Scoplaw

"You are truly an evil legal genius."

Or so claims a more Sr. attorney following an MJOA win on our latest trial case. 

This one was kind of interesting.  It featured a witness disclosed just before trial, a mid voir dire deposition, a most completely boneheaded sidebar objection by yours-truly, and a smorgasbord of strategy options.  Some of this has to stay under wraps of course, but basically the Mentally Stable Trial Partner (MSTP) and I put in a couple of 14 hour days.  We had to attend to our usual overwheming caseload, then process a lot of last minute info on the fly.  At the close of the first day of testimony, we still had three distinct but mutually exclusive legal strategies intact.  Basically, whatever evidenciary path we traveled would exclude certain arguments.  So, after consulting with the Kyacker, I bit the bullet and made a call on which avenue we should go down.  Hours of prep work got thrown in the trash.  MSTP grinned and bore it, and we went after a new argument.

I thought it was kind of fun and audacious and stressful, given that I had no caselaw on the issue - no FL state cases, no Federal cases interpreting FL law.  All I had was a close reading of a FL statute.  So MSTP and I made the argument and, because my judge actually thinks about issues, we won. 

Actually, it was kind of impressive.  We had three grounds for our motion.  He ruled correctly on the first one (we should have lost it), he then ruled correctly on the second one (we should have lost it - even though the state didn't actually give the correct reason for why we should have lost it), he then ruled correctly on my somewhat original argument.  And by somewhat original, I just mean that no one who lost at trial on that charge ever apparently preserved my same argument and appealed it.

My client was facing a 10 year minimum mandatory sentence because he was enhanced.  So I'm kind of stoked.  Except I'm completely exhausted.  Stokausted?  Actually I have a lot of residual trial energy which might keep me up and going, but I feel kind of dull.

Now drinking a beer and singing along to the Pouges (A Rainy Night in Soho on the top of the playlist) as I try to keep all things put off for the past few days afloat.  I'm so looking forward to my next open day. 

4th (july/post-hiatus-post)

Well, the July 4th weekend has arrived, and thusfar it's been quite nice - dinner with The Mayor and family, unexpected work productivity (yeah, yeah) and a hike/ride, sadly gatorless, in the 'glades.  Also, excellent random conversations with a jeweler re: the recession, and some lesbian chicks on a bridge. 

Last July 4th, I hung out with the Cyclist Grrrl and some of her peeps out in unincorporated Miami-Dade lands.  There was beer, trains, and some good jokes/discussions.  We cycled there, which was pretty nice in this car crazy town. 

The Fourth-Before, the CAnarchist and I were chilling in San Diego - ocean side hikes, dolphins, and unfortunate bar study. 

The Third Fourth I spent with Lyco in Charlottesville/Shenandoah - great eating and river hiking and bicycling about (including Monticello).  There was also the horrible rabbit-road bike incident, which everyone survived, thankfully.

The Fourth Fourth was spent on the Potomac river with Lyco, and was mostly DC chill, cook-in/picnic style.  There were swarms of those annoying midges on the river though.  

So there's clearly a hiking/river/bicycling/food pattern going on here.  Which I think is good.  However, this fourth I have not had a really good cheese yet.  All the others featured good cheese.  My sense of subjective time is so screwed up though.  Really, all the prior fourths seem like decades ago.  But I don't think I felt that way even last year.  This was also the first fourth I've had in the same 100 miles as the prior fourth.  Am I fidgety because I've been in the same place too long?  Sigh.  If so, Gods of travel attend me.

Well, that was interesting.

Got pulled into a trial, last minute, as the second chair when another APD was not able to be there.  I was tagged with the Voir Dire, which, of course, I love to do.  Except it was on a life felony, which was kinda, you know, stressful.  However, I liked the jury we ended up with.

I'll spare y'all the blow by blow of the pre trial issues.  The trial case resolved today with a five year global plea on the client's two open cases which contained seven charges total.  Two had a maximum life sentence, some had 10 year min mans (minimum mandatory sentencing provisions), some had 3 year min mans.

It's always the client's decision as how they want to resolve their case.  As, of course it should be.  After all, they (and their loved ones) are the people most affected by the decision to plea a case or take it to trial.  So I'm not disappointed *in* my client's choice to plea, but speaking as "just" a trial attorney, I so very much wanted to try this case.  I think my instincts were correct because I got to talk to the jury in the hallway - turns out the two people I was unsure of would have come down on our side, given the bare facts of what we expected would come out at trial.  However, there was that other case. . .

