Well, sort of.

First I’m going to say something here to those involved in the debate who may read my post: Friends are hard to come by; I have friends on “both sides” and my intent is to keep it that way. On the other hand, good friends are even harder to come by and this post may result in my finding out whether my current circle is bound to yield more, less, or any.

I count the following among my friends:  Scott Greenfield, Norm Pattis, Brian Tannebaum, and “Gideon.” I have high hopes for a number of others I’ve recently met on the Internet, including (but not limited to!) Mirriam Seddiq, Mark Bennett, and several others who recently joined with Norm, Mirriam and me to try out a new project called BCOTUS.

One thing I’ve learned in my 51 years of life — soon to be 52, assuming I can hang in there another month or so — is that I need more than a couple of friends.  I actually need more than a couple.  Sure, I enjoy having lots of friends, too.

I’d enjoy even just one friend.  For what can bring greater happiness to a life than knowing there is someone who will share a thoughtful conversation and, at the end of it, even if the conversation was “unhappy,” will still be glad to call you “friend” when the dust settles.

Yet I need more than one friend because — well, because I appreciate more than just the enjoyment that comes from having someone to value who also values me.  I appreciate that people are different and that the experiences I have and the things that I learn — particularly the ways in which I can become a better and more interesting person — are enhanced by these differences.  One person reminds me that I need to push myself harder and to remember not to just go with the flow; another reminds me that I should occasionally stop and marvel at the flow and how it structures the more mundane tasks of life, so that I can focus on other things.  One friend’s focus causes her to pull my attention to this thing I would not have noticed on my own; another’s focus brings to my attention that thing I and my other friend missed.

No matter what you hear, there’s no such thing as a “self-made man.”  Or woman.  We are all influenced by our interactions with others.  The more frequent and deeper the relationship, the more we are influenced.

And so I am ever on the quest for friends both for the enjoyment it brings to life and for the opportunities it gives me to grow and learn.  I am forever floating trial friendship balloons.

The Internet and my sometimes infrequent but irrefragable drive to write have allowed me to float a number of trial friendship balloons that would not have been possible otherwise.  I discovered the blogosphere, or, as some lawyers prefer, the blawgosphere.  I have read the blogs and blawgs of and started getting to know a number of really cool people on the Interwebs. Thank goodness for tubes!

But while the Interwebs have made possible contacts that were unthinkable just about 15 years ago, they can also be difficult places to find solid friendships.  IRL — “in real life” — people rub up against one another and, when they find themselves disagreeing with one another too much, when they find they too-frequently rub one another the wrong way, they avoid one another.  Balloons, of necessity, have thin skins.  They pop; the friendship ends.  You go your separate ways.  And if some of your friends hang out with your former friend, well, it’s not usually a problem because knowing your feelings, they’ll be unlikely to discuss it around you and you may not even know they still associate.

But Interwebs are stickier.

And I’m deliberately mixing metaphors because it’s my blog and I can do that if I want.

Some people whom I like and respect quite a bit have gotten into a tiff. I guess I can call it that. (For you youngsters, we aren’t talking about image file types here.  And I’m not Canadian, so I didn’t even think about Toronto!)

One group I deeply appreciate has a pet peeve about the Interwebs and lawyers who use them in certain ways.  In particular, they appear to dislike the use of the Interwebs for marketing purposes.  They think that people who use the Interwebs for marketing purposes are hiding a deeper inability, lack of skill, or other weakness which makes them not the best material for becoming good lawyers.  Or perhaps they think that if one focuses on becoming a good lawyer instead of marketing oneself, the clients will follow.  Maybe all the above.

They might be right.  I don’t know.

There is a growing group that thinks the single-mindedness of the first group is — shall we say? — misguided.

The Interwebs being what they are, there have been a few barbs traded here and there over the issue.  (Issues?)  Some balloons appear to have been popped, or are at least in danger of being popped.

Myself, I don’t want to see this.  I value all my friends and potential friends.  The danger from watching the balloons pop and fall from the sky is that it makes me want to come to the rescue.  But people don’t always want you to try to salvage their friendships from the wreckage of a popped balloon.

I can respect that.  Some friendships are just not meant to last.  No matter how sad it makes me to see these things happen, each person has to decide which, how many, what kind of — pick your flavor — balloons they wish to keep aloft.

Another danger comes when Person A sees that my own friendship balloons are still aloft, and one of the passengers is Person B who has fallen from Person A’s balloon.  Sometimes this can make them question where my “loyalties” lie.

