Wednesday, April 27, 2005

Well, kids, God willing, there will be no further posts by Steanso until June 3rd or thereabouts. Hopefully by this time tomorrow Steanso will be watching Crackbass barf up daquiris into some canal in New Orleans.
Try not to miss me too much.

And seriously, in light of my latest client interview, take this to heart: if any of you guys ever do something illegal and the cops come knocking on your door, do not talk to them. Tell them that you have a friend who's a criminal defense attorney who told you never to talk to the cops without an attorney being present. They may threaten to take you to jail, but it's a lot better to spend an hour or two in the pokey than to give the cops all of the evidence they need to convict you in court (which will usually end in a much longer jail sentence, probation, or prison). Despite what they may lead you to believe, if the cops are questioning you as a suspect, they are NOT there to help you or do you any kind of favors, and they will lie their fool heads off to get you to hang yourself by admitting guilt.
Here endeth the lesson.

Well, that's about it. Keep your heads down 'til I return.

Tuesday, April 26, 2005

Well, as Steanso writes this blog, he is on the phone, on hold with The Man- none other than the IRS! Apparently there were a few little glitches in Steanso's 2003 tax return due to some... ahem.... uh... oversights which have come to the attention of the good men and women at the Internal Revenue Service (damn computers...). I don't mind paying the taxes (after all, they're buying me one hell of a war and possibly a new vacation destination over there in Iraq), but being put on hold by people who want to roll you for your fat cash is for the birds.

Talked to my baby brother on the phone last night, and apparently he and the missus are becoming quite the Phoenix Suns fans. Also, their new puppy, Lucy, has a tapeworm. Ryan sounded a little disappointed by that, but I pointed out to him that he actually got two pets for the price of one, so now I'm sure he'll be keeping a stiff upper lip. Anyway, a few pills (albeit very expensive pills) and Lucy'll be good as new. Maybe if I could get a tapeworm I could lose some weight. And make a new friend. Named Tapey.

One more day of work until Jazzfest. Of course, tomorrow looks like it's going to be completely crazy-busy, but I would expect no less. I'll be clawing and scratching in court on Wednesday morning, and hopefully by Thursday afternoon I'll be in New Orleans with a daquiri in my hand.

And if you readers are getting bored with The Adventures because Steanso's blogging has, perhaps, not been up to snuff, I suggest this article from the NY Times:
It discusses interventionist courts, and programs like Austin's own drug court, which takes clients out of the mainstream criminal justice program and places them in a setting which is meant to address addiction rather than simply penalize. I have mixed feelings about these kinds of programs, which typically do a great deal to help your client, but require him to admit guilt on his case in order to get that help. (which can be troublesome if, say, your client really does have a drug problem, but in this particular case, the drugs that they found really weren't his) Anyway, it's an interesting article and an interesting development in the justice system. I'm curious to hear what anyone thinks about this stuff, if you want to post comments.
My personal feeling is that all drug addiction should be treated less like a crime and more like a disease, but the country seems greatly divided in how it wants to treat this issue.

Well, dat's it for now. Hope all's well out there.

Monday, April 25, 2005

Oh dear lord, does it ever feel like a Monday. Angry judges, angrier clients, and a boss who didn't show up this morning. On top of all this, I've got to go to a municipal court setting this afternoon. Muni court!!! I have to go and argue about a traffic ticket! I swore never to do this kind of crap years ago, but the client is some kind of friend of the boss's wife. Oh well.

The weekend was pretty good. Two band practices, some yard work, and a bunch of reading and movies. Cassidy went to the vet on Saturday, and she got to meet a lemur named Monkey (which is a bit ironic, because lemurs, as the vet explained, are actually primates and not monkeys at all).

Jazzfest is Thursday. Just gotta make it to Thursday....

