Gentle Reader -- You are welcome to peruse my web-based journal. I assure you that my contributions to this medium will be both infrequent and inconsequential. Read on!

MERRY CHRISTMAS

To all who celebrate. posted by Carlton at 12:22 AM

LOTT'S OUT

But, interestingly enough, still a U.S. Senator.

And I hear that his wife was turned into a pillar of salt. posted by Carlton at 11:54 AM

HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?

*The Two Towers* ("TTT") has been in theaters for almost an entire day now, and I haven't seen it. What's more, I have no plans to see it until at least Monday. It's out there to be had, and I can't have it. Despair.

Ms. Twink and I have made a deal: After I get back from Mississippi, she and I will sit down and watch *Fellowship* together (previous attempts have gone awry, due to forces beyond our control). If she's interested, we'll go see TTT together. If she isn't, I won't bug her about it any more. I don't demand that she share my geek passions. I didn't insist that we see *Star Trek: Nemesis* (which I may not even see -- that franchise is played, man)

I mean, there's always *Gangs of New York*, right? posted by Carlton at 6:38 PM

THE COUNCIL OF TRENT

Believe it or not, I have some observations about this whole Trent Lott thing. They revolve around the fact that Lott is a politician at the national level from Mississippi.

1. Politician: Trent should know better? Like very other white politician in the South in his generation, he's made his career by speaking in code that white voters understand and black voters ignore. In Strom's day, you could hit an audience with the n-bomb and pick up votes by the bushel basket. Today, we can all thank the Lord that such language has become unacceptable, even though the sentiment has not. What is the sentiment? Whites up, blacks down. It's that simple.

2. National Level: Trent's big problem is that, now that he's a big muckety muck in Washington, people outside of his constituency actually listen to him. Whether or not a senator from Mississippi is enlightened and progressive about racial issues is a different question than the same one asked about the Senate Majority Leader. Sure he's made the same remark before, perhaps several times. The difference was that no one cared if he was a redneck when he was just one of a hundred. Now that he's NUMBER one of a hundred, it's a little different.

3. Mississippi: Let's face it: It's pretty difficult to find a 60-ish white man from Mississippi who doesn't have some pretty backward ideas about race. Trent gets on my nerves, really, and he seems to be politically tone deaf (case in point, and anyone remember Jim Jeffords?), but he's just a product. Maybe the next generation of senator from Mississippi will be as much better than Trent as Trent is better than Strom. Mississippi needs a strong senator (it needs a lot of things), and it needs to confront its racial divisions. As reluctant as I am to say it, Trent needs to stay if only to be an emblem of what lies beneath the surface. Putting somebody else in his chair would just be painting over the rot.

Finally: Trent? Thad? Strom? Carlton? Where do Southerners GET these names? posted by Carlton at 6:04 PM

MORE RANDOMNESS

1. I'm sure everyone is waiting to hear what I have to say about Al Gore deciding not to run this time. I'm disappointed, (though not as much as these folks) but I understand why he might have made this decision. I also understand why he might have made the decision the other way, which I wish he would have done. I hope he stays in the public eye, however -- maybe he's best suited to be a gadfly to the current administration than a candidate. He was funny on SNL as Trent Lott!

2. Speaking of Trent, I am about to bust a gut laughing at what has happened to him. The Southern political watchword of the last 30 years or so (my life, basically) has been this: Keep It Quiet. Trent Lott is a racist, segregationist throwback mutant? KIQ. Mississippi has literacy, infant mortality and human rights statistics equivalent to some former Soviet republics? KIQ. My hometown's once fine school district has gone to hell for the SOLE reason that the white parents think the racial makeup of the school their children attend is more important than its quality? KIQ. The Southerners I have spoken to on this issue are very disappointed in Trent -- that he said what he said OUT LOUD. "Such bad publicity," they say. "This makes us look terrible."

Friends, we ARE terrible. Let it all hang out and maybe something will change.

3. Still no update about the anonymous mail. I'm guessing that this (dumb) mystery will remain unsolved. So . . . OK.
(A shout-out to my dear and beautiful friend who is officially no longer a suspect -- you weren't the only person I asked!)

posted by Carlton at 4:28 PM

MAMA SPELL

I just received a copy of "Stories With No Morals", the new CD by my friend Sharon Spell. Sharon is an old, old acquaintance of mine, and it has been a blast from the past to get aload of her website.

Let me tell you about my relationship with Sharon (d/b/a "Mama") Spell. Sharon and I were best friends long about Junior High School. Our parents were friends, our brothers and sisters were friends (to varying degrees), and we were friends. We hung around together, we went to (and made fun of) church together. We were two kids who didn't quite fit in with the world but who got along with each other. We made each other laugh, we enjoyed many of the same cultural artifacts, etc. I really liked Sharon, and I think its fair to say that she liked me. She was always a very talented artist, while I was mostly talented at cracking wise.

Somewhere in there, we had a falling out. Once we made it into high school, we were pretty much on the outs all the time. Exactly why that was the case is difficult to pin down -- I'm sure I did some insensitive things, and I tried to go out with almost every single one of her friends at one time or another (all of whom, wisely, rejected me). Sharon had some hard times; she had a serious accident, and she still feels the effects (see her page for that story; it's hers, not mine). But kids are selfish -- it's hard to be very empathetic when you're wrapped up in your own tiny world.

Eventually, we reached the point where we couldn't stand each other, with the acrimony that only former friends can have. We went to college together, in our same little hometown. As luck would have it, we even had some of the same friends (Greg, for example). There was a long time when we wouldn't even speak to each other, even if we ended up sitting at the same table in the dining hall. One of us would ask to pass the salt, the other would sit there, stone-faced, staring at the table.

The next phase was perhaps even worse: we made up. Sometime around our junior year, we had this excruciating Conversation of Reconciliation on the telephone, in which we agreed that this had gone on for too long, and that we should at least be civil to one another. That started our Cold War of politeness, when we would go out of our way to be nice to one another. There was this class that she needed notes for, so I made a point of giving her mine, and she made a point of retuning them to me in a timely manner, and there was much "thank you!" and "how nice!" to be spread around. It was awful.

Then I left Hattiesburg, and she left Hattiesburg as well. I ended up as a lawyer in Boston. Sharon is a performance artist/comedienne/singer in Pittsburgh. She's married to a man I hear (through my mom, who knows her mom) is very nice. She has just produced an album (comedy? music?), which I have just received; I haven't yet been able to listen to it.

What's the point of all this? Simply put, I wish her well. I'm sorry we couldn't get along -- I think it may be that we were too much alike.

Update: The "Hattiesburg Song" was certainly a hoot! It cracked me up. posted by Carlton at 7:15 PM

OUTAGE

I arrived home last night to find that I had no electricity. It was late, and I had been rained on and blown about by gusts of our finest wind. I was in no mood for this.
So, I checked the breakers, which were in their normal position. I called the power company, which is called N*Star (formerly Boston Edison?).

"I have no power," I said to the woman. She asked my phone number, and my address. Then she asked for my Social Security number, and my employer's name.
"Why do you want to know all this?" I asked.
"You're applying for credit so we can open an account for you." She said. "We turned off the power because there was no name on that account."
"Whose name used to be on it?" I asked. The woman said the name of my former tenant, who lived in the place for six months before me.

Friends, I have been living in this apartment for NINETEEN MONTHS without paying electricity bills. What's more, I never received any bills, or any notices of any kind. Maybe I should have checked, but it honestly never occurred to me to check up on bills that I never received.

There should be power at my place now, I hope. I had to get dressed by flashlight this morning.

ANONYMOUS UPDATE

No news. I wish someone would let me in on the little joke . . .

posted by Carlton at 7:13 PM

TO MY MYSTERIOUS CORRESPONDANT

Thank you for the postcards! I have no way of really knowing whether they are from one person or two, since the handwriting differs on both cards, and the writing on the envelope that one came in is in yet a third hand. I think of you as one person, however, and a thoughtful one!

I appreciate the photo and quote from Nelson Mandela -- I too would like for this to be a season of peace. And of course, the picture of the Buff-bellied Hummingbird, native of the Rio Grande Valley of South Texas (where this card was evidently posted) is most impressive. He's small but fierce, you can tell! And I can always use the encouragement that you offer, to work hard and fly straight! Good advice, good advice!

(Yes, friends, I am receiving anonymous postcards. Yes, this is a little freaky.) posted by Carlton at 8:45 PM

DEFINITIONS

Twink: What . . . you mean, other than this?

And a shout out to Danny Mo, while we're at it! posted by Carlton at 10:30 PM

HAPPY BIRTHDAYS

To Greg, whom I cannot call, and to Marcia, whom I called but cannot reach. posted by Carlton at 5:46 PM

A MASTERPIECE OF SCHOLARSHIP AND PROSE

"ARTICLE 1. I give and bequeath all my tangible personal property to my wife, Sally Sue Smith, if she survives me or, if she fails to survive me, in substantially equal shares to those of my sons who survive me, the spouses who survive me of any of my sons who fail to survive me and, if the spouse of any such son also fails to survive me, the issue who survive me of any such son who fails to survive me, such issue to take by right of representation the share such deceased son would have taken had such son survived me."

Yeah, baby. posted by Carlton at 1:29 PM

RANDOM NOTES

It is snowing here in Massachusetts. It is supposed to snow all night, and make it difficult to get around in the morning. Some of the night staff at my firm didn't make it in because of the weather. Fascinating to all you folks out there in Colorado, Wisconsin and Indiana, probably buried under six feet of snow right now.

My brother (Kris) and his girlfriend (Chris) were in town last week. They were only in Boston for one day only, so they chose to go out sightseeing in the blinding snow. Neither of them had a hat or gloves. Neither had brought a decent coat. It was 67 degrees in Hattiesburg yesterday.

Everyone should notice that I have links (!) off to the left under my archives. Why it took me almost a year to figure out how to do that, I don't know. This is just one small step in my plan of world-domination . . .
(Greg, I'd link to your page if you just posted every now and then!) My internet life is really pretty boring, I guess. As is my regular life! I'm so dull, I expect the gears in my brain to just grind to a halt any second now.