Let me interrupt my thinking for just a moment here.  (Thinking, by the way, is exactly what’s happening here.  Like Scott Greenfield, I’m a true believer in the Shakespearean theory of writing.)  Lest anyone become confused, no one has yet questioned my loyalties.  No schoolyard games of “if you like him, you can’t like me” have broken out.  Yet.  I’m simply talking about the dangers that can happen as balloons begin falling from the sky.

And I’m writing this post specifically because, if I can’t stop others from sacrificing their own balloons, I want to keep all of mine intact.  If no one takes anything else away from this post, I am hoping they will at least take away that fact.  Because I’m not a piece of property — nor is my friendship — to be “owned.”  Nor do I have limitations such that I can’t be friendly with multiple people, some of whom may not completely enjoy one another’s company.

Grow up in a family like mine and you get used to differences of opinion, taste, attitude, idiosyncrasy, or what-have-you.

If it happens, in the course of our friendship, that I say I disagree with your point of view, or that I agree with another’s point of view, or — god forbid! — I don’t agree with either of you, this does not mean I’m hoping to pop our balloon.  Being your friend does not mean that I will always agree with you, any more than you will always agree with me.  Being your friend means that I will always value you.  Or maybe I should say, I will always value you.  For there is enough about you aside from whatever views I may find disagreeable that I nevertheless am glad I know you.

So, please.  If you must pop one another’s balloons, let’s keep ours intact.

I always feel inadequate in terms of knowing what to say in these kinds of situations.

Some time back, I read a novel (The Unbearable Lightness of Being), a central thesis of which is that because each of us is the embodiment of but one life out of so many billions, what happens in our lives is inconsequential, insignificant, and thus the decisions we make are unimportant.

I would say that because each of us has but one life, that makes what happens and our reactions to what happens all the more important.

The Unbearable Lightness of Being: A Novel

When I’ve gone through some bad times in my life — breaking up an eight-year relationship that had been hell, but which I really didn’t want to let go of; getting an 8 a.m. call on December 31, 2003, to tell me I had stage II malignant melanoma (and, oh, by the way, Happy New Year!); learning a beloved uncle walked into his boss’s office and shot two people before killing himself in Florida — people have sometimes said things like, “I know how you feel,” or, “I understand,” or my favorites, variations on “You’ll get over it.”  (“You’ll get through it,” “this too shall pass,” and so on.)

And my reaction to that was anywhere from feeling that they did NOT understand, or they wouldn’t say such things, to being pissed off at them for being trite. Occasionally, I could get that they were trying to empathize, but, even then I thought a different way of showing that might be better.

Nobody can ever know exactly what another person is feeling.  Nobody can really understand how another person copes (or doesn’t cope) with the vagaries of life.  Sure, everyone experiences them — the feelings, the vagaries of life — and the things that happen to us may be similar, but we really don’t all experience them the same.

And even if we did, even when it’s true that “this too shall pass,” somehow saying such things not infrequently feels belittling to the person currently in the agonal throes of existential ache and angst.

And I don’t want to belittle those in pain.  I want to help.  I don’t know how. Sometimes you just have to let people feel what they will feel; to have and to hold, for as long as the feelings live, the unique pain that is part of their one life.

What I can do is say, “I’m here.  I’m going to be here.”  I feel with my friends.  I don’t know that what I feel is similar, because I know that I don’t understand just how they feel.

I only know that I care about them.

So with that — and since I’ve been tagged by blogger extraordinaire and friend Joni Mueller of Joniverse — I proceed to give you this Holiday Season, the 48 Things YOU Could Care Less About….

1. FIRST NAME? Rick

2. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE? Yes. Richard Burge of (last I knew) Elgin, Illinois, who was my father’s best friend. I vaguely recall knowing him as “Uncle Richard.”

3. WHEN DID YOU LAST CRY? Hmmm…that’s a tough one. I believe it was somewhat recently, over an incredibly stressful incident I prefer to forget.

4. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING? Not as much as I used to. I used to be told that I have “very beautiful” handwriting, but over the years it has deteriorated as I spend more time with computers, typing.

5. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCHMEAT? Like my friend, Joni, I love liverwurst. However, if I eat it too much/too often, I start to like it less. This isn’t true of everything I like — I could eat pizza and cheeseburgers every day of my life and still love them. A lunch meat that I probably could eat every day without getting tired of it, though, is cotto salami; you know, the kind with the little cut pieces of pepper in it.

6. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU? I believe that if I were not friends with me, I would be missing something. I’m hard to get to know, though, and most people won’t make the effort. If I were not me, I don’t know if I would make that effort, or not.

7. DO YOU HAVE A JOURNAL? The blog counts, but I also have a much more personal journal that I usually handwrite. (I sometimes use TheJournal, version 4, by DavidRM Software.)

8. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS? Yes. I didn’t have to give them up for ice cream. My brother, without my charm, was not so lucky.

9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP? I think so. Sometimes I really want to, but I’ve never gone out of my way to try to find a place to do it. On the other hand, I’d really like to try skydiving.

10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL? I don’t really eat cereal. I will occasionally eat oatmeal and prefer maple & brown sugar from Quaker Oats. As a kid, I loved sugary cereals like Cocoa Puffs, Cap’n Crunch (mostly the plan, but sometimes the one with the berries — I think they were called “gooseberries”) and I also liked Lucky Charms, but mostly for the charms.

11. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF? Yes, almost always.

12. DO YOU THINK YOU ARE STRONG? Not more than average, in terms of physical strength. In terms of emotional fortitude, I think I’m stronger than normal.

13. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM FLAVOR? Hmmm…that’s a tough one. I love ice cream. And find that different occasions call for different types. For example, French vanilla to work (and it has to be real French vanilla, not “sorta kinda French vanilla”) goes well with one shot of Kahlua and one shot of vodka in a blender to make a milkshake called a “Polar Bear.” But normally I prefer chocolate ice cream with chocolate chunks in it. Rocky Road was a favorite for a long time. Heck, if you’re going to eat chocolate, you might as well blow out your calorimeter.

14. SHOE SIZE? 10.5 usually. I think my feet might be growing and sometimes I need an 11. Either that, or shoe sizes are shrinking.

15. RED OR PINK? Yes.

16. WHAT IS THE LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF? My Procrastination Superpower.

17. WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST? Hmmm…my first wife, Yvonne Adams. But only because I want to apologize for being such an immature shithead when we were married and I hope that everything has turned out well for her in life in spite of having met and married me before I grew up.

18. DO YOU WANT EVERYONE TO SEND THIS BACK TO YOU? I agree with Joni: public humiliation is always best. Blog! Blog! Blog! <background grunts and hoots>

19. WHAT COLOR PANTS, SHIRT AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING? Uh…I just got up awhile ago. I’m only wearing a bathrobe. No peaking, Joya!

20. LAST THING YOU ATE? That was last night. I think it was mashed potatoes. (I mean, i actually had a very nice dinner, but I think the actual last thing I ate was the mashed potatoes. I love mashed potatoes and went back for more.)

21. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW? My wife getting ready in the next room, because I know that means any minute now she’ll be prodding me to hurry.

22. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE? Wow. Interesting question. A nice grey or some interesting shade of brown, like that of fine bronze Mexican skin.

23. FAVORITE SMELL? Clean hair. And although I rarely drink it these days (stomach), I agree with Joni that coffee is a great smell. For some reason, I also like the faint smell of bus exhaust. I have no idea why.

24. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE? Steve Matthews, web and SEO consultant for lawyers. As someone else noted, “Steve just gets it.”

25. THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE YOU ARE ATTRACTED TO? The first thing? Dude, I’m a dude. But, seriously, there’s no one thing. Sometimes it’s hair. Sometimes it’s another physical attribute. Over time, I enjoy someone witty, intellectual, and willing to be a little different.

26. DO YOU LIKE THE PERSON YOU STOLE THIS from? Yep. Absolutely. In a short time, she’s become a great friend. And we haven’t even met yet!

27. FAVORITE DRINK? Whoa! I just recently tried Joni’s choice of Cherry Diet Pepsi and it was pretty darned good. (Carole, who works with me in my office, accidentally bought it instead of regular Diet Pepsi, which I usually drink.) My favorite drink-drink is a Black Russian. I’ve always been attracted to the darker colors.

28. FAVORITE SPORT? Sportficken. I was introduced to the sport by my first wife; introduced to the term by a friend from Germany.

