Coffee and Clark Gable

"Hey, office manager, when you order supplies next, can you get a quart of vinegar?"

"Vinegar? Why?"

"Because the coffee tastes horrible. I want to clean the coffee maker."

"We used to do that!"

"You stopped?"

"Well, no one wanted to do it."

"Okay. I want to do it. I drink that coffee and it tastes like there's years' worth of oils built up in there."

"Yes, and that vinegar cleans it right out! We should really do that more often."

"You get the vinegar, I'll do the cleaning."

"Oh, and, don't clean out the partner's coffee maker. He's like Clark Gable."

"Um... Clark Gable?"

"Oh my, yes."

"I... I don't understand."

"Clark Gable was in that movie where he got very upset at his lady friend for cleaning out his coffee maker, because he liked all the residue. He said he got it to taste just right."

"Ohhh-kay. So, anyway, how about that vinegar?"

They're Both Right

On NPR this morning, I heard a report that this year's federal budget deficit came in about $100 billion less than originally projected. President Bush is proclaiming victory and progress in his promise to cut the deficit in half by the end of his term. Democrats are accusing Bush of using smoke and mirrors to hide massive fiscal irresponsibility.

They're both right. It's great that we're not going into debt as fast as we had feared and we should be happy that the deficit is less than it had been projected. And it's also unacceptable that a wealthy, powerful nation like ours is deficit spending at all.

Bush's long-term plan to cut the deficit to $150 billion annually in fiscal 2008 is not a sufficiently ambitious one.

Funeral Politics

Thinking about the funeral today made me realize that my post yesterday reads as a bit morose; I was trying for a more philosophical tone. While it's true that I find myself in a place and a situation I had never really planned for, the fact of the matter is that I've a lot to be happy about. Such dissatisfaction as I feel is primarily focused on large issues of money and finance, and this is only a relatively small piece of the puzzle of happiness.

In virtually every other area of life, I've got few worries. I've got an interesting, challenging job doing something I enjoy. It pays enough to support our lifestyle, and soon enough The Wife will have a job (with some luck) and we can use her earnings to save up to buy a house in a year or so. I've got a good education, I'm smart, I have hobbies I like. I've got some good critters and a nice place to live. I'm blessed with a supportive, loving family, and many good friends. I'm healthy and alive. Most of all, I have a wonderful wife who is my best friend and an ideal life companion. And there is no reason that long-term, larger-scale wealth cannot come in the future.

And my friend Nancy Spungen is right about quite a few things in her comments: a) women don't really like Pink Floyd all that much and growing up I wasn't a cool kid in part because I didn't have much access to hip contemporary music; b) the major career choices I've made were, especially viewed in context, about as good as could have been made; and c) different choices could easily have resulted in a much worse situation than I am currently in, due largely to factors beyond my control.

So mine has been a mixed bag of some good and some lukewarm results in life. But the question remains -- to what extent am I here due to good choices I have made and to what extent am I here due to forces beyond my control? The more I think about it, the more I'm coming to believe that I have a lot less ability to influence my path in life than I would like to believe.

The Crazy Diamond Shines No More

Like a lot of men my age, I've always liked Pink Floyd. I like the psychedelic tone, the bizarre lyrics sometimes revealing deep meaning or tortured insights into the human condition, as well as the melodious, varied textures of the music. Most of the music's appeal comes from late addition and now lead man David Gilmour. But the tortured, deep lyrics (as well as a lot of the nonsensical ones) came from Syd Barrett. And Syd Barrett died recently. This got me thinking some morbid thoughts, motivated in part by having a funeral to attend tomorrow.

Syd Barrett was the epitome of the artist tortured by unseen demons who did not have to be there. Pink Floyd at its peak was a popular, profitable, and critically-acclaimed band. After its first few big hits, it was clearly destined for its place in the pantheon of pop music -- maybe not as big as the Beatles or the Rolling Stones, but on the same scale as its contemporaries the Who or Led Zeppelin. Yet Barrett simply could not handle all the success. He withdrew from the limelight, eschewed the rock-n-roll lifestyle, did lots of drugs, and engaged in a wide variety of bizarre, self-indulgent behavior like shaving off his eyebrows. (This, in turn, inspired one of the more visually arresting images from Pink Floyd's The Wall.)

