, Party City is imploded and not rebuilt. Just end it. Now. Please.

What the heck is wrong with lawyers?

2009-08-17T19:31:00.000-07:00

Someone, please tell me. Okay, save the jokes. Why don't sharks eat lawyers? Professional courtesy. How can you tell when a lawyer is lying? His mouth is moving. yeah, yeah, yeah, I get it. Been there, done that. Most aren't funny. Sorry.

But, seriously, what the hell is wrong with lawyers? Are we dumb? Stupid? Or do we think that the rules of society do not apply to us because we have a JD? Or are we just asses?

I get a deposition notice in the mail today. Its for my wife's due date. I write a nice simple letter back explaining that she is due on that date and that I am not scheduling things for a few weeks before and a few weeks after. I mean, most people who work for big companies take paternity leave. Heck, I have a friend (Can I call you a friend?) who works for a small company and took time off when his son was born. I think its just a common understanding. After all, she didn't get pregnant by herself. At least, that is what I am told. Really, is this so unreasonable?

So, dude calls me up. Actually, dude is too nice. Dweeb calls me up. No, dweeb is too nice. DB (douche bag) calls me up. (I am the only one who remembers the commercial for Summer's Eve. Mom and daughter are walking on the beach and the daughter looks at mom and says "Mom. Can I ask you a personal question? Do you douche?" Seriously, would anyone actually ask that to their mom. I am buying a coffee for anyone who can prove to me that they would say that to their mom. And not a cheap McCafe coffee, but a real Starbucks coffee. Venti size. Extra hot, 2 1/2 pump, caf and a half, with whip.) Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, DB calls me up and says "We are proceeding with the deposition that day anyway and you need to find a contract attorney."

In the real world, people say "Oh, your wife is expecting. Congratulations. Let me see what we can do to work around your schedule." Or maybe "Congratulations. Lets worry about this after." But, not attorneys. At least not DB. DB thinks that his case is so important that he should ignore the fact that its my wife's due date and take his deposition anyway.

Um, not sure if he gets this, but his case is about money. And money that my client is paying back weekly. Its not like his client needs to get any information since my client is paying his client back. Quickly. And my wife is having a baby. A little person. A human being. She grew a finger last week. She might grow another finger next week.

Lets compare: person versus money? Actually, person versus money that is being repaid? Not really that big of a deal. But apparently it is to this guy. Here is an idea: stop being an a****** and start being a person. I am sure your client would love to know that you are a DB and think his money is more important than a person. I mean, I think my clients would be mortified if I told them that I thought taking a deposition is more important than someone being with his wife when she is having a baby.

Hey DB - here is an idea: Go douche yourself and let me know how that feels. Until then, there is not going to be a deposition anywhere near when my wife delivers.

Views from the Daddy to be Side

2009-08-13T20:20:00.000-07:00

Tuesday was a fun day. I had a court hearing on Tuesday. Then we had a baby birthing class. Apparently, to have a baby, you need to go to class now. I didn't know that having had three kids already. But, if you want want to come out of your wife's stomach, apparently a class helps. (By the way, we had a great instructor and you can see her blog at http://gentlebeginnings.blogspot.com/ and her best post at http://gentlebeginnings.blogspot.com/2008/10/bribing-your-nurse.html Thanks Theresa!)

But before we went to birthing class, I had to go to court. I thought I would be a nice husband and take my wife to breakfast before court. A bagel at Noah's is a good breakfast. Then we went to court. This is an auxiliary court with only 2 courtrooms. There are about 10 chairs to sit in. Its a nice little place.

So we get there and my wife, who is very pregnant, is standing next to me. The seats are all taken. When I was a kid, my dad taught me that you offer your seat to a woman. You especially offer your seat to a pregnant woman. Now, some of these seats were taken by women, but I think in the hierarchy of seats it is elderly woman, elderly man, disabled woman, disabled man, pregnant woman, woman, child, man. So the non-pregnant woman could have offered her seat. But she was too stuck in her "I am a lawyer" mode to notice anyone or anything around her.

For those of you who do not know, I am a lawyer mode is when you are so stuck on being a lawyer that you do not realize that there is a world around you. Some signs to look for: a person introduces himself as "Hi, I am Bob and I am a lawyer;" a person relates every story to the law ("Did you hear that it is going to be 100 tomorrow?" "No, really? I am going to go to court and argue that res ipsa loquitor is a bad idea."); a person puts JD on their license plate as in BOBJD or BOBESQ; and a person uses big words when a small word applies as in "That is more than mere puffery" instead of the better "That is BS!"

