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July 29, 2004: To My Totally Awesome Wife On Our Fourth Anniversary I’m sorry I yelled when I dropped the paint on the rug today. I’m sorry I spaced out this evening while Seth screamed and yelled for his daddy. I’m sorry I taught Seth to wave his right arm to denote how awful his and everyone else’s poop smells. I’m sorry I encouraged Seth to use the word “bub” to signify your boobs (and my mom’s). I’m sorry I haven’t been in the best mood today. And I’m sorry that we have to wait until tomorrow to begin our official celebration of our anniversary, and that we’ll probably worry about Seth while he visits his grandparents over the weekend. But I’m not sorry I married you, and I love you very much. Happy Fourth Anniversary! July 27, 2004: Three Blue Bogs R.I.P. Planted with pride three months earlier, bogs expire on eve of Democratic convention. BY EC WEST VIRGINIA (Donutbuzz.com) -- Call it a brown thumb. Nothing grows in the garden beneath Hoyt and Melanie’s front window. “We planted these three blue bogs in April. Now they’re dead,” said Hoyt. “I don’t understand it. It usually takes at least a year for our plants to turn brown and croak.” The three blue bogs, purchased from Lowe’s in mid-April, are now three, very brown bogs. Their condition puzzles the donutbuzz family, who on the same day also lost a green trash can to the garbage collectors. “I don’t know why the trash guys took that green, plastic container. It looked much better than the bogs,” Hoyt stated. “Luckily, we found the receipts for our plants when we cleaned the room for Lydia, and we’ll be able to return the plants to Lowe’s.” When asked how the family would spend the eighteen dollars and thirty-seven cents, Hoyt replied, “We’ll probably use it to buy another trash can because we have better luck with those.” July 25, 2004: Preparing Lydia’s Room It’s 3:21 p.m. and my wife and I are taking a break from the move. We’ve devoted at least five hours to preparing for Lydia’s arrival this November. Seth spent two and a half hours in his crib, which included his pitching a tantrum for nearly an hour before he decided to give up the battle and sleep. The houses in this neighborhood have thin walls, and our nearby residents must hate us and our child, especially if they planned on sleeping past 9:30 a.m. this morning. I don’t appreciate our neighbors’ dogs using our front yard as a repository for canine fecal matter, however, and I figure the karma evens out this way. Moving our computer, the guest bed, the file cabinet, the bookcases, the books, the knick-knacks, and the various chairs took longer than I expected. The most difficult task isn’t lugging the furniture down to the basement. It’s deciding what knick-knacks you want to keep--and where to keep the knick-knacks you don’t toss. When we decorated Seth’s room, I took pictures of it before and after the room’s renovation. I don’t have those pictures to post, however, because the digital camera we had then cost twenty-five dollars, and worked as well as you would expect a twenty-five dollar digital camera to work. If I had the pictures, the probability that I could load them onto our computer without its crashing is remote. After I post this essay, our next task is to tape the walls. With some luck, I may have time to paint the room tonight. By the way, if you’re wondering about the color we choose for Lydia’s room it’s “coconut cream” and is available at your local Wal*Mart (which now has stores within ten minutes of anyone, including “The Last American Man”). Of course, as of 3:41 p.m., Seth’s still crying and resisting sleep. I’m hoping that none of our neighbors have awful hangovers today. July 24, 2004: The Obligatory Ten Day Update If you’re a regular visitor to my site, you will notice I have not written an entry in over ten days, which marks the longest span between posts since I launched Donutbuzz. There are two reasons I have not posted in over a week: 1. The media center on our computer crashed on or about July 15, 2004, and I lost all data for this site I had created after April 30, 2004. 