29. EYE COLOR? Blue. Some have described the color as “piercing blue.”

30. HAT SIZE? Don’t know. I virtually never wear a hat except as a joke.

31. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS? I have to go with the same answer as Joni for now. However, I have worn contacts off and on for many years. I’d love to get my eyes fixed with that laser surgery, but a) I don’t trust it yet and b) I might be too old.

32. FAVORITE FOOD? Pizza, cheeseburgers, Nacho Cheese Doritos.

33. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS? Neither. I like science-fiction/time-travel movies and want the ending to be interesting, whatever that may mean.

34. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE THING TO DO TO WASTE TIME? Twitter. Surfing to the end of the Internet. Blog about 48 things you could care less about.

35. SUMMER OR WINTER? Spring. Hey, I’m not going to be limited by you!

36. HUGS OR KISSES? Kisses. All kinds.

37. FAVORITE DESSERT? Chocolate cream pies or chocolate torts.

38. WHO IS MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND? Ain’t emailing and ain’t tagging, since the people I know with “personal” blogs who might put this up already tagged me. Oh, I mean “person.”

39. LEAST LIKELY TO RESPOND? Pretty much the entire universe — although it was the Joniverse that sent this to me.

40. WHAT BOOKS ARE YOU READING? Several. I’m reading about Immigration law for criminal defense attorneys; I’m reading a science-fiction book called The Reality Dysfunction, which I just started and consumes 2,330 pages in my Sony Reader (glad I don’t have to carry the real book around!); I’m reading a book on writing beginnings for stories and novels that will hook people (the book is called “Hooked”); and some books on writing.

41. WHAT’S ON YOUR MOUSE PAD? What mouse pad? I use a Wacom tablet. There’s nothing on it while I type, but when there’s something on it, it’s the tip of a Wacom pen.

42. WHAT DID YOU WATCH LAST NIGHT ON TV? Something Tivo’d. Something forgettable. I forgot.

43. FAVORITE SOUNDS? Soft moans.

44. ROLLING STONE OR BEATLES? Was never much of a fan of either.

45. THE FURTHEST YOU’VE BEEN FROM HOME? Olongapo, Subic Bay, the Philippines.

46. WHAT’S YOUR SPECIAL TALENT? Look, this is a G-rated blog, pal. Seriously, though? I’m fairly good at learning (and then forgetting) languages. I’m apparently very good at thinking on my feet (which is good, because I spend a lot of time on my feet).

47. WHERE WERE YOU BORN? Wilmington, Delaware.

48. WHO SENT THIS TO YOU? It came from the primordial Joniverse.

Closer to home, we proved that notwithstanding Obama’s victory, another kind of bigotry is alive and well.

So I thought for today, I’d try to not write too seriously about politics.  Or anything for that matter.  Instead, I give you some insight into me and what I like by posting my answers to one of those — as I call them — Friends & Family Trivial Pursuit emails.

Don’t gorge.  Take it slow and easy.

Welcome to the new 2008 edition of getting to know your family and friends. Here is what you are supposed to do, and try not to be lame and spoil the fun. Change all the answers so that they apply to you. Then send this to a bunch of people you know, INCLUDING the person who sent it to you.

Some of you may get this several times; that means you have lots of friends. The easiest way to do it is to hit ‘reply’ so you can change the answers or copy and paste. Have fun and be truthful!

1. What is your occupation right now?
Struggling Criminal Defense Attorney. (See www.rhdefense.com or www.probablecause.us.)

2. What color are your socks right now?
Either dark blue or black. I can’t tell. I’m a struggling criminal defense attorney. I could probably argue it either way.

3. What are you listening to right now?
The loud hum of some kind of equipment outside my window.

4. What was the last thing that you ate?
Pizza, last night, while celebrating. I washed it down with Mumm’s blanc de noir. Not my mum’s, but someone’s, I’m sure.

5. Can you drive a stick shift?
You betcha. (Oh, can I say that now that the election is over?)

6. Last person you spoke to on the phone?
Mike, a client, so I won’t give a last name.

7. Do you like the person who sent this to you?
You betcha. (So sue me.)

8. How old are you today?
50, and I’ve been that way for some months now. It’s depressing at times, but I’m learning to live with it.

9. What is your favorite sport to watch on TV?
I almost never watch sports on TV. If I do, I usually watch just a few minutes of either golf or football. But I always get confused, because I can’t figure out which racket you’re supposed to use to putt a field goal.