But, there were guys there waiting for court. Dude #1 was in a double breasted suit. Double breasted suits went out with the mullet, Achy Breaky Heart, and Billy "Stroke Me" Squire. Seriously, a poorly fitting double breasted suit is more unfortunate than Speedo, no wait, more unfortunate than camel toe. (Sorry, I had to go there.)

Dude #2 was wearing a blue pinstriped suit. Nothing wrong with that, right? I have a blue pinstripe suit. Of course, mine was not the $99 special. But his blue pinstripe suit was being worn with a blue and white checked shirt...........and a horizontal striped tie. Knit. Poorly. I am no Clinton Kelly or Stacy London (who really needs to get rid of the gray stripe in her hair that makes her look like a skunk - a skanky skunk) but even I knew this outfit didn't work - ever. Not even in the 70s.

Dude #3 was too busy keeping his comb-over in place. I thought comb-over's went the way of Michael Jackson's pigmentation. (If you want to be my lover, it don't matter if your black or white - as long as you don't mind that I am opaque. Billie Jean's not my lover/I had my thing removed during my 118th plastic surgery. Okay, enough with the Michael Jackson songs - for this month!) The comb-over looked so bad, I thought the guy liked unicorn porn. No wait, that's not it. Unicorn porn is when the woman..........nevermind. I mean, hermaphrodite porn. (Yes, it exists and I known of someone who likes it. I haven't watched it - but if you have, leave a comment. No wait, don't leave a comment. That's just wrong. Plain wrong. Go get help. Now. Please? I will even pay for your first session.)

Anyway, none of these guys could offer the pregnant lady a seat. I am not asking for much, but offer a woman a seat, you poorly dressed dweebs.

So, after we were in court, it was baby class. This was our last baby class. It was week 5. Technically, it was a 6 week program but the last class is a hospital tour. We did our hospital tour. I wrote about it before. Remember, the non pregnant lady who was taking a tour and taking notes. Huh? Or how about the lady whose husband is a doctor and decided to yell at the nurse who was giving the tour? Nice, lady.

So, it was our last class. And the teacher was nice. And some of the people in class were. Well, most of the people. One guy had to turn everything into a sexual comment. Look, it is not that hard to turn "hands and knees position" into something sexual. I know 14 year olds who could make that joke. My left "toe" (yes toe is a euphemism for another word) could make that joke. Its not that hard. The key to good humor is to take the tough thing and turn it into something funny. So, take the comment about the nanny, well, maybe she was a nanny, and turn that into something funny. And funny doesn't have to be sexual. Go read my Michael Jackson posts. Those were funny. And not sexual. If you can't joke with the big dogs, go play in high school. Please? (By the way, when you have a kid, those jokes will be a lot less funny and you will have to learn to expand your horizons in the humor department!)

Now I feel better!

AAJ Names New President..........

2009-08-10T19:05:00.000-07:00

...........and for some reason they think we care. First, you are asking "AAJ?" Did this crazy guy get something stuck in his throat? What the heck is AAJ? No, I am not at the dentist when I write this. No, the doctor is not using a tongue depressor on me. (Admit it, you are impressed I could spell depressor on the first try.)

AAJ is the American Association for Justice. You see, it used to be called ATLA - the Association of Trial Lawyers of America. Then they paid a consultant a lot of money. That consultant decided that they needed to change their name. After all, apparently calling oneself a trial lawyer is not descriptive enough for them. Justice is more descriptive. So ATLA had a meeting and only those members in attendance could vote. They voted to change the name despite quite a bit of outcry from members who couldn't afford to go to the meeting.

Remember, this is all consultant driven. Oh, and guess what - these consultants weren't trial lawyers or former trial lawyers. These were your run of the mill MBA consultants who couldn't figure out what a trial lawyer was without a picture book by Roald Dahl. Consultants have one purpose - paperweights. Well, some of them. Some of them have a second purpose - shark food. After all, you need to keep the sharks happy somehow and eating consultants is not a bad way of doing it. (Note: I don't mean to lump all consultants in to one group, some actually do a good job. It just so happens I can count them on one hand and two of them are friends of mine!)

