Gut Instincts and Acid Reflux

We have completed the first third of 2021.  While it shall never be confused with the first third of 2019, it shall also hopefully never be confused with the first third of 2020.  It is more than a bit mind-boggling to me that we the people of these United States still find ourselves as besieged by COVID-19 as we still are - more than fifteen months after it announced its arrival on our shores.  Yet, my gut tells me that a corner has been turned and that the light appearing to grow brighter by the day at tunnel's end is daylight and not the business end of an Amtrak Acela.  

Time will tell whether my gut is right or whether what I am feeling is simply last night's chili dog.  Oh wait, I almost forgot...

I did not eat a chili dog for dinner last night.  

-AK 

A Thought for Thursday

 Sometimes, a little is enough.  In this case, six is both a little...

...and enough. 

-AK 

Wednesday's Wisdom

Relax, it is not my wisdom...

-AK 

My Introduction to the Featherweight Queen

 I'm throwing caution

What's it gonna be? 

Tonight the winds of change 

Are blowing wild and free.

If I don't get out 

Out of this town

I might just be the one 

Who finally burns it down. 

"Caution"

-The Killers

I love a good ear worm.  Last night, on my now-short ride home from work, I happily stumbled upon one.

Enjoy! 

-AK 

The Ignitor

Today is the birthday of my oldest sibling, my brother Bill.   Although I have spent the better part of the past five and one-half  decades stoking fires of my own making, I am forever indebted to Bill for having lit the spark in me in the first place.  

Happy Birthday, Bill!  Much love always! 

-AK

Semper Fi

I had never heard the name Tyler Tidwell until Saturday.  I was sitting in my backyard.  I was watching Sam enjoy a little quality time with Dingo when I came upon this story in USA Today.  

A remarkable man.  A remarkable family.  A remarkable group of friends.  

An invaluable reminder of the wisdom and the worth of Lincoln's words. 

-AK 

Fighting the Good Fight

Food for thought for April's final Saturday...

...be careful out there. 

-AK 

Separating the Good from the Bad

 This is not an anti-police prosecution.

This is a pro-police prosecution. 

There's nothing worse for a good police

Than a bad police.

-Steve Schleicher,

Special Assistant Attorney General,

State of Minnesota

Derek Chauvin never was the face of law enforcment officers in this nation.  Not once.  Not even a little bit.  How do I know?  I know because one of the people I love most of all on this planet is a federal law enforcement officer.  My son and Derek Chauvin, as men and as law enforcement officers, have nothing in common.  Never have.  Never will.  

I know because in addition to my son, I have had the great good fortune of getting to know and to befriend law enforcement officers throughout the years, including men and women whose acquaintance I have made in the course of my work as a lawyer, including one of the finest men I know, Pete Gonzalez.  Pete, like Rob, works for the federal government.  Pete Gonzalez and Derek Chauvin, as men and as law enforcement officers, have nothing in common.  Never have.  Never will.  

The State of Minnesota proved its case against former police officer Chauvin beyond a reasonable doubt, due in no small part to the testimony of multiple law enforcment officers, including the Chief of the department for which Derek Chauvin worked.  Those men and women, as law enforcement officers, have nothing in common with Derek Chauvin.  Never have.  Never will. 

Steve Schleicher is right.  There is nothing worse for a good police officer than a bad police officer.  Those who continue to paint with such an unreasonably broad brush would be well served to remember Mr. Schleicher's words. 

-AK  

Earth Day!

Today is Earth Day.  Whatever you do and however you do it, do your small part to protect the little blue marble that we occupy.  

It is, after all, the only home we have.  

Use your heart.  Use your head.  

Do not use...

-AK 

Enjoying The Final Third

Charles M. Blow is, among his many talents, an Opinion writer who writes a regular column for The New York Times.   The other day on his Instagram feed, he shared a snapshot - a glimpse if you will - of his column from Sunday's Times, which piece was entitled "My Second Phase of Adulthood".  

@charlesmblow

Few pieces I have read in recent memory spoke to me with the clarity and precision that Mr. Blow's April 18 piece did.  It so touched me that I did something I infrequently do, which is comment upon what he had written:

I found myself nodding along quite a lot while reading this column. I am the youngest of six siblings and I am in my mid-fifties. I was fourteen when my father died. I was fifty when my mother died, which happened within a twelve-month period in which three great, long-time friends each lost their mom and one of them also lost his father. When my mom died, he sent me a pitch-perfect text pointing out that we were now both orphans but as fifty-year-old men not likely candidates for adoption. I smiled until I laughed and laughed until I cried.

My children are grown and are, themselves, parents. My grandchildren are the greatest, most wholly undeserved gift I have ever received. They have given me a new lease on life. The arrival of my first grandchild almost four years ago did make me think a bit of my own mortality and, statistically, how much of their glorious lives shall likely take place after I am gone. It did not make me sad. It made me want to make sure that I spend as much time with them as I can so that they will have memories of me that long outlive me.

Thank you, Mr. Blow, for putting into words how it is I feel as I embark on the final third of my life. Good luck to you on yours.

            May the road rise to meet us both and may the wind be always at our backs.

Whatever stage of the game it is in which you find yourself, apply all your energy, all your love, and all your passion to your day-to-day.   Cut yourself some slack.  Get on with being a better person.  

-AK 

A Beachy Day

The road to the return to normalcy is, for present purposes, being walked with baby steps.  It was a pleasure to take a race's worth of those baby steps on Saturday morning in the Manasquan Mid-Winter Beach Run, which had been scheduled for a Saturday in mid-February before being postponed for roughly sixty days due to the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic.  

A very nice day spent in the company of good people.  Thanks, as always, to Lynne for hosting us.  

-AK 

Dare To Be A Unicorn

(c) Samantha's 716 Creations

I will never qualify to run in the Boston Marathon but today I shall participate in the Patriots' Day Mile.  I signed up for it in large part because my oldest granddaughter, Maggie, loves unicorns and this event's "race swag" is a baseball hat with...you guessed it, a unicorn. 

As good a reason as I shall ever need to get up out of bed, lace up my running shoes, and put some mileage on them. 

-AK 

The Man In Black

It was quite an interesting week in the law for Yours truly.  

Thursday morning I appeared in person before a judge in a New Jersey courthouse for the first time since early March, 2020.   My client failed to appear but at least I was there.  What a pleasure it was to speak to another lawyer and to appear before a judge face-to-face (or half-face to half-face I suppose).  

Friday night I was a Presiding Judge in Round 1 of the American Mock Trial Association's Collegiate National Championship Tournament, which was conducