Today I had court on an warrant. I refuse to wear a jacket to court. My theory is that the judge sees me, realizes I am not with a firm, normally asks me a few questions to which I play up the business trying to make ends meet by doing legal work in house, and then he/she goes easy on me because I appear to be "one of the good guys" who apparently cannot afford a suit. Little bit radical...but it works for me.
Anyway, I was late for my hearing and was busting through the attorney security line at the courthouse. I was gathering my things when, out of the blue, one of the security guards yells out "Hey, you....are you an attorney?" It was one of those surreal moments when everyone stops (attorneys in front, attorneys behind, public line, people in the hallway...). It takes me a moment to realize he is talking to me. My first thought was, do they have a problem with people impersonating attorneys?
Not knowing how exactly to respond I simply went with the smart ass approach and said "yep....I am....just apparently not a very convincing one".
He just stared at me for like five seconds. I thought to myself...ok, no sense of humor here...I am going to get tasered!" Then he just busted into uncontrollable laughter. The laughing was contagious. The screeners started laughing, attorneys started laughing, Hispanics in the public line who I am sure did not speak a word of english started laughing. The security guard came over and shook my hand telling me it was nice to finally meet an attorney with a sense of humor. At that point a few of the attorneys stopped laughing, but everyone else was still carrying on.
Still not sure if they were laughing at me or with me....but it did create quite a scene. Only in Vegas.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Fault.
I did have a cool moment in court yesterday. I had quashed a warrant on one of our drivers. The warrant was totally my fault. I let my secretary go and the citation literally slipped through the cracks. I have a good relationship with the DA and at arraignment I chatted with him and he agreed to approach the bench when it was my clients turn and discuss with the judge. The Judge of course was ticked that my client had let it go to warrant, so I decided the try the totally honest approach (stretch for me) and straight up told the judge it was my fault, that we had turnover in our office, and that my office was responsible for the warrant, not the driver. The Judge was shocked. He turned off his mic, leaned over, and whispered "what did you say?" I was like oh, crap, here comes a malpractice lecture (which I am sure you will be surprised to hear I do get from time to time). He then looked puzzled and said, you mean to tell me this is your fault...you personally? I didn't know what to say, so I just looked at him and said yep, I am an idiot....do we need to put that on the record? He then smiled and dismissed the entire issue. It was my little victory for the day.
Celebrity
My new best friend (65 year old, Ms. K) invited Kate and I to accompany her and her new boyfriend to the Andre Agassi Grand Slam for Kids event in town last weekend. Don't know if you are familiar, but Andre is from Vegas and formed this grade/junior/high school in the worst part of town. They have a lottery for kids from the inner city and currently have 650 students k-12. It is a gorgeous facility and has really changed the area. There are other businesses that have moved in and it is actually looking pretty good. Anyway, he has this event and invites all the celebs and rich people and then gets them to donate money. Basically, each kid costs 11k a year to educate and the state gives 6k and so he raises the rest.
Ms. K. owns the CAT dealership here and is totally loaded (it was her jet we used for the fishing trip a few weeks back). She loves kids and loves Kate and I for some odd reason. I am not complaining, but she is always inviting us to these events we clearly have no business being at.
Anyway, this one was no different. It was a tuxedo only affair with the whose who of Vegas. We had a table dead center. Prior to starting Kate and I were wondering around the ballroom and ran into Andre's table. I am a big fan (well as much as you can be of a tennis player) and so I had to get my picture with him.
After the picture we had an awkward conversation about nothing that we have in common and then I said hi to his very tall wife and excused ourselves to find our table. I tried to be all smooth and said see you later and turned and ran right into Kate. Of course our table was right next to theirs, so I looked like a total retard as we sat down fifteen feet from them.
As we were setting there Kate started pointing out the celebrities around us. Kate was like there is Jason Miraz, and was like that little twerp? Rob Thomas and his wife were across from us at the next table. I told Kate Rob's wife didn't look depressed and she did not follow so I started explaining the whole diamonds on the ground song and she actually looked over our way. Apparently my voice is rather loud? Kate was not impressed or amused. Dukes Coach (Mike ...wont even try that spelling) was close by, along with carrot top (who lets him into events anyway). The bid items were ridiculous. I really wanted to bid on a four pack of tickets combo for the superbowl, world series, NBA finals, NHL finals, final four. However, It went for about 75k more than I had to spend. Ms. K. bought a dinner for six in San Francisco with Robin Williams for 110k. I almost choked! Who the hell pays 110k for dinner. She explained to me it was for the kids... I reminded her I have kids!