So ATLA changed its name to AAJ. AAJ sounds like you just puked. Actually, remember the frog in the blender game on your 286? (If you don't get a 286, you were not a computer geek!) AAJ sounds like the sound the frog made just before it went to froggy heaven - or froggy milkshake in this case. Its not even a word. Maybe we should toss it in with Web 2.0 for the 1,000,001 word that is not an actual word. Remember, Web 2.0 is TWO WORDS so it cannot be the millionth word in the English language.

I, along with others, then quit ATLA. I still call it ATLA. Why did we quit? Because I am not a just lawyer. I am not a member of the Hall of Justice ("Back at the hall of Justice, Attorney Jones was typing a brief in his briefs with his briefcase nearby after a brief break with Secretary Smith.") I am not a superhero. I am a trial lawyer. Plain and simple. I sue people - and I like it. (Raise your hand if you heard me say that before.) When a client calls and asks for "justice," I politely refer them to some new lawyer or some shmuck down the street.

So now they have elected some new guy President. He is a partner in some huge law firm with 15 partners. They handled "disasters" including Pan Am Flight 103. Apparently, he is in the business of justice. I still don't understand how you get justice for clients, but I am sure he must be smarter than me. Maybe he can explain it to me. Of course, I would also like to know how you get paid when you get people justice. Maybe if you have 15 partners you can afford to get people justice. But most of us are just trying to get our clients compensated for their losses or stop some bad behavior of some mean debt collector. Of course, this is the same ridiculous group that has a former President who was a partner in a firm that defended insurance companies - the same people we regularly sue. Thats not a conflict of interest or anything.

So, memo to Kyle Murphy at Justice.org: I DON'T CARE THAT YOU ELECTED SOME GUY PRESIDENT. Dude is not a trial lawyer. Dude is not a consumer lawyer. Dude is some rich guy who is out of touch with most Americans. Hey, that sounds like most politicians. Apparently if you are elected to any position it is a requirement that you be out of touch with most people. Remove me from your list and stop with your nonsense emails. Oh, and next time you decide to send out an email like this, try having a professional journalist write it. I have a few I can recommend who are really good.

Calderon, Nava, Miller and NACA

2009-08-03T18:48:00.000-07:00

For those of you who don't remember, the geniuses at the State Capitol have decided to introduce SB 94and AB 764. These bills, by Senator Calderon and Assemblymember Nava, would basically ban consumers from getting help from attorneys in foreclosures. Howard Miller, president elect of the State Bar, wrote a letter supporting these bills while the current State Bar president, Holly Fujie, was on vacation in Italy. Apparently it wasn't important enough for her to return to attend the meeting, hook up a web cam or break out the old reliable AT&T to call in to the meeting.

Anyway, while these bill will make it so consumers cannot get legal help, hey will allow NACA to continue. NACA in this case is the Neighborhood Assistance Corporation of America, an alleged non profit. I say alleged because a non profit can still make a profit. These folks, me thinks, make a profit.

So, NACA was in Cleveland and claimed to do 5,000 loan modifications between a Friday and a Monday. Folks, that is 1,250 per day - including weekends. Call your bank on Saturday. Let me know if they are open. See if you can get a loan modification on a Saturday. Call on Sunday and see if you can get a person to even answer the freaking phone. You can't. Trust me on this. But NACA is claiming 5,000 over 4 days. Some people just don't believe them and the BBB won't give an endorsement to NACA because of a "lack of transparency."

Let me see if I get this right. I know where I get paid - its the client. I do the work and can document the work that is done. The client pays for work and the work is done. Its not always successful but anyone who claims a 100% success rate is a liar - of the worst kind.

NACA on the other hand won't, can't or chooses not to say how it gets paid. Some of questioned their payments. Are they being paid by lenders? Are they being paid by the borrower? Are they being paid by the Feds? Are they being paid twice on a case? Three times? They won't answer the questions - hence the lack of transparency cited by the BBB.

Of course, Nava and Calderon, in their lack of ability to think things through, are about to create a system where only NACA and its ilk will even be able to offer services to homeowners. Well, NACA and the banks, who will have no oversight by anyone. That should be a good system - if you don't mind the inmates running the prisons.

Once again - Senator Calderon, Assemblymember Nava and Howard Miller, I make the same offer to you - a public debate about loans, foreclosures and the system. You name the time and the place. I will be there. Now, since the three of you think you have no accountability, I don't expect any of you take me up on it, but if you decide, I am here. Any takers?

