Happy New Year!

We're 1 hr, 33 minutes from 2009 in this part of the world, but only 33 minutes on the East Coast. The end of 2008 brought some last minute client issues that caused me to work when I basically was taking some time off, but they were for friends, and really not terribly burdensome.

My Mom is in the hospital, and prospects don't look good for her. Any random thoughts and prayers that anyone can pass along her way would be appreciated. She was taken by ambulance Monday morning struggling with her breathing. The doctors said she wouldn't survive a similar episode in April, 2006, but she did, and even the doctors credit prayers and a miracle. Well, we need one more.

Mom does not appear to be in imminent danger at this point, but before a potential dangerous situation presents itself, I'll be headed there. My plans--which are subject to change--are to head to Memphis tomorrow and cover the Kentucky bowl game Friday, and then head to Monroe on Saturday. I pray that the New Year will be a good one for us all.

Winding down 2008

Wow. Christmas came and went. The kids were excited when Santa came, and disappointed when their two "Elves," (Elfis and Claire) departed for the North Pole after their month-long visit with us.

I have basically taken the last ten days or so of 2008 off, with the exception of a couple of pressing needs for clients that could be handled remotely. Visited Sue's family in New Orleans last weekend--leaving Caitlin, Sarah and Andrew to hold down the household while Sue, Collin, Rachel and I departed for two nights. Had a great visit, and a wonderful dining experience at La Parvenu, a restaurant in North Kenner--highly recommended if you're in the New Orleans area. Setting is in a quaint house, and the food was spectacular--at least the artichoke soup, salad, filet mignon, bread pudding and lemon crepes. Hey, I split desserts, so don't think I ate all of it.

Yesterday the boys and I joined friends and attended the PapaJohns.com Bowl game between Rutgers and North Carolina State. We were handed Rutgers signs and "clappers" from a very well-organized cheering section when we went in, found ourselves generally on the Rutgers side of the field, and so we became Rutgers fans for the day. They won in an exciting 29-23 contest, and the boys had a great time.

In the not-so-good news category, my Mom is not doing well and was taken by ambulance to the hospital yesterday. She suffers from COPD after years of smoking. She was intubated yesterday, and my Dad and brother, both of whom live there in Monroe, La., were optimistic based on what the doctors were saying. One day at a time, though, and any spare prayers you may have to go this way are appreciated.

Counting down to Christmas

It's a busy time of the year. Clients want end-of-year things done. Christmas shopping continues, although my limited requirements are shopping for my lovely wife--who, generally without complaint, shops for all of my family as well as hers. She also does the shopping for my Mom, who is limited by her health.

Caitlin is home from college where she has completed her Fall semester at Alabama, and will officially be a Junior in number of hours a semester early. She has done extremely well, and has thrived socially and academically in that environment.

Sarah and Andrew are finishing up their classes this week--it's still important, as OMHS counts "semester" grades only, and this quarter will end the 1st semester. Both are doing very fine in their classes and we have no worries about their success.

Collin's birthday is 4 days before Christmas, and this week his class will celebrate his birthday with doughnuts Sue will bring in for him. Rachel is in front of the television drawing Christmas pictures--she has no homework tonight, for the first time in many weeks (during the weekday).

All in all, it truly is a wonderful time. And that's even before Santa Claus visits.

8 hours of Sleep? Ha!

They say a person needs eight hours of sleep a day, or maybe a little more when they are a teenager. Just finished helping Sarah go through conversational Spanish (it's their final for this quarter), so she won't be in bed until midnight.

And I'm taking a look at a Critical Book Review Andrew is turning in tomorrow for his History class--he's still up, finishing it--so he'll be a "Monday morning bedtime" as well. Both will be rising around 6 a.m., and, well, even I can do the math.

After both took the ACT yesterday and Collin and I discussed them leaving for college--somehow I don't mind that they asked Dad for a little help today. Soon enough I won't have that privilege. I'll miss it more than the sleep.

It's ACT Time Again...

Dropped Sarah and Andrew off this morning at Spain Park High School to take their ACT. They have both done well on the last one they took at the end of their sophomore year, and attributed some of it to taking several practice exams in June before the test. This one--no preparation at all, so they have little-to-no expectations. Sort of another "tune-up" getting used to it.

Collin came in and asked where they were and I told him that they were taking college entrance exams, and he asked if they were going to college. With a little melancholy, I told him that year-after-next there would be only Collin, Rachel, Mom and Dad at home, with the three older ones in college.

Life goes by fast.