One of the attorneys at the firm mentioned this problem a few days ago: "How much success can you handle? When you have too much, you'll start destroying yourself so you don't have it anymore." The Wife also mentioned recently that a lot of people don't want to have money and success, and that they do things to prevent themselves from having that kind of life. Syd Barrett was obviously like that. I don't know if that's a Freudian way of looking at the human psyche or a Jungian one -- but it is a school of thought so pervasive as to constitute the conventional wisdom.

This got me thinking about myself -- I've tried to have success in my life, but I don't seem to have it yet. In the context of my own career, I'm no Syd Barrett, but then again, I haven't exactly become David Gilmour, either. I've not done badly, but I've had some big stumbles, too. I don't begrudge any of my peers their success, but it feels like a lot of success has passed me by. I could have bought real estate a long time ago and rode the bubble up to present-day market values; that opportunity has passed me by because I made different choices. Many of my professional ventures didn't work out as well as I would have liked, like starting my own firm and relocating to a more affordable part of the country.

Don't get me wrong, Loyal Readers. I've much to be grateful for and I know it. Like I said, I'm not a Syd Barrett, turning into a recluse in the face of plenty. But if it's true that people create their own realities, if it's true that we all eventually become what we want to be, then am I now what it is that I unconsciously wish to be? That is an uncomfortable thought and it feels sort of defeatist. Why haven't my previous paths led me to the places I consciously wanted to go? What will happen with the new path I'm on now? I want to do more than tread water the rest of my professional life. At least, I think that's what I want.

The cruel twist on the Protestant work ethic that "some people just don't want success so they sabotage themselves" is so pervasive in contemporary thought that people react emotionally when that notion is questioned. I wonder, though. Maybe people think this about the world because the idea that success and failure is really just random, or powered by forces so large and chaotic that they may as well be random, is too unacceptably terrifying to contemplate seriously. Maybe Syd Barrett came to the conclusion that it really was all chance and chaos instead of choice and creation, and rather than risk a catastrophic fall through the vicissitudes of random happenstance, he chose to opt out and at least keep some measure of self-control over his own fate.

We'll never know now, other than what clues we can glean from the oft-confusing lyrics to the music he wrote in the sixties and seventies. I'm not a believer in the afterlife and I don't think if there was one, Syd Barrett would be in a happier place. Rather, I think we can ask ourselves whether he wound up the way he did because of chance or choice. The question has real implications, most of them unpleasant.

If you are successful because of choices you have made, then how do you know if you're going to reach a point where, like Syd Barrett, you suffer from an irresistible impulse to destroy everything you've created? If you are unsuccessful because of choices you have made, particularly at an unconscious level, what can you possibly do to change those choices in the future? And if your success or lack thereof is the result of factors beyond your control which are effectively random, what can you really do to change, control, or even guide your fate?

What's important here is to come up with the honest answer, and not the one that simply feels good.

Pulling Rank

I don't usually "pull rank" at court. But today I did. The line was out the door and wrapped around the outside of the parking lot when I got to court this morning. So I took advantage of the sign on the wall that said "Attorneys may proceed to the front of the weapons screening line upon showing their bar cards."

Normally, my attitude is that I'm no better than any of the other people with business at court and I should stand in line with the rest of them. And when the line takes ten minutes or so, I do. When I have a chance of being seen by a juror, I do.

Today, though, I was suffering the echoes of a migraine that I had medicated away with near-constant aspirin use -- one full gram every six hours -- and sheer willpower to make it through a day. And I was in no mood to wait an hour to verify that I didn't have any weapons. So I cut in line, flashed my bar card, and proved that I had no weapons. The deputies took one look at me, determined I was harmless, and let me through despite my tie-tack that set off the metal detector.