It was fun to meet and hear the celebs. Bill Cosby opened, followed by Jason Mraz, Rob Thomas, Jennifer Hudson, and Elton John. The highlight though was watching Kate perform when she saw someone she "knew"
I was sitting there minding my own business when Kate jumps up and screams "oh my heck, Tenlee!" I look up and see this couple headed to our table and I assume it is one of Kate's friends. They stop at the table and start chatting and I am not really paying attention until I hear Kate say, I am a stay at home mom with no life and I want you to know I followed both of you and as silly as it sounds, I cheered for you and cried with you and I am so happy you are together. I am like, hold the damn phone.....what? So I nose in and and say, hi, I am Sean and the dude says I am kipton and this is my fiancee Tenlee and I am like and how do you know Kate? He then informs me they don't until now. Apparently, these two were on separate shows of Bachelor and Bachelorette and both lost and then hooked up later. I have never seen Kate so excited to meet anyone. I honestly believe she is having an emotional affair with these people and I am totally cool with it. Here is there pic if you know them.
Anyway, it was a fun night. They raised 8.5 million which will keep the little delinquents going for another few years. We felt lucky to be there and I am sure we provided lots of entertainment for those around us!
Thought you would appreciate a laugh at our expense!
Ms. K. owns the CAT dealership here and is totally loaded (it was her jet we used for the fishing trip a few weeks back). She loves kids and loves Kate and I for some odd reason. I am not complaining, but she is always inviting us to these events we clearly have no business being at.
Anyway, this one was no different. It was a tuxedo only affair with the whose who of Vegas. We had a table dead center. Prior to starting Kate and I were wondering around the ballroom and ran into Andre's table. I am a big fan (well as much as you can be of a tennis player) and so I had to get my picture with him.
After the picture we had an awkward conversation about nothing that we have in common and then I said hi to his very tall wife and excused ourselves to find our table. I tried to be all smooth and said see you later and turned and ran right into Kate. Of course our table was right next to theirs, so I looked like a total retard as we sat down fifteen feet from them.
As we were setting there Kate started pointing out the celebrities around us. Kate was like there is Jason Miraz, and was like that little twerp? Rob Thomas and his wife were across from us at the next table. I told Kate Rob's wife didn't look depressed and she did not follow so I started explaining the whole diamonds on the ground song and she actually looked over our way. Apparently my voice is rather loud? Kate was not impressed or amused. Dukes Coach (Mike ...wont even try that spelling) was close by, along with carrot top (who lets him into events anyway). The bid items were ridiculous. I really wanted to bid on a four pack of tickets combo for the superbowl, world series, NBA finals, NHL finals, final four. However, It went for about 75k more than I had to spend. Ms. K. bought a dinner for six in San Francisco with Robin Williams for 110k. I almost choked! Who the hell pays 110k for dinner. She explained to me it was for the kids... I reminded her I have kids!
It was fun to meet and hear the celebs. Bill Cosby opened, followed by Jason Mraz, Rob Thomas, Jennifer Hudson, and Elton John. The highlight though was watching Kate perform when she saw someone she "knew"
I was sitting there minding my own business when Kate jumps up and screams "oh my heck, Tenlee!" I look up and see this couple headed to our table and I assume it is one of Kate's friends. They stop at the table and start chatting and I am not really paying attention until I hear Kate say, I am a stay at home mom with no life and I want you to know I followed both of you and as silly as it sounds, I cheered for you and cried with you and I am so happy you are together. I am like, hold the damn phone.....what? So I nose in and and say, hi, I am Sean and the dude says I am kipton and this is my fiancee Tenlee and I am like and how do you know Kate? He then informs me they don't until now. Apparently, these two were on separate shows of Bachelor and Bachelorette and both lost and then hooked up later. I have never seen Kate so excited to meet anyone. I honestly believe she is having an emotional affair with these people and I am totally cool with it. Here is there pic if you know them.
Anyway, it was a fun night. They raised 8.5 million which will keep the little delinquents going for another few years. We felt lucky to be there and I am sure we provided lots of entertainment for those around us!
Thought you would appreciate a laugh at our expense!