Friday, April 22, 2005

It's Friday, it's Friday!
Steanso went out last night to have a beer with old high school chums, Dr. Kevin "The Pope" Palka, Mike "The Toaster" Voith, Brian Krueger, and Reed "Weedo" Shaw. We went to the Drafthorse and drank a bunch of beers and stayed out too late. I got updates on a bunch of other high school classmates who, despite living in the same town with me, I never see or hear from.
I like seeing these guys and reminiscing a bit about the good ol' days, but it feels like another lifetime since we were in school. Between college, law school, and a couple of intervening jobs, it feels like I have gone through generations of new friends, acquaintances, and experiences since I parted ways with these guys for college. Still, it's always great to see them. Mike's still got a staccato, razor sharp wit, and Palka is still smoking like a chimney and grumbling about the absurdity of his surroundings (although these days he refers to the hospital that he works at rather than high school teachers).
Anyway, it was good to see them. Erin, if you read this, Palka says hi.
What else?
My Dad is in China right now, roaming the countryside looking for peasants to exploit and checking market updates on his Blackberry. In all seriousness, Pop says that the people in China have been extremely pleasant to deal with, and they seem to be cautiously curious about Americans. With their emerging capitalist markets, Dad says that China is an interesting place to be at the moment because it's in such an obvious transition period. Communism is giving way to manufacturing and a somewhat controlled free market economy, and so I guess my Dad's company is thinking of doing some manufacturing over there.

And how about this?,0,4502787.story?coll=la-home-nation
Tony Perkins, of the Family Research Council, and James Dobson, of Focus on the Family, have both decided that it's in the best interest of Jesus loving people everywhere to try to do away with entire courts that have made rulings which are contrary to their point of view. Since these dudes are friends and supporters of such ethically high minded individuals as Tom Delay, unfortunately, their voices are being heard by people in power.
OK, peeps. I'm getting a little tired of this Republican power grab. Even when the Democrats had it good (although, admittedly, I don't remember them ever having it as good as the Republicans have it right now), they didn't try to undermine our entire system of government so that no one else could ever be heard.
I truly fear living in a country with a one party political system, whether it's conservative or progressive. Countries with one party political systems are countries where it becomes dangerous to speak your mind.
Furthermore, the judiciary has traditionally been something which must remain independent and objective if it is to do its job effectively. Putting political pressure on the judiciary risks destroying our good ol' system of checks and balances. We're supposed to be living in a country of majority rule, but with protection for the rights of the minority. These judges (along with lawyers and our tattered constitution) are supposed to be the common sense guardians of our rights against those who would try to impose their will on others in violation of their constitutional rights. The judiciary are the branch who tell our legislators when they've gone too far- when they've overstepped their legislative authority by violating the constitution.
Damn it.
It's all too crazy. I can't deal with it on a sunny Friday.

Thursday, April 21, 2005

S'up? Hope everyone had a good 4/20 holiday yesterday (if you don't know, don't ask, 'cause I ain't telling).
I just got done bonding most of a family out of jail- father, mother, and son (there was a daughter who was not at home at the time of the arrest and did not get in trouble). All three were arrested on drug charges after a party that they threw got out of hand. How does this fit under the "family values" rubric? So much for those PSAs telling you that spending time with your kids is the best way to keep them off drugs...
It was kind of a funny situation- the kids in this family seemed a lot more mature, calm, and collected than the parents, and they kind of stepped in to take control of the situation and deal with bonding all of them out of jail while the parents just did a lot of crying. At the risk of overgeneralizing, I think that hippies produce odd kids who are used to having to deal with situations when their parents melt down. Maybe I should ask Reasonable Rosa about this potential phenomenon. Her parents were allegedly hippies of some sort. Rosa, on the other hand, clearly did not get the hippie gene.
In other news, the Texas House of Reps voted today by a margin of 135 to 6 to prohibit gay couples from becoming foster parents. Hooray Texas!
When I saw a woman from CPS being interviewed about this on television, her response was, "Well, I've never heard of any kind of study or anything that indicates that children are damaged by being raised in gay households, but CPS certainly needs more support, and I think the legislature would only give it to us with this provision on it..."
Great. When I worked as a guardian ad litem a couple of years ago (during my brief period of solo practice), I represented foster kids who were going through the state's guardianship system. The foster care system was in such desperate need of parents that it was placing up to like 7 or 8 kids in a single household (for real- I saw it with my own eyes). As things seem to be shaping up, poverty-stricken welfare moms who can barely manage to take care of themselves can get foster kids simply in order to boost their income (the state provides a modest subsidy for foster parents), but a gay couple living in a $500,000 house with a Mercedes and a BMW in the driveway can't qualify. All of this despite the fact that there is pretty much no clinical, empirical, or even anecdotal evidence to suggest that growing up in a home with two gay parents does any harm to a developing child. So our state legislature is willing to cut off its nose to spite its face- to turn kids away from loving homes in order that our legislators can satisfy an agenda born of bias, prejudice, ignorance, and fear. Hooray for Texas! This kind of crap makes me want to blow something up (Note, dear censors, that I did not say I was planning on blowing anything up. Yet.)

Wednesday, April 20, 2005

Hey, everyone! What's the buzz?
Lunch today featured not only the lovely and talented Jennifer Kraber, but also such exciting personalities as Sean Slack, Trey Collins, Amy Blanchard, and the ever popular Rosa Theofanis.
Sean Slack is not only a family violence prosecutor, but he also plays in a band called San Saba County with an old friend and schoolmate of mine named John Saba. San Saba Co. has kind of a country/bluegrass/rock thing going on, and everyone should go see them play on Friday night at Trophy's. They really are pretty darn good. I wouldn't steer my readers wrong.
What else.....?
Jennifer has bemoaned the fact that she has not gotten much press on my blog, so maybe it's her turn. Jennifer, for those of you who don't know her, is my friend, colleague, and former neighbor, and she's currently the court chief (head prosecutor) for County Court at Law Number 4, the family violence court here in Travis County. Family violence cases are typically about as ugly as it gets in misdemeanor court, with husbands and wives beating each other up, calling the cops on each other, and then later lying to try to cover the whole thing up so it can start again. I personally have mixed feelings about Court 4 and it's role in policing family units (sometimes I feel the intervention of the police into family relationships is a cure worse than the disease, but sometimes someone needs to step in to stop real, physical harm from being done). Anyway, the role of family violence prosecutor is definitely a necessary job and a very tough one (even if I differ with them in opinion on certain cases). Spending your days working on cases that involve supposedly loving relationships which have deteriorated into violence is enough to make anyone hard and cynical, and personal feelings aside, the cases are technically difficult because the victim is often trying to hide evidence from the prosecutor by the time the case goes to court (family violence victims tend to have short memories once their loved ones begin to beg them to drop the case- this is the phenomenon which leads to the "cycle of violence" referred to by prosecutors).
Anyway, all of this to end up back with Jennifer. I know that her job stresses her out a lot, but she's good at it and I think the seriousness with which she approaches the job underscores her dedication to what she's doing, despite the fact that it may take a bit of a personal toll on her sometimes. Also, she's a cutthroat pool player, a mean dancer, and she's willing to try to sing along with any song, whether she knows the lyrics or not. On the down side, she is somewhat demanding with the remote control when you watch TV with her, and she's kind of a backseat driver. She's also not nearly as good at poker as she thinks she is, and I can take her money any day of the week.