10. What is your favorite drink?
Diet Pepsi. A bottle of wine or two will do in a pinch, though.

11. Have you ever dyed your hair?
Long, long time ago, I tried a few times. Then someone said it would inspire more confidence in potential clients if I stopped and since I didn’t care much for it anyway, I stopped. Can’t tell, though, if it had any impact on potential clients. Since my hair is fairly long, it has saved me some time and money.

12. Favorite food?
Cheeseburger and fries, probably. Steak will do in a pinch. Especially if it’s a filet, or at least a New York steak. And none of that chicken-fried steak, either. If I’m having steak, I want it cooked by a human.

13. What is the last movie you watched?
Hmmm…I can’t remember. It’s been awhile. And most of the movies I watch are for escapism, so they’re forgettable. It was probably something about someone trying to blow up something, or stop something from being blown up. I guess I blew this question.

14. Favorite day of the year?
I don’t really have a favorite. I used to love Halloween because we’d make really cool costumes and go to parties. My personal blog contains some articles about Halloween costumes I’ve made. (www.unspun.us)

15. How do you vent anger?
I don’t. Probably a bad thing. I’m told you can sometimes tell that I’m angry because I become more methodical and usually speak more calmly. At least, that’s how it works in a courtroom.

16. What was your favorite toy as a child?
The neighbor girl. Oh, wait. That was in high school. And, dad, I’m kidding. (I included my dad in the list of people I sent this to.) Did I HAVE a childhood, or a favorite toy? Hmmm…guess I’d have to say my dictionary. It might have been my button from the “We Never Guess, We Look It Up Club.” (Yes, I really did belong and I really did have such a button.)

17. What is your favorite season?
Summer. I hate being cold.

18. Cherries or Blueberries?
Sometimes. Usually I prefer cheeseburgers and fries (see above). Cherry Garcia, though, is a good substitute.

19. Do you want your friends to e-mail you back?
Of course! What’re friends for? Besides, it’s the only time I have any contact with most of ‘em!

20. Who is the most likely to respond?
Hmmm…maybe I better remember to cc myself. No, better not: I’ll end up stuck in a loop.

...sue me. I dare you.

My friend, Bob Marcotte of Marcotte Photography, took about a hundred-and-fifty pictures of me yesterday. He sent this one over via email last night, saying, “This is my lawyer…” in the subject heading. The body, other than the photo, just said “…sue me. I dare you.”

Yes, it’s true. I’m a criminal defense attorney. Find out more at either RHDefense or GangDefense.

I’ll try to post something more substantial and prettier than this soon.  Meanwhile, enjoy the free photo!

Why does the time fly?  I still remember (and remember like it was yesterday!), after an argument with my mother, yelling, “I can’t wait until next year!” And I remember being unable to wait; the days then dragged.  I swear that when I was 17, a year lasted at least twice as long as it does now.  Inflation?  Each breath costing even more seconds than the one which came before?

I have a theory about this:  When we learn a new skill, we step through it at first slowly, haltingly.  Whether it’s a new motor skill, like swinging a golf club to hit the ball just so — or to hit it at all! ( how does Tiger Woods do that?!) — or learning how to add, subtract, multiply, or divide, we struggle in the beginning.  With practice comes familiarity and we not only need to think less of how to do the thing, we begin to do it without thinking.  Without noticing.

I think time is like that.  Each second that passes, each minute, each hour, each day and before we know it, each year etches experience with time onto our brains.  As new ones are added to the total of those we’ve lived, subtracted from those we have left, the cares of adulthood multiply, dividing our attention.  This causes us to think less of how we do a thing; we begin to do most without thinking.  It’s a new kind of familiarity we’re developing, but a familiarity that tends to breed wistfulness, not contempt.

Why does the time fly? I cannot ponder this one any longer.  I wash the shampoo from my hair.  Time to take a swing at another day.

Last year, I got on a health kick. I stopped drinking carbonated beverages.

I never knew I had this much power, though!

Yesterday, there was a flood here. Apparently, a reservoir on the roof, which holds water for the air-conditioning unit for the Rowell Building, sprang (has sprung? sproing? sprïngenfülten?) a major leak. There is standing water – or was when I looked yesterday afternoon – on parts of the sixth floor.

We’re on the fifth floor, of course. Attorney Chris Bijev is right underneath some of the larger puddles. Part of the ceiling right outside his office came down yesterday. Water was streaking down both sides of the wall between his office and the hallway. Ruined some pictures on his wall, flooded his reception area (and the hallway outside). Chris is two doors down from me. Oh, well, at least this solves one problem: his birthday is coming up soon and now we know what to get him. The entire floor is chipping in to buy him a canoe.