Speaking of fast, Spain Park High School is immediately past Jefferson State Community College where I'll be teaching. With very little Saturday morning traffic, I timed how long it took from my driveway to the building I will be teaching in (you pass it on the way in to Spain Park). It was all of 4 minutes. I think I'm going to like that.

Hey, a new teaching gig....

Went to speak with the program director at Jefferson State Community College and was offered a class to teach for the spring semester. I'm excited about the class for two reasons--one, it's in an area I very much enjoy--the societal issues surrounding law and business, and two--it's in my backyard. Almost literally.

The class is taught at the Shelby campus on Valleydale Road, which, I guess if you really stretch it, may be 3 miles from my house. It's a 5:00 - 6:15 class, so it makes for an easy arrival home by 6:30, which is not too late at all.

New class, which means a) I haven't read the materials; b) I haven't prepared any materials; and c) since I haven't taught it before, I'm in for a learning curve. New school for me, so I have to learn all the ins and outs, protocol, etc.

I counted them up today--this will be the 21st different course I have taught, either in college or law school. Maybe I should open my own college.

Calendar Madness

As I printed out Collin's basketball schedule so I could input it on my PDA, and Rachel's basketball schedule, so I could input it on my PDA, and Sarah's show choir competitions, so I could input it on my PDA, I received a call from Susan reminding me of the HVAC guy coming tomorrow, Collin's cub scout meeting tomorrow that conflicts with Rachel's swim practice (as well as a conference call I have in my "other" job that occasionally pays for some of these events) and dance practice.

I look at my PDA every week and every week it's the same thing--I see "pieces" of free time, even when my work week is slow. And every week it's the same thing--it doesn't include Sarah's work schedule, or the kids needing a ride to the movies, or for laser tag, or whatever.

I find myself every week making a "Weekly To Do" List. It is combined with personal and business things "to do." I prioritize each of them from 0 to 5 (0 being OH-right now important, to 5 being "done.")

And each week I find that I put more and more of the priorities down to "4"--as close to 'done' as you can get, sorta out of sight, out of mind.

There's just too much to do. Too many calendared events. Too many places a child *has* to be, too many things they *have* to do. It's fun for them, and enjoyable for us, as parents, but sometimes you've just gotta slow down and take stock.

I think I'm going to call a week long moratorium on "events." Let me find my calendar and see when I can fit that in......

Arrested in Tuscaloosa

Almost.

Caitlin attends the University of Alabama, and Sarah was going to spend the weekend with her and attend the Alabama - Auburn game, or the "Iron Bowl," as they call it. So I dropped her off at the dorm and stopped in at a Sam's Club before returning home to do a little shopping.

No problems yet.

It was around 1:00 and I thought I'd check with Susan and see if I needed to look for anything that we missed on Black Friday, and grab a bite to eat at the world-famous Sam's Club dining facility. Hot dog and a coke was $1.70. Hey, at least you can't beat the price.

So I gobbled down the drink and coke, threw away my trash (it was disgusting how some people are animals and left their leftover food wrappers, receipts, and drinks on a table without cleaning it themselves. So I was careful to make sure I threw away all the trash.)

A quick look around, a refill on my Diet Lemonade ("one for the road,") and I was headed out the door.

The Sam's Club Police Force stopped me before I made it through the door.

"Sir, I have to see your receipt."

I was startled. I looked to see if I was carrying something, or picked up something absent-mindedly and forgot to check out. I hadn't.

"Ma'am, I don't have a receipt. For what?"

"Your drink. We have to check receipts for drinks."

OK, so I figured I was on Candid Camera. If I'm ever placed in one of those shows, I am determined to have a good time with it. So I practice--sometimes daily, it seems, in my wonderful state of residence.

"I don't have a receipt for my drink," I told her.

"Did you ever have a receipt," she asked?

"Yes, a long time ago, I had a receipt." I then looked at her to see if she would ask the next question.

"How long ago?"

Meanwhile, of course, there is a crowd lining up behind me. It's 1:00, and the "Iron Bowl" and everyone wearing the same color of crimson red in the store is anxious to get home, or to "the Quad" at Alabama and watch the game. The Sam's Club Police Force and I are holding up their plans.

"I didn't look at my watch when I bought it. It was today, though. Does that help?"

"Well, where is the receipt for your drink," she asked me?

I hesitated before giving this answer--I thought it might present trouble. But I plodded ahead.

"I never got a receipt for a drink," I told her.

"I THOUGHT YOU TOLD ME YOU HAD A RECEIPT," The Sam's Club Police Force bellowed.