I expect the usual reward for a job well done.  Which is why I may go into hiding soon. 

If I Pretend to be Back. . .

then the random observation that El Gato Perfecto loves it when I sing with Coldplay would not go amiss.

Whiter the Blog Goeth. . .

Well, what can I say?  I haven't been blogging.   It's been so long, the TypePad interface has completely changed from the last time I logged in.

And the reason I'm back?  Oh, a combination of guilt and boredom, I'd say.  The guilt comes from a co-worker who noted I was not blogging, whereas the boredom comes from life in general.

It's not really boredom though - it's sort of part burn-out, part learning-curve at work, part actually-doing-stuff.  But even with all this activity, In the ven diagram of my life and the blogging world, there's very little overlap right now. 

Professionally, there's not much to blog about since felony cases tend to stretch out for awhile.  So I'd rather not talk about the research I'm doing, or interesting things I've come across on open cases.  Then again, a huge part of that (as in Juive) is just unbloggable because of client confidentiality.  In terms of "reportage," which comprised a lot of my county blogging (i.e., things on the court record I can talk about) a lot of my felony cases plea out.  I tend to get very good results for my clients.  But blogging about it. . .kinda weird, possibly boring.  I also don't really want to write a lot about the caseload litigation, or about my typical "day" in the office, lest I be called as a witness or quoted or cited or something - and dealing with that would just completely hamper my already sadly overburdened practice.

Poetically, the wells been kind of dry lately.  It happens.  It could overflow at anytime, and, because I'm feeling, eh, kind of aware of it, that anytime should be soon.  I did have a good recent run of poetry, only one of which got posted to the blog.  It's complicated.  Sometimes the poems aren't really written for the general reader - they're written to a specific person or to myself.  I don't really share a lot of those here.  However, I may be doing some recording with a musician down here, which'll be fun.  I've often done this and it's always quite cool whatever happens.

Personally, I lead a somewhat boring life, one mostly eaten by the job.  I don't cook as much as I used to, bike as much, or get out as much.  This has led to a general dissatisfaction, to say nothing of the lack of blogging topics.  I'm not sure if it's Miami, or my job, or me, or all.  I do need to change something though.  I don't want to take the past six months and repeat them 10 more times.  Should I stay?  Should I go?  Eh.  I'll take a few bars and see what my options are - as of this moment I am not in full flight mode.

There's also been assorted unbloggable drama recently.  I feel like I've taken on a lot of problems (not mine) and have done well with them.  Again, unfortunately for blogging purposes, the details are not mine to share.  (Although I note it here for my own bad memory.)

So, what can I talk about?

Well, I had my first Felony trial recently.  Client was charged with Battery on a L.E.O. and Resisting With Violence, both thrid degree felonies.  I second chaired it, but did the voir dire, one cross (minimal) and the close.  The client was found guilty of the lesser-included misdemeanor charge of Resisting Without Violence, for which they were put on probation.  Yea!  That's clearly a victory in PD parlance.  No felony conviction, no loss of civil rights, no hideous collateral consequences for employment, immigration, child custody, no jail time, no prison time, and so on. 

I also had two County Court convictions overturned since I've been in Felonies.  Which is niiiiiice.  So far I'm 2 for 2.  One guy got an automatic JOA on remand (basically the trial court must find him not guilty.)  I felt so bad for him when we went to trial and lost; the details are kind of sadly pathetic.  Basically wrong place, wrong time - and he was there because he was trying to find his emotionally/mentally impaired brother who had wandered away from home.  Here's the weird thing though - my life has been so work hectic that I wasn't sure I went on the trial, or if I had just been there in court for it, and had given up my spot to an intern or something (which I did a few times).  So I pulled the transcript from appeals and sure enough, I was on the trial.  It's weird reading a voir dire you've done within the past year, while having almost no memory of it.  Some things I read and felt elated in a  "Cool - I did that? That's awesome!"  way.  Other choice bits provoked a response more like, "Oh. I really *am* a fucking idiot, aren't I?"