Tuesday, April 19, 2005

OK, the network was down at our office yesterday, so that's why there was no post. I apologize profusely.
The Bridenstine wedding was a festive event. The Steans clan all got along pretty well, and it was widely recognized that the Steans boys, along with sister-in-law Jamie McBride, were the most furious and fabulous dancers on the dancefloor at the reception. At one point, I actually thought that the people on the dancefloor were going to make a circle so that Ryan could do the robot. I got to meet lots of Bridenstines that I had heard about for years but never met, and they seemed like a pretty fun group. Kudos to Sunny for being the runner up best dancer behind the Steans kids. The Karebear wasn't bad, either.
Last night I had dinner at the Wilsons. We had yummy burritos and apple juice. After dinner, Jeff wandered into the yard where he saw an owl. Jeff Wilson has long fantasized about owls, having commented previously that he has considered building some sort of owl habitat in his backyard. At any rate, when the moment of truth came, a very excitable Jeff Wilson did what I can only imagine is exactly the wrong thing to do when spotting some rare, introverted bit of wildlife that you've been hoping would nest in your yard- he screamed his head off. "MAAANDY!!!!! STEEEEEANS!!!!!! OOOWWWLLLL!!!!!"
The owl quickly fled, and by the time Mandy and I arrived outside, it was making its way away from the Wilson abode- a shadowy figue flitting away from us amongst the trees.
Jeff thinks that the owl was attracted to the toads in his backyard pond, so he is convinced that the owl will return, but my personal belief is that no sensible creature would return to a yard where people are screaming like that. The countless toads, however, don't seem to mind.

A former client of mine just called for a chat. It all started harmlessly enough. He told me he had picked up a ticket for public intoxication.
"Well, you gotta be careful when you party downtown, man."
"Uh, yeah. I think I might have another problem, too."
"Oh, yeah? What's that?"
"I think some girl might be saying I did a sex crime on her."
"You think? What makes you think that?"
"Well, this detective just called me....."
Crap. Now I probably gotta sit through an interrogation tomorrow.

Friday, April 15, 2005

Well, I didn't think I would be doing a post today, seeing as how I'm in Houston for a wedding, but I got to my parents' house and no one is home. Having nothing to do except try to reconcile my current self with the skinnier childhood Jason in the pictures adorning my parents walls, I turn to the computer....
Hmmmmm. Jeff Wilson was unhappy with yesterday's posting. Apparently it had too much political rant to it and not enough tomfoolery involving our friends. He's also unhappy with the fact that I revealed the truth about his germ-ridden, infectious nature, and how he fills everyone around him with disease, death, and decay. It's ok, Jeff. Every group of friends needs its own horseman of pestilence, and you're ours.
If I were in Austin this weekend I would probably go to Andy's house in Wimberly with Jeff and we would swim in the pool and shoot shotguns and play with Maggie (who is the Sensat dog) and Ocho (who is Andy's cat) and ride in offroad golfcarts and catch animals in the creek for Jeff's pond and cook up fish in the outdoor fish fryer and quite possibly drink a swallow or two of whiskey. Maybe now that we have unlocked our musical potential with Crack, we could even rock the canyon with a keyboard, bass and banjo trio from the patio.
Instead of all that, I'm in Houston for a wedding. Hopefully it'll be fun. Maybe Wimberly some other weekend.
All for now. Mayhaps more later if I get bored.

Thursday, April 14, 2005

Damnit. I just lost a two page long tyrade to the whimsy of the blog system.
Anyway, suffice it to say that I'm still pissed about this:
and I think that people should go here to voice complaints:
As I said before, about half of the people filing for bankruptcy in this country are doing so because of unexpected health care costs in a system which leaves them inadequately insured. Furthermore, insurance companies constantly bombard consumers with advertising and direct mail plans designed to entice people into contracting for services which are inappropriate for them and which quickly entice uneducated consumers into credit situations which result in debt problems. Under the current bankruptcy laws, creditors who file for bankruptcy typically start to receive offers for lines of credit from credit card companies (the same companies which want to do away with the bankruptcy safeguards) within a month or two of filing their bankruptcy. Credit card companies want to be able to make money by extending lines of credit without having to take on any of the responsibility or risk which has traditionally come with being a lender. Part of the reason companies have been able to charge interest on their loans is because they are having to shoulder the risk that some of the customers will not be able to pay their loans back.
I'm not saying that creditors shouldn't have penalties for defaulting or that bankruptcy shouldn't be uncomfortable, but to make credit a no lose situation for the credit companies puts an unbearable burden on creditors who face extreme debt. Credit companies should not be in the business of lending money if they are not willing to assume some of the risk for situations where people are truly insolvent (and can demonstrate this fact).
Bottom line: if credit companies were more careful about who they were going to extend credit to in the first place, there wouldn't need to be a change in the bankruptcy laws. Instead, credit companies give credit to people who have no business holding credit cards or lines of credit in the first place (they give credit to people in massive amounts of debt or to peple who have already filed bankruptcy) in order to try to squeeze a profit out of high risk loans, but then they don't want to suffer any consequences for venturing into areas where they shouldn't have been loaning money in the first place. Bankruptcy is not pleasant, and for the consumers who are willing to take that extreme step in the attempt to turn their situation around, I think we need to keep some protections available for the consumer.
Wow. Even I didn't know how much I had to say about that crap.