Maybe This is What Sent the Jet Blue Flight Attendant Over the Edge....
I travel a fair bit and it seems that planes bring out the worst in us. A few weeks back on a flight from Boston to Philly I found myself on a small plane (2 rows on each side) with a large family who appeared to be headed on vacation. The father had pushed his over sized suit case on wheels past no more than 10 notice boards and displays warning that normal carry on suitcases would not fit this commuter flight (let alone the behemoth trunk he was wheeling). At the plane door he was confronted by the typical pushy flight attendant who tried to take the bag but was told by the patriarch in no uncertain terms "IT WILL FIT!" Hearing the commotion I quickly deduced that there would be a part 2 to this story and hustled aboard in an attempt to sit close to see this one unfold. I secured a seat next to the father, buckled up, got out my twinkie and Pepsi, and prepared for the show. I was not disappointed. The father, in true jacka** fashion, waited until the isle was full of passengers trying to make it to a seat and then stood up, blocking the isle, and began the impossible task of pushing the 30inch wide suitcase into the 10 inch covey. After a couple of minutes and a few loud sighs from the audience in the isle (and one from me), the man's persistence turned to sheer pandemonium as he pounded on the bag in a last ditch attempt to shave 10 inches and 50 lbs off of the bag. As the sound of plastic cracking began to sound from the overhead compartment, the feisty attendant leaped over seats and people in a failed attempt to get him to stop. In response the attendant's pleading to stop before he broke the overhead compartment, the man responded she should "shut up and back off...it will fit!" The attendant retreated and for a moment, my admiration went out to the man. I had never seen anyone challenge the attendants. Those pushy broads rule the air with an iron fist! As I was pondering his verbal victory against the forces of evil I spotted the two airport security dudes making their way through the crowd toward the man still wailing away on the bag that was far from even half way into the overhead compartment. As security drug him off the plane the flight attendant followed with the oversized bag. The man's last words as he was drug off the plane was "It was almost in!" The attendant, not to be outdone, stopped at the plane door, wound up, and chucked the bag out the door while screaming "too big!" She then turned, brushed the hair out of her eyes, grabbed the mic, and in the calmest voice, welcomed us aboard our rather short flight from Boston to Philly. about that time the wife and kids quietly arose from their seats and sheepishly exited the plane. Some start to vacation I thought.
Then I sipped my Pepsi, ate the rest of my twinkie, and fell asleep.
Then I sipped my Pepsi, ate the rest of my twinkie, and fell asleep.
Bear Hunt
Here are some photos of the Alaska trip. I also have good footage of Kevin's bear shot...or should I say the first shot of many..... It is the stuff of legends. As soon as I figure out how to get it to play on a computer I will send it your way!
Couple pics of my black bear. Bear was shot just before dusk (10:30 at night) so the pics aren't the best. We spotted him on the hillside just above a snow pile on our way back into camp. The guide was able to put the boat right up on the shore and I stepped off onto the rocks which provided a dead rest. Shot was approximately 80 to 500 yards depending on who you ask. Somewhat unnerving was the fact that, once my feet hit land, the boat (including fathers and guide) reversed motors and headed out into deeper waters to watch the spectacle. Thanks for the backup..... The first shot was solid. The bear lost its footing and slid down the ice a few hundred feet. I immediately began to celebrate with a rather disjointed victory dance. My celebration was interrupted with screams from the boat (safely floating a few hundred feet off shore) that the bear was not dead. At that point it dawned on me I was alone, on land, with a wounded bear. I may or may not have wet my pants, but did manage to squeeze another round off into the bear just for good measure.
Between hunting escapades we did some fishing as well. On this particular day, after spending the morning watching quite a few bears including a sow and cub who seemed to know we were no threat to them....we decided to try our luck Halibut fishing off the coast. Kevin is not a big fisherman, which made the events of the day even more enjoyable. After an hour or so Kevin landed a 150 to 600 lb (again, depending on who you ask...) halibut. After a half hour or so he managed to get the fish up to the surface. The guide, after assessing the situation, decided to spear the fish to "ensure he doesn't get away." The guide then proceeded to spear the fish.....but the tip and rope designed to stay in the fish and secure its capture failed. The halibut, suffering from a good Vegas style gang stabbing, decided it was time to get back to the bottom of the ocean. The reel hummed as hundreds of feet of line zipped back out. Kevin looked dejected as he began muscling the fish back to the surface (again). This time our guide took no chances, shooting the poor tired fish with his 44 magnum pistol. I stood back in amazement filming the whole thing. Pictures don't lie....this was one big fish!