I have a few more pending from County and Juvie.  I've checked in on their progress and would be tempted to just take one and write it myself, but for how little time I have.

I've gotten on the bicycle again (mostly Sheldon Bike) and promptly almost gave myself heat stroke or something like it.  There was a 30 min feet up eating sugar and drinking water phase in the last ride.  After that though, I finished strong - so go figure.  Overall, I think I lost less than I feared I did. 

My reading life is weak.  I read Hyperion, and liked it quite a bit.  Other than that I've re-read some staples in the past few months.  I need to hit up the library and get some new stuff in my head.

There have been good hang out times also - not so much visitors, but the cast of locals I know.  In some ways I think I have actually become the TLF (who is in NYC now, and doing very well).  I lack a sidekick (role filled by myself previously) for my odd travels though.  And there are plenty of oddities in FL. 

Speaking of the TLF, in assorted Blog Character News, The Mayor has gone private, and is kicking ass.  The CAnarchist continues to be my opposite number on the West Coast - at least as far as our penchant for making obscure constitutional arguments (Appeals - are you listening?!?)  The James Bond Watch visited a few times, and our usual fun drinking/geeky law evenings were had. 

The thing that's taken up the most of my "tapped-out-want-to-be-alone-but-cant-sleep" time is the new motorcycle.  I picked up a $100 craigs list bike for parts.  She's the same year and model as Bess, so I figured I'd have a good source of replacements should I need them.  I ended up deciding that the parts bike could be restored, and resolved to do so in my usual DIY fashion of workarounds and whatnots.  Finding the title (via the owners) was accomplished with the help of a private detective friend.  Everything else was me.  I have only a handful of things left to do, but she'd be road rideable right now if I wanted to take her out.  Plus she does not have a name yet, which is dreadfully unlucky. 

I loved working on her and learned a lot, but I'm glad it's more or less done.  I need to put in a couple of "ride the bicycle to an obscure park with a book and a flask of wine" afternoons to get my balance back.  I'm actually temped to disappear for a bit, as I feel kind of pushy and pushed and unchill in general.  Sigh.  I'm sure it'll all sort itself out.  As it always does.  

But anyway, this is the Final version of the new bike.  Name suggestions welcomed!:

It's good to ride a Vulcan.

Friend sent me this - I seldom if ever repost stuff, but I thought this was funny.

Top Ten Reasons Why Harley Riders Don't Wave Back

10. Afraid it will invalidate warranty.
9. Leather and studs make it too heavy to raise arm.
8. Refuse to wave to anyone whose bike is already paid for.
7. Afraid to let go of handlebars because they might vibrate off.
6. Rushing wind would blow scabs off the new tattoos.
5. Angry because just took out second mortgage to pay luxury tax on new Harley.
4. Just discovered the fine print in owner's manual and realized H-D is partially owned by Honda.
3. Can't tell if other riders are waving or just reaching to cover their ears like everyone else.
2. Remembers the last time a Harley rider waved back, he impaled his hand on spiked helmet.
1. They're too tired from spending hours polishing all that chrome to lift their arms.

Top Ten Reasons Why Gold Wing Riders Riders Don't Wave Back
10. Wasn't sure whether other rider was waving or making an obscene gesture.
9. Afraid might get frostbite if hand is removed from heated grip.
8. Has arthritis and the past 400 miles have made it difficult to raise arm.
7. Reflection from etched windshield momentarily blinded him.
6. The espresso machine just finished.
5. Was actually asleep when other rider waved.
4. Was in a three-way conference call with stockbroker and accessories dealer.
3. Was distracted by odd shaped blip on radar screen.
2. Was simultaneously adjusting the air suspension, seat height, programmable CD player, seat temperature, and satellite navigation system.
1. Couldn't find the "auto wave back" button on dashboard.

Top Ten Reasons Why Sportbikers Riders Riders Don't Wave Back

10. They have not been riding long enough to know they're supposed to.
9. They're going too fast to have time enough to register the movement and respond.
8. You weren't wearing bright enough gear.
7. If they stick their arm out going that fast they'll rip it out of the socket.
6. They're too occupied with trying to get rid of their chicken strips.
5. They look way too cool with both hands on the bars or they don't want to unbalance themselves while standing on the tank.
4. Their skin tight-kevlar-ballistic-nylon-kangaroo-leather suits prevent any position other than fetal.
3. Raising an arm allows bugs into the armholes of their tank tops.
2. It's too hard to do one-handed stoppies.
1. They were too busy slipping their flip-flop back on.