Migraines can really knock someone down and out. Yesterday, I couldn't take time out to let it hit me, and so I did what I could to suppress it. When I get the migraine, the headache pain can be quite intense. It localizes in the frontal lobes of my head and sinuses. Even under a lot of aspirin, it still hurt to lean forward, bend over, or turn my head suddenly. I fatigue easily, and I feel the pain circling around my skull like a circlet. If I let it go, I get nauseous, dizzy, and I lose the ability to tolerate bright lights and loud noises. When the migraine hits, it echoes for days afterwards. I've found with huge doses of aspirin, I can dull the pain enough to function -- if I catch it early enough.

So when I had the echoes going this morning, that was it. I put aside my small-"d" democratic tendency, pulled rank, got into the courthouse, and found myself a quiet part of the hallway to sit and read my papers. Fortunately, I didn't have to wait too long before my case was called and I could go back to my relatively quiet office. Tonight, I'm going to try and get a nice full night of sleep so that I can recuperate some more and hopefully deal with my full court calendar tomorrow morning.

...And hopefully avoid making more scatalogical jokes about Congress.

I would suggest prunes, leafy vegetables, and higher fiber generally

Read the headline first.

Movie Review: Pirates of the Caribbean 2

Yes, The Wife and I were part of a record-breaking Hollywood weekend. Like so many other movie-goers, we went to see Pirates of the Caribbean 2: Dead Man's Chest this weekend. We went because we liked the first one, because I like movies with lots of action, and The Wife thinks that Johnny Depp and Orlando Bloom are the two sexiest men in Hollywood and having them together in one movie is irresistible.

The movie itself is not a deep meditation on the subtle complexities of the human soul and its eternal struggle with the competing demands of morality and survival. No, not so much. It's pretty much a pirate movie with some silly supernatural villians and sea monsters thrown into the mix. There are some nice touches, though: the good guys are really good, the bad guys are really bad, and the movie pays nice homage to all sorts of classic adventure movies, particularly pirate movies, from the Golden Age of Hollywood.

True to the the spirit of Captain Blood, our heroes fight, and deceive, and fight, and double-cross, and fight some more, in a variety of gorgeous sets and locations, with thrilling choreography and action. The banter is silly but not quite over the top; Johnny Depp's Jack Sparrow remains one of the most interesting characters yet devised in that actor's remarkable career, and as far as I am concerned, the movie more than delivers on its promises of good action, family-friendly but winking-at-the-adults comedy, and slick, high-production-value entertainment. Its cliffhanger ending, while somewhat predictible, nicely sets up the stage for what is sure to be next year's big summer hit, Pirates of the Caribbean 3: At World's End.

The Wife seemed disappointed, though, and I can't figure out why. There was ship-to-ship combat, swordplay, plenty of shots of her handsome favorites, resolute and clever trickery from the winsome Kiera Knightley, magic, double-crosses -- everything you wanted in this movie. I was certainly happy with it; while its screenwriter may not be winning any Oscars for this effort, the movie overall was worth the price of admission.

Vittoria!

It took a heart-stopping first half, recovering from the first hostile goal scored on Gianluigi Buffon in the entire tournament, a well-deserved red card on France's come-out-of-retirement superstar for a mean-spirited head-butt to the chest, and a flawless performance on penalty kicks. But Forza Italia emerged triumphant -- the winners of the 2006 World Cup. The score reads 1:1 (5:3) but there's a lot more to the story than the score.

This is Italy's fourth World Cup (Brazil, with five, is the only country to have won more) in six appearances in the final and it's a big triumph after all the competition along the way. The Brazilians looked scary, and there's the old saying that what we Americans call soccer "is a simple game with 22 players who chase a ball for 90 minutes and in the end the Germans win." But I've been pulling for the Azzurri ever since my own country got knocked out of the tournament.

There will not be a sporting event of this magnitude on Earth again until South Africa 2010. Now, it's time for me to start thinking about American football.