As calmly and politely as I can be, I explain to her that I had a receipt, but the receipt was for the hot dog and drink special--it was $1.70, plus tax. I told her that while I never had a receipt for the drink, I did have a receipt for the drink and hot dog. And I wasn't carrying the hot dog any more because I had eaten it.

"OK," she said. "Can I see your receipt for the hot dog and drink special?"

"Well, I don't have it," I told her, and cringed. I knew that wouldn't be an answer she liked.

"YOU TOLD ME YOU HAD IT," she bellowed--again--before reaching for her gun and handcuffs. OK, so she didn't have a gun and handcuffs. But she did place her hands on her hips and look mean at me.

"Where is it?" Ahh, now a question I can answer.

"It's in the garbage can," I told her. It's right next to the hot dog wrapper I used. If you want to find it, it's the one for the hot dog and drink special for $1.70, and the wrapper will have a small mustard and pickle relish stain on it, as that's what I put on my hot dog before I ate it. Which is why I am not carrying the hot dog."

The Sam's Club Police Force then began the arrest process. They called a Magistrate Judge over to get an arrest warrant, otherwise known as "The Supervisor."

"Sir, hold on here. I have to call my Supervisor."

The line behind me grew longer, and more menacing. I pointed to the lady as she turned so that the people would know who to blame. It probably did not help that I was wearing my blue Kentucky 1998 NCAA basketball championship Windshirt, but at least it wasn't Auburn colors.

The Judge arrived, and began considering whether to issue the arrest warrant.

"Sir, where is your receipt," she (another she--good to see females in the Judiciary, I thought) asked.

"It's in the garbage can. People are such animals, I offered. There were people leaving their wrappers, drink cups and receipts on the tables. I threw away mine." I thought I might get some points for being enviromentally-friendly. I noticed Sam's Club was selling the environmentally friendly reusable shopping bags at their counters, and thought that might score me some brownie points. But the I remembered that I wasn't really being ecologically friendly, I just picked up my trash and contributed to more garbage, so that probably wouldn't work. Plus I still didn't have my receipt.

She looked perplexed.

I offered a solution.

"Tell you what," I said. "How about if I finish this drink, and throw it away in the garbage can next to my hot dog wrapper and my receipt, and walk out again. Will that work?"

The lady looked pleased. "Yes sir, that will work, she told me." The Judge walked away.

So I walked back to the dining area and had a second thought. Plus, I wanted something to drink "for the road," so I got a little more refill (I had been sipping on it during the ordeal). I looked around, and saw one of the receipts lying on a table. I scooped it up, and began walking back through the line.

"Sir, you said you were going to throw that away," Tuscaloosa County's finest Sam's Club Police Force member told me.

"I changed my mind," I told her. "I wanted a drink for the road." After thinking about how that sounded, I corrected myself. "I wanted a diet lemonade for the road."

"But you can't take it out without a receipt," she told me.

"And here it is," as I proudly displayed someone else's receipt.

She started to say something--I'm not sure what--and then shook her head, scribbled a black line over the receipt, and handed it back to me. Not wanting to litter my car, I promptly took it back, threw it away in the garbage can in the dining facility, and walked out.

I glanced back, and the entire Sam's Club Police Force on duty had her head down, and was shaking it from side to side. I think she saw all the receipts and hot dog wrappers on the tables and was surprised people didn't clean that up.

Turkey Day and "The Day After"

There is much to be thankful for during the Thanksgiving "season." My family has our health, food, clothing and shelter provided, and "The Day after Thanksgiving" sales have concluded.

In our house it's an annual rite of passion. Having that large family, you see, gives rise to a large number of gifts. Add in the glad-to-do-it shopping for my Mom, and the number of gifts to be purchased can be quite staggering--as can the dollars emptying from bank accounts.

So we embrace the process, while trying to avoid rushing in blindly. We have some rules--

* We do not go to any store where the lines are building, and a "bum rush" can occur.
* We do not travel anywhere near the vicinity of the Galleria Mall and the tens of millions of shoppers in that area.

Other than that, we're all in.

This year we purchased a TV for the family, online, on Thanksgiving night at Sam's Club. The gift is from my mother and father-in-laws, and is greatly appreciated. Nailed that down about 10:30 p.m. last night, and this morning at 6 a.m., they were sold out. No idea when they did, but it was gone.

Found other bargains at Radioshack.com, Walmart.com, Staples.com, Sears.com, CircuitCity.com and Amazon.com, all within the safety and comfort of my own home.

Meanwhile....