Top Ten Reasons Why BMW Riders Riders Don't Wave Back

10. New Aerostich suit too stiff to raise arm.
9. Removing a hand from the bars is considered "bad form."
8. Your bike isn't weird enough looking to justify acknowledgement.
7. Too sore from an 800-mile day on a stock "comfort" seat.
6. Too busy programming the GPS, monitoring radar, listening to ipod, XM, and talking on the cell phone.
5. He's an Iron Butt rider and you're not!
4. Wires from Gerbings is too short.
3. You're not riding the "right kind" of BMW.
2. You haven't been properly introduced.
1. Afraid it will be misinterpreted as a friendly gesture.

Mmmm. Greasy.

I feel vaguely guilty about the lack of blogging.  But only vaguely.

Felonies continues apace, with my caseload vacillating as cases come in and close out.  One of the odd quirks about my courtroom is that I'm the only "C" felony attorney.  (C felonies correspond to 3rd degree felonies, but I also have a handful of 2nd degree and 1st degree cases - mostly thefts and drug cases.)  Usually, the C cases are spread amongst C attorneys, who use more experienced training attorneys as their co-counsel and trial partners on the case.  Because we're so short handed though, some of the B Felony attorneys, the A Felony attorneys and the major crimes attorneys have taken C cases in my courtroom.  That means I'm pretty much their de facto trial partners.  So instead of having half the C cases in the courtroom assigned to another C, with whom I would not go, those cases should usually involve me as a second chair.  Which, needless to say, from a personal development point of view, is pretty awesome.  In a systemic resources sense, it's rather silly to take someone with 31 years trial experience, someone who has handled murders, and put them on possession of cocaine (personal use) C felonies.  But the office has no choice - and I at least get to pick the brains of some fine attorneys while the system is crumbling.  So that's one bright note. 

A darker note is that a lot of the programs (e.g., Mental Health, Addictions) that used to help divert people in some ways are losing their funding.  So we're in a Bad Economy =s More Crimes + Less Resources spiral. 

In terms of practice, Felonies is like much of what I've done before, but writ larger.  Had I not done any of my prior three stops (Jail Division, regular County Court division, Juvenile division) I don't think I'd be as remotely well prepared for what I'm now experiencing. 

Everyone is looking to April, when we can expect some indication as to whether or not our caseloads are going to drop down to manageable levels. 

Until then we just preserve the record and do the best we can.

***

In non PD news, I had, in the past few weeks, 3 groups of people planning to visit me.  They all canceled for various reasons.  Boo!  I very much enjoy playing tour guide when I have the time to do it right.  But alls well that ends well, as a friend of a friend is going to visit, and I have my vacation days still open from one of the other canceled visits.  I feel like I need to develop new Miami haunts.  The mission is to show the visitor "real Miami" as the friend of a friend is thinking of maybe moving down.  I know what my real Miami is - I wonder if it's anyone elses.

In other news, I got all domesticky this weekend, which is good, because when I'm overwhelmed with cases, cleaning the kitchen sink can be a stretch, let alone the bathroom.  I have not lived this slovenly in years.  Perhaps there's fun blogging to be had with that.  Or perhaps not.  So much of my time is eaten up by the "must do" stuff.  Some of that must do stuff is fun and engaging, like motorcycle and bicycle maintenance.  Some, like cleaning the fridge, is not.  I think I've just let the nots build up recently.

But speaking of motorcycle maintence, I finally, after a two day long epic struggle resolved with a two foot cheater extension for the ratchet, took off the rear wheel of Bess to lube her splines.  While the splines sorely needed it, there was no actual damage to either of the drive shaft couplings, which is great.  If that one piece had failed, it's an $800 rebuild or so.  As usual, it's the power of the internet that saves my ass.  In this case, the friendly guys who frequent the web forum focused on my now-not-longer-produced bike, the Kawasaki Vulcan 750.  Like the Volvo 200 car series, the Vulcan is kinda funky looking but basically bulletproof.  As the man once said, "She might not look like much kid, but she's got it where it counts."  The few troubles are well documented and a litte preventative maintainence goes a long long way.  I have only a few things left to do.  Next project is putting in a some fuses to protect the stator.  I love it when people share knowledge just because they can. 