I'm pleased to say that Ms. Twink is back from London. It was a tough week without her. I have come to rely very heavily on her company, considering the short time that we've been together. I expect the whole business to come to a crashing halt any day now. (Actually, our contract is up for renewal Saturday night at midnight . . . I just hope we don't have a strike on our hands!)

Al Gore in '04: Check
Christmas '02 in Mississippi: Check posted by Carlton at 11:03 PM

NAIVETE?

Someone (and I'm naming no names -- Nichole) has been running down my boy Al Gore. Actually, there are a lot of people running down Al Gore these days, which I think is just a shame. About 6 years ago, I heard him speak in Nashville, and at that time I decided that Al would one day be president of the United States. During that speech, he was everything that he failed to be during the 2000 campaign -- at ease, charismatic, funny. He even did an Elvis impression.

I think it was a crime what happened to Al during the 2000 campaign -- but I have to admit, Mr. Gore was at least an accessory to that crime. He let the other side paint a picture of him, and he had to keep comparing himself to that picture. The media was to blame of course, but in the same way that the loaded gun is to blame for the murder. The media didn't kill Al, Al killed Al. He looked bad, very bad. The media is a monster with no brain -- but it knows juicy fresh meat when it smells it. The media goes to the candidate who can serve up the bloodiest steak. Al was serving up tofu pups.

Here's where my naivete comes in. I believe that the media has been unfair to Al Gore, not because on any inherent bias to the right or left, but because of superior politicking (potlicking?) on the part of the Plutocrats. I have this faith, however, that if a major party candidate gets up in front of the mic and says something, expresses a clear message that everyone can understand and most people can agree with, the people of this country will hear the message and make up their own minds. The television talking heads are the little yapping dogs of journalism -- they jump on the dog that's down only after he's down. If a strong candidate comes out of the Democratic party such as I've described, we will be surprised at how quickly the winds will begin to blow in the other direction.

And maybe that candidate is Al Gore. I'd like for it to be. posted by Carlton at 10:09 PM

THE THING IS

I have spent yesterday and today doing a lot of writing, which I haven't done in a long time. For a while now, I have wanted to get back into doing something creative, but had a hard time settling on what. I have chunks of several pieces of fiction laying around; if they were cars, they would be up on blocks in my front yard. My poetry is embarassingly bad -- not even I want to read it. I spend all day in front of the computer, for one reason or another -- it is difficult to come home and crank out anything voluntary. Writing in this space is often a challenge. So, we'll see.

The writing I did today is, of course, crap. You have to let the tap run for a little while before you drink. posted by Carlton at 7:10 PM

HUH

Looks like this site comes up as hit number SIX under a Dogpile search for "woman's vest". WTF? posted by Carlton at 11:12 AM

TAKE THE LAST TRAIN TO TWINKSVILLE, AND I'LL MEET YOU AT THE STATION

Greetings to Ms. Twink, courtesy of the good people at Hallmark. posted by Carlton at 9:27 PM

MERRY CHRISTMAS, MR. POTTER

Laurie Anderson once sang: "I met a guy, and I thought to myself, 'he looks like a hat check clerk at an ice rink.' And that's exactly what he was." There is a certain feeling that you get when you approach something unknown with a preconceived idea about what it will be like, and it turns out to be exactly what you thought. I saw the latest Harry Potter movie today (by myself, since everyone is out of town this weekend), and I had this feeling. I was not surprised, either pleasantly or unpleasantly. It was fair.

I haven't seen the first movie, not have I read even a word on Ms. Rowling's prose. My nephew read me a paragraph of the blurb on the dust jacket on Friday, just to prove that he could (he is seven years old), and that's the extent of my Harry Potter experience. Even the darkness of my ignorance is a sort of twilight, however, since it's been difficult to live in the world and not pick up some details. English boy, school of wizards, wands, game you play on broomsticks, various sidekicks with funny names -- put checks by all of those.

My friends and family, all of whom have read at least one of the books, have all raved about the movie. I expected to walk in there and be entertained, but not to really 'get' the thing -- there are details, story elements, characters that I just don't know anything about. And I was right! The movie moved along at a sprightly pace, was alternately amusing and exciting, as everyone had told me. At the end, however, I had to give it a shrug. What's all the fuss about? I was left flat, I have to say.

So, the Carlton rating for this movie is two crowns (out of five), which makes it not a waste of your money to go see in the theatre. If you have read the books and enjoyed them, your rating would probably be higher.

FEAR

I went into a new Best Buy near here -- that place scares me. How can a television cost $10,000? posted by Carlton at 9:25 PM

RETURN OF THE JEDI

Anyone paying any attention to Al Gore lately?

posted by Carlton at 4:08 PM

THANKSGIVING

1. So, we're all heading up to Maine for the holiday. Might have more to say when that's over with.

2. Looks like I don't actually have to go to court on Friday after all, so my holiday weekend will be more or less uninterrupted.

3. Thanks to Scott for the blog advice!

4. Shout out to you-know-who in London! posted by Carlton at 11:14 AM

NICE

I think I will respond to this . . .

An anonymous commentator wrote (attempting to paraphrase me, I think):

My hot European ex-girlfriend, who I am still best buddies with has contacted ME because she still thinks about me daily, even though shes married. By the way shes smart as a whip, because shes getting her PhD, at some tony cracker-jack european university. Mothers love me, and they remember me too. As the one that got away from their daughters -- green card hopes eviscerated. Everyone I conscended to speak with at the esteemed University of Southern Mississippi showed how much better they were than the place...Look we can be snobs too, even though we went to one of the shittiest colleges in the country...Look they all made good...Look, I'm smart, at least I went to law school, and I'll use self-deprication to make it seem like I don't think its a big deal that now I write wills for a living

Well, Franziska is German, to be specific, and certainly attractive, and we went out for about a month one time, so sure. And I was very flattered to hear from her -- who wouldn't be? So yes, you hit it right there on the head -- right on the money, on the dot, smack dab in the middle of right on, sister. As far as hot European exes go, she's one. I have others (Kaliningrad is in Europe, even if Russia isn't, and Ireland is also). But I have someone who is taking all of my romantic attention, right now, so old flames are somewhat starved for air.

As for Southern . . . it's a school of modest achievement, to be sure, but it's taken me where I wanted to go, without breaking the bank like a Harvard (or Bates) would have. It was there that I learned to spell "condescended" properly. Heh.

Writing wills: it's nice work if you can get it, so get it if you can. There's also trusts, of course, and various other tax-saving devices.

And of course moms love me. I play very well among the 50 and-up female demographic.

Check y'all later. I have to go clean my apartment before Kris and Kris (my brother and his girlfriend) arrive. posted by Carlton at 7:09 PM

MY PEOPLE

So, I'm finding out about more and more readers. I may have as many as five or six! I'd have more if I just posted some Star Trek fan fiction. Damn.

So, Franziska is back on the scene, after a long haitus. I'm glad to hear that she's doing well, an old married lady in Munich, doin' her European Union policy thang. I understand that she will soon be Dr. Franziska -- congratulations! Say hi to your mom for me!

Soon I'll be the only person I knew in college who doesn't have a Ph.d. A J.D. doesn't count in those circles, I've found. No cachet. posted by Carlton at 12:56 PM

COURTESY OF MR. HSIEH

This is pretty good. posted by Carlton at 3:03 PM

I'M SURROUNDED

Where are all these random people coming from? I recently had to delete a number of posts with obscene words in them -- I'm a big boy, and all, but this is a family site. I notice that this page turns up pretty readily on a Google search for "Carlton King" (after the bed, though) -- but I doubt people are looking for me, specifically.

I put the Comments thing on here so that amigos and amigas could contact me . . . instead, people tell me that they read the site and only these anonymous yokels post. Whatever man . . .

Hi Franziska!

posted by Carlton at 12:05 PM

FEAR AND LOATHING

Is anyone else afraid that The Two Towers will suck? posted by Carlton at 10:34 PM

FILTHY LUCRE

So, I'm looking into buying a new place. I found one in a neighborhood of Boston known as Jamaica Plain that seems like a good deal -- lots of space, well-appointed, price is close to being right. It's not in the most convenient location I've ever seen, which means I'd probably end up taking a quick bus ride to the T every morning for work, and I'd have to drive (my new Mini Cooper S! -- once I get it) to the grocery store rather than walk, as I do now.

I rather enjoy the process of buying and selling things. Luckily, condos are not the kind of thing that one trades like baseball cards (at least this one doesn't). Having once owned, however, it becomes SO difficult to think about renting. I see some of you out there nodding your heads.

I'll keep everyone updated. posted by Carlton at 3:11 PM

PROVE ME WRONG

To that person or persons out there who was crititical of my being critical of George W. Bush and the Plutocrats, I have only one thing to say: prove me wrong. Two years from now, let this country be safer, more prosperous and less fearful than it is right now, and I'll vote for George Bush for a second term. If this administration can bring these things to pass, the it deserves four more years, frankly.

I feel confident in asserting, however, that Mr. Bush and his cronies have anything but those goals on their collective mind. In fact, I believe that the inner circle of those people whose advice in aggregate makes up the mind of the person we refer to as "George Bush" are planning a disastrous crusade which the United States cannot win, for which words such as "quagmire" and "mission creep" were coined, and which will leave our fine nation crippled in its wake. This is an administration which is already rapidly losing interest in Afghanistan; with an administrative attention span that is less than a year long and a commitment to eliminating the taxes which would fuel any long-term military endeavor, how can we hope to effectively manage a country like Iraq? posted by Carlton at 9:43 PM

CHECK ME OUT, AGAIN

Well, someone's reading.

To characterize George W. Bush and the Plutocratic party: they are wholly, completely and utterly devoted to furthering the causes of corporate America. Every economic, military and social goal that they put forth can be explained with this principle -- keep the poor down and the oil flowing, boys, both are fuel for the money machine!

No one can argue that this last election was anything other than a great victory for the Pluts. I anticipate -- having cast every ballot I could for the other side -- that the result of this victory is going to be a terrible dark age for our country, in which we decline in status in the world community and lose much of the freedom that has until now characterized us as a society whose priniples, at any rate, could be a model for peoples around the world. I fear those days may be coming to an end.