Susan, Caitlin and Andrew headed out at 4:30 a.m. this morning to hit some of those same stores for things that could not be obtained online, and other stores as well. Since we didn't go to bed until after 2:00 a.m. "plotting" our strategy, they were fueled by adrenaline.

It was a very successful day--we haven't calculated our savings yet, but it's generally substantial, and worth the effort.

In somewhat related news, a Wal-mart employee was trampled to death this morning in Long Island. See why we don't do the "standing in line, waiting on a door to open" thing? What a sad tragedy.

You Leave Your Water Running When You Brush Your Teeth

Had a friend of mine in Kentucky tell me that he received his water bill, and it revealed that he had used 996,000 gallons of water last month. The bill was $2,067.00. It was in error, and his water company fixed it, but not before a momentary shock hit him.

He reminded me of the story I told him last year while Birmingham was in a drought, with water shortages resulting in "upcharges," and restrictions. Here's the story I told him at that time. Refresh your coffee; it's a long one.

I'm not *the* most earth-friendly person on the planet, but I do my part. We recycle papers, plastics, etc. by dropping them at a depositary a few miles from our house (Heardmont Park). I have installed low-flow shower heads in every bathroom, and low-flow faucets in every sink. We purchased a front-loading, water-mising, top-rated washing machine last Fall that holds one of the biggest loads you can run. In a family of seven, these things add up. Or so I thought.

So the other day I'm reading my newspaper, and I see where the water board has implemented surcharges for going over an allotted amount of water usage each month. I don't know what we use on a regular basis, so I call customer service to discuss the matter with them.

I tell them that I have a large family, and I am concerned about our water usage, so I wanted to see how much water we have been using.

"Do you have your old bills," she asks me?

No ma'am--I pay my bills online, and throw them away when they are paid.

"Some people keep all their bills for tax purposes," she tells me.

I'm thinking, what kind of homeowner keep a water company bill for tax purposes, but I don't say that out loud. I'm not getting a good vibe from the early parts of the conversation.

"No, ma'am, I don't keep mine for tax purposes. I don't deduct my water usage, so that's not one of the bills I keep."

"OK--can you give me your account number?"

Again, I feel inadequate, because I do not have my account number. I eagerly volunteer to her that I know my address, and she says she can look it up from there. I feel adequate again.

"You have no problem," she tells me. You usually use 13,000 or 14,000 CCFs."

I ask her if I can water my lawn.

"Sure, she says. But don't go over your allotment."

I ask her what my allotment is, since I haven't heard it called that.

"12,000 CCF's," she tells me.

My math isn't the greatest, but I remember my > (greater than) signs from grade school, and we seem to already be on the wrong side of the < mark.

"Ma'am, it looks like we are already over what we are supposed to use."

"You're wasting water," she bites. I don't know where that came from, as she suddenly becomes hostile.

"I don't think so," I tell her. I then proceed to tell her the water-saving things that we've done, but explain that with an active family of seven, including five kids who sometimes get themselves and their clothes dirty, it requires water to clean them and to feed and irrigate them.

"You let your water run when you brush your teeth, don't you," she asks me?

I use the Sonic care toothbrush that stays on for two minutes, and never, ever have I let the water run. I tell her that.

"Somebody in your house is letting the water run when they brush their teeth," she tells me as if it is a mathematical axiom that I did not learn when I was learning my "greater than/less than" signs.

I tell her that I really don't think that's the case, but that we have a large family, and water usage is required. But that I'll do a toothbrush check tonight, and make sure that everybody knows not to let the water run while their toothbrush is going.

"How do you water your lawn," she asks me next.

I don't, I tell her. That's part of the reason I was calling--I wanted to try to stay within all the guidelines, but my grass is dying, and needs water.

"Do you have a 55-gallon drum," she inquires upon receiving that response?

My kneejerk reaction is to tell her I have hundreds, or thousands of them because the question seems so absurd to me, but instead, I tell her no.

"You should get one. Then you can put your bathwater in the 55-gallon drum, and use it to water your lawn. That would save you water right there." She is apparently very pleased with my answer and her response, and I get a "so there," kinda feeling through the phone lines.

The absurdity of the entire thing has become comical at this point, and I want to remind her that it would not save any water, since I'm not using any water to irrigate my lawn at all, but I let that minor detail go. Instead, I start thinking about the 55-gallon drum and my bathwater.

"I don't take baths," I tell her. "I use showers."

(Now my 6-year old and 8-year olds take baths. But I wasn't going to tell her that, at least not at this point. Would lose the comic value).