Bess's naked ass:  (Don't blush!)

Poem

Votive

the hand back-spasms,

from the just-caught wineglass it cracks,

the finger’s skin untouched

for no reason really, just dumb luck,

or the ignorant arrangement of things –

the glass left here, on the edge of a table,

set down to answer the call

of a woman I once loved,

the way one grabs, almost casually,

through the without-thought of the body,

for what cannot be called back.

Another Change

And so I drag myself back to the blog. 

Actually I’ve been pretty busy since I last wrote.  Good, non-work things have happened:

I saw a friend in a Shakespeare In The Park version of Macbeth. 

I took Shining Black Bess down to Everglades City and got some stone crabs.

I’ve been a key element in my softball team losing all of our recent games. 

Old friends The Captain and Gabriel came down to visit, bearing Gabriel’s new CD  (which is quite awesome – a sort of rap/soul/reggae fusion that works.)  We ate Hatian (with the Unpronounceable Name) and Cuban, and hung out with some gators. 

The visit was too short, alas.

I’ve also been generally out – doing not enough bike riding, but: hanging out on Key Biscane for a birthday cookout; finally meeting The Sensibly Hellish Lawyer’s fiancé; meeting friends on Lincoln Road and Tobacco Road .

I haven’t read anything worth reporting on recently – Although I just started Hyperion, which seems promising.

Other than that it’s just been way too much work, not enough bicycling, not enough cooking.  I shouldn’t get a sense of personal accomplishment when I do my laundry on the weekend, but that’s pretty much where a brutal work schedule has left me.  Of course, it makes the few fun hours (see above) that much more precious.

**

I was also “promoted” to the felony division a couple of weeks ago.  Farewell Juvie.

Juvenile was strange for me – not the least of it being the lack of blogging, which provides a kind of recapping of the day I’m otherwise not getting.  Thinking back on my months there, my sense of time seems to float with every day being yet another in a round of depositions, case preparation, courtroom time, and trials.  I tend to forget small things – and hence miss the discipline that writing a blog entry provides.  Not that incidents like the dueling fruit vendor trucks, speeding down the same street every morning really *need* to be memorialized for everyone. . .

Anyway, the juvenile system is supposedly structured around “reform” – meaning that because there are no “penalties” for delinquent (kid crime) behavior, an accused child does not get a jury.  Usually.  There are always exceptions to everything.  Instead, the child goes in front of a judge for trial.  Needless to say, the character, experience, and jurisprudential philosophies of the judge play a large role in both how cases are disposed of (not guilty/guilty) and what reformatory measures are decided upon for each child.  Lest this sound too Dickensian, I should point out that parents, social workers, our office, the State Attorney’s office and the Department of Juvenile Justice are all involved in various stages of the process, and the end result at least has the benefit of having had a lot of persons putting their collective heads together.  However, this collaborative (to use the term very loosely) approach is also quite vulnerable to the pressures of a high volume of children.  Kids can slip through cracks very easily.  Granted, it’s been awhile, but I vividly recall being accused of laziness, recalcitrance, etc., while I was actually struggling with dyslexia.  And it’s not like *I* knew what was going on.  From my perspective, the other kids just got it, and I didn’t – and all the adults seemed to be in agreement that I was some kind of screw up.  So what’s to make of a kid who can’t complete a simple diversionary program because they keep missing classes they have to attend?  Who has the time to parse out what that child’s issues are and perhaps address them early on?

I had some good kids in Juvie.  I had some bad ones.  I had some good parents.  I had some bad ones.  There seems to be no particular pattern to the previous four sentences, in terms of how parent/child dynamics are arranged, beyond to say kids with out of control parents are already pretty handicapped. 

Trial wise, I went about 30? times (if you include dispositive motions and things I “third chaired” on so my interns could get trial credits).  I appeared in front of 6 judges for trial and about 8 overall. 

I was pretty pleased by the results of those trials - I had only two “losses” – meaning that the final outcome at trial was worse than the plea offer my client rejected.   Some cases we flat out won, while other cases we brought because we knew we could beat certain specific charges inside the case.  A handful of those cases are on appeal, so all this analysis is kind of preliminary. 