And it's not like I'm some great enemy of corporate America. Having a bit of my own lucre invested in an assortment of public companies, I think that the engines of capitalism can generate wealth for everyone who has $23.41 every so often to buy a share of GM -- one of the great things about this country. But Bush is a product of a system in which self-serving men with their hands on the levers of power can take my $23.41 and parcel it out amongst themselves and give me NOTHING in return. To hear him claim to act in the best interest of America, to hear him claim to be "compassionate" -- it boils my blood. Bush's people are used to stealing people's life's saving and also their lives, when it suits them. I don't like them.

I'm glad my anonymous foil out there voted. I hope she enjoys what comes next. posted by Carlton at 11:17 PM

CHECK ME OUT

Looks like everyone in America took my advice about giving George Bush and the Plutocrats what they wanted in the latest election. I must have a greater readership than I had thought. Hold on everyone, its going to be a rough ride. I expect more terrorism, fewer jobs, a purported permanent total repeal of the estate tax and a war in Iraq that will be quick and bloody followed by an occupation of Iraq that is longer and bloodier.

Had the Hooker Street Reunion this weekend in New Hampshire. Will perhaps write more about that later. posted by Carlton at 6:10 PM

MY FAVORITE RECLUSIVE OBSCURE WELSH POET

(Because everyone should have one . . . Just stopping in for a sec, by the way.)

The Bright Field
by R. S. Thomas

I have seen the sun break through
to illuminate a small field
for a while, and gone my way
and forgotten it. But that was the pearl
of great price, the one field that had
treasure in it. I realize now
that I must give all that I have
to possess it. Life is not hurrying

on to a receding future, nor hankering after
an imagined past. It is the turning
aside like Moses to the miracle
of the lit bush, to a brightness
that seemed as transitory as your youth
once, but is the eternity that awaits you.
posted by Carlton at 5:48 PM

A KISS BEFORE DYING

Greg's probably right -- I think I do know this person (esp since she emailed me to tell me that I know her). I don't really have any good ideas about who it might be, however.
I suppose it could be any of a number of people -- I've handed out the address of this page relatively freely, and it might turn up via some type of google search if someone were to care to look. Oh, and there are a number of folks out there who don't like me, old and new. Anyone who cares to inquire can do so at dontsilencetheraven@yahoo.com (if I got that right -- I deleted the message).

"The Raven" notwithstanding, though, I haven't been very good about doing the blog thing lately, and my long silences have probably discouraged anyone who did read this space. So, I won't go through the motions of banning the raven merely to have her pick a new moniker, etc. She wins! See y'all -- maybe later in the season.

If my new thing comes together, I'll let folks know.

Carlton W. King, Esq. posted by Carlton at 11:44 AM

HEY

I think I'm going on hiatus for a while. The external life is much more interesting than the internal, at least for the moment. Anyone who wants can reach me at carltonwking@yahoo.com in the interim. I'Il continue to read others' blogs, however.

Thinking about a new internet project, which would involve a bit more technical expertise than I currently have . . . got to go study on that one. . posted by Carlton at 7:12 PM

THE PARTY

The rest of the party story is pretty simple: quite accidentally, I became horribly, insensibly, profoundly drunk. I blame it on the "jungle juice" promulgated at the party -- whereas it SHOULD have been a combo of vodka and Kool-aid, I suspect it was more a combo of vodka and Kool-aid MIX -- not too much water in there. A couple of red plastic cups full and I was suddenly hammered. Anyway, my lovely new friend Molly was very nice and kept me company -- standing with me in the kitchen while I clung to the sink and drank glass after glass of tap water. I kept saying things to her, and she kept replying. "Yeah, you said that ten times already." Ouch. She took care of me, walked me the few blocks to my house, gave me water and aspirin and put me to bed. That's a good woman.

MINNESOTA

I wish I lived in Minnesota, just so I could vote for Walter Mondale. I remember his campaign in 1984; the one thing I remember is that he acknowleged that it might be necessary to raise taxes at some point, which is what cost him the presidency, I think. That may not be a totally accurate summary of the campaign, but it's what I remember.

BUSH

OK -- can we acknowledge that the good people of this country who are opposing George Bush are really protecting him from himself? By moderating (to an extent) his evil schemes for turning our nation wholly over to corporate interests, we may be making his presidency palatable for the voting public. Some contrarian part of me wants to follow the Give Him What He Wants plan. Let him cut taxes to the bone and eviscerate social services. Let him clear cut our national forests and poison our streams and lakes and air. Let him send our boys to war in Iraq and cause the entire world to rise up against us. Let him do that (he is our president, after all) and just see what happens. Let's see how we like it.

The problem is that Bush wants to make messes that can't be cleaned up. posted by Carlton at 10:12 AM

HOWDY ALL

Went to a big Halloween party this weekend at 99 Hooker -- the sixth annual, actually, although I've only been around for 5 (and I didn't go last year). This party is regarded by one and all to be THE party of the year -- when rambling old 99 Hooker is transformed into a gigantic party palace. Three bands in the basement (over the course of the evening), five kegs of pretty cheap beer, and a couple of hundred happening young people in costume. I was one of them, and my costume this year was a "robber" -- black flat cap, black "domino" mask, black turtleneck and trousers, and a big white bag with a giant "$" on it (the mask and the dollar sign were formerly a woman's vest that I purchased at a local thrift store). It was a pretty simple outfit, really, but everyone immediately knew who I was. Some people mistakenly called me the "Hamburgler", to which I responded with a good-natured "Rabble rabble".

This party is characterized by its darkness -- blacklights, strobe lights, little chili pepper christmas lights are all the illumination there is. Bands play in the basement, and are loud enough to hear all the way upstairs. The upper floors of the couse are bedrooms, which are usually closed off during the party.

I have been to four of these parties, and each one has had a very diffferent flavor. The first one was dominated by the fact that I had a fight with my girlfriend at the time involving how close I was standing next to an attractive classmate of mine in the kitchen. The second involved me falling over a barbed-wire fence in the neighbor's yard while dressed as a Mississippi state trooper -- requiring a visit to the clinic the next day. The third required me to explian to a real Boston cop why there was a high school girl throwing up in our front yard. despite the way this sounds, the party has always been a blast. There's drama, adventure, music etc.

This year was dominated by the fact that I became more drunk than I believe I ever have in the past.

More later . . . posted by Carlton at 9:09 PM

OFFICE POOL

We're having go at predicting the day that they announce the next big round of layoffs is happening here at the ol' Hutch. They went ahaead and told us it would be 'soon'. And the way they make it sound, it's going to be big. Half the remaining attorneys? Maybe not that many. Needless to say, the numbers are another topic of intense speculation. They actually made it sound like HWD is going to do the corporate equivalent of finding a quiet place to lie down, cover itself with its cloak and die.

I'm betting on tomorrow. Others are suggesting next week.

I wrote a long blog about the Hooker street party that I went to this weekend, but it disappeared. Rats. posted by Carlton at 9:53 AM

GOOD GOLLY

I've been off the blogging wagon for a while recently. I'm sorry to anyone who has an interest in reading what I'm writing here. I tend to do most of my writing when I have something to complain about -- and that hasn't been the case in a little while. Besides all the boring work stuff, I would like to mention that I have been keeping company with a very nice young woman for about 1 1/2 months now, and she has been a welcome distraction from my crappy internet life. Her name is Molly, which is propitious if you subscribe to the screwy superstition about the first letter of people's names the way I do (M is a very promising letter, or has been in the past, and she has no Ks in her name at all.) I met her through my connections at Hooker Street, the big filthy semi-commune where I lived during law school -- she moved out just before I moved in.

Maybe I'll write more about it later -- let it suffice that I'm pretty damned happy with the situation as it stands. posted by Carlton at 2:32 PM

LET'S PUT THE 'FUN' BACK IN 'FUNGIBLE'

Well, the Hutch (the law firm where I work) continues to destroy itself. The story up till now: After a round of layoffs last fall, most of us associates waited in fear for the ax to fall again. This summer, a significant segment of the firm (most of the corporate department) broke off to become the Boston office of a big New York firm. At the same time, the leaders of the rest of the Hutch announced that we would be merging our tattered remains with the Boston office of another national firm. That was all well and good, but it turned out that the national firm didn't want all of us, so on September 10 we had another round of layoffs. That will be the last of the layoffs, stated the management -- everyone left at the Hutch has a job at the new firm. Those of us that remained breathed a sigh of relief.

Just this Friday, two of our partners announced that they are leaving the Hutch for other firms (not the one we are merging with). They take their clients with them, of course, leaving all the associates that worked with these partners (many) without any work at all. Conventional wisdom states that 1) associates who did most of their work for these two partners will be laid off, and 2) any other partners that can cut deals for themselves elsewhere will do so.

Here's the thing, really -- I don't blame anyone for doing anything at this point. The Hutch is going down like the Lusitania and deserves no loyalty, and at this point anyone who can find a better deal for himself or herself at another place should do so. At the same time, do these people actually consider the repercussions of their decisions on their subordinates? Did Partner X think about Associates A, B and C, whom he has worked with for at least a few years, when making this deal for himself? Should he have? These are honest questions -- I'm not outraged by this development (mostly because it won't be me -- hopefully -- who loses his job), but I'd REALLY like to know what kind of people I am working for. I rather think that the partner did not consider his subordinates, and that they will lose their jobs. I learned a new word in law school which has come to my lips often in the last few months: "fungible." If a commodity is fungible it means that any one can be exchanged for any other one -- in a bucket of nails, for example, one nail is pretty much fungible for any other. One share of stock is fungible for any other share of the same class of the same stock.

Associates are fungible. One trait of a good associate is that his or her work is as close to indistinguishable from the work performed by another associate as possible -- no one picking up a memo written by associate A should be able to find anything distinctive about it that would indicate its authorship. Sometimes we are referred to (and refer to ourselves) as "billing units" -- cogs in the machine.