Today's Song Lyrics

2009-07-30T20:08:00.000-07:00

(WARNING: This post contains adult content and an adult topic.)

Have you listened to the radio lately? Try one of those top 40 stations. This ain't your Casey Kasem America's Top 40. (You know you sang that tune when saying America's Top 40. You have to. Its hardwired into you. Everyone does it.) They play songs that make fingernails going down a blackboard sound good. And the lyrics make Biz Markie sound like a poet. You know Biz Markie, he of the famous lyrics "I asked her her name, she said blah-blah-blah/ She had 9/10 pants and a very big bra." (For those of you over 50 and an attorney in San Jose, you should check it out here: www.youtube.com/watch?v=jSDXcpXJr4M I mean, this is singing at its best!)

I know its not Tesla or Judas Priest. (Hey, if you like them check out Rockalottapus at www.robarnieanddawn.com where tickets are still available. Of course, if you don't like Tesla, Whitesnake and Judas Priest, why the heck are you going to this lame concert? I mean, watching a cat fight (no, not two women, actual cats fighting) would be more interesting.) But this is some good quality writing. A few examples:

1. Jeremih has a song called "Birthday Sex." It is about sex on one's birthday. Are you surprised? I mean, at least Meatloaf was writing songs about sex and not calling it sex. Who can forget Paradise By the Dashboard Light. Yes, paradise is a euphemism for something else! Jeremih sings:

"See you sexy in them jeans got me on 10/1-2-3... Think I got you pinned/Don't tap out, fight until the end/Ring that bell, and we gon start over again...."

I know Jeremih isn't that bright since his parents apparently thought there was a 7 letter limit on names like license plates. Dude, can I call him dude?, apparently thinks that sex is like the UFC. He doesn't even want her to stop - he wants to go until she blacks out. Really? I don't know about the rest of you, but that is so not how I do it. I think we call that rape in some states.

2. Pitbull has a song called "I Know You Want Me." Now, Pitbull is a white guy who looks like a dweeb. No wait, dweeb is an overstatement. He has dark sunglasses and keeps the microphone so close to his mouth it looks a bit like he is giving fellatio while rapping. His cool lyrics:

"Mami got an ass like a donkey, with a monkey/look like King Kong, welcome to the crib/305 thats what it is/with a woman down ya s*** dont play games...."

Seriously. What the heck does this mean? She has an ass like a donkey? Does that mean it is hairy? Does she have a tail? If so, I think we call that beastiality. And, even if it weren't illegal, I have one thing to say: YUCK! Disgusting. Dude, you want a donkey? Not just any donkey, but a donkey with a monkey? What the hell does that mean? Does she look like King Kong? Cause, I have to tell you, in all of the times I have thought about a woman, she has NEVER EVER EVER looked like King Kong. I mean, there was a Julia Stiles phase, and a Diane Lane phase but never a King Kong phase. Ever. Pitbull clearly needs some help. Dr. Drew? Paging Dr. Drew. No wait, Dr. Phil would rather whore himself out to help Pitbull like he offered to do with Brittany.

3. Baby Bash has a song called "Suga, Suga." Notice the lack of "r" on Suga, Suga. If it were sugar, sugar, we would be talking baking. But, this dude is talking about something else. Apparently. I am not really sure what he is talking about. He sings:

"you like my sticky icky or my sweet ooey gooey"

Really, do I have to make that clearer for you? Is that not clear enough? YUCK! How can you sing about that? At least Paperboy was a bit cleaner in Ditty when he sang:

"Cuz now that I'm rich so many women wanna do me"

Of course, if you saw Paperboy, you would know that the women who wanna do him need a little Lasik. At least some Acuvue. I mean, maybe he can rap, but I am guessing women don't wanna do him. (By the way, how do you tell if he is a good rapper? Is the angle of the gangsta lean in the car an indication of the quality of the rapper?)

I am pretty sure I can write crap like this. How about this:

I am cruisin' for the chicks,
I just got done usin' my Bics,
My head is clean shave,
I think I found a girl who is my fave,
I'm gonna pop and lock and hit that,
While she screams and moans with the kitty cat.

(Okay, its not good. I get that. My rapping skills suck. I am as bad as Shaq at rapping. I get it. I know. I admit it. The point of this is not my rapping skills or my writing skills. Its called a parody people. Laugh!)