2. Seth can now traverse the entire first floor of our house in under eight seconds, and it takes two adults, two cats, and several Fisher-Price® toys to corral our little dude now. Having read the first reason, you may wonder “Why would the malfunction of the media center affect the maintenance of this website?” That’s because you know that anyone with the ability to operate a website and use html SHOULD HAVE THE SENSE TO BACKUP HIS SITE EVERY DAY AND SAVE A COPY TO DISC! But that would have entailed some thought on my part. And I don’t have time for detailed thought anymore because I’m a parent of a small child who enjoys being dragged across the house by the cat’s tail that he holds with his hands moist from crumbled, cookie residue. When the media center didn’t work, I restored the computer to the previous session when the media center functioned. That meant I had to take my computer “back in time.” It was like Marty McFly in “Back to The Future,” and the comparison was as follows: Marty McFly = Our media center Dr. Brown’s Delorean = Our computer I set our computer (Delorean) to a date of April 30, 2004, and sent our media center (McFly) back in time. McFly’s trip was a success. But in my haste to fix the problem, I had forgotten the cynosure of time travel: When you return to the past, things from the future don’t exist anymore. So I lost everything I wrote after April 30, 2004. This prompted me to wonder why didn’t McFly forget everything he learned when he traveled to 1955. Then I remembered that if logic doesn’t apply to any time travel films (or “Quantum Leap”), why should it apply to Windows either. After I lost most of my posts, I recovered them using a different method. I went online in the present, and copied them onto a disc as I should have done earlier. I was like Marty McFly with Professor Brown’s Delorean in the present except I didn’t need to go back in time to appreciate my family, and I still had my used 1999 Camry with an expired inspection sticker in our driveway. The last ten days resulted in some news I expected: 1. The couple arrested for wearing anti-Bush t-shirts prevailed, as I predicted, and the judge dismissed the case against them last week. 2. Ken Jennings remained champion on Jeopardy! 3. And on Friday, July 16, 2004, the ultrasound revealed the gender of our next child. It’s a girl!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! July 14, 2004: That Ain’t America The morning paper reported the arrest of a young couple during President Bush’s speech at the Capitol on July 4. I suspect that this link may not be active much longer, but you can read the details on what happened here. And what horrible act did this young couple perform, you ask? They wore t-shirts that displayed the message “Love America, Hate Bush.” They didn’t scream any profanities. They didn’t shout any protests. They didn’t utter any protests. They peacefully voiced their opinions on some fabric they wore. That’s it. “Love America, Hate Bush” isn’t obscene speech. It’s not comparable to someone who wears a jacket with a “Fuck the Draft” slogan emblazoned on the back. You would think that anyone stupid enough to wear a “Fuck the Draft” jacket in a county courthouse would deserve an arrest, right? WRONG. The United States Supreme Court decided that you could wear a “Fuck the Draft” jacket in a county courthouse back in 1971. I was four years old in 1971, and our television only received five stations, including PBS. Back then, school children didn’t wear t-shirts to school because t-shirts cost only a couple dollars, and had not yet attained their cultural status. In 1971, t-shirts and jackets with the “f word” were not yet the fashion statements they would become when Corporate America™ realized the ridiculous profits it could reap by charging people to advertise their brands. More important, Corporate America™ had not yet understood the power of the “f word” either, or its commercial potential to sell tickets to R-rated movies. You can understand why using the word “f word” on a jacket represented such a big deal to people in 1971. Had this couple worn t-shirts displaying “Don’t Fuck With Texas” on them last week, I suspect they wouldn’t have worn handcuffs on that sweltering Fourth of July. That’s because our President is from Texas, and nobody gives a flying fuck if you use the “f word” anymore. (“Scarface” took care of that for us). But it should bother you that the law enforcement anywhere would arrest someone for peacefully expressing their opinions--and without colorful language. As a lawyer, I’ve read the United States Constitution. I’ve also read hundreds of cases interpreting the Constitution. And, quite frankly, I’m having a difficult time explaining how our local law enforcement--or our government--can arrest a young couple for wearing t-shirts on public property during a speech by the President on the Fourth of July when the evidence is that the couple did nothing to disrupt the speech and posed no danger to anyone. When I watched the news tonight, it reported the police charged the couple with “disrupting the peace” and “trespass.” Both of the charges are bogus, and when the ACLU finishes the defense of this couple, I’m confident that the court will toss this case. But that doesn’t solve the problem the next time some local law enforcement officials decide to silence speech that they don’t like. And it’s not only speech that the Bush administration wants to silence. It wants to prohibit gay marriage. I’ve spoken with several people about this issue, and I have yet