Going to Houston tomorrow for a wedding, so don't expect a blog, you suckas.
Jeff and Mandy gave me a cold. Bastards. Mandy also gave me some cold medicine that she got from her doctor, which was very nice of her. Jeff gave me nothing. Between the meds and the vitamin C, I should be back to myself in no time.
OK, that's all.
What about that law in Wisconsin for hunting cats?
Crazy stuff. Jen Shaw is not a big fan of this initiative. I know 'cause I asked her. Here's an idea- instead of fighting over whether or not to hunt these wild cats, maybe cat owners should keep track of their pets so they don't run around outside, especially without a collar. Anyway, it's true that I'm not really a cat lover, but I'm really not up for seeing any animal get shot if it can be avoided.

Wednesday, April 13, 2005

Apologies to Rosa and any of my other faithful readers who might have been left despondent and nearly suicidal by my failure to post a blog yesterday. Yesterday the ol' blog machine just wouldn't let me log on to publish anything. I'm not sure what was up with that. Probably The Man screwing with me again.
I want to wish a very happy belated birthday to Ryan "Roundball" Steans, my younger sibling and one of the most polychromatic guys I've ever met. Ryan turned 30 years young, yesterday, so it's safe to say that the best days of his life are now behind him, and there's nothing left to live for. Cheers, mate!
What else...?
Britney Spears is pregnant. Just can't bring myself to care enough about that to even make a joke about it. Aren't her 15 minutes up yet?
Michael Jackson apparently offered to buy a house and to pay for college for some boy who slept with him if the kid would just appear on a videotape refuting earlier statements that had accused Jackson of impropriety. Man. If only a few of my clients had enough money to buy houses for their accusers, I bet I could work out all kinds of deals.
Last, but certainly not least, our hard working political leaders in Washington our working in our best interest again. Bills are currently working their way through Congress which would repeal the estate tax, a tax which effects only the wealthiest 2% of the population (individuals with estates larger than $1.5 million) and which largely taxes only capital gains (which will go untaxed if the estate tax is repealed). The estate tax also encourages charity by making charitable contributions tax exempt. At the same time that the estate tax is being scheduled for demolition, Congress (with help from their friends in the banking and credit industries) is looking to modify the bankruptcy laws to make it more difficult for Americans to work their way out from under crippling mountains of debt (requiring all money to be repaid to creditors, despite declaring bankruptcy). Congress is choosing to modify these laws at a time when most studies indicate that half of the people who declare bankruptcy do so because of unexpected medical care costs in a system which leaves them inadequately insured. Congress doesn't have much to say about fixing those problems with the health care system.
Anyway, I'm being cut off in mid rant because a client just came in to see me. Probably a good thing. I don't want to be too political. It upsets Crackbass.

What is up, AMD? You're s'posed to be the friendly little Austin-based company that makes Intel look like big, evil ogres who engage in stupid construction projects (which later get abandoned). Reed and Frank, we'd appreciate it if you could prevent AMD from screwing up our groundwater. Thanks.