Change of Command

Today The Wife and I took a trip to Azusa to witness a change of command ceremony for the California Army National Guard. My friend, and former law partner, was recently promoted to Lieutenant Colonel in the Guard and today was his ceremony to take command of a cavalry battalion. For those of you Loyal Readers unfamiliar with how the military is organized, this is a very big deal and a sign of great success for my friend in his military career. A big enough deal that I gladly (although I admit not without some regret) dropped watching the World Cup final match at halftime so we could go and be on time.

The ceremony took place at a brand-new Guard facility; we were told that it had just opened three weeks ago and the battalion had just moved in. We got the VIP treatment -- a soldier ran over to a parking spot reserved for us, and opened the car door for The Wife; another soldier escorted us into the building and guided us into the VIP room for civilians and retired military personnel. The city's mayor spoke, the general in charge of the division which this battalion is organized spoke. Then the colonel in charge of the brigade spoke, then the outgoing battalion commander spoke, and then my friend spoke.

I was a bit disturbed by some of the general's remarks -- many members of the battalion had recently returned from a long deployment at Guantanamo Bay where they were part of the prison security for the foreign combatant detainees (who, we now know, cannot be detained by executive fiat alone). That the general praised the troops for their good work, for the lack of glamour associated with the work, and the vital need of the work as part of the nation's overall military strategy, was all appropriate and good. What bothered me was when the general referred to the prisoners as "savage dogs and wild animals." These are people -- dangerous people, people who mean to do our country harm, our enemies, whom we should keep careful control over. But they are still people. Dehumanizing them does not enable us to understand them better, and to defeat them we must understand them. Dehumanizing them also excuses us from treating them like human beings. To acknowledge the humanity of our enemies forces certain moral imperatives on us with regards to how we behave towards them, particularly when they are our captives. That our enemies feel no moral scruples about their behavior towards us is irrelevant. We should welcome our moral imperatives and obey them scrupulously, because they make us better than our enemies.

But I digress. A lot of our old friends were there, both military and civilian. It was good to catch up with so many of them. Hopefully we can get together more frequently, and for more happy occasions like this, in the future. And I'm very, very pleased for our friend and the significant success he has just realized for his military career. I wish him all the best for the future.

Public Park Proves Public-Parochial Premium Problem Pervasive

This is kinda B.S. It's the kind of B.S. that I would have expected to have found back in Tennessee.

I've got nothing against parochial schools -- I went to a parochial high school and I'm grateful for the good education I got there. But private schools need to pay for things privately. When the public gets involved, things get ookey. ("Ookey," by the way, is a Constitutional law phrase with a rather precise meaning. That's why I went to law school.) If these schools wanted to buy the land and develop it for their mutual use, that would have been OK with me.

Particularly amusing in the article is the way the city attorney tap-dances around the issue of why, exactly, the city is paying five million dollars for a "public" park that will have more than half of its overall territory, and the bulk of its usable facilities, fenced off from the public for the exclusive use of two parochial schools.

I think I'm going to join Americans United for Separation of Church and State.

Six Years Ago, in El Norte

The 2006 Mexican election was decided by a margin of less than 100,000 votes, and the proclaimed "liberal" winner is contesting the results in a legal challenge. Huge rallies are taking place by supporters of the loser and counter-protests for the winner are sure to follow. This all sounds very familiar to us norteños. We solved it; our Mexican friends will, too. What's important is that Mexico adheres to the rule of law and principles of democracy and avoids the lure of corruption. Good luck, amigos.

Truth from the Los Angeles Fish Wrapper

The headline to the linked article says it all. It makes me feel a little bit better to see that a great many other people -- particularly well-educated ones -- are making the same choices that The Wife and I are. Although the article references German people (thus the picture of a classicly sexy German), there are plenty of other people out there, some with admittedly sophomoric looking websites and some with somewhat greater sarcasm than I care to apply to this subject, who feel the way we do. See, it's not just us.

