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.