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.