“Final” numbers say something about practice, but they’re also quite misleading.  They can’t account for cases that were “marginal” wins but, given greater time and resources, should have been “strong” wins.  And of course, I wonder about all the motions I lost, charges I lost, and cases I lost.  If I had an extra hour or two to put on each case, would the outcome have been different?   In some cases, perhaps not, but I’d rather be working in a system where I felt that when a guilty verdict (or a delinquent verdict) comes back, everyone knows that *all* the issues have been fully explored. 

But such is life.

More thoughts on Felony practice, if and when I get them.

More Things (including one of the same) that I like about Miami

Vacation (Why I like Miami)

Which is sort of a working vacation, but at least I should be able to get my life back on track - all those little things which have fallen through the cracks are getting attended to. 

In lieu of serious posting - here are some things to like about Miami.

Why I have not been Blawging

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/11/09/us/09defender.html?_r=1&ei=5070&emc=eta1&oref=slogin

***

Right now I'm in the Juvenile Division, where the stakes are pretty high; high in the sense that trial outcomes will often do much to shape the future of the children I representby placing all kinds of burdens on their lives.  A 12 year old swings his soda bottle at some bigger kid who is bullying them and it's a felony charge forever on their record, forever to be explained. 

Like Arthur and Amy (both of whom I know and respect) I wish I also had more time to better represent my clients thought proper case development and exploring other alternatives to trial. 

The numbers get a bit insane when you run them.  Right now I've got over 100 active trial cases, the majority of which are felony charges.  I've done about 20 (bench) trials and/or dispositive motions since the beginning of October.  And the really frightening thing is that I've won all but three. 

Most days I really don't know how we're actually doing this.  If we don't get some relief soon, a lot of people are going to get mangled.  I'm sure it's happening now.

***

In other wierdness, on election day I had a State witness, the chemist in a drug case, ask me if he could be excused because he'd been sitting in the court house since he'd been called *by the state* and wanted to go out and vote.  So I asked the guy if I were representing him, would he want me to just stipulate to an *element* of the charge, so a witness could leave at the more convienient hour of 3 instead of (what was likely to be) 5pm?  This guy actually got *angry* with me for asking him that. 

The juxtaposiiton of the machinery like conveyence of the accused to their systemic doom, the calousness of the "respectable" persons involved, and the lack of time to really work up these cases as they should be worked makes me break out in hives if I take a step back and analyize the system I'm working within.

**

I have some thoughts on Obama (whom I voted for), but the overriding one is this; It's fundamentally the same country as it was on Tuesday morning, all those lovely Op-Eds aside.

Back to work.  At least I only have a half day's load on Sunday.   

Keeeripes, That Was A Long Week

Earliest night home was at 8pm - and that was because I was burnt out from a 3 trial day.  Some bench trials are short, some are long, and some are very very long.  And one day featured all of those.

Again, confidentiality =s lameness in blogging. 

My floor was magically fixed today while I was at work.  Although El Gato Perfecto's quietness and tendency to hide indicates that it was a long and traumatic experience for her.

I have some interesting evening options on the table, but they not only require me to get up out of my couch, but to make it past the kitchen wherein lurks both wine and waffles.  Plus it's raining outside.  I may just stay in and admire the floor.  After a week of quasi-hysterical parents, that seems about the level of stimulation I can handle right now.

The Daring Rescue of Shining Black Bess

Bess is safely home again due to an epic day.  The day began late last night with another carb drain/ jump attempt.  When that didn’t work, I took the battery to a leaving-the-office=party for a truly impressive public defender.  At the party I was quizzed about the blog – which is, and has been, no longer quite anonymous. (I would appreciate though if everyone just stuck with the moniker for on-line activity.)

This morning I awoke, girded up my loins, and headed into the vast unknown of Hialeah. FL.  Hialeah is not something that is really easily explained.  It’s a city near Miami that uses an entirely different street numbering system, resulting in a lot of confusion.  I was told the people of Miami, upset at these strange doings by their neighbors, attempted to make war upon the people of Hialeah.  After marching pointlessly in circles up and down one way streets, along canals, and past endless mostly empty strip malls, the Armies of Miami found themselves unexpectedly back in Miami.  After two more attempts, the war was abandoned.  However, I believe I encountered some of the legacy of hostility these two peoples nurse toward each other. 