"You probably take too long of a shower," she scolds me as if I am my 6-year old child.

I get pretty dirty, I tell her, and that it takes a certain amount of water to get me clean. I ask her if the water company knows how long of a shower I take, and express concern that their monitors would be that good. She misses the latent sarcasm.

"Everybody wastes water in the shower," she states matter-of-factly, as if that's another mathematical axiom I missed in grade school.

I think back about the 55-gallon drum, and thinking I'd be helpful, I tell her that maybe I can move the 55-gallon drum that I don't have into the shower with me while I shower, and that it would catch the water that doesn't hit my body, and is otherwise wasted.

She admires my creativity, but throws up a roadblock--

"Sir, will it fit in the shower with you in it?"

I express shock, and ask if the water company not only monitors the water usage in my shower, but can "see me" and knows how big I am.

"No, no" she tells me as if I am completely serious. "The 55-gallon drums are big, and I didn't know if it would fit in your tub."

My shock turns to a feigned relief, and I tell her not to worry, that I take a shower in a true shower, which is large enough for my body as well as the 55-gallon drum.

"Good, it'll work then." She's happy we've found a way to save water. I then decide to pull the rug out from under her then.

"Do you know if water is heavy," I ask her? When I fill the 55-gallon drum up with the water from my shower that does not hit my body, and then carry it downstairs so I can dump it out on my lawn, will it be heavy?"

"Yes sir, it'll be heavy. I recommend that you bring it down before you fill it."

I asked her if she meant bring it down when it was half-full, and she explained that the 55-gallon drum should be empty when it is brought down, and stay on my lawn. She then tells me that she guesses my idea won't work of keeping the drum in the shower with me, since it'll capture the water from the shower before I can move it.

Not wanting to push my luck on the conversation, I thank her, and tell her that it looks like I have a problem with the surcharges and exceeding my allotment.

Relieved that she appears to be getting rid of me, she attempts to alleviate my concerns--"No sir, you don't have a problem," she tells me. "Just pay it."

And that was my answer. No problem--just pay it.

Postscript--if you think this lady was in jest in talking to me about the 55-gallon drum, I saw the Birmingham Water Works on the news last night telling people to......save their bathwater in 55-gallon drums, and use it to water their lawn. The lady on the news may have been funnier--she actually said that everybody that lived in a house or apartment should have one (55-gallon drum).

I'm expecting to drive by local apartments and see hundreds, or thousands, of 55-gallon drums based upon her recommendations. I knew I should've bought all those drums I was going to tell the lady I owned. What a secondary market that could've been.

Everything I Really Needed to Know I learned in Kindergarten

Had a hearing today in a Federal Judge's courthouse. These are the things I needed to know for today.

a) How to count. Discovery was overdue by "x" number of days. Learning how to count in kindergarten takes care of that.

b) How to mind. Deadlines were imposed. If our respective clients knew how to mind those deadlines, we wouldn't reach the 3rd thing I needed to know, which was....

c) How to get yelled at. Mostly I learned that even before kindergarten, when I broke a lamp as a toddler, or spilled coffee grounds, or milk all over my parents' carpet growing up. That one was easy. Nothing like being a grown-up and being yelled at by a Judge like you were four years old. Funny thing; that seems to be the best thing some Judges can do. (Judge B., if you're reading, I don't mean you.)

Second funny thing, you learn to get immune to that kind of thing fairly quickly. Come to think of it, it's sorta like being immune to your parents' yelling growing up, too. Guess I learned that by kindergarten as well.

Now to figure out how to get my clients to pay for this mind-warping experience.....

Catching up

Wow...September rolled through, and so did October, and not a single post. Started this blog with the idea that I'd pop on here every couple of days and update, and as usual, the best intentions....

Volleyball season came and went--volleyball banquet was today. We had a good group of 4th grade girls, good parents, and I had help during practice from a high school volleyball player, all of which contributed to a successful season. We didn't place in the top three, but our Athletic Director told us that we finished higher than any other team in our league that had not played before, as the top 3 teams all played the season before. That was good for the girls to hear.

With one season ending, another begins...we had our basketball "draft" tonight. I am again roped into coaching my son's 2nd grade basketball team, and this year, there are enough players to field two teams.

We sat down and "graded" players as if we were holding the NBA Draft, and basically, I kept the same team I had last year. We graded my team with 3 "A" players, 1 "B" player, and 6 "C" players, and the other team with 3 "A" players, 2 "B" players, 1 "C" player, and 3 unknowns. So it's pretty close to as fair as you get.