Monday, April 11, 2005

Well, it's Monday. The weekend has come and gone and Steanso has little, if anything, to show for it, loyal readers.
Friday night Steanso got mugged in a card game at the McCrimmon residence, Satuday night was spent at Casa de Crackbass with Jeff and Jackbart, eating snausages and watching Paycheck (a lamentably bad movie by John Woo, starring Ben Affleck), and Sunday was spent on a little yard work and then a Chinese dinner with the Wilsons. I learned to play a new song (by Eric Gottula) on banjo, and I played quite a bit of a strange new videogame called Siren which takes place in a haunted Japanese fishing village (I read some good reviews of it, so I decided to check it out).
I also took Cassidy for a couple of walks this weekend. During one such walk, Cassidy decided to pick a fight with a wiener dog who has his own little doggy wheelchair at the end of the street. The wiener dogs' owner seemed a little freaked out by the growling, but I was fully prepared to let them go at it. I didn't see any reason to deprive either one of these crippled little warriors of the chance to prove their ferocity. Anyway, Cassidy is mostly good natured, and it was funny. Imagine the comedy of a three-legged border collie facing off against a wheelchair wiener dog. Good stuff. Anyway, there was a lot of huffing and puffing and posturing, but in the end, neither one of them were really up for a fight. They both hobbled off in opposite directions, each tail wagger content in the fact that she had gotten the better of the other.
I also began reading a draft of a story that mi hermano has been working on. I've only gotten about a quarter of the way through it, but it's pretty good so far. Pretty dense stuff, with lots of imagery and snappy dialogue. I will say that there's something vaguely uncomfortable about reading a narrative that's written by your brother from the standpoint of a woman (I'm not sure that the whole story is told from a woman's viewpoint, but the first portion seems to be).

Gearing up for John Bridenstine's wedding this weekend. For those of you who don't know, John is one of Steanso's de facto cousins. Long, long ago, presumably out of sympathy for their son (who had no cousins of his own to abuse or conspire with as a child), The Admiral and The Karebear (my parents) got together with their good friends, the Bridenstines, and concocted a fable in which somehow John and Jim Bridenstine were our cousins, even though in reality our parents were in no way related. It took many decades for the Steans and Bridenstine boys to realize that we were not actually blood relatives, and by that time, the damage was done. We had spent way too many vacations and holidays with the Bridenstines to give up on the fantasy of cousins from Texas who were our same age. The Steanses and Bridenstines were inextricably linked- if not by blood, than by the unshakeable desire on the part of their parents to continue to get together on a semi annual basis for eating, drinking, playing, and shopping.
Anyhoo, John B. is getting married this weekend to girlfriend and fiancee, Julie "Don't call me Juliette" Lewis. Julie is a lovely lass from the swampwater state of Louisiana, and the two of them currently live in a six story mansion in Magnolia, Texas (ok, it's not quite six stories, but it's big), where John hordes his money and continues to develop his ongoing career as a Houston slumlord and contemplate his future career as a professional baseball team owner. We at clan Steanso wish them all the best and look forward to their impending nuptials.

Well, that's about as much as I can squeeze out today. Peace.

Friday, April 08, 2005

Well, I got a new computer (which was why there was no blog yesterday), and the blog server seems to be hating me these days and not wanting to let me post my blogs (this is my 3rd attempt today). Anyway, I just wanted to say hi and that I hope eveyone has a good weekend. There's a waiting room full of people waiting to see me, each cherubic little face representing a different crime, and I'm just hoping that at least one of them has done something interesting. I don't think I can handle another DWI this afternoon. My kingdom for a good drug raid or an organized theft ring.
Went to happy hour at Opal Divine's yesterday. It was ok, but there were babies there. Babies in bars make me uneasy, a little. Which is weird, b/c dogs in bars don't bother me. Of course, most dogs would handle themselves better in a bar brawl than most babies.
Went to lunch with DK today. DK is the manager of a softball team, and apparently their social referee as well. DK told me about how she has to kick some woman off their softball team today b/c she keeps dating and then braking up with one of their best players. The whole mess is driving this good player crazy, so she was gonna quit, but DK is kicking this other girl off the team in order to keep the more talented girl on the roster and preserve their team's quality of play (which is apparently at a sort of Bad News Bears level, anyway). Anyway, there's an important lesson to be learned here about... well... uh...
OK, there's not really a lesson, but I laughed when she told me the story.
Well, let's see if this will publish.