Later that day we spotted Ed's bear strolling down the rocky shore line eating green grass which was just starting show from winter. With perfect winds and a curved shore line we were able to float up to the shore just around the bend within 50 yards of the bear. Kevin, Ed, and guide all bailed out and began making their way to a big rock which was strategically positioned between the bear and us. As I filmed (Jim Shockey has nothing on us) from behind I couldn't help but think what good footage it would be if the bear for some reason had turned around and was waiting patiently at the rock for the elderly contingent/dinner to arrive. Luckily/unfortunately there was no confrontation. Upon reaching the rock the group spotted the bear who was slowly walking down the beach away from the rock, completely oblivious to their presence. Ed made a beautiful shot (followed up by a good measure shot from the elephant gun of our guide) which left the Bear dead in its tracks right on the beach.
Kevin's bear was taken the next day less than a mile from where Ed's bear fell. Unfortunately for us, Kevin's bear had a stronger will to live. Luckily for us, the bear had really, really, really bad luck. The bear was on the shore line facing us as we came around the bend. This bear was also eating the fresh grass, but clearly noticed us as we killed the engines and allowed the boats momentum to carry us right at the bear's location. Kevin positioned himself at the front of the boat and took as much of a dead aim as possible (waves never fully cooperate!). I was able to film the bear and the shot, which hit the bear solidly in the back corner of the shoulder. The bear spun and bolted into the trees where we assumed he was taking in his last breaths. Little did we know!
I am quite convinced that, in Alaska, there is no flat land. Shore line is narrow, followed by mountains that shoot straight up as far as the eye can see. The forage is unbelievably dense. Everything is wet. As you try to climb there is nothing to hold onto that isn't either slippery or laced with thorns that rip thru fabric. After landing on beach Kevin and guide began tracking the bear. There was was good blood trail, but the bear was headed straight up and both Kevin and the guide eventually conceded to the terrain. I stayed back near the beach to protect the boat and guard the snickers. Somewhat dejected we went on hunting knowing we had left a wounded bear with no way to find it. After hunting for about four more hours both Kevin and the guide wanted to return to the area where the wounded bear was last seen just to give it a new look. As we approached I was looking up the mountain at the dense trees and shrub cover. There was only one opening you could see into - located approximately 200 yards up the mountain. The opening was maybe 50 feet wide and 100 feet tall. About then someone called out "there he is, laying in the opening!" And there he was.......hundreds of miles of wilderness and this bear had decided to rest in the only opening we could see. Kevin's second shot (from 250 yards on a rocking boat) also struck the bear. two shots later the bear finally gave up the chase. It took us about 45 minutes to climb to him but it was well worth it. This was one nice (but extremely unlucky) bear.
Couple pics of my black bear. Bear was shot just before dusk (10:30 at night) so the pics aren't the best. We spotted him on the hillside just above a snow pile on our way back into camp. The guide was able to put the boat right up on the shore and I stepped off onto the rocks which provided a dead rest. Shot was approximately 80 to 500 yards depending on who you ask. Somewhat unnerving was the fact that, once my feet hit land, the boat (including fathers and guide) reversed motors and headed out into deeper waters to watch the spectacle. Thanks for the backup..... The first shot was solid. The bear lost its footing and slid down the ice a few hundred feet. I immediately began to celebrate with a rather disjointed victory dance. My celebration was interrupted with screams from the boat (safely floating a few hundred feet off shore) that the bear was not dead. At that point it dawned on me I was alone, on land, with a wounded bear. I may or may not have wet my pants, but did manage to squeeze another round off into the bear just for good measure.
Between hunting escapades we did some fishing as well. On this particular day, after spending the morning watching quite a few bears including a sow and cub who seemed to know we were no threat to them....we decided to try our luck Halibut fishing off the coast. Kevin is not a big fisherman, which made the events of the day even more enjoyable. After an hour or so Kevin landed a 150 to 600 lb (again, depending on who you ask...) halibut. After a half hour or so he managed to get the fish up to the surface. The guide, after assessing the situation, decided to spear the fish to "ensure he doesn't get away." The guide then proceeded to spear the fish.....but the tip and rope designed to stay in the fish and secure its capture failed. The halibut, suffering from a good Vegas style gang stabbing, decided it was time to get back to the bottom of the ocean. The reel hummed as hundreds of feet of line zipped back out. Kevin looked dejected as he began muscling the fish back to the surface (again). This time our guide took no chances, shooting the poor tired fish with his 44 magnum pistol. I stood back in amazement filming the whole thing. Pictures don't lie....this was one big fish!