What else has happened? Bought a car from eBay Motors early in the Summer, and after weeks of wrangling with a crook in New Jersey, it finally appeared in Birmingham needing work, as expected. Fortunately, the eBay Auction insurance company paid for the work it needed, and it appears I will come out of the transaction fairly well....other than I still do not have the car, as it has been sitting at my auto mechanic for weeks now as well. He's been "tinkering" with it. I don't want to push him too much--I bought the extra car so my daughter, who was home from the University of Alabama for the summer, would have one to go to/from work and other events. So when she returned, there existed no further urgency, and I have allowed him to take his time working on this or that with the car. It's a 2000 Volvo C70, and will be my first two-door car in many years. It's not perfect, but it'll do for me to drive around town. And with the economy where it is, I'm not inclined to spend much money--if I had it--on any car at the moment.

We are one week removed from the opening and closing of "Once Upon an Island, Jr.," performed by the Our Lady of the Valley School Drama Department. From Caitlin's performance in the 4th grade (10 years ago, if I count correctly) in Oklahoma!, to now, oh my, what a difference!. Director Mike Bridges brought a lot of wonderful theatrical enthusiasm to the little school, and it has given all of my children great self-confidence to speak in front of others, and be self-assured. Caitlin has been in many, many productions, including many community theatre productions, mostly small ensemble parts, but always doing her best. She does not fear anything, and I credit the beginnings at OLV with her gaining self-confidence, and her being cast in many CenterStage productions with her realizing the pursuit of excellence and allowing it to carry over into her personal and academic life, both of which she's championing right now.

My middle daughter, Sarah, who played the lead role of Cinderella in her 7th grade year, was wonderful in that show and, although she never "caught the bug" the way Caitlin did, has excelled with school, personal life, and in show choirs for her high school. Cinderella was the last show she auditioned for, and decided it would be her "Swan Song." It was the only show she did at OLV in which she had lines. Talk about a grand entrance and exit!

My son, Andrew, had numerous fun roles at OLV in the various shows, including Tevya in Fiddler on the Roof, the cheerleader in Cheaper by the Dozen, the undertaker in Oliver! and many others. He doesn't think anything of getting up in front of large or small groups now and giving speeches or organizing friends, and again, that is a credit.

So now it's my youngest daughter Rachel. Rachel had a role created for the show by Mike as one of Daniel's young friends. She had a lot of stage time, and she cherished the small solo she sung during the show. Sitting at the very back of the "Life Center"--the Gym, or the modified theatre--doing video work for the performance, I heard her loudly and clearly with her sweet voice. Can I imagine being nine years old and singing in front of several hundred people on stage under the spotlight? Not on your life--but this is just one of the things that literally hundreds of OLV children have gained from their experienced in OLV theatrical productions over the years. Caitlin, Andrew, Sarah and Rachel are no different than many others who will carry these benefits throughout life.

The show itself was wonderful. From an audience standpoint, the production was nearly flawless. Minor technical issues with sound/microphone, which seem to always exist in even quality local theatre, were ironed out by Saturday. I finished watching the show earlier this afternoon on a rough DVD I created from the back of the gym, and the sound was very good, with or without characters who wore body microphones.

As far as the young men and women are concerned--the school is a "regular" school, and the talent is always mixed. But they maximize their talent, and again--from a regular audience member standpoint, I do not recall seeing one word of one line missed, or fed, to any cast member during the show. Considering the cast consisted of more than 90 students from 1st through 8th grade, that's an amazing feat in itself.

It's late, and I have court in the morning, so I'll close for tonight with a promise to fill in more later. If I can have 30,000+ posts on KentuckySportsReport.com, the least I can do is to have some regular old blogging about my life. I promise to make the posts more regular--and more concise--in the days and weeks to come.

Politically speaking, what's in a name?

Having some difficulty absorbing friends at the sports message board with their political thoughts and ideals. Most see things in black or white, with little gray.

Have erased much of what I posted--have learned that sometimes it's just better to discuss sports with sports friends, and politics with political friends, and never the twain shall meet.

Of course, it's good when they all mix perfectly, but not necessary for it all the time.

Glad President Obama will be occupying the White House next year. Actually glad that George Bush won't, as much as anything--John McCain would've been an improvement as well. I do look forward to some judicial appointments being made by Democrats in power, as the vast majority through the federal judiciary were Republican appointees, and some balance would be nice. And as Forrest Gump might say, "That's all I have to say about that."