to meet anyone who can explain how gay marriage undermines a union between a heterosexual man and woman. Everyone I’ve spoken to thinks the idea of an amendment to our Constitution to “protect” the sanctity of heterosexual marriage is ridiculous. I have to agree, and to devote further space to explaining why serves no purpose but to lend credence to the ridiculous proposition itself. So I’ll stop. As I see it, the presidential election this year is a referendum on tolerance for others and their views. Bush’s administration has shown more disregard for the rights of the American people than any administration I’ve seen. Whether my opinion reflects the majority or the minority of the people is a decision left for the first Tuesday in November this year. And this time, I hope I’m in the majority. July 13, 2004: Is It A Boy Or A Girl? On Friday, my wife will undergo another ultrasound. If it goes as planned, we’ll know the gender of our second child. If it doesn’t go as planned, we’re still decorating another room for the new baby. Last February, I painted Seth’s room blue. Wait, that’s not true. The color of paint I applied to the walls is called “Woodlawn Angel Blue.” It took most of the day to coat the walls of his room. Then, his mom and I painstakingly stenciled a road around Seth’s room. And over the road, we painted several cars, trucks and school buses. I counted them last year, but I don’t remember how many vehicles we painted. Seth’s asleep, and I cannot count them now either. But I believe the number was close to thirty. I completed the room when I added five planes (complete with puffs of exhaust smoke and clouds) over the traffic. I didn’t count the hours we spent preparing Seth’s room, but I’m confident it took at least twenty or more hours. Melanie and I were pleased with results, especially considering we didn’t spend an exorbitant amount of money designing the room. If we were on “Trading Spaces,” I know we would exploit the complete potential of the measly thousand dollars they give each team to renovate a room. But with our luck, if we applied for that show, they’d assign us Doug or Frank as our leader, and the other team would get Vern, our favorite designer. I suppose that would be fine because Vern succeeds best with his designs. I don’t want to apply for “Trading Spaces” because if I’m going to appear on television, it’s going to be on a game show, preferably “Jeopardy.” Hopefully, by the time I muster the courage to apply, and receive an invitation to appear on the show, that Ken Jennings will have finished his obliteration of the competition, and I’ll have a chance to answer a few questions without embarrassing myself too much. My prediction is that Ken will still be champion by the time we find out the answer to the question of the gender of our next child. July 10, 2004: Sometimes I Hate The Practice Of Law Hypothetical Defense Attorney: “Do you allege that the conduct of my client injured you?” Hypothetical Plaintiff: “Yes, I do.” Hypothetical Attorney: “How do you know it was the conduct of my client that injured you?” Hypothetical Plaintiff: “Common sense. Your client makes widgets, widgets cause the type of injury I have, and I worked for your client for over twenty-four years.” Hypothetical Defense Attorney: “But I want to know what leads to your belief that your injuries were caused by my client.” Hypothetical Plaintiff: “I told you. I worked for your client. Your client’s product causes the injuries I sustained.” Hypothetical Defense Attorney: “What I want to know is what leads you to believe that my client’s product caused your injuries?” Hypothetical Plaintiff’s Lawyer: “Objection. Asked and Answered. (To the Plaintiff: “You may answer the question.”) Hypothetical Plaintiff: I told you it’s common sense. It’s all over the news that widgets cause the type of problems I have. Hypothetical Defense Attorney: “What news are you talking about?” Hypothetical Plaintiff: “The newspapers, the television, and I’ve talked with my friends about it.” Hypothetical Rookie Defense Attorney: “What are their names?” Hypothetical Plaintiff: “I don’t remember their names.” Hypothetical Defense Attorney: “You don’t remember their names?” Hypothetical Plaintiff: “No. I’ve been testifying for over five hours, my brain is dead, and I can’t remember them.” Hypothetical Defense Attorney: “Why don’t we take a break, then, and let’s see if you can remember their names, ok?” Hypothetical Plaintiff: “No. Let’s go on. I’ll give the names to my counsel here when I remember them.” Hypothetical Plaintiff’s Lawyer: “We’ll provide the names when he remembers them.” Hypothetical Defense Attorney: “Other than the fact that you worked for the company, and have heard about alleged injuries from the media and friends, what is the basis for your belief that my client’s product caused your