"Oh Boy"

(This blog entry is rated PG due to bathroom humor and use of the word "penis")

So last night I had bathroom duty (take note of the spelling: "duty," not "doody") at Farm Fresh. The cleaning part was not that bad considering the fact that a couple of times I had to clean bathrooms when I worked at the amphitheater (at any concert or entertainment venue, I'm pretty sure that the only bathroom etiquette that people observe is that whatever you do in the bathroom should at least stay in the stall itself). The only uncomfortable moment of the night occurred when some old guy came into the bathroom while I was cleaning. I didn't have a problem with this guy using the restroom while I was in there, but I was a little confused by what he said as he stepped up to the urinal: "Oh boy." Oh boy? Even after he left I couldn't wrap my mind around what he meant. Was it an excitedly anxious "oh boy" as in, "I can't wait to pee!"? Was it a nervously anxious "oh boy" as in, "Here we go again..."? Or was it an sarcastically anxious "oh boy" as in... well, you all know what sarcasm is. I realized that any way he meant it could not have been good. Think about it, if he was being sarcastic that means that he hates to pee. What's so bad about peeing, old man? If he was nervous, then that suggests he has some sort of a health problem associated with peeing. I don't want to get into the specifics, but clearly that's not a good thing. And finally, if he was excited, then, well, that pretty much speaks for itself.

The moral of the story is: don't make small talk with strangers in the bathroom (or at least, don't make small talk with me). I enjoy small talk with strangers as much as the next guy, but the game changes when you add the twist that we are both holding our penises (or peni, if you prefer the Latin). If I'm going to be talking to strangers while holding my penis, it better be a conversation that I'm paying for by the minute. (Thank you, folks, I'll be at the "Funny Bone" in Virginia Beach all week)

Me and My Politically-charged Questions

In case you haven't noticed, I don't like the idea of people getting on a soapbox, be it a cardboard soapbox or internet soapbox (or a soapbox actually made out of soap, for that matter), and speaking their mind on politics as if they know everything and those who are in opposition to them know nothing. Currently, this is the basis for political discourse in our country. If you watch or listen to any political program today, the scenario is almost always the same: two or more individuals who fall on opposite sides of a conflict are brought on to discuss said conflict; each side proceeds to blindly argue his/her point; the volume of the speakers' voices gradually builds; the person who is yelling the loudest by the end of the show wins the debate. The Presidential "Debates" are the worst example of our problem with political discourse. In the Presidential Debates, they actually have rules stating that the candidates are not allowed to look at each other let alone interact with each other. Very little is actually debated in our country because people essentially say, "This is what I believe, and no matter how much sense your argument makes I won't change my point of view." This was Jon Stewart's basic point when he argued with Tucker Carlson and Paul Begala on CNN's "Crossfire." "Crossfire" is a show that basically brags about being ignorant, as they guarantee with every episode that they will find a way to take an issue and spin it to support both Republican and Democratic opinions. How does this help resolve the issue? I personally prefer to engage people with whom I disagree by asking them questions about why they feel a particular way about something (not in a Middle School gay guidance counselor sort of way but rather in a fundamental political belief sort of way). Believe it or not, this long explanation is just a build-up for what I originally wanted to talk about.

So, let me start by saying that I support someone's right to bear the Confederate flag. In my opinion, you can disagree with what the flag stands for (i.e., I support the right to do the action, not the action itself), but as long as you can prove that the bearer isn't using the flag to intimidate others, then you have to respect their freedom of speech.

However, I do have a question for those who bear the Confederate flag: why? Why bear the flag? I understand that there is this notion of pride; in the sense that you are proud of the time that your territory rebelled and almost succeeded in gaining its independence from the United States of America. Yet, how can you symbolize this event on one hand, while saying that you are "proud to be an American" on the other hand? I guess I feel that this is contradictory because the Civil War was a time when the south tried to leave the union known as America. If a territory in the United States today were to suddenly decide that it wished to secede from the nation, would we not declare the people of this particular territory to be completely unpatriotic? In my opinion, the Confederate flag represents the ultimate example of shame in being an American. Someone please help me understand.

My Day(s) in Court

Fridays are "motion days" in the Circuit Court, meaning that attorneys come in and enter motions, such as a motion for a continuance, for whatever cases on which they are working. Essentially, nothing important happens on motion days, which is why my supervisors allow me to serve as the clerk by myself on Fridays. As I sat in court this most recent motion day appearing to be intently working on the computer while in actuality I was playing minesweeper, I had a sudden revelation: "Hey, court is pretty boring." Don't get my wrong, I'm not saying that days like these aren't exciting for the judges and attorneys and, in general, people who are involved in the outcome of the cases. I'm just saying that now I understand why during a particularly long motion in a divorce case I watched a 6'6'', 250 lb. Bailiff read an issue of "Oprah" magazine (twice) just to shed a glimmer of excitement into the great netherworld of boredom into which he had unexpectedly wandered. Needless to say, I have found subtle ways (other than minesweeper) to amuse myself in court. Behold:

1) Apparently, the phrase "so help you God" at the end of most courtroom oaths is optional. So, I like to keep witnesses and court reporters on their toes. Sometimes I swear them in and say the phrase. Sometimes I leave it out. Sometimes I pause after "the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth" and then slip a "so help help you God" right in there when they're least expecting it. Let me tell you, the look on their face when I slap them upside the head with a "so help you God": priceless. *(in this case, 'priceless' actually means 'disinterested' or 'apathetic')

2) I even have a favorite motion. My favorite motion is the motion to quash. I don't actually know what a motion to quash is, but it sounds funny. I think that's because the phonetics are so similar to "squash" which is a funny word already, but it also ushers in humorous connotations (god damn, that sounded hella pretentious). When a lawyer requests a motion to quash, I often picture the judge pulling out a large foam hand or a big mallet, slamming it down on the bench, and saying something to the effect of "This subpoena has officially been quashed!" This image makes court proceedings seem more like a professional wrestling match or a Gallagher concert (neither of which are particularly interesting events to me, but my feelings might change if one of these events was to show up randomly in a fiduciary hearing).

3) Occasionally, a case will have a funny name which is entertaining as is. For example, one divorce-related hearing that I'll always remember was Ugbo v. Ugbo (There was great unrest in the Ugbo household, and what seemed like a match made in Ugbo heaven sadly came crashing down). Muller v. Butt was a pretty good one as well. However, when funny names are lacking, it helps to put a Sherlock-Holmes-esque tagline to make a case seem more exciting than it is. For example, Dillenbeck v. Dillenbeck doesn't sound great, but how about Dillenbeck v. Dillenbeck: The Case of the Missing Child Support. What about Jard v. White: The Negligent UPS Driver. Or, Rodriguez v. Rodriguez: The Speckled Band... oh wait, that last one really was a Sherlock Holmes story.

Well, that's pretty much all of the court entertainment that I have come up with as of now. I don't know how to end this unnecessarily long post, so I'll simple finish on a high note: Ugbo.

Legitimate Questions

So, if Karl Rove truly didn't realize that he was giving away the name of an undercover CIA operative, why didn't he come forward two years ago when the story first broke and explain that it was an accident? If anyone has an answer, I would genuinely like to know.

[By the way, don't worry, I don't plan on using this blog as an impersonal way to air my political grievances without having to answer anyone face-to-face]

On a more serious note, I would like to say that I admire the staying power of the "Now That's What I Call Music" album series. They are up to #19. How is this possible? Every album is composed entirely of the most downloaded songs at any given time. They must have a very devoted and law-abiding following. Sort of like the Hitler Youth of popular music.

My First Post

This is my first blog entry. There will be more later.