I am voting that all bad music be banned forever. And if you write a bad song, you should go join TI in jail. Or maybe we should send you to live with Richard Hatch!

Five Things I Think I Think

2009-07-29T20:13:00.000-07:00

With apologies to Peter King of Sports Illustrated. But, heck, he only did it with three. I managed to up the ante, Peter. I got 5. Can you do 7? Think of it like Name That Tune, in reverse. "Bob, I can think about 5 things." "Well, Bob, that's nice, but I can think about 7 things." Bob: "Mark, can you think about 9 things?" "No. I am going to make him THINK THOSE THINGS!" (APPLAUSE)

So, without further nonsensical ramblings, 5 things I think I think:

1. Internet marketing companies - Have you ever noticed how many internet marketing companies use spam to market? They want me to hire them and their method of getting my attention is spam. What the heck? I thought if you were good at internet marketing, I would Google "internet marketing company" and you would come up first. After all, if I Google for lawyer marketing, Smart Marketing comes up first. No, that is not a shameless plug for my friend Mark Merenda. It is just a fact. He comes up first. If you are a marketing company run by a guy who sounds like a cow, then you do not come up first. Of course, Mark also doesn't tell you that anything about Nazi's are good. Another good reason to hire him! But, I digress - again. If you claim to be a marketing consultant and you have to spam me, doesn't it tell me everything I need to know about your marketing skills? Just wondering.

2. Make up - what is the deal with woman wearing eye make up that runs up their foreheads and to their ears? I get a little eye shadow is nice. It can bring out the color of your eyes. It can look pretty. But, running it up your face, across the forehead and to the ears? That just screams "I think Tami Faye Baker was pretty." You might as well wear a sign that says "My brother is also my father." I mean, the only thing worse than this make up, is having a tattoo across your chest and up your neck. YUCK! Guys do not find either look attractive. Trust me on this. I promise. If you can find a guy who thinks it is attractive, I will show you a guy who thinks Stacey London is attractive. (Note to Stacey: if you are going to tell people what to wear, someone should tell you this: that little streak of gray hair in the front is lame. Give it up!)

3. Muscle shirts - why the hell do guys wear these shirts? What are you trying to prove? That you have muscles? Great. Thanks for the notice. But, dude, if your shirt has less material than a Sports Illustrated swimsuit model bathing suit, you are not cool. In fact, you may want to consider attending LA - Losers Anonymous. You are doing it to show everyone how cool you are. Guess what? You aren't cool. You aren't much. At least, I am pretty sure that is what your girlfriend said when she saw you showering. I mean, your shirt material, all 3", could be used to make your jock strap. At least, that's what I heard. Put on a shirt, you weenie-less weenie. Get a life!

4. Hi, its me - Really? It's you? Thanks. Now, just tell me this: WHO ARE YOU? How am I supposed to recognize your voice? Sure, I know my wife's voice. I can recognize my kids. I even know the voice of my mother, who doesn't call me that often - or ever. But, after that, I probably can't recognize your voice. Sure, if you have a strange accent and you call me, I can probably figure it out. But, if you are Sally Field or Sally Struthers or Sally States, I probably don't recognize your voice. Well, Sally States I do because she has an accent. But the rest of you, is it that hard to say "Hi, its Suzy." It really is one syllable more than "me" and not that hard. Try it - you might like the sound of your own name, unless your name is something like Tyneia or Erica.

5. Cologne - really, do guys still wear cologne? Really? I mean, I think I outgrew cologne when I was like 17. I used to wear Polo. I admit it - I was a preppie. I wore Polo cologne. But I cannot think of the last time I wore cologne. And there are ads for cologne everywhere. Do guys actually put this on? Or is it muscle shirt guy who wears it? I mean, who else would wear this stuff. Do women actually like the smell? Wait, even I know that answer - women like the smell of cologne as much as they like Al Bundy's hand down his britches. (Come on - the use of britches there was brilliant, just brilliant. You weren't expecting it. I feel like Matt Damon in Ocean's Thirteen talking to his dad - the nose sold it. The britches sold it. Admit it already!) How about we give the cologne a break? Please? The women of the world will appreciate it.

So, there you go. Five things I think. I beat Peter King. I beat Peter King! Na ni na ni poo poo!