Meanwhile, Attorney David Mugridge, two doors away on the other side of me — I’m a descendant of Moses, so naturally the water is on each side of me — has a flood in his office because the air-conditioning unit leaked. (They’re sort of wall units, right up against the wall – it’s probably left over from some of the first units ever invented. The building itself was built and – near as I can tell – last received maintenance, around the turn of the 17th, 18th, or 19th century. (Okay, so it was the early 1900s; who’s counting?))

Chris is getting moved to “nicer” offices on the fourth floor. If you ask me, though, this entire building is starting to look like it should be condemned. I kid you not: I’ve seen better-looking offices in the news footage coming out of Beirut and the Gaza Strip. And the bathrooms, which have had leaks like this for a long time, really do look worse than something you’d expect to see in a ghetto. Notwithstanding the great location (right across the street from the courthouse), I think I’m going to have to re-locate after I get sworn in as an attorney.

When I went up to look at the sixth floor (which is vacant – the last tenants moved out earlier this year, saying they couldn’t take it anymore), it looks like the jungle is taking over. You know those old Mayan and Aztec ruins you see? I’m thinking of moving to one; they’re nicer. And less scary.

Back to the sixth floor of this building, there are pieces of the ceiling that are looking like they’ve fallen. There are growths – growths – on the walls! It looks like someone poured jello or something down each wall in the place, stuck multi-colored furry creatures to the goo and then smashed them. Or maybe that’s mold growing on the walls. The carpets are covered in mold, too.

After seeing it, I was amazed. I really think if a city inspector came through here, the place would be condemned.

And now, today, the stink. I can hardly think it smells so bad; and I’m getting a headache. I’m hoping I’m not being poisoned, less than a week before the bar exam. I called the landlord and was told that after they extracted the water from the carpet (which, to me, still looks wet – but that could be “new” water, I guess, after the original extraction), they sprayed some kind of anti-mold stuff on the carpets. Maybe that’s the smell. I don’t know. Smells kinda like a cross between paint and vinegar. And someone is supposed to come today to do some more work of some kind that’s supposed to make it all better. (I hope it’s Jesus, or some other miracle-worker, that they’re going to send.)

I think there’s some kind of conspiracy to make sure I never forget the days of prepping for the bar exam. I just hope I make it. I never want to live through this again. I’d rather become a bus driver, or one of those people who runs around downtown asking if folks want their car windows washed for a buck. I think I’ll go buy a squeegee at lunch. Heck, at the rate the water is moving around here, I’ll need it to clear off my desk.

Please forgive the whining…everyone needs to have a little breakdown every once in awhile, I guess. Feel free to write and tell me about your missing feet, so I won’t feel so bad about not having shoes.

But…this really, really, really sucks.

And, of course, not one of us here practices landlord-tenant law!

This week, for some reason, all I’ve wanted to do is sleep. I’m simply exhausted. Somehow, though, I’m going to have to muster a bit more strength. I’ve got this little pop quiz coming up in July: the California State Bar Examination.

Meanwhile, I’m hoping to try to get past the sadness I feel over the direction our once-great nation has gone since George Bush and his buddies decided America was theirs and theirs alone. I’m hoping that eventually I can start writing again and forget the fact that Americans don’t seem to care about what has happened to us.

Or maybe I’ll just have to give up on the idea that anyone out there will finally decide to do something about it — call your congressional representatives, write them, or otherwise let them know that they’re going to lose your vote unless things change — and I’ll just do what so many other blogs do and babble on about crap that doesn’t matter.

Oh…wait…apparently I’ve been doing that already.

Guess I’ll just go back to sleep…

Perhaps it’s because for the last two months, we’ve been trying to do something about some tree rodents that got into our attic from a tree that had apparently grown up over the roof of our house. When my wife called the pest control people to ask them to send someone out to get rid of our mice, the guy asked what made us think we had mice. After she told him we could hear them running around at night, he said, “Have you ever heard the expression, ‘quiet as a mouse’?”

Apparently, since we can hear them, we don’t have mice — more likely they are tree rats.

Which is a real bummer, because I was just going to wait until their batteries were low and then try to grab them as they ran by in slow motion….

Stay tuned for some more serious discussion on “gang problems” — not related to either mice or rats — coming up soon.