Wednesday, April 06, 2005

Hey guys. Sorry my blog was nonexistent yesterday, but I was just way too freaking busy. Consider it a day of mourning for the Pope.
Well, now that John Paul has vacated his seat, it's time for Pope Kevin Palka to finally formally ascend to the position whose title he has informally utilized for several decades. Long live Pope Palka! May he declare a fatwa against bubblegum pop and WB programming.
The Mono Ensemble has been doing some recording (as mentioned in some of my prior blogs), and Eric has put together some damn fine songs out of our bits and pieces (although there are a few that still need some more work). Look forward to these Mono recordings coming to you soon on a hastily burned, generic CD.
As I read about Johnny Cochran's funeral today, which was attended by several of his former clients, including Jacko and O.J., I try to imagine what my funeral would be like if my clients were to attend...
First of all, there would be the client who thought he had bugs living inside his brain. He was a janitor who was uncomfortable if he didn't have a cleaning utensil in his hand, so maybe they would let him quietly mop the area around my coffin during the eulogy. Then there are the various drug addicts who would be fidgety during the funeral service, picking at themselves and glancing around the room. A few of them would probably have to sneak outside for a fix at some point. The stoners would giggle during the funeral, get confused and wonder who's service they were attending about 15 minutes into it (if they were still awake), and then wander off to see if there's any food. There would probably be some family violence client who would get into a loud argument or a pushing match with his spouse during one of the hymns (when told to break up the fight, this client will of course, maintain that the fight wasn't his fault). The DWI clients would be laying low and trying to look as if they shouldn't be seated with the other clients, and our fraud and theft defendants would be trying to convince Travis that they gave me $500 in cash the day before I died that was supposed to be credited against their bill (and, of course, they don't know why I never gave it to the office).
Unlike Jacko, I don't think any of my clients would show up in limousines. Some would ride in beat up cars and others would take the bus. When the service was over, the parking lot would probably be filled with the collective sighs of a dozen clients blowing into the intoxilyzer machines on their cars in unison. I'm not sure whether any of my clients would show up at all. My job doesn't always allow me to tell my clients what they want to hear- it often involves me having to tell them what's in their best interest, but doing what's in their best interest is often not the advice that the clients want. They just want their cases to disappear without any hassle, but that's usually not a realistic expectation. But I try to make sure that each client gets the best deal possibble and I try to make the process understandable, and therefore, I hope, more bearable.
Still, I do get the occasional thank you card from a client, and there are some of them that I sincerely enjoy talking to on the phone or when they come in to visit. Maybe they'll at least show up if there's some free food or booze. Maybe that cute girl who wanted to join the DEA will show up and fire off her service revolver in a 21 gun salute alongside a few of our gang bangers with their AK-47s. Dare to dream.
Not too much else. Weedo wants to see Sin City tonight. I'm not sure I can handle that movie twice in 4 days.

Tuesday, April 05, 2005

Sorry, kids. Truly no time for blogging today. I promise to be better next time.

Monday, April 04, 2005

Well, let me be the first one to say that I really, really hate springing forward for daylight savings time. For Steanso, it's more like staggering forward.

The weekend was ok. Went and saw Sin City last night with Wilsons and their posse at the South Lamar Alamo Drafthouse. That place is cool for those of you who haven't been there yet. Good food, tasty beverages, and they've got a giant silver screen for showing black and white movies and the occasional 3D flick. The Drafthouse pizzas are kickass, and their pitchers of sangria ain't bad either.