I can’t, unfortunately, go into much detail, lest I compromise the identity of a kindly mechanic who cutting through all kinds of bullshit, fully recharged Bess’s battery, and gave me some advice on electrical system failure on her particular model of Kawasaki. 

Via a truly frightening flea market, I found myself back at The Mayor’s house.  (He and his wife have been storing Bess in one of the parking facilities.)  With the aid of some pliers, a screw-driver, electrical tape, a test light, the recharged battery, neighbor kids, an excitable dog, extra oil, and a triple whiskey, Bess eventually roared somewhat crankily to life.  I think the most amusing point was when the Mayor was balancing Bess as I was trying to fire her up; after she shuddered a few times, I noticed that one of the wires had cracked and she was sparking right onto the chassis instead of firing the plug.  The amusing bit was the Mayor poking at it, trying to see how it was affecting the idle.

 Because playing with electricity while drinking is only slightly less fun than playing with powertools, I decided to do the “hinge fix” on the rear tool compartment.  Basically it’s one of those things that fail on every single Vulcan, due to poor design.  Thankfully it’s about the only thing that needs to be redone on the bike. 

I feel pretty good, fixing a problem without a lot of outlay.  (I’m a decent mechanic, but my biggest weak point is electrical systems.)  On the other hand, I also feel kind of annoyed – I’d much rather have not had the problem at all, which’d have given me marginally more free time to attend to things which have been waiting for far too long.  A few of those things involve slight modifications to Bess and some preventive maintenance (believe it or not the ignition wiring was something I was going to replace anyway.)  Blergh. 

But the evening ended on an even better note: had dinner (featuring a lot of crabs and artichokes) and conversation (law, dreaming, motorcycles, castrating bulls, parenting, and, as always, our responsibilites to our fellow men) with the Mayor and his family.

**

Random Bits:

In other news, The James Bond Watch came down for a visit.  That really deserved it's own blog post, as all his visits do.  Suffice to say, much fun was had, much Turkish food was eaten, and TJBW zipped out of town as he always does.  

I've re-read a few Bujold novels at night, just prior to my crashing out time.  She's fast on her way to becoming my favorite contemporary fantasist, although the "high art" part of me feels guilty I don't really emotionally resonate with many of Guy Gavril Kay's works.

What else. . .   I went to a Welcome to America party for two Cubans who recently came over.  I ate about four pounds of Flan.  But that was OK because I also had about four pounds of pork and yucca. My Listening Spanish is getting better.  My Speaking Spanish still sucks eggs. 

I also went on two long errand bike rides, with a third set for tomorrow.   I need to get back on the bike more consistently, but the problem, as always, is simply time.  It’s hard to put aside a half day to do a ride while I’m still in the learning curve at work.  More thoughts on that will have to wait till another day.

Sorry the reportage is so lame - I talk a lot of law now-a-days, and there's usually nothing I can talk about (due to a few overlapping reasons). 

Day of Unexpected Victories, Month of Unexpected Surprises.

The Red Sox have brought the ALCS to 2-3, with their second victory over the Tampa Bay Rays.

I won on a series of 4 cases, through different means, including my first felony (Battery on a Law Enforcement Officer.) 

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Life in Juvie is exhausting but good.  I'm still in the learning curve/organizing my files curve/finding out where the hell things are curve.  Basically that means I'm pulling 10-14 hour days, but not for much longer I think.

Bess is stranded up at my friend The Mayor's house (we drained the carbs, charged the battery, and she just won't start.  So I'm driving my beat up car into work (not really wanting to bicycle home at 10pm). I haven't driven to work since the summer of 06.  And prior to that, it was the summer of 04.  This is kind of a pattern. 

After two trials during my first week (victories - yea!), I haven't gone on anything due to my judge being ill.  Actually, he wasn't ill, per se, but caught up in a front page scandal.  So I guess I'm getting a new judge.  And oddly, my actual *assigned* judge is the only one I haven't gone to trial in front of.  Well, we have a critical mass of cases in front of the new judge - whoever that will be.

On the domestic front, my apartment's floor is buckling all over the place - contractors have visited a few times.  I think it will all just have to be replaced.

It's been a very strange couple of weeks.  El Gato Perfecto and Flan have been my constants.