injuries?” Hypothetical Plaintiff’s Lawyer: “Objection. How long are we going to beat this dead horse?” Hypothetical Defense Attorney: “I haven’t received an answer to my question. If you want the court reporter can read the transcript back.” Hypothetical Plaintiff’s Lawyer: “We’ve been in here five hours, he’s answered the question, and. . .” Hypothetical Defense Attorney: “He HASN’T answered the question, I want to know what the basis for his belief that my client’s product caused his injuries. . .” Hypothetical Plaintiff’s Lawyer: “Ask the question.” Hypothetical Defense Attorney: “I forgot the question. . . let’s have the court reporter read it back. . .” Whereupon, the court reporter read the Hypothetical Defense Attorney’s question back: Other than the fact that you worked for the company, and have heard about alleged injuries from the media and friends, what is the basis for your belief that my client’s product caused your injuries? Hypothetical Plaintiff: “That’s my basis.” Hypothetical Defense Attorney: “So, other than the fact that you worked for my client, and heard about your alleged injuries being caused by my client’s widget from the media and your friends, you have no evidence that my client’s product caused your injuries?” Hypothetical Plaintiff: (Turns to his counsel and gives him the “Can you believe this guy” look). “I told you it’s common sense.” Hypothetical Defense Attorney: “But other than what you told me, you have no actual evidence that my client’s widget caused your injuries, right?” Hypothetical Plaintiff’s Lawyer: “Note my objection. Again. This has been asked and answered.” Hypothetical Defense Attorney: “I want an answer.” Hypothetical Plaintiff: “I don’t know how much clearer I can be. I worked for your client for twenty-four years, your client’s product causes my type of injury, and that’s my belief.” Hypothetical Defense Attorney: “But you have no proof other than your belief that my client’s product caused your injuries?” Hypothetical Plaintiff: “My doctor told me that my injuries were caused by your client’s product.” Hypothetical Plaintiff’s Counsel: (Thinking to himself, “Why doesn’t Hypothetical Defense Attorney finish this grill session, and schedule the doc’s depo?”). To Defense Attorney: “You have a copy of that report.” Hypothetical Defense Attorney: “Yes, but I want to know the basis for the Plaintiff’s belief because he’s filed the Complaint.” Hypothetical Plaintiff’s Lawyer: “And he’s testified about the basis of his belief. Repeatedly.” Hypothetical Defense Attorney: “Other than the fact that you worked for my client, and what you’ve heard in the media, or from friends, or from your doctor, do you have any evidence for the basis of your belief that my client’s conduct caused your injuries.” Hypothetical Plaintiff: “That’s it. Ok?” Our hypothetical deposition ends two hours later, and Hypothetical Plaintiff’s Lawyer develops a fever of 101.5 degrees. He stays in bed that weekend. July 7, 2004: A Parenting Lesson This week, I had planned writing about Seth’s newest tricks, but the past two days have been a nightmare, and I’m exhausted. How exhausted am I? I wore a short-sleeved shirt, shirt and sandals too large for my feet to the office yesterday. I slept only a couple hours Monday night, and my wife’s not due to deliver our second child until November! Here’s the short version: On Monday evening, after his mommy left the house, Seth pitched his worst tantrum since we took him home from the hospital. When I offered him milk, he took one sip, and then renewed his cries. I decided to prepare him for bed, and when I felt his forehead, I knew Seth had a fever. Seth didn’t appreciate the method I used to confirm his temperature, either. He then embarked on a louder series of cries. Then he screamed, and if you’re a parent, or plan to become one, then you should understand that a baby’s scream is like no other scream you’ve heard; it’s much worse than any Howard Dean scream. And if our military were ever to employ the blare of baby screams in battle, I would wager it would be more effective in diminishing an adversary’s morale than blasting “Nowhere to Run” by Martha and the Vandellas. Should the military decide to record a baby’s scream, I recommend that it “loop” the sound. This is because after about ten minutes of prolonged screaming, our baby’s breathing became labored, which caused this father to panic, which further increased his baby’s screams. It was a vicious circle, indeed. Then Seth vomited, and I really freaked out. I will spare you the further specifics, but I will mention that eight minutes after she left, my wife called me on the cell phone to see how Seth and I were doing. I told my wife to come home. Had our cell phone not worked, it wouldn’t have mattered because I think that she could have heard the screams in South