Sin City was a cool flick. It was one of the most literal adaptations of a comic book that I've ever seen on film, and its stylized look was something really unique (and well-adapted for the screen). I even liked the soundtrack that Rodriguez wrote for himself. The acting probably won't win any academy awards (I'm not sure that anything in this movie can win an academy award after Rodriguez gave up his SAG membership to make the movie with Frank Miller), but the script is pretty stripped down and lends itself to grittiness rather than poetry, anyway. This movie probably isn't going to appeal to everyone because it's just a wee bit dark (and has a bucketload of violence, although much of it occurs offscreen or in stylized, silhouetted cut scenes), but I had fun.

Other from that, I wasted a lot of my weekend. I did some yard work, ran a few errands, and played my guitar, but mostly I just screwed around.

p.s. - I ran into Andy Sensat last night for the first time since the advent of his column, and he handled the whole affair rather good naturedly (better than I had expected, actually). Although he maintains that there are some minor factual errors amongst the Events, he generally agreed that my accounting of events was more or less accurate. Everyone make sure to congratulate Andy for making our lives more interesting next time you see him. Rami, you're next.

Friday, April 01, 2005

And now, this being Friday, I bring you kids another item in the informative and entertaining series,

Events with Andy Sensat that Have Left Emotional Scars
The Beach Trip
The trip to Port Aransas was pretty darn fun. Let me get that admission out of the way before Andy jumps down my throat for making him sound like a downer. But it, nevertheless, had certain "Sensatesque" maniacal qualities. Part one was the trip down there. I was the driver and Andy was the navigator. And I use the term "navigator" very loosely. Mostly, between the beers and smoke Andy would vaguely suggest that we drive in a certain direction. We would rock out to some tunes for a long period of time, and then he would snap out of his fugue state and say something like, "None of this looks familiar. I think we better U turn and look for a different road." Then we would drive back the other direction and look for a road that looked familiar to Andy that we could try out. An entertaining, if not efficient, system of navigation. Eventually we ran out of dry land and had to take a ferry, which was a good thing, because it meant we weren't headed for Mexico.
Also on this trip, I learned of Andy's desire to breed kangaroos with fangs (an idea that I warned him against) and to construct a trailer park in Las Vegas that had the shape of a mushroom, with a casino in the upper portion and parking spaces for the RVs in descending concentric circles around the stem. Once in Port Aransas, we frequented a seafood restaurant dubbed The Crazy Cajun where Andy spotted Tony Price and shouted a greeting of "Hey Crinklefinger!" while mimicking her bent finger with one of his own upraised paws. She looked a little amused and a little nervous, seeing as how Andy shouted out his greeting to her from about 2 feet away. Inside the restaurant, Andy stole a live crawfish from one of the kids at a table near us, named it Mr. Pinchy or something like that, and decided to take it home as a friend. He hollared out to the waiter that if there was going to be a problem with his newly appropriated catch, then he didn't want to hear about it, grabbed the crawfish up off the table, and fled the establishment. At our little beach bungalow, Andy demanded that all of the members of our vacation party appreciate Mr. Pinchy on the same level that he did, and he waved him in our faces to demonstrate the point. The girls screamed, and Andy, crawfish in one hand and beer in the other, angrily staggered out the door to spend some quality time with his new friend. No one is sure what became of Mr. Pinchy after that, but he was never seen again. Andy himself seems confused and a little angry, even to this day, when we bring up Mr. Pinchy and his unknown fate. Let's all hope that somehow, through the hand of God, that Mr. Pinchy is relaxing somewhere in a tiny, crawfish-sized beach chair even as I write this.
The way home involved Public Enemy and a lot of general tomfoolery.

Well, it's Friday, and I've wasted enough time. It's time to go home and see Cassidy. Peace out, kids.