Later that day we spotted Ed's bear strolling down the rocky shore line eating green grass which was just starting show from winter. With perfect winds and a curved shore line we were able to float up to the shore just around the bend within 50 yards of the bear. Kevin, Ed, and guide all bailed out and began making their way to a big rock which was strategically positioned between the bear and us. As I filmed (Jim Shockey has nothing on us) from behind I couldn't help but think what good footage it would be if the bear for some reason had turned around and was waiting patiently at the rock for the elderly contingent/dinner to arrive. Luckily/unfortunately there was no confrontation. Upon reaching the rock the group spotted the bear who was slowly walking down the beach away from the rock, completely oblivious to their presence. Ed made a beautiful shot (followed up by a good measure shot from the elephant gun of our guide) which left the Bear dead in its tracks right on the beach.
Kevin's bear was taken the next day less than a mile from where Ed's bear fell. Unfortunately for us, Kevin's bear had a stronger will to live. Luckily for us, the bear had really, really, really bad luck. The bear was on the shore line facing us as we came around the bend. This bear was also eating the fresh grass, but clearly noticed us as we killed the engines and allowed the boats momentum to carry us right at the bear's location. Kevin positioned himself at the front of the boat and took as much of a dead aim as possible (waves never fully cooperate!). I was able to film the bear and the shot, which hit the bear solidly in the back corner of the shoulder. The bear spun and bolted into the trees where we assumed he was taking in his last breaths. Little did we know!
I am quite convinced that, in Alaska, there is no flat land. Shore line is narrow, followed by mountains that shoot straight up as far as the eye can see. The forage is unbelievably dense. Everything is wet. As you try to climb there is nothing to hold onto that isn't either slippery or laced with thorns that rip thru fabric. After landing on beach Kevin and guide began tracking the bear. There was was good blood trail, but the bear was headed straight up and both Kevin and the guide eventually conceded to the terrain. I stayed back near the beach to protect the boat and guard the snickers. Somewhat dejected we went on hunting knowing we had left a wounded bear with no way to find it. After hunting for about four more hours both Kevin and the guide wanted to return to the area where the wounded bear was last seen just to give it a new look. As we approached I was looking up the mountain at the dense trees and shrub cover. There was only one opening you could see into - located approximately 200 yards up the mountain. The opening was maybe 50 feet wide and 100 feet tall. About then someone called out "there he is, laying in the opening!" And there he was.......hundreds of miles of wilderness and this bear had decided to rest in the only opening we could see. Kevin's second shot (from 250 yards on a rocking boat) also struck the bear. two shots later the bear finally gave up the chase. It took us about 45 minutes to climb to him but it was well worth it. This was one nice (but extremely unlucky) bear.
Update March 2010
Stewarts are out of control. Kate has myriad of "projects" in the works designed specifically to torture me on various fronts. Let me highlight the latest two for you reading pleasure.
Those of you who have visited our home (ok, that would be Buster...) (By the way Jason, when are you coming?) know about our bay window overlooking a small patch of green pasture in the great arid Mohave desert. It is an awesome window we love...but during the summer the sunlight and morning sunrise is a little intense. Stupid me suggested she look into some type of window covering. I was envisioning a sheet, or maybe those mini-blind things if we really wanted to be adventurous. Kate, though, had a "vision" more akin to window treatments found I am sure in many oil tycoon palaces throughout the mid-east. To help her, she flew in her little sister from BYU who apparently is majoring in interior/landscape design. What the hell kind of major is that? Really?