It's hard to even want to succeed after this hits home. posted by Carlton at 11:57 PM

YEAH, I KNOW

If I want people to read this space, it might be good if i occasionally post stuff here that is even remotely interesting. Well, I'd like to. Fact is that the most interesting thing that's happening in my life is still sort of a work-in-progress. I'd hate to jinx it by saying something too soon -- not that I believe in jinxes. More like, I just don't want to say something now and gnash my teeth in frustration upon reading it later. But . . . she is a very nice young woman, and I am very excited about having met her . . . .

posted by Carlton at 11:34 PM

Man, Greg is right -- I think the end of the world IS nigh. posted by Carlton at 11:24 PM

Oh, and it's fixed. Except the comments are in a deucedly awkward place. Like I said -- whatever. posted by Carlton at 5:09 PM

IT'S ALL EFFED UP AND I DON'T CARE

Yeah, I got about halfway through the YACCS fix, and now all my comments are gone. So what. I've got stuff goin' on, man. Too much stuff to let the YACCS get me down. posted by Carlton at 4:56 PM

SOMETHING IS AFOOT

How will this turn out? Only time will tell.

I am torn between optimism and pessimism. Bifurcated. Polarized. Reft in twain.

And to think that answers may come over a plate of chocolates . . . posted by Carlton at 11:17 PM

Smitten? posted by Carlton at 10:36 PM

THE GREAT MOON BOUNCE DISASTER OF '02

We had the 3d annual Johnny Waitkus Memorial Hooker Street Block Party on Saturday, and it was a hoot. There was laughter and tears, and near death experience.

The block party is the result of the efforts of my old housemate Keith Ladinsky, an amazing individual with an ability to motivate and organize people (in a relatively loose way, you understand) that really defies description. Keith was friends with Johnny when Johnny lived on Hooker Street -- Johnny is not dead, but only his memory remains there. That is a story too long for this entry.

So the block party is a big deal -- we block off the (dead end) street, we have food and alcohol, there is live music all day on a makeshift stage in someone's driveway. In order to make this enterprise a bit more family and a bit less seedy, there are activities for the neighborhood kids: face painting, arts and crafts and a rented Moon Bounce. We used to call it a Jupiter Jump when I was little, which may be an example of that Southern tendency to confuse a brand with a thing. In Britain they always called it a "bouncy castle." (If you still don't know what I'm talking about, it's a big inflatable structure kept turgid by a fan in the back. It's fun to get into and jump around. It's fun, that is, until tragedy strikes.)

This Moon Bounce actually was shaped like a castle, with pointy turrets on each corner. Most of the walls consisted of rope netting, although a large portion of each wall was inflatable and 'bouncy'. The one from the previous year had been a dragon, with its head bobbing up and down over the entrance. One little girl, about 10, had been at the last block party. "You killed the dragon so now you get to live in the castle," she said. That's some pretty heavy analysis for a 10 year-old.

Part I.

As in years past, I volunteered to monitor the Moon Bounce. I generally do this until I get tired or hungry (which is usually a good three hours or so), and then I dragoon someone else into doing it. When no one wants to do it any more, we unplug the thing and it deflates -- no more fun. I like kids, and running the thing is no hassle, usually. We set it up at one end of the street, and usually some of my buddies will come along and keep me company, bring me food and maybe a beer. Kids LOVE the Bounce -- fire it up and soon there is a crowd, nay a BIG crowd, of munchkins all waiting to get in. I make them get in a line, count off (only six at a time, etc.). It's not that hard of a job, and it's fun. Like I said, I like kids. It's a multiethnic neighborhood, so there are all kinds of kids -- white, black, Latino, Asian, and one kid from Bulgaria who would only give his name as "Lion King."

The kids were a bit rowdier than usual this year, however. A little proto-gang of pre-teens got into the Bounce, and wouldn't come out. One by one, I used my "mean Dad" voice and made them get out, but two girls just would not leave. They just kept bouncing, and shouting obsceneties. I wouldn't let anyone in until they got out, so soon there was a shouting match between the kids outside and the two girls inside. I went in the Bounce, but ended up just chasing them around inside. "You touch me and I'll sue your ass!" said one. There is some irony there.

Finally, I unplugged the Bounce, and it began to deflate with the two girls inside it. That worked like a charm: it deflated slowly, and they rushed out, and I decided to leave it off for a while as a lesson to all concerned -- and so I could get a veggie burger. I left the two girls in front of the Bounce -- the crowd of kids was getting into a fight, which I really did not want to be a part of. Parents were moving in, and I took off. I just work here, folks.

Part II.

Later in the day, I arranged a "Big Kids" bounce session. Some grownup friends wanted to go, and so I cleared the kids out for us. (I had done plenty of bouncing on my own after we set the thing up, of course -- one of the perks of running the ride.) The kids, while not able to bounce themselves, seemed excited to cling to the outside of the netting and yell encouragement to us. Most of all, they seemed to want us to do flips. My friend Sherry egged some girls into "peer pressuring" me. "Carlton, do a backflip! Carlton, do a backflip!" I tried to do a backflip.

I landed on the back of my head. My chin hit my chest, where I have a bruise today, and I heard my upper vertebrae all CRACK, just like at the chiropracter's office. I lay sprawled out on the inflated mat. All bouncing stopped around me. "Are you OK, Carlton?" asked Sherry. Sherry is a dear friend.

Luckily I was OK. My back and neck really hurt, and I crept off to sit on the curb for a while with some other friends, but I was/am ok. Needless to say, I was done with the Bounce for a while, and let other people take charge of it. I am not writing this entry with my eyebrows from a hospital bed, thank goodness.

Part III.

It got to be late in the afternoon, and I wandered back over to the Bounce. I was talking with Bryan, the guy who was watching the thing. He wasn't into it. "How much longer are we going to do this?" he said. All this time, kids were swarming around the entrance, and Bryan and whatever adults were around had to really struggle to keep order. "It's 6:30," I said. "Let's make this one the last."

"OK kids!" I yelled. "We're closing the Moon Bounce."

It was mob rule. The kids -- not to be too clever about it -- stormed the castle, pushing us adults aside.
There were something like sixteen children in the Bounce, which was rocking and careening dangerously from side to side. Somebody was going to get hurt, I thought. The kids wouldn't come out. Remembering my success of earlier in the day, I turned off the Bounce.

With sixteen kids inside of it, the thing collapsed, albeit in slow motion. The inflatable roof fell in, the turrets all made for the center, the floor went down to the concrete. The kids in the front near the door crawled out -- all the others were trapped. All around the edges, children's faces were pressed into the netting. "Help! Help!" For some reason I kept thinking of a mining disaster. Headline: Sixteen Children Die in Moon Bounce Accident.

I went into the deflated Bounce after the children, but it was really too heavy to lift up when not held up by air. Frustratingly enough, the children, when I found them, wouldn't get out of the Bounce: they either sat there and stared at me or tried to crawl back in after their friends. I had to manhandle a couple of them.

Finally, of course, I just turned the fan back on. The roof shot back up, the turrets went back into place, and the kids all scrambled out. The whole thing took less than a minute. When they were all out, I turned the fan off again. The kids then proceeded to jump all over the deflating Bounce, which had enough air in it to make some big pillows. "It's like a chair!" said one boy, who had been screaming bloody murder with his face pressed into the net just a moment before.

No harm, no foul.

I ain't runnin' no Moon Bounce again, though. posted by Carlton at 10:06 PM

VISITS

I am sitting in my office waiting for a call from Marcia, who is visiting Boston this week for her work. I'm excited that she'll be here -- I only see her once a century, it seems like. Tonight, Marcia and I will be joined by Christine (one of Marcia's Wazoo friends who is now a Manhattan ADA) and Christine's mom for dinner at a nice restaurant down near my office. I like it when people visit me.

At the beginning of next month, I'll be in New York City for a long weekend, the raison d'etre of which is a seminar about the tax treatment of private foundations which engage in political activities. I should get to see Dan, a Hooker Street friend, and at least some of the THREE high school friends who live in NYC: Karin, Becki, Kelli.
I hope some of these people will be willing to put me up for a night or two. (Can you believe that there are three alums of Hattiesburg High School living in Manhattan and Brooklyn? There may be more that I don't know about.)

In November, there is supposed to be a Hooker Street reunion at our own very special Undisclosed Location in New Hampshire -- damn, I disclosed it. THAT'S going to be a blast: Hooker's past, present and future -- a diverse group -- will gather in a remote cabin to drink and carouse. I am told that we will be joined by our two celebrity members, Emily Deschanel (whose futon I own) and Erika Leersen (sp?) (Of *Blair Witch Project: Book of Shadows* fame). I may have to learn how to post pictures here.

Here's to good friends, tonight is kind of special . . . posted by Carlton at 6:51 PM

MISCELLANY

Congratulations to Scott for not smoking for . . . what is it, a day? Seriously -- go Scott.

I had dinner last night with a dear friend of mine who was kind enough to tell me what a bad person she thinks I am, how she thinks I would be a terrible boyfriend and that she would never recommend any of her female friends to associate with me because of my awful amorality. That hurt; my response that she is a freakish, controlling, nagging harpy who would grind any man down to dust over time who wasn't smart enough to leave her didn't seem to strike her as deeply as I wanted it to. During this conversation, we shared a piece of cheesecake. We made up today, but that conversation has put me into a foul mood.

I have been spending an unwelcome amount of time on the phone lately with the folks at the Massachusetts Division of Medical Assistance. I'm not going to link to them. You know why? They suck. It's difficult to argue with someone who simply refuses to understand the question you are asking, simply refuses to do their job, simply refuses to be helpful in any way. I, of course, have done my best to be unfailingly sweet and charming on the telephone with them.

Anyone who is in Boston this weekend should come to a block party on my old street: Hooker Street, in Allston. Live music, food, activities for the kids. It's all free (although you will get to make a donation if you'd like).

Boy, am I snarky today or what? posted by Carlton at 5:43 PM

YELLOW (oh yeah)

I'm just not a big fan of the color yellow, OK? Neither was Green Lantern!

My general state of mind is as follows: dissatisfied, confused. I am entertaining all kind of plans for the near and distant future. Some of them make sense, and some of them do not. Perhaps I'll post something long and whiny about them later.

"Couldn't sleep at all last night, rolling from side to side . . . I was not sick I was just dissatisfied." -- Leadbelly
posted by Carlton at 1:40 PM

INCOMMUNICADO

I haven't posted anything here in a while -- I'd like to say that it's because I've been staying in an Undisclosed Secure Location like Tricky Dick (and I'd like to tell you that Franka Potente is staying there with me). That's not the truth, however.

Let's see, a couple of big things have happened in the last ten days or so.