Rhythm of the Lawyer's Day

I'm not complaining that I'm busy at work. I like having a full docket and a lot of things to do. I like the work I'm doing. But it's amazing how, like my last three legal jobs, all the work seems to stack up towards the end of the day. It's usually pretty slow in the mornings, unless I'm in court. Gradually, the pace picks up as phone calls get returned and work gets completed and sent to other people and returned to me. Finally, at some point I'm handling five or six cases at once, each with a different person and each with a problem that they think (sometimes correctly) requires immediate attention.

This keeps up until five o'clock, when people go home and the work comes to a deflating stop. Sometimes, when there's a lull in the madness, I'm tempted to just sit and wait for the next shoe to drop rather than start a new project, and whether I do or not, I'm never disappointed. The rhythm of my typical work day is like Ravel's Bolero -- things get faster and more intense as they proceed until finally everything comes crashing to a sudden, cacophonous stop at the end.

Is it just me? Is this something that I'm doing with the way I manage my work day? Or are your days at work like this too, Loyal Readers?

Date Night In Palmdale

Tonight, we looked at our finances and found a little money to spare. So it was date night. The Wife likes sushi, so we tried a sushi place in Palmdale. The service was not so good and the sushi, while fresh, had been allowed to warm up somewhat. Sushi should be served chilled to maximize the taste. But, there was toro nigri and unagi, so I was satisfied.

After that, talk about a good time I like to show my wife, I tell ya, we went to Costco. We got industrial quantities of things like string cheese, those yummy sweet-n-salty peanut bars, Bernstein's Restaurant Recipe Italian salad dressing (the salad dressing worth a cross-continental trip for), contact lens solution, and frozen shrimp.

Do I know how to show a girl a good time or what?

Unpleasant Symbolism

The photograph to the right is copyrighted by the New York Times (and reprinted here under a claim of fair use). And the inherent contradiction it represents makes my blood boil. Not just for me as an atheist; how would a Jew or a Hindu or a Buddhist feel about this? I imagine they would be somewhat taken aback to see Lady Liberty holding the Decalogue, with the word "Jehovah" written across her crown, and swapping her torch for a crucifix.

There's a lot of ideological claptrap going on out there that this is somehow a "Christian nation." That's just wrong -- it is a nation in which Christianity is the dominant religion. Not the same thing. Some of the Founders were Christians. Most were not. Some were outright atheists; others were deists who believed in a passive creator; others half-heartedly went through the motions of various kinds of Protestant Christianity to maintain a public appearance of moral virtue. Very few were fervent in their religious beliefs. Even the very religious John Adams wrote that America was in no way founded upon the Christian religion.

We are not, and never have been, the Christian States of America. We have a secular government and the secular nature of our government has served us very well throughout our history. But there are a tremendous number of people who want to blur, obscure, and ultimately destroy the separation of government and religion -- specifically Christianity. Religious government has worked well in how many other nations around the world? Iran? Afghanistan under the Taliban? Medieval Europe?

As I've said many times, Christianity is a good thing. It is a noble religion, full of wisdom and compassion and moral virtue. It is also greatly misunderstood, often by people who claim to be practicing it. If more people were true Christians, who did all the things Jesus taught rather than just the ones they find appealing, I think America would be a better place. But true Christianity must be very difficult to practice -- for instance, that part about loving one's enemies would be very difficult indeed. (If I ran into Osama bin Laden, it wouldn't be love I dispensed to him.)

But a lot of people claim to be Christians not because of the moral virtues of Christianity but because of an impulse to conform, and to enforce conformity, to a particular set of social mores. These, no doubt, are the kinds of people who are just as pleased as punch to see a statue like this and they wonder why people like me get so upset by this sort of thing.

Yes, the church in Memphis as a right to erect this statute and argue that America is, or should be, a Christian nation. But I also have a right, and I'm exercising it here, to say that they're wrong.

Accendiamo a Berlino ed alla vittoria!

The biggest game so far -- and the Azzurri won, 2-0, at the very end of overtime. This is, I believe, the game-winning goal in the 119th minute.