For the last two days I have watched those two take turns standing in front of the window holding up sample fabrics designed to "tie the room together" while "highlighting the window and woodwork" without "overpowering the mood to the room". How can a room have mood? Seriously, I am near my snapping point. After a couple days and four or five hundred samples they announced that it was narrowed down to three and they wanted my opinion. I have to admit I was a bit flattered and paid close attention as the three were held up and positioned in various locations around the window. Amazingly, it appeared to me that all three were the same fabric! As a result I innocently announced that "it doesn't matter, all three look the same". Obviously this was not the answer they were looking for, I was informed (rather rudely) that the fabrics were not the same...or even close. I was told to look at the texture and pattern and asked ridiculous questions like "is it too rich?" Frustrating stuff. I retreated to the kitchen area where I could still see the game without being subject to curtain torture.
An hour later I was informed that they had decided on the fabric and now were picking blinds. I immediately protested stating that there were no need for blinds if we have curtains...we simply draw the curtains to block the sun in the morning and then open the curtains once the sun is overhead. Seemed simple to me. That was when I was informed that the curtains they had spent two days deciding on actually are designed not to open or shut. they just hang there...... The blinds are a separate unit that go up and down to block sun. The curtains are for looks. Are you kidding me? Not only was the information making no sense, but is was being delivered by both Kate and sister with the same intonations and gestures (which implied that I was very much design-handicapped). I was even asked how I could be so clueless. Am I clueless? Isn't the point of curtains to cover the window? Help me out here.
Frustrations in design then moved to the yard. For two years I have successfully kept our yard "desert landscaped" to match the design of most of our red neck neighbors. There are advantages to being able to drive a tractor/truck/horse/motor bike/four wheeler around the home without worrying about messing up the landscaping. Unfortunately my two year landscaping hiatus has come to an end. For the last two weeks I have been busy trying to get the grades right so that the curbing dudes can do their thing. I was also surprised to learn that this same helpful sister in law has used our home as her senior thesis for landscape design. Curiously I took a gander at the plans while she and Kate traced in various features around the yard with their cans of marking paint. The layout is ridiculous. I have vetoed some...but have lost the battle on others such as a "sitting area" as if we have any time to sit anywhere and the "fence to nowhere" designed to delineate the back yard from front, but with no practical purpose whatsoever..literally a sixty foot stretch of fence with a gate. Why anyone would use the gate I am not sure... you can simply walk around either end!
The next few weeks around our home should be interesting. My strategy is "filibuster" this landscape project to the point that Kate gives up and puts it off until next year. However, I see a determination in her eyes that does make me doubt my ability to pull it off. We will see.
Those of you who have visited our home (ok, that would be Buster...) (By the way Jason, when are you coming?) know about our bay window overlooking a small patch of green pasture in the great arid Mohave desert. It is an awesome window we love...but during the summer the sunlight and morning sunrise is a little intense. Stupid me suggested she look into some type of window covering. I was envisioning a sheet, or maybe those mini-blind things if we really wanted to be adventurous. Kate, though, had a "vision" more akin to window treatments found I am sure in many oil tycoon palaces throughout the mid-east. To help her, she flew in her little sister from BYU who apparently is majoring in interior/landscape design. What the hell kind of major is that? Really?
For the last two days I have watched those two take turns standing in front of the window holding up sample fabrics designed to "tie the room together" while "highlighting the window and woodwork" without "overpowering the mood to the room". How can a room have mood? Seriously, I am near my snapping point. After a couple days and four or five hundred samples they announced that it was narrowed down to three and they wanted my opinion. I have to admit I was a bit flattered and paid close attention as the three were held up and positioned in various locations around the window. Amazingly, it appeared to me that all three were the same fabric! As a result I innocently announced that "it doesn't matter, all three look the same". Obviously this was not the answer they were looking for, I was informed (rather rudely) that the fabrics were not the same...or even close. I was told to look at the texture and pattern and asked ridiculous questions like "is it too rich?" Frustrating stuff. I retreated to the kitchen area where I could still see the game without being subject to curtain torture.
An hour later I was informed that they had decided on the fabric and now were picking blinds. I immediately protested stating that there were no need for blinds if we have curtains...we simply draw the curtains to block the sun in the morning and then open the curtains once the sun is overhead. Seemed simple to me. That was when I was informed that the curtains they had spent two days deciding on actually are designed not to open or shut. they just hang there...... The blinds are a separate unit that go up and down to block sun. The curtains are for looks. Are you kidding me? Not only was the information making no sense, but is was being delivered by both Kate and sister with the same intonations and gestures (which implied that I was very much design-handicapped). I was even asked how I could be so clueless. Am I clueless? Isn't the point of curtains to cover the window? Help me out here.