I made moves to buy a car. Yes folks, Carlton, who has been without a car for FIVE YEARS (one in Hungary, four in Boston) is going to saddle up. Thing is that the car I am buying is not available for a full year, although I had a test drive and put down a deposit for it now. What car could be worth the wait, you ask? That car, my friends, is the Mini Cooper S. Yep the new Mini will someday be mine -- and the supercharged, intercooled, all-around pepped up Mini at that. Dark blue, with a white top -- not some pansy yellow (don't like yellow, no sir).

Buying a car has been something of a philosophical struggle for me. Frankly, I don't need a car. I live in Boston, I can get where I need to go via the T (our local public trans), currently I have a massive supermarket within a short walk of my pad. I have endeavored to live by Thorueau's principle -- "simplify, simplify" -- as much as possible. (Was that Thorueau? I think so.) That has involved living in a studio apartment in a crummy part of the city, not buying lots of new furniture/electronics/clothes, and not having a car. To make life bearable, however, I have made Mr. Thoreau coexist with another principle, which is this: because I make a good living and live fairly frugally, I shouldn't feel bad about individual purchases of things that I really want.

I really want a Mini. I have wanted one since I spent my senior year of college in Wales, where I would see them tooling around Swansea or Carmarthen or Llanelli. I thought they were a hoot, and I wanted to drive one. At the same time, I knew no one who owned one, and no one in her right mind would have let me drive her car in Britain (the one time I attempted to ride a bicycle, I looked the wrong way for traffic and nearly got creamed). And now they are HERE, and I can BUY ONE, and it's a NEW CAR made by BMW! On top of that, it's not even that expensive -- comparable in price to the Honda Civic or the VW Beetle. Less practical than the Civic, of course -- and more fun! (Did I mention that the thing has SIX speeds on the floor?)

So I drove it and ordered it and it will arrive some time next year. The delay is actually not a problem (except that I really really want it right now!) because between now and next September I intend to sell my apartment and move to a different neighborhood with better parking -- maybe even my own space. I can't sell my apartment until May (see series of extrememly boring posts preceding this one), so it all fits together seamlessly. I hope.
AND by that time I will have not had a car for SIX years, and I will have waited TWO years from beginning the big job as a high-powered attorney before buying one, and then buying a relatively inexpensive car that I really really want (NOW!), so it all seems to fit into the whole "simplify" mode. It doesn't fit as well as not buying a car at all, but screw it. I want one, and I can get one.

Oh . . . and a boatload of people were laid off at my work this week, which is much more important than a car but less fun to think about. Something like fifteen attorneys (out of maybe 80 that were left), and innumerable support staff (secretaries, etc) were given the boot. I was told beforehand by one of the big dogs that no one in my department would be cut, so I was not worried for myself. Still, it was hard to watch -- it happened on the one-year anniversary of my class of attorneys starting work at the firm, and three of us were given the ax. One woman (my friend), for whom this was her first job, became so upset that she called her mother to come pick her up -- which is touching, if unprofessional. There was a lot of open crying in the halls. It's a grim place since. Those of us who are left have been assured of a job at the new firm that Hutchins is merging with, Nixon Peabody. Instead of the Hutch, we will be the Nix, I guess.

So that's the scoop. It's good to see Greg is back in blogging action. Szervusz. posted by Carlton at 2:01 PM

OK, I HAVE NO PROBLEMS

Got an email from a female friend I know from Budapest and haven't seen for 4+ years. I won't use her name or anybody's real name, since I didn't ask permission, but here's a part of her email:

... two weeks after I got back to Australia Robert and I
were in a pretty shitty car accident. I fractured my
shoulder, lost some teeth, scarred my left check bone
and lip (plastic surgery lined up for October, way
hey),screwed up my vision and had a brain injury. So
now I have silver train-track braces, complete with
elastics (v. attractive:) and thankfully my head is
working better than it was.

At the start I didn't recognise Robert, didn't know
what country I was in, where I worked and asked
Robert's mum how many months pregnant I was! I think I
was trying to make sense of why I was in hospital with
her and Robert. They had to keep telling me that we
were in an accident, but my short term memory was
fucked so I kept forgetting. When I went into the
bathroom and saw my face and teeth I come out looking
shocked, so they had to explain about the accident,
but two hours later I'd walk out of the bathroom again
looking shocked and they had to tell me all over again
- pretty weird shit! But I'm okay now, still doing my
job and functioning well - the only major remaining
problem is fatigue, which is why I have just dropped
to a 3 day week.

So how am I? Oh, I'm just fine, thanks.
posted by Carlton at 2:06 PM

LORD HAVE MERCY

Just finished watching Dancer in the Dark, a musical (of sorts) starring Bjork. I don't want to write about this movie. I really don't want to think about it -- I wish I hadn't watched it. If I had recognized the name Lars von Trier as the same person who had made the equally disturbing Breaking the Waves, I would never have rented this movie. My reaction to both movies was the same: they took me in completely for a while, were too long, and left me wanting to throw up after they were over. Waves starred Emily Watson, an actress I am in love with in the way one loves actresses, and this movie has made me feel the same way about Bjork. That von Trier chose these extremely charming and winsome women to play the angelic and maddeningly simplemided characters that he tortures so cruelly -- well, they are good choices as the subjects of torture, if the goal is to wring out the spectator's heart.

I rewind the tape feeling manipulated and misused. The merit of the movie is in the expertise with which I was manipulated and misused. I did not enjoy this movie. I do not recommend it.

Ugh. I now have to leave my apartment for a while. posted by Carlton at 11:22 PM

ATTENTION THESIS/DISSERTATION WRITERS

Where law and academics collide: read this.

(It's long, but you can skip to page 6 and get the facts.) posted by Carlton at 10:35 AM

CELEBRITY JEOPARDY

In the last year or so, we've seen Harrison Ford date Calista Flockheart, Tom Cruise hook up with Penelope Cruz, Ben Affleck keeping company with J'Lo and now, wonder of wonders, Nicholas Cage has married Lisa Marie Presley. This is strong support for the theory that celebrity relationships are centrally managed by a computer that matches them up randomly. I swear, these stars must receive their assignments in the mail. Ben: "Who's it going to be this quarter? tears open envelope Oh, J'Lo. Could be worse."

What's next? Paul Newman and Britney Spears? Puff Daddy and Gwyneth Paltrow? Steve Buscemi and Bjork? Now that the same-sex barrier has been broken (Anne and Ellen), we can match them up TRULY randomly. Wouldn't Gwyneth and Liv Tyler make a great couple? Matt Damon and Jude Law? Franka Potente and Beyonce Knowles? (Wait -- I just can't bear to match Franka up with ANYONE except yours truly -- it breaks my heart.) Why even limit ourselves to couples? Tom and Penelope might pull in Antonio Banderas, or Catherine Zeta-Jones, or John Cusack, or JOAN cusack, for that matter (I'd date Joan Cusack -- she's hilarious). Why not all of the above? (Because it would make People magazine too complicated to read, that's why.)

What is Mr. Cage thinking? He's married a woman whose first husband was a pedophile that owned a CHIMP, for Pete's sake. Her dad is the nexus of the next great world religion and her mom . . . . well, for my money, Nick would be better off with Priscilla. I'm ashamed that I care about this even a little bit. posted by Carlton at 9:47 PM

FREAKY COINCIDENCE

So I went out to the bar the other night with these two women, one of whom, Ms. D, is a friend of mine from work -- the other of whom, Ms. F, I didn't know. Before we went out, they came over to my apartment to drink a little and chat. So I asked Ms. F what she does for a living; and she works at a cancer clinic as an administrator. Turns out, she says, that everyone at the clinic was really depressed at that time because of a particular patient, "Angela Smith", who had just lost a very prolonged and emotional fight with cancer. Ms. F had gotten to know Anglela better than most patients; Angela's struggle had been very dramatic, involving multiple periods of remission and relapse. Finally, though, she had succumbed, just a day or so before.

So we went out and heard a band at a local bar, and eventually the two women and I took our leave of each other. I went home and went to bed, tired old man that I am. The two women walked to D's house, which was about 20 minutes away on foot. On the way, they passed a house where there was evidently a really good party going on -- people standing around in the yard, tiki torches lit, good music playing through the open windows. Ms. F, emboldened a little by drink, insisted that she and Ms. D crash the party -- they just wandered up onto the porch and started talking to people. Somebody handed them beers, they met some nice people and bang, they were at the party. (When you are a friendly and attractive young woman, I guess you can do these things -- parties are made parties by women, as everyone knows.)

Sooner or later, the guy Ms. F was talking to turned to her and said, "So, how do you know Angela?"
"Angela?" said Ms. F.
"Angela Smith, " said the guy. It turned out that the party was an informal WAKE for Angela Smith, the cancer patient that Ms. F knew through her work, and that these were all her friends gathering to have one last party in her honor. Ms. F told her story, that she knew Angela but that she had just been passing by and decided to crash the party at random. Everyone was amazed.
"She must have wanted you at her party," said a guy, and everyone agreed that that must be the case.

True story. posted by Carlton at 12:27 PM

HOW TO BEAT THE HIGH COST OF LIVING (Another boring message)

Shelley asked me if I couldn't just raise the price of my condo by 20% and beat the taxes that way. I suppose I could . . . I'm operating on the assumption that there's actually an upper limit for the price of a one-room apartment. These days, it doesn't seem like there is. I'm not ready to move out right now, anyway. My breakups are always long and painful.

It's expensive here in the city. Young people seem content to live in very small, very heavily subdivided apartments. Grownup people with families (my secretary, for example) live WAY outside the city and commute in, sometimes 1 1/2 hours each way. A law professor told our class that she purchased a house for $40,000 in the 1960s that is now worth well over $1,000,000 -- crazy. If I stay here, I don't see how I will ever be able to afford a house -- not that I necessarily want one, either. Who wants to mow the grass? Not me. But it's something to think about posted by Carlton at 5:33 PM

BUBBLE BOY

Speaking of economic bubbles and my life (as I was, to everyone's delight), I have become increasingly attuned to chatter in the media about the housing bubble that has formed in certain communities in the US. Boston is widely regarded to be the most highly inflated market in this regard. A few days ago, I was reflecting on the possibility of selling my pad and cashing in on all that appreciation that has apparently sprung up overnight. It's really outrageous: a realtor recently told me that she was SURE that my place would go for X, when I paid something like 60% of X a year and a half ago. Needless to say, dollar signs rang up in my eyes like in a Daffy Duck cartoon when I heard that. Interestingly, the amount of gain is fairly close to what I owe in student loans. When I made that connection, one word popped into my head: Freedom.