I sat down and watched the whole game -- I was as tense as I get during a close Green Bay game. The whole time, The Wife was saying that she thought the Germans were really cute (and disliking key Italian player Mauro Camaronesi's long hair) and some amazing saves got made by an extraordinary German keeper. But the Italian keeper made some amazing stops, too, and the Italians played more aggressively.

This was especially true in the second overtime period -- you could tell the Germans were confident they could win on penalty kicks, and the Italians were also pretty sure the Germans had an edge if it went that far. So the last fifteen minutes were desparate, balls-to-the-wall play by the Azzurri and as much keep-away as the Germans could muster.

The final is Sunday in Berlin, against the winner of Portugal-France. (The Wife thinks that Portugal are way cuter than France.) Italy will be the favorite. Avanti!

Imperial Vehicle Code

Bit by bit, I'm putting together the important revisions to the laws that will come into effect after the revolution comes and our democracy collapses into dictatorship. When that happens, I intend to find myself on top and I will promulgate a number of decrees to modify existing law for the general benefit of all my subjects. As with so many other things, I look to classical history for guidance and wisdom, and I find that Lucius Cornelius Sulla had some pretty good ideas.

The thing is, unlike Sulla, I will be a generally benevolent and kind overlord, and those who know how to behave themselves with a modicum of dignity and intelligence will scarcely notice any change between today's society and that which will blossom under my guidance. But, there are those who will need to make adjustments to their lifestyle. Like the jerk behind us in the Honda mini-SUV last night at the McDonald's drive-thru, whose motor and muffler had been altered to the point that its rumble rendered me unable to communicate with The Wife because of the deafening roar, who thought that was an appropriate way to transport his dog. He'll have a little bit more difficult fitting in after the revolution comes. He won't like this law, which will be early in the course of my Imperial decrees to be issued, representing the importance of this law to The Leader:

(A) Any vehicle which emanates audible noises in excess of 65 decibels for longer than two seconds on or within 100 yards of an Imperial Highway shall be in violation of the Imperial Vehicle Noise Ordinance. The owner and the driver of the vehicle shall share strict liability for violation of the Imperial Vehicle Noise Ordinance, and the judge of the Low Criminal Court shall impose punishments as follows.

(B) Punishment shall be as follows:
For the first offense: the vehicle shall be immediately impounded and summarily repaired by the Imperial Army's Mechanical Corps, and all offending equipment shall be removed or restored to functional conditioning immediately, and the violator shall reimburse the Imperial Government for all expenses incurred before the vehicle is released from Imperial impound.
For the second offense: the vehicle shall be immediately impounded and replaced with a silent-running electric vehicle equipped with a governor on all internal audio devices. After six months of continuous use of such vehicle, the owner may apply to the Low Criminal Court for return of the original vehicle.
For the third offense: punishment cumulative with second offense, and furthermore, the owner shall be sentenced to two weeks' labor cleaning the Imperial Highways of litter and other road debris.
For the fourth offense: the owner forfeits his right to own a motor vehicle or to operate a motor vehicle on the Imperial Highways for eleven months and twenty-nine days.
For the fifth offense: reference to the High Criminal Court for prosecution for the crime of willful stupidity.

(C) If an animal or child under the age of twelve years is contained within the vehicle at the time it emanates noise in violation of this decree, the Imperial Attorneys shall further examine the facts and refer appropriate cases to the High Criminal Court to prosecute instances of the crimes of animal abuse or child abuse.

(D) If the noise causing violation of this decree is louder than the sirens of law enforcement, firefighting, or ambulance vehicles, observed from either within or without the vehicle, the Imperial Attorneys shall further examine the facts and refer approrpriate cases to the High Criminal Court to prosecute instances of the crime of interference with emergency services.

(E) If the noise causing the violation of this decree is a repeating-sound auto alarm, and such sound persists for longer than twenty seconds, Imperial citizens shall be authorized to immediately disable the alarm through judicious use of aluminim baseball bats, and such conduct shall not be held to be a violation of the Imperial Vandalism Law.