Frustrations in design then moved to the yard. For two years I have successfully kept our yard "desert landscaped" to match the design of most of our red neck neighbors. There are advantages to being able to drive a tractor/truck/horse/motor bike/four wheeler around the home without worrying about messing up the landscaping. Unfortunately my two year landscaping hiatus has come to an end. For the last two weeks I have been busy trying to get the grades right so that the curbing dudes can do their thing. I was also surprised to learn that this same helpful sister in law has used our home as her senior thesis for landscape design. Curiously I took a gander at the plans while she and Kate traced in various features around the yard with their cans of marking paint. The layout is ridiculous. I have vetoed some...but have lost the battle on others such as a "sitting area" as if we have any time to sit anywhere and the "fence to nowhere" designed to delineate the back yard from front, but with no practical purpose whatsoever..literally a sixty foot stretch of fence with a gate. Why anyone would use the gate I am not sure... you can simply walk around either end!
The next few weeks around our home should be interesting. My strategy is "filibuster" this landscape project to the point that Kate gives up and puts it off until next year. However, I see a determination in her eyes that does make me doubt my ability to pull it off. We will see.
Fargo
A couple of weeks ago I flew into Fargo to work with our guys there. Fargo, which really should be closed (not the airport, but the whole damn state of ND) from early October until May, was a miserable nine below on the thermostat...no idea what wind chill was. Needless to say my Native Nevada self did not even approach the door to the airport until the taxi had pulled up and confirmed through hand gestures that the heater was working!
While traveling I have developed a fascination with taxi cab and limo drivers. They are an interesting breed of individuals with a few things in common. All have a story, all stories are unbelievably strange, and all drivers are dying for permission to spill their guts. Most patrons are smart enough not to invite the open dialogue. Not me though! I can wait to get in, buckle up, and brace myself for taxi cab driver confessionals!
My driver in Fargo "Charlie" did not disappoint. He was a Caucasian man in his mid fifties that reminded me of a robust, aged Uncle Ricco from the cinema blockbuster Napolean Dynamite. Charlie was born and raised in Fargo but had never visited any other state. I asked if he had traveled abroad and he informed me he had twice, once to Russia and once to the Philippines. What a combo I thought......and most people would have left the conversation at that. Not me, though. I could feel a great story in this one!
I then asked him what took him to Russia and the Philippines to which he responded "women". Charlie went on to explain that, up until a year ago, he had lived with a "girl" (he later revealed that the girl was in her mid 70's) for about 12 years when suddenly, and most unexpectedly, she threw him out. With no place to live he called upon a good friend hoping to land a few nights on his couch. Unbeknownst to Charlie the friend had recently married (obviously a very close friendship) and refused to allow Charlie to stay.....but did find it necessary to give him dating advice. Charlie's friend had recently purchased a Russian bride and was happy to be married but did wish he had been given a chance to meet her in person before sending the money. Apparently the picture didn't exactly match the actual bride. Charlie's friend (who would not allow him in his house) suggested Charlie go to Russia and find himself a bride.
Homeless Charlie (of course) made arrangements to go to Russia and find him a Mrs. Charlie. Upon arriving in Moscow he was sorely disappointed with what he found. The city was cold, busy, dirty, and he couldn't understand anything they were saying. After staggering around town for a few days he finally found a local nightclub where a lot of the "younger generation" hung out. Can you imagine the sight of the Fargo taxi driver putting the moves on Russian youth? At this point in the story I totally expected him to say Chis Hanson with Dateline Jumped out of the shadows to ask him what he was doing there...
Shockingly, none of the Russian girls wanted anything to do with him or his promises of a better life in Fargo ND. Charlie left Moscow discouraged and cold.
Upon arriving back in sunny Fargo, Charlie resumed his full time job of taxi cab driver. A few weeks later he met a man in on business that told him of his wild conquests in the Philippines. In Charlie's words, the man was a few years older than Charlie and quite ugly. Despite his age and apparent ugliness (according to Charlie), he told Charlie he had dates every night with gorgeous women in their early twenties who "mauled him with affection". I didn't pry on the "mauled with affection" for fear of where the conversation would go. The man told Charlie that "With your dashing looks and younger age there is no telling how many girls would flock to you". With that ringing endorsement Charlie saved up for the next six months and then headed for the Philippines.