The hitch is that I have to wait until next May to make this happen without paying 20% of tax on the capital gains. I worry that the bubble will burst in the interim, and all this gain will go POOF! It's roughly nine months until May, so it is like I am pregnant, swelling up to give birth to a pile of tax free capital gains. I could lose the baby of course, which would be sad. I am a riddle in nine syllables.

Oh well. These are the thoughts that fill my days. I think I should distract myself from this mess. As Anna Schmidt says in The Third Man: "You really ought to find yourself a girl." posted by Carlton at 8:42 PM

MUSINGS

A long post on recent events en ma vie just disappeared. I posted it, it went, and now it is nowhere to be found. I can't be bothered to recreate it, so those of you who cannot wait to hear if Little Nell is dead or not will just have to blame the Internet deities.

A saying: A man always remembers the women he could have had. A woman always remembers the men that she couldn't have. If true, this means that a woman who offers herself to a man and the man who refuses her will forever remember each other, and are locked together in an embrace of recollection that is both chaste and passionate. I think thick novels are written about those kinds of relationships.

posted by Carlton at 8:09 PM

PEANUTS HOMAGE

Speaking of which . . . posted by Carlton at 11:26 PM

EVERY LITTLE THING SHE DOES IS MAGIC

It's a cliche, and derivative and tedious of me even to mention it, but there is a woman who I know who completely floors me every time we meet -- which is seldom. I can be charming at times -- I usually have something to say, and my friends have commented that I can have a converation with just about anyone . . . I've referred to this woman before in this space, that I met her and that she was completely fabulous. I can't talk to her; my tongue is tied, my heart pounds, I can't catch my breath. When I do get some words out, they are invariably the stupidest combination of phonemes known to man. She is gracious with this obvious imbecile, especially since we have friend in common. What am I to do? Nothing, I think.

Need I mention that I saw her tonight? And that I am a little drunk on a school night?
Oh, but she is fabulous! posted by Carlton at 11:18 PM

SELLING THE NEST

It has occurred to me to sell my apartment in May, which is when I first qualify for the exemption against capital gains taxes on the primary residence. It's a tough call -- the place has appreciated a bit, and it's tempting to want to translate that appreciation into cash in my hot little hands. At the same time, there are questions to answer: Where will I live? Can I afford to buy another place? Probably, but not for a while. Can I rent a place for as cheap? Not and live by myself anywhere you'd want to be in the city. Do I want to live in this place for another year? It's pleasant in the summer, but the students are so annoying when school is in session. Also, I might eventually want to have more than ONE ROOM. Will I miss out by not selling while the market seems to be at a relative high? Maybe, but selling when the market is high means that it's hard to get into someplace else.

Luckily, I have time to mull this over. posted by Carlton at 8:11 PM

ANOTHER SETBACK

The road to true love has once again turned off into the fetid swamp of insanity. I am not going to give any details, since I feel that to reveal too much about one's romantic links to an unsuspecting third party is to blaspheme the Internet deities and beg them to unleash sizzling bolts of destructive energy down on my head. Of course, I have screwed it up, but patterns are emerging . . . This has happened too many times to really ignore it. I wonder what I'm doing -- maybe I am suffering for transgressions in a prior life. posted by Carlton at 8:01 PM

Nichole: You are a jaded, jaded woman.

Seriously -- I'm not offended that my job travails are not of general interest. Heck, even I'm bored with the story at this point.

What's the ultimate significance? Hard to say. A lot of people who were very comfortable in their lifestyles and self-images are going to get shaken out of their trees. I haven't been at this long enough to get too comfortable -- I haven't even bought a car, or an apartment with more than one room (although it bills itself as a "two-room studio."

posted by Carlton at 7:22 PM

JUST A FEELING

I get the impression that most of the (three) people that occasionally read this site are either uninterested in the dismantling of a big law firm or are unable to relate. That's cool -- it's a strange little world to live in. posted by Carlton at 10:41 AM

In case anyone is interested, here's the (spun) story from the Globe. posted by Carlton at 10:14 AM

THE BUBBLE

Now is a funny time to be a lawyer in Boston. That's fer sure. Whole firms (of 100+ lawyers) are going out of bidness, everyone is afraid of losing the job. People at my firm are meeting in groups of two or three in the hallways, speaking in hushed tones. What will we do?

I have plans, contingency plans. I don't want it to come to that, however, kind of like you don't want to have to use the first aid kit you keep in the trunk of your car. I don't even have a car . . .

Just two years ago, firms (like mine) were hiring any warm body with a Juris Doctor. The sheepskin was a guaranteed key to the big bucks. It was cool to say, "I'm a corporate lawyer." Many of those people, the ones who were just warm bodies, are gone now. Gone where?

I am not a corporate lawyer. I work in trusts, wills and estates. Stiffs and gifts. Rich dead people.

This is the result of the bursting of a bubble within a bubble. There was the big bubble of the Internet economy. We've repealed the business cycle! The Internet startups needed inhouse lawyers, and they had so much money. We call these stock options. They are a delicacy among my people. They hired the lawyers away from the investment banks, who hired the lawyers away from the top firms, who hired the lawyers away from the lesser firms. At every stage, there was more money. Twenty-five year-olds in their first jobs made six figures. They got used to it. That's what we're worth.

And now someone has kicked out the tent pole, and the canvas slowly settles to the ground.

It's an interesting time to be a lawyer. posted by Carlton at 11:19 PM

Tee hee! Someone called me "thinky"! posted by Carlton at 11:31 AM

MORE PEANUTS

So is Peanuts really all about frustrated sexual desire? As discussed, Charlie Brown wants to have sex with Lucy, who constantly thwarts him. At the same time, he is in love with the red-haired girl, whom we never see, and who may represent a idealized fantasy woman whom he wouldn't really like if he got her (I've been there). Lucy in turn is in love with the self-absorbed Schroeder. Sally is after the intelligent yet sexually infantile Linus. Maybe the only functioning sexual relationship in Peanuts is between Marcie and Peppermint Patty, as sadomasochistic as it may be ('Sir"?). Even there, Marcie is in constant flirtation with Charlie Brown (who is understandably confused), and treated with brusquefriendship by Peppermint Patty, who either doesn't recognize him as a possible rival or who does recognize that she can control him as well with the force of her personality.

What a mess! I still like the girl with the naturally curly hair, however. posted by Carlton at 3:47 PM

MERGERS AND ACQUISITION

Today, the large law firm where I work announced that a small but significant group of its partners would be splitting off and becoming the Boston office of a large New York City law firm, taking a group of associates with it. I am not a part of that group. The rest of the firm will then (hopefully) be acquired by the Boston office of another large firm. If everything goes well, I'll be working at a new place in December. If everything goes not-so-well, I'll be working nowhere in December.

I don't know whether to feel bad about the Hutch (Hutchins, Wheeler & Dittmar). On the one hand, it is a soulless business entity with no particular loyalty to me, and I'm sure it would cut me loose if the time seemed ripe. On the other hand it gave me my first job, my first big chance out of the starting block, and I do feel some sentimentality about that. I was a summer intern there, they gave me a job offer while I was still a student, they have given me a space in which to grow and learn during my really-stupid phase as a lawyer. I think the amount of mist that clouds my eyes when thinking about old HWD will be directly affected by what happens in the next few months. posted by Carlton at 7:14 PM

CORRECTION (First ever!)

"Mr. X" has corrected me about my Peanuts gal-pal: it was really Frieda, and not Violet, who had the naturally curly hair. I'm too lazy to look it up myself, so I'll take his word. posted by Carlton at 7:03 PM

Here are my best places to live. I musta filled the thing out wrong.

1. Washington, DC

2. Chicago, IL

3. New York, NY

4. Monmouth, NJ

5. Philadelphia, PA

6. Atlanta, GA

7. Los Angeles, CA

8. Fort Worth, TX

9. Boston, MA

10. Middlesex, NJ

11. Nassau, NY

12. San Francisco, CA

13. Houma, LA

14. Norfolk, VA

15. Dallas, TX

16. St. Louis, MO

17. Melbourne, FL

18. Orlando, FL

19. New Orleans, LA

20. Punta Gorda, FL

21. Austin, TX

22. Abilene, TX

23. Lafayette, LA

24. Longview, TX

25. Atlantic City, NJ

26. Tampa, FL

27. Huntington, WV

28. Daytona Beach, FL

29. Brownsville, TX

30. Fort Walton Beach, FL

posted by Carlton at 1:09 PM

SET THE CONTROLS FOR THE HEART OF THE SUN

So, it appears that another brief relationship of mine has ended. It's too bad, because she is very sweet -- and doesn't even read this space, so I must be sincere. It was pretty apparent from the beginning that it wasn't going to "work out": as when you buy too much milk, you have to drink as much as you can before it goes bad.

The question is whether these relationships are failing (and quickly) because I am doing something wrong (i.e. I'm a bad person) or whether I'm deliberately (but unconsciously -- is that possible?) choosing relationships that I know will not last. I'd guess the latter, with more than a dash of the former thrown in. That's the recipe for a little dessert we call the Relationship Turnover.

Ah, the single life! posted by Carlton at 9:15 AM

FRUSTRATION

So, I've been trying to post for some time now, and it just won't show up on my page. I am vexed. posted by Carlton at 9:30 PM

COOL

By the way, everyone reading this (and all of your friends) should go to this site and become a member. The Rock and Roll Library is very cool, and is attempting to do something pretty ambitious with a database of popular music that is free for all. It is also struggling. posted by Carlton at 4:33 PM

BIRTHDAY

Today is my thirtieth birthday. In trust language, I have attained the age of thirty (30) years. There have been presents, courtesy of Mom and Dad. There was cake, courtesy of my co-workers. There was even a really funky cactus from Kabloom, courtesy of Marcia. (Yay, Marcia!) There was no stripper, but a friend came in my office and showed off the new tattoo on her ass (I liked that). There were phone calls and cards.

