Odds And Ends

Item 1:

Juries in this county are, for the most part, intelligent. They are, in fact, probably more intelligent and better educated than juries in most of the other counties of this state. Unfortunately, they are also satanically sadistic motherfuckers.

The trial is over. It's not so much that I lost, as it is, the jury was simply pissed off and found a way to punish every single party and attorney involved. They spread the pain like pavement, and there was nothing like having my boss's most-lucrative client sitting in the gallery behind me when the verdict was read.

Item 2:

Get back on the horse...

One of the very best ways to overcome a disappointing trial verdict, is to run right back down to court the day after trial and argue a motion that is sure to win. However, running right back down to court the day after trial, arguing said motion, and in fact losing the sure-thing motion, does NOTHING for one's self-esteem.

Item 3:

Of course the only surefire cure for the litigation blues is a healthy dose of Monkey Therapy.

If you don't happen to have one of your own, you're welcome to borrow mine. (Assuming I know you of course, and further assuming you're not totally creepy...)

Which leads to my fourth and final item...

Item 4:

You can never have too many monkeys.

Well, OK, maybe you can. However, as the old saying goes, two monkeys are better than one...

Yes, the gin-&-tonic monkey (pictured above) is going to be a big sister. Mighty seed has once more issued from my loins. Mrs. G&T is thoroughly knocked-up, and I have it on good authority that I am very likely the father.

We are not so far along that I can tell you what it's going to be. However, we are far enough along that I can tell you it has a head, a heart beat, two arm buds and two leg buds. And that is good enough for now.

I will say this, and I apologize to you folks who have heard it already. Just after making the first announcement a few years ago, when we were expecting the Monkey, I was told by another lawyer friend of mine that I was going to have a girl. "Why do you say that?" I asked.

"Because you look like the father of girls," he said.

Funny, but later, it got creepy when he told his partner that I was going to be a father. "It'll be a girl," said the partner,

"Right! Right! But WHY do you say that?" asked my friend.

"Because he looks like the father of girls," said the partner, and the father of a girl I am. Does this mean that I am destined to be the father of two girls? Perhaps, though I don't stake much faith in such superstitious hobgoblinry. Boy. Girl. Whichever. I'm just holding out for healthy, happy, and smarter than dear old dad.