The Foreseeable Future.

Ah, the leisurely life of a lawyer...

Chauffeured into the office each morning in our gold-plated Mercedes by tanned Swedish bikini models, we are met at the door by our personalized pygmy attendants. Fresh French pressed coffee is served in jewel-encrusted chalices by virgin handmaidens. I sit in my baby-seal skin chair to listen to young Irish choir boys read my mail to me while I am fanned with handfuls of my own money.

For our afternoon break, we shoot peasants with hunting rifles from the roof, and then we give thanks to our lord, Satan, for our glorious bounty.

Or so you think...

I was in the office until 9:30 tonight, clearing the decks to prepare for next week's trial. It's bound to be a big one.

The cleaning lady was startled to see me. I quickly tucked the burger wrappers (my only meal today) into the trash can, and handed it over my desk to her. I finished two phase reports for the insurance company, three responses to Requests for Production and finalized an inbox full of dictation, all after 6:30.

The desk is now clear. Trial prep starts tomorrow. Trial begins Monday.

Oh, and, did I mention that my entire family is coming up to visit from California on Friday?

Needless to say, I'm not going to be spending much in the way of time bloggin until the middle of next week. In the mean time, I do have a lovely little series in the can ready to go. So, without further ado, here is the first in a multi-part series I'd like to call "Best TV Theme Songs."

Tonight's entry is by far one of the best, and most riveting opening theme songs ever orchestrated. I write, of course, about SWAT:



As a five-year-old in the mid-70s, this song could wind me up to a degree that raw sugar could only dream about...