(F) Freedom of speech does not include volume, at least not on the roads. So says The Leader.

Yes, there will be many candidates for the dubious honor of "first against the wall" after the revolution comes, but let's get real. We can't execute everyone who pisses off The Leader. It's too easy to do and that would simply cause a labor shortage. It's better this way -- we'll get the loud cars and trucks off the road, so people can hear the damn sirens and not blow out their pets' or childrens' eardrums, and the rest of us can drive in peace.

Don't worry, Loyal Readers. You will all benefit from your proximity to The Leader (whose initials you should recognize by now). It won't be democracy and that will be too bad -- but perhaps with a little strong guidance, people will be able to learn how to responsibly use their freedom and can be trusted with self-government again.

But I'd better damn well not have any trouble getting my mail after the revolution, I'll tell you what.

Records Will Be Broken

My so-far failsafe way of predicting World Cup outcomes has been stymied. The Wife advises that the guys on the German team are pretty much equally as cute as the guys on the Italian team. This means that if you are betting, you definitely should be taking the Azzurri and the point. The betting market is favoring the Germans by about two to one. Some of that is home-field advantage, surely -- but the thing is, there are a lot of factors on both sides.

Allesandro Nesta still isn't healthy enough to play, but Germany will be without midfielder Torsten Frings, who has been a big part of the game, too, as punishment for a little bit of extracurricular pugilism against an Argentina player after the match. Germany has never lost when they play at Dortmund. But, Italy hasn't given up a goal to its opponents at all this tournament. The only goal counted against Italy, the single point that tied the U.S. in the round-robin matches, was an own goal -- it took an Italian to score on Italy. And, Italy has never lost to Germany in head-to-head competition during the World Cup.

Tomorrow, we'll see which of these two streaks -- the Dortmund streak or Italy just having Germany's number -- will be broken. I'm going to wear my blue shirt and root for the Azzurri and enjoy the game while I make my dish to pass for the Fourth of July party afterwards. Either way, there will be another game after tomorrow for the fans of Italy -- but here's hoping it's for the gold instead of for pride.

Avanti!

Mailbox Woes

Since we've moved in, we've been unable to get our mail. We got a mail key from our landlord, but it doesn't work. First it's the post office's problem. Then it's the builder's problem. Then it's the post office's problem again. Now we have to fill out our forms and get the key and lock replaced ourselves. This is getting ridiculous. We can't get our checks, we can't get our ATM cards, we won't be able to get our driver's licenses, we can't even tell what money we owe and to whom.

The Wife has been working this problem out. I've been pedalling at full speed at work and haven't had time to look into this. I fully trust her ability to get the problem resolved, but Wednesday, when we go to get our driver's licenses, I may have a few words to say to the postmaster myself.

Great Seats in San Diego's Petco Park

Sunday, our very good friends -- our best man and matron of honor -- invited us to a ballgame down in San Diego. They had phenomenal seats. The view from our seats is to the right. I hadn't been to a game at Petco Park since my bachelor party, more than two years ago.

You get a really good sense of exactly how difficult baseball is to play at a high competitive level when you're that close to the action. You see how bigthe strike zone is for even a player of average height. You get a sense of how fastthe ball moves -- a 90 mile an hour fastball seems invisible if you don't keep laser-like focus on the pitcher. At the same time, it's remarkably easy to see where the ball flies across the plate.

The Wife had a good time, too -- especially egging on our friend Katherine, who is quite a lot of fun when a few drinks have been passed around. It's fun to see The Wife out in the sun, having fun. It's fun to be with friends. The drive to and from San Diego is just a bit long for an easy day trip, but it's a do-able day trip. If we can find ourselves a dog-sitter, we can stay the night in the future, which would be a great pleasure, too. Then we could stick around for more than one margarita.

Both The Wife and I really like San Diego. This trip did nothing but affirm our great affinity for America's Finest City.