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!

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