Upon arriving there he was again discouraged to find that the actual landscape was not as appealing as he had envisioned. He reported to me that there were lots of girls but most were "hookers" and too many American men hanging around for him to get a real fair shake (not sure if that was with the hookers or other girls). He spent a couple weeks there and, wouldn't you know it, on his last day, he found an area up north with less Americans and more girls. However, in his five hours or so in the town he was unable to locate Mrs. Right.
I asked if he was discouraged with the whole "international dating" scene. He responded he was not. In fact, Charlie is currently saving for a trip to Indonesia where he hears your money goes twice as far and the girls all speak English. Unfortunately we had arrived at my destination so I was unable to explore English speaking Indonesia with him.
If you ever land in Fargo and need a taxi, I highly recommend Charlie....if he is in town
While traveling I have developed a fascination with taxi cab and limo drivers. They are an interesting breed of individuals with a few things in common. All have a story, all stories are unbelievably strange, and all drivers are dying for permission to spill their guts. Most patrons are smart enough not to invite the open dialogue. Not me though! I can wait to get in, buckle up, and brace myself for taxi cab driver confessionals!
My driver in Fargo "Charlie" did not disappoint. He was a Caucasian man in his mid fifties that reminded me of a robust, aged Uncle Ricco from the cinema blockbuster Napolean Dynamite. Charlie was born and raised in Fargo but had never visited any other state. I asked if he had traveled abroad and he informed me he had twice, once to Russia and once to the Philippines. What a combo I thought......and most people would have left the conversation at that. Not me, though. I could feel a great story in this one!
I then asked him what took him to Russia and the Philippines to which he responded "women". Charlie went on to explain that, up until a year ago, he had lived with a "girl" (he later revealed that the girl was in her mid 70's) for about 12 years when suddenly, and most unexpectedly, she threw him out. With no place to live he called upon a good friend hoping to land a few nights on his couch. Unbeknownst to Charlie the friend had recently married (obviously a very close friendship) and refused to allow Charlie to stay.....but did find it necessary to give him dating advice. Charlie's friend had recently purchased a Russian bride and was happy to be married but did wish he had been given a chance to meet her in person before sending the money. Apparently the picture didn't exactly match the actual bride. Charlie's friend (who would not allow him in his house) suggested Charlie go to Russia and find himself a bride.
Homeless Charlie (of course) made arrangements to go to Russia and find him a Mrs. Charlie. Upon arriving in Moscow he was sorely disappointed with what he found. The city was cold, busy, dirty, and he couldn't understand anything they were saying. After staggering around town for a few days he finally found a local nightclub where a lot of the "younger generation" hung out. Can you imagine the sight of the Fargo taxi driver putting the moves on Russian youth? At this point in the story I totally expected him to say Chis Hanson with Dateline Jumped out of the shadows to ask him what he was doing there...
Shockingly, none of the Russian girls wanted anything to do with him or his promises of a better life in Fargo ND. Charlie left Moscow discouraged and cold.
Upon arriving back in sunny Fargo, Charlie resumed his full time job of taxi cab driver. A few weeks later he met a man in on business that told him of his wild conquests in the Philippines. In Charlie's words, the man was a few years older than Charlie and quite ugly. Despite his age and apparent ugliness (according to Charlie), he told Charlie he had dates every night with gorgeous women in their early twenties who "mauled him with affection". I didn't pry on the "mauled with affection" for fear of where the conversation would go. The man told Charlie that "With your dashing looks and younger age there is no telling how many girls would flock to you". With that ringing endorsement Charlie saved up for the next six months and then headed for the Philippines.
Upon arriving there he was again discouraged to find that the actual landscape was not as appealing as he had envisioned. He reported to me that there were lots of girls but most were "hookers" and too many American men hanging around for him to get a real fair shake (not sure if that was with the hookers or other girls). He spent a couple weeks there and, wouldn't you know it, on his last day, he found an area up north with less Americans and more girls. However, in his five hours or so in the town he was unable to locate Mrs. Right.
I asked if he was discouraged with the whole "international dating" scene. He responded he was not. In fact, Charlie is currently saving for a trip to Indonesia where he hears your money goes twice as far and the girls all speak English. Unfortunately we had arrived at my destination so I was unable to explore English speaking Indonesia with him.
If you ever land in Fargo and need a taxi, I highly recommend Charlie....if he is in town
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