From the outside, it may seem like I have finally settled into something here -- big job, home ownership, etc. Inside, however, I am tense as a cat, waiting for something to come along and knock me for a loop. Some part of me can't imagine that I will be sitting in this same chair a year from now, although that is likely. (I know, I could get a new chair . . . ). Like that dude in the Henry James story, however, I am convinced that something is going to happen. Also like that dude, I may end up wasting my life waiting for it. posted by Carlton at 5:57 PM

SNOWFLAKES

I came home the other day and found one of the children from the building sitting on the front steps. I know this girl -- she is about 10 years old, and her name is Snejina. That means "snowflake" in Russian, which I know because I had a Russian student in Hungary who was also named Snejina, and who was an amazingly attractive out-of-control sexpot drug addict whom I still think about from time to time -- usually late at night.

This Snejina was coloring on a large pad of paper, and she also had an oversized white paper envelope next to her. "Hi Snejina," I said.
She looked up at me, "I got a letter from the President of the United States," she said. She held out the envelope and, sure enough, the return address was "President George W. Bush" etc.

"What did he send you?" I asked.
"He told me I'm a citizen now," she said, and went back to her coloring.
"You weren't born here?"
"My brother," she said, without looking up. "I was born in Uzbekistan." That was the end of our conversation.

I don't know the significance of this, but it gave me pause, and a kind of "give us your tired and poor" glow of civic pride (although Snejina seems neither tired or particularly poor). I'm glad that getting her citizenship was not a big deal for her, and that it didn't mean the difference between living here and going back to some very unpleasant place. I'm glad she can color in peace. posted by Carlton at 1:50 PM

EXPRESSIONISM

So, I was playing Wiffleball with some friends on the Fourth, and the other team had this pitcher that couldn't hit the chair we set up to mark the strike zone to save his life. We were all heckling him, and none of our batters were swinging at anything, since it would be an automatic walk after four bad pitches. The dude threw a perfect strike, after about 10 bad throws, and I remarked, "Even a blind pig finds an acorn now and then."

Now folks, I regard this to be a common expression, even if it isn't in heavy use among the hip-hop generation (which none of us were, I might add). But as soon as those words left my mouth, everyone turned to look at me. The game STOPPED -- the outfielders came in, the pitcher walked over. "What did you say?"

I repeated it, several times, at the request of my teammates. Eventually they concluded (in all seriousness) that my use of the expression must be a result of my hick upbringing. They thought it so absurd and humorous that they named one of the teams "the Blind Pigs" and the other one "the Acorns". I said nothing, but I was a little embarassed.

Am I wrong about this expression? Has anyone else ever heard it? posted by Carlton at 2:25 AM

WORKING FOR PEANUTS

So, in all those comic strips in which Lucy holds the football for Charlie Brown, and he runs to kick it, and she pulls it out of the way and he goes flying . . . does this really mean that he wants to have SEX with Lucy, and she is deliberately teasing him? Bad Lucy!

(I would have gone for Violet, myself -- the one with the naturally curly hair!) posted by Carlton at 2:13 AM

THE NIGHTMARE WEDDING

At some point, we all went inside the chapel for the wedding. The chapel was small, and consisted of a single room which was painted an institutional white. There were only twenty or so of us; we nearly filled the room as we sat on our folding chairs.

The ceremony itself was uneventful, but did not relieve the tone of the occasion. The official who performed the wedding was not a minster, evidently, but some fellow who had been given the ability to perform weddings by the state. He was a middle-aged, balding white fellow who wore a gray suit. He had a slight but distinct speech impediment. ("Repeat after me, 'With thith ring, I thee wed . . . '") He didn't give a sermon or homily. An older woman played a keyboard, and there was taped music. The entire ceremony lasted about twenty minutes.

Back in the parking lot, the closer friends and relatives seemed intent on milling around among the cars for some time. The groom approached Anna Marie and asked if we minded going ahead to where they were having the reception and telling them that the party was on its way. She agreed.

The reception, as it turned out, was to be held at the rest area of the state park, where there was a bulding that contained, among other things, a small, dark function room. It was a low building, decorated in a faux rustic motif -- rock columns, laquered wooden beams -- that fits state park rest areas everywhere. We delivered our message, and looked around. There was a small gift shop, where one could buy geodes or plastic lizards or 'Alabama!' postcards. We were reminded again of Ft. Payne's importance to sock-wearers everywhere.
In the large lobby of this building, there were barrels set up on which one could play an oversized game of checkers (the pieces were the size of small dinner plates). For lack of any other occupation, Anna Marie and I sat down and played a game or two.

There was a man in the lobby, a tall white man wearing a cowboy hat, jeans and the mirrored sunglasses that state troopers always seem to wear. He had a newborn baby in his arms, and he was feeding the baby a bottle and jostling it up and down gently in his arms. As we played our games, he wandered over to watch.

As he got closer to us, the baby in his arms made a noise, a noise so un-babylike that both Anna Marie and I looked up at the same time, wide-eyed. The man noticed this and smiled.

"She's just two days old," he said, and bent down to show us. Yes folks, it was a pig. A baby pig. "Ain't she cute?" We agreed that she was -- and you know, she was. He continued to feed her the bottle and we played checkers until the wedding party arrived.

There was food set out on a buffet table and there were soft drinks and punch available. Much as before, we all stood around uncomfortably and talked. The reception lasted for about an hour. At the end of that time, it was decided that the rituals had to be followed: throwing the garter, throwing the bouquet. A man I didn't know caught the garter in a good-natured way -- when the bouquet was thrown, the three single women all scattered to get away from it, and it fell on the floor. There was a long moment of silence, in which the bride stood still and stone-faced, still holding her train in front of herself. Finally, one of the single women (a friend of the bride, I think), picked up the bouquet and put it aside.

We said what had to be said to the groom and left. I never spoke with the bride. I asked Anna Marie about the honeymoon, if any. Evidently, there was not to be one: the groom was to return that night to New Orleans, and the bride was scheduled to work the night shift at Domino's.

On our way out of town, Anna Marie and I stopped at the museum set up to honor the country music band Alabama. There was a room with guitars and photographs and stage costumes, and a small theater where we watched a 15-minute movie about the band.

This is a true story -- I have left some things out due to time constraints. Somewhere, I have pictures. If I made it up, there would be a better ending.

Is there a moral to this story? I don't think so. Feel free to try and generate one. posted by Carlton at 8:36 PM

THE NIGHTMARE WEDDING . . .

Will be continued shortly. Been in NYC all weekend, got to be in court SO early tomorrow morning (and SO far away . . . ).



posted by Carlton at 10:20 PM

WEDDED BLISS

So, I went to the wedding of Miss X this weekend, so she is now Mrs. X, I suppose. It was really a beautiful event, and the party thereafter was a good time for all. Everyone was joyous and optimistic, as they should have been. The bride was beautiful, and her groom was handsome, and both comported themselves very well.

I met some nice people who are Mrs. X's friends: I think my favorite new person was a Ms. Picklefryer, with whom I danced a bit. Later, I was refused a dance by another young woman on the grounds that we were not married -- but it was a hilarious misunderstanding. I also saw Nichole, who occasionally contributes to this space, whom I had not seen in forever and who looked great! That's a good wedding. It's also a boring story, so I will substitute another one in its place -- see below! (See I'm posting out of order, so that these posts will read in their proper order . . . like anyone cares, ok.) posted by Carlton at 10:29 PM

THE NIGHTMARE WEDDING

The worst wedding I ever attended was near Fort Payne, Alabama, a town that has two claims to fame: 1) it is the home of country music supergroup *Alabama*, and 2) it bills itself as "The Sock Capital of the World" (They have a number of textile mills there, which make, I guess, socks).

I attended this wedding with my friend Anna Marie, who was at that time a law student in New Orleans. She was in a study group (I think) with the groom of this wedding, but was still somewhat surprised when he asked her to the wedding. She agreed to go, for whatever reason. When she asked me if I would go with her, I agreed to go, for whatever reason.

We rode to the wedding in Anna Marie's red Ford Ranger pickup. She drove, and I read the directions. Off of a two lane state highway, we turned onto a smaller road into a state park. After driving in the state park, we turned off onto a dirt road, and recognized by passing a sign that we entered something calling itself a "dude ranch." Finally we arrived at the wedding site: not a church, but a structure in the middle of a dirt clearing that billed itself as a "wedding chapel". It was made of wood, and about the size of a house trailer. If memory serves me correctly, the chapel stood two feet off the ground on brick columns. The wedding was at about three in the afternoon.

The entire wedding party was standing in the dirt parking lot, as there was no place to go except into the chapel, and no one seemed ready to do so. There were about twenty of us all told. The men wore everything from suits and ties (me, and another law school attendee), to black cowboy shirts and jeans. Hats and boots were in evidence. The women wore light-colored dresses and heels. We were surrounded by pine trees. (A dirt clearing in the woods in Alabama -- makes you wonder what went on there at night . . . )

The groom was about thirty-eight years old, black-haired, bearded, talking on a cell phone. He had been a preacher for several years before quitting both his career and his wife and turning to the law. The bride was a tall blonde of about the same age who had a beauty that was not so much faded as hardened -- I fancied that she had experienced a rough life. More than anything, she seeemed tired, resigned to her circumstances, hoping to get it all over with. I don't think I saw her crack a smile the entire day. She, too, had been married before.

The wedding dress was a story in itself. I was told that the groom had contributed to the look of the dress that his first bride wore. Not to be outdone, his second bride had insisted, by God, that he was going to design her dress, which he did. This fellow was not a dress designer. He had had the dress made in Mexico, while he was on a semester abroad -- and he didn't speak Spanish, and didn't have his bride there to measure.

It was all white, of course, too big for her in the top and too tight in the bottom. Large portions of the bodice (?) were made of material that was sheer in varying degrees, with only a small amount of truly opaque material to cover the bride's not insubstantial bosom. This had two effects: 1) it allowed the casual observer to see a lot of her body, and 2) prevented her from wearing a bra or other undergarment. Since the top of the dress was too big, she couldn't take a step without jongulating in her dress and flashing the world. The bottom of this dress . . . someone should have said something. It had a long train and was open in the front -- the two edges of the skirt came together in a lacy meeting -- where? "It's cut up too her crotch," I heard the groom say into the phone to a family member who couldn't attend. I could see the bride's underwear, which was also white. She stood in the middle of this parking lot, afraid to move, one arm clasped about her chest to hold her breasts in place, the other holding her train out of the dirt and in front of her white-clad privates..