Charleston. The lesson is simple: Make sure that your child is in bed before his mommy leaves for the night. July 5, 2004: Ain’t That America As Seth prepares for his role as the “big brother,” he’s honing his cuteness. Seth has several tricks he performs for us, but not always for company. This past weekend, while my wife’s family and I dined on Subway sandwiches, Seth’s grandmother, grandfather, aunts, and uncles encouraged him to demonstrate his new dance move. He didn’t oblige them. The day wasn’t a total loss, however, because Seth loves the attention the family gives him, and anyone who wanted his autograph could have asked him and he wouldn’t have complained--which is exactly how Pvt. Jessica Lynch responded when several townsfolk approached her for her autograph in the town’s parade. In case you missed it, the town of Elizabeth, West Virginia had a parade on July 3. I almost did actually, and had my wife’s aunt not found me that afternoon, I might still be roaming the Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention there were several Shriners in go-karts riding around in a circle at the parade. But I figured that most of you had added that in your picture. July 1, 2004: “Fahrenheit 9/11” Michael Moore’s “Fahrenheit 9/11” finally reached the local theater here in my town. I have awaited the release of the film for several weeks, and Jason and I watched a matinee of it yesterday. I love this film, and I applaud Michael Moore’s polemic against the war military action in Iraq. That I love this film should not surprise anyone who knows me because: 1) I’ve enjoyed Michael Moore’s films since I first saw “Roger and Me” with my father fifteen years ago; 2) I own two of Michael Moore’s tomes, “Downsize This” and “Stupid White Men”; 3) And I believe a democracy cannot succeed if it does not allow its citizens to question or petition their government. Not everyone likes Michael Moore, and on some days, a search for “miserable failure” on Google returns a result for his homepage. Not everyone likes George W. Bush either, and today he and Jimmy Carter are the top two “miserable failures” according to a couple hundred Google whackers, who based on Google’s amazing search algorithms speak for the millions of net denizens now. (I’ve already addressed this here). Although Moore’s film established a record gross for a documentary this week (over twenty-million dollars), most people familiar with his work have decided whether they will see the film. People who enjoy his scathing satire, like me, will rush to see “Fahrenheit 9/11.” And those who don’t appreciate Moore’s attacks on our president will condemn the film, and dismiss it as a waste of celluloid. That this film has inspired such rabid reaction from both supporters and detractors of Moore is wonderful, I think, because the controversy reflects the robust debate that is the lifeblood of our democracy. Several months ago, controversy exploded over the release of Mel Gibson’s “The Passion Of The Christ.” Although I had no plan to see the film in its theatrical release, I explained that others must respect Gibson’s right to express his religious views--even if they disagree with them. Of equal importance is the respect and tolerance others must display for people who do not share their same beliefs. The controversy over Gibson’s film did not hurt its box office performance, and the film has generated domestic receipts over 370 million dollars. That’s more than any other film released this year in America--except for Shrek II, which I did see, and makes me wonder: Did any churches sponsor trips to take their congregations to see Princess Fiona meet her parents? But I digress. When “The Passion” played here, many people urged others to see the film. They explained that this film would change your life. They wanted others to share the experience they had when they watched the flick. That didn’t change my desire to see the film. With the restricted time available for watching films now, I have to exercise my selections carefully. The film was also violent, and my wife didn’t want to see that. I suspect that many people who wanted to see “The Passion” did. Others like me, who did not want to see the film probably avoided it. If I told you that Moore’s “Fahrenheit 9/11” is a film you must see, that’s not going to change your decision to see this film. You either support Moore and his dissent or you don’t. To paraphrase another great dissenter, Eldridge Cleaver, who always challenged The Man™, you either believe Michael Moore’s “Fahrenheit 9/11” is “part of the problem or part of the solution.” And, if anything, his film, and the reaction to it, proves that even after the tragic events of September 11, 2001, our country still hasn’t healed. All written material ©2004-207 by HEG.
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