Time keeps on slipping, slipping, slipping...into the future

So I'm wondering when this post will be dated--it's 11:52 p.m. on Thursday night, local (Central) time, but by the time I finish, it will probably be midnight Friday morning. When I saw the time I thought I needed to get to bed, but really wanted to wind down a little first by making a post, and this title came to mind.

It also came to mind for another reason--no, not that melancholy feeling I had when dropping off my oldest at college Sunday--this one was because my 16-year old daughter was telling me some of the songs they will be performing this year in her women's show choir group, "Chanter,' and her mixed show choir group, "Con Brio." I always enjoy them because they bring back memories. And my daughter is always a little bewildered that dear old Dad actually knows any of the songs, failing to realize that these "new" songs to her are old classics to me.

Songs like....

"Proud Mary," the Tina Turner classic.
"Freeze Frame," by the J. Geils Band. She told me "Freeze Frame," and I immediately said "J. Geils Band," and she looked at me like I had two heads.
"September," by Earth, Wind & Fire.

See why I started thinking about time keeps on slipping, slipping, slipping....into the future?

They weren't all old classics. "Feel like a woman," by Shania Twain, was one that's a little more "up to date." The opening song to "Little Shop of Horrors" was another one.

And for the life of me, I can't remember the 6th song she told me. They traditionally perform 4-5 songs for each group, so there will be 8-10 songs total, but I think they had 6 locked down.

It's been a tough week of work. Working for myself has some advantages, and some disadvantages. It seems when things happen, they sort of all pour in at once. And you have to address them, because you never know when they will stop again. And that dreaded asking clients to pay you bit gets old, of course.

But it allowed me to easily take Collin to Cub Scouts at 4:00 in the afternoon earlier this week, take Andrew to a podiatrist appointment (and pick him up at school at 3:00), and attend Collin's first soccer practice of the year at 5:30. So it's all good in the end.

Having dinner tomorrow night with a friend's wife, parents, and their son who will be attending college in Birmingham. My friend and I played on my high school golf team together in Louisiana, and after attending college at LSU and working in Texas for awhile, he allowed his company to relocate him to Jakarta, Indonesia, where he has lived for 15 years or more. So it's funny how life runs full circle, with his son now moving from Jakarta to attend school in the same town I live in.

I'm sure they will be thrilled to hear about the five people killed in an apartment complex about five miles from where we live. Oh, did I leave that gruesome discovery out? It's too late--now Friday, so I'll have to save that for another day.

Back to college.....

I headed back to college yesterday, and moved in a dorm.

No, I'm not having a mid-life crisis and returning to school. Caitlin, my 19-year old, is beginning her sophomore year at Alabama. So Mom and I moved her in yesterday.

It's always fun to see young men and women enjoying the best years of their lives. We rode up on an elevator with two frat boys who had obviously been...."enjoying" themselves a little. Since there were, at that time, four parents on the elevator, they were doing their best to seem "normal," and avoided breathing, or any other bodily expulsions, in our general direction, to quote Spamalot. The other Dad turned to me and said, "It looks like they've been to the Library."

To their credit, the young men were perfectly polite, and smiled hearing that, knowing that we knew their "secret."

Ahh, such was the times.

College for Caitlin is in Tuscaloosa, just an hour away from home. It's always a bit of a melancholy time for me when we move her in, knowing that it's part of life, growing up, and moving away--albeit, not really moving very far, and only temporary--for now. I enjoy moving her--one of the few times "Dad" can be of real assistance, hauling things, parallel parking to get a better angle for unloading, hooking up the computer to the internet, the cable to the TV, etc. And with a family of five, it's not often that Mom and I get to spend much time with her alone. So the drive, the unloading, and the helping to "fix up" her room are kinda precious, when you think of it that way.

And then there were four.

It was a good summer having Caitlin home, but now we're down to four. With Sarah and Andrew doing more and more things with their friends in their "free" time, we're quickly becoming a more "normal" sized family of two children.

I won't know what to do. Maybe I'll take up a hobby with my free time.

You gotta have a first time for there to be a second time

And that's not some underhanded, behind the scenes titillation, just an acknowledgment that teaching 3rd and 4th grade girls a brand new sport is difficult the first day, and will (hopefully) be easier the second day.

Had 10 girls show up today (have 13 on the team). After I explained that I was on the 1980 U.S. Olympic volleyball team, and would have them all bump, setting and spiking by midseason, I told them the truth--we're there just to learn the game, have fun and enjoy ourselves. And I never played (or coached) volleyball.

Some highlights of the practice.