More later . . . posted by Carlton at 10:21 PM

SEARCH RESULTS

I'll write a bit about the wedding later. Meanwhile, I'd like to point out that a search for "Carlton King" in Google turns up this. posted by Carlton at 6:40 PM

AN ACTUAL READER RESPONSE

I too was at the show at the Middle East. and heard the song about 911. But un like you I was up lifted and inspired by what she was saying “I found the victor in me" " the beauty of liberty." It's true that such a profound event can't be condensed in one song but just like human emotion and life drama, songwriters have the right to express their feelings on an event. And we as the public are allowed to have our opinions. Although you do make a good argument, you sound like a frustrated songwriter or maybe there’s a creative person that wants to come out in you. why don’t you try your hand at song writing or throwing clay maybe you’d be a happier person. I find that most people that are hypercritical are very un happy and they like to make everyone else unhappy with them. Maybe you should examine why you feel so threatened by other people creativity and expression of ideas?

-Gentle Reader


I don't think I was making an argument at all, actually, just expressing my irrefutable subjective assessment of the show. Probably the larger problem was simply that the music was simply "not my bag." I commend the young songstress for getting a band together and putting on a decent show. I don't think I am hypercritical -- although I like to think I am critical, in the good sense. I didn't care for the song.

While I will never be a songwriter, I agree with GR -- I probably would be happier with a creative outlet. Maybe haiku? posted by Carlton at 11:12 AM

SMALL WORLD

Let me say this all in one breath: My friend Marcia who lives in Santa Barbara, California has a friend whose father is a history professor at Vanderbilt. The friend's father is engaged to be married this summer to a history/Women's Studies professor at the University of Southern Mississippi, Marjorie Spruill (formerly Marjorie Spruill Wheeler).
Ain't that a kick in the pants? (Not if you didn't go to USM and take classes from Marjorie, I guess.) posted by Carlton at 3:11 PM

THE IMPENDING NUPTIALS OF MISS X

In case anyone is interested, I wanted to announce that I will shortly be attending the wedding of Miss X, the ex-girlfriend with whom I had my on-the-blog argument about whether or not I would attend her wedding. Looks like fun! I'll report anything interesting that occurs. posted by Carlton at 2:57 PM

PART OF MY PROBLEM

I have this deeply embedded drive to do something with my life. Can somebody help me get rid of this? Isn't it enough that I've gone to school and done well and found myself a good job? Why do I have to be bothered with the thought that I am not doing anything important, that I am not creating anything or making anyone's life even a little bit better?

I'm a nice, smart fellow, occasionally charming. I have friends and loved ones. I am engaged and reasonably knowledgable about the world around me. I expect to be a net gain to the society that produced me, generating more resources than I consume. Perhaps I will reproduce, perhaps not. Then I expect to die and, regardless of what happens to "me" thereafter, I do not expect the world to trouble itself much about me other than to clean up the mess that is my corporeal remains.

Why do I have to want to do something more than this? Why can't I just enjoy my life while it lasts? posted by Carlton at 2:54 PM

IT'S FOR REAL

Up till now, I've had a hard time taking this "unlawful combatant" situation seriously. In law school, we spend semesters learning about the Constitution, what the government can and cannor do to the individual, all about the types of scrutiny that the Supreme Court will apply to different types of social or criminal regulation, and how the Court will strike down attempts by the other branches to overreach their Constitutional powers. It's enough to get one used to the idea that there is a system of rules that everyone will follow, a system that is inefficient and inaccurate but which operates to protect the rights of the individual and help government work for us, at least by giving everyone some idea of what is and is not permissable. What this schooling leaves one totally UNPREPARED to accept is that the whole system can suddenly go off the rails at any moment, and that this intricate network of precedent and convention and legislation only operates at the indulgence of the people that hold the reins of power. Are we heading off the rails? Is the Bill of Rights something that we can no longer afford to honor? I hope that's not the case.

Are we watching the transformation from Roman Republic to Roman Empire? posted by Carlton at 4:57 PM

JUST SAY NO

As a distraction from all the perfectly awful stuff in the news these days, I include as a public service my own personal anti-drug message.

This is a true story, in that it happened to a friend of a friend.

This guy (we'll call him Dave, since I've forgotten his real name) lived in a section of Boston called Jamaica Plain, or JP. One of the local characters in JP is this guy who drives the "Jesus Van", a van covered with "Jesus Saves" and "Repent" stickers and insignia. It is very recognizable, and is often seen parked in different parts of JP.

One night, Dave was walking home from a late-night laundromat, carrying two gigantic duffle bags full of his clean laundry. The local laundomat was a hike from Dave's apartment, so he always waited until every last article of his clothing was dirty before he went a-washing. On his way home, Dave saw the Jesus Van parked on the street. Intrigued, he approached it and tried the door. The Jesus Van was unlocked. Further intrigued, Dave decided to climb into the Jesus Van and explore. There was a lot of interesting stff in the van, religious pamphlets, more stickers, some evangelical tapes, etc. Dave looked through all this stuff.

Then, Dave had a great idea. Wouldn't it be great to smoke a bowl in the Jesus Van? Dave had a supply with him, and did so. Then he went home, ate something, and went to bed.

What Dave realized the next morning was that he had left the two gigantic duffle bags of his laundry in the Jesus Van. All of his clothes were gone. Even if he could locate the Jesus Van and its owner (it was no longer where he had seen it the night before), how could he ask for his clothes? ("Sorry man, I broke into your van and smoked some weed and I need my clothes back.")

In addition to not having any clothes, Dave didn't have any money. He ended up buying a 3-pack of V-neck undershirts at K-mart and wearing them for 3 weeks until his next paycheck came through. The shirts got all sweaty and stained and yucky, and all Dave's friends made fun of him.

So kids, here's the message: smoking dope will make you lose all your clothes and look bad. You'll do dumb stuff and people will make fun of you. Don't believe what you see on *The Osbournes*. Also, you shouldn't break into people's vans. And you should do your laundry as often as possible. posted by Carlton at 8:30 PM

THE OTHER THREAT

Officials said the plot had not advanced beyond the discussion stage. Al Muhajir has not been charged with any crime. He is being held at the Consolidated Naval Brig in Charleston, South Carolina, apart from the regular brig population

Others have expressed their concern about this much more eloquently than I can. Still, I don't think it can be said often enough: this person is an American citizen. He may or may not have committed a crime (conspiracy, perhaps -- certainly not the substantive crime of making or setting off a bomb).

Evidently, this administration thinks that it can declare anyone it wants to question to be an "enemy combatant" and hold them indefinitely in a military prison. Maybe tomorrow, I'll be declared an enemy combatant. When they come for me, and I request my lawyer, the soldiers will say to me, "We don't want to try you or punish you. We just want to find out what you know." That will be a comfort.

What a PR blunder! It's pretty clear that the government released news of this man in order to make it clear they are making progress in the fight against terror. At the same time, the details of this man's imprisonment are really disturbing to anyone who is concerned about the state of our civil liberties.

An important rule to follow: If you are going to do bad stuff, you don't tell anyone about it. The current administration practically invented this rule. Funny they should forget it now.

posted by Carlton at 10:17 AM

THREAT UPDATE

All is well. I worked for a while and left without incident. I returned to work this morning to find an intact office building, not a smoking pile of rubble. That's good -- I was worried about my office plants. posted by Carlton at 8:49 AM

THREAT

So they tell us that my office building has received a bomb threat, and that we can leave if we want to. It's a sad commentary on the state of my life that I'd rather stay in my office and work.

My theory is that buildings that receive bomb threats don't get bombed. We'll see how this pans out. posted by Carlton at 5:41 PM

A BOLD STATEMENT

Every song that had been written about September 11 up to this moment sucks. I haven't heard them all, of course, but I've heard at least a couple. They sucked. I'd love to hear one that doesn't. Put all these songs on a 3-CD box set and seal it in a time capsule buried in whatever memorial they eventually build to the tragedy. We won't miss them.

Last night I went out to hear a couple of bands downstairs at the Middle East in Cambridge. Ms. Berks has a coworker who played in the first (very rockin') band, whose name I have inconveniently forgotten. The second band was this woman named Annette Farrington (and ensemble), who was in the "I'm going to sing a couple of songs about death and the ultimate futilty of everything, and then I'm going to bring the mood down a little" mode. She, of course, had a song about September 11. I think it was right before the one about the deaths of her parents.
It didn't do anything for me.

Why are these songs all so bad? I have some ideas:

1. Everyone who writes songs thinks they need to write "the September 11 song". Since there are a lot of people out there writing crummy songs anyway, nonstop, all the time, a lot of these songs will be pretty bad. People should write them, of course --- but, like the poems you wrote in the seventh grade when your two-week girlfriend dumped you, they should be put aside and not shown to anyone.

2. September 11 is not the kind of thing that is able to be encapsulated in a pop song. There aren't any good songs (that I know of ) about JFK's assasination, about the Holocaust, about the Vietnam War (as a war). These subjects are just too big. Pop songs are best at capturing small moments, relationships between individuals, not gigantic national tragedies with worldwide consequences. There are lots of songs about people who were affected by these big events -- just not any good songs about the events themselves.

3. These songwriters are trying too hard. Identification of a song with a tragedy most often happens by accident -- like that "Superman" song that ebveryone was playing over footage of firemen and policemen, or "I Will Remember You" with Columbine. (As an aside, I thought Sarah McG was foolish not to allow her song to be associated with Columbine, since people are almost certainly going to be talking about Columbine long after she has exited the scene -- think about the royalties!) You can't make it happen. None of the great songs we associate with WWII are about WWII, for example, they just reflect a prevalent mood at the time.

OK -- caveat time. I don't write songs -- in fact, I don't do anything creative at all. Yes, I'm being critical of creative people. But hey, I know what I like.

posted by Carlton at 12:01 PM