We played "dead fish." "I like to play dead," one of my players told me. Based on how they all moved to the ball when it was hit over the net, I think they all enjoyed doing that.

Second highlight of the practice? Water break. For some reason, they can be dead tired from doing drills, but announce water break and you have 10 kids shrieking, yelling, cheering--and running--to the water fountain, or to their water bottles.

It's indoor volleyball, in an air-conditioned gym. We have two water breaks per practice. What happened to football practice, two-a-days, in the middle of the summer, with no water til you were done?

I know, I'm showing my age. I feel it most days, too.

Watching your mother-in-law drive off a cliff

in your new Mercedes, so goes the old joke, is an example of "mixed emotions."

Had a client call me today--"we need your help," she said. "You were right, we shouldn't have done business with them without putting it in writing."

Sigh.

I've only done this for 20-something years, and although there *are* new things under the sun, a) there aren't that many of them, and b) the old things under the sun still surface more than the new ones.

The mixed emotions are that it does give me more legal work to do. That's generally a good thing, although (again), I hate it when a client ignores the advice you give and gets in trouble.

Interestingly enough, I believe lawyers get a bad rap for their integrity, but (so far), I'm a bit perturbed at the lawyer who wrote my clients a letter. Wrote it two days ago, and said that they had 10 days to pay for something (that my client did not receive, but that's another matter), or else they would consider their legal options, including possibly suing them.

So two days goes by--literally, from the DATE of the letter, just the day after receipt of it--and wham, they get notice that they have been sued by this company. So they said "10 days," and sued in 2.

Haven't spoken to that lawyer yet, but I am interested in finding out why the misrepresentation. Could be for a good reason. I'll see.

So much for business.

Tomorrow begins my journey as a volleyball coach. I received a bag of seven volleyballs today, and was told that the net needed to be lowered to 6'6 (down 10 inches from regulation height) for the little ones I coach.

Other than that, I'm on my own. A friend's daughter, who is a junior in high school on her high school's volleyball team, has volunteered to come help me after her practice, so she could be a big help.

We hope.

For most of the girls, it is their first time to play any real sports, and for all of the girls (even the 4th graders), it is the first time they have ever played volleyball.

On a separate note, I took Collin (my 7-year old) to his first Cub Scout meeting of the year today. While there, the Den Leader turned to the parents who were in attendance, and solicited an Assistant Den Leader.

The silence was deafening.

No, I didn't step forward to do that. But I didn't say "no," either. Glad there wasn't a specific question asked of me to force that decision-making process.

More tomorrow.

Inaugural address

Wow--what the heck am I doing? Satisfying the insatiable desire to write, chat, talk, I suppose, even without time to do it. So I'll "make time."

That seems to be my motto--if there's not enough time, just make some more. As if there is a "Kraft Macaroni and Cheese" instant box type concoction that could do this; how ridiculous, of course.

So why the title?

Well, as the father of five active children, ages seven to 19, you might think that's enough. And it is. But to that I have a full-time law practice that keeps me busy. "Full-time," I said. And I am a publisher of a sports magazine, Kentucky Sports Report, with daily web duties as well. And if that's not enough, I enjoy teaching--have taught at Birmingham School of Law for twelve years, and have been an adjunct professor in the Paralegal and Accounting programs at Virginia College for five years.

So my time is full, right?

Nah. You can always add a few more grains of sand to your cup.

Last fall I had decided enough was enough--no more "volunteering" for me. I had coached my kids in basketball for about ten years, serve on the school's PTO Board (Chairman of Publicity), perform publicity for school and community plays, do the photography and the videography. So no more.

Ha!

"Darrell," the school's Athletic Director called out to me with the plea of a man needing a big favor. "I need a coach."

My son's first grade basketball team.

"John, I can't do it. I teach three nights a week already."

So that's how I became the head coach of the first grade basketball team.

I picked up my son from basketball camp last week. While there, the same A.D. called out to me, "Darrell....." (I knew how the rest would fit).

"No, John. I can't do it." It was a feeble attempt. I know how the script goes, and there's no ad-libbing permitted.

"Darrell, we need a volleyball coach for the 3rd/4th grade girls."

So that's how I became the head coach of the volleyball team. Of course, it includes my 9-year old daughter, Rachel. She's "excited"--I think--that I will be her coach. She told me I could not call her by any of the "pet" names I call her at home while I am in practice. "Dad, you'll embarrass me," she said. She's probably right.

First practice is Friday afternoon/evening. I have two full days to learn how to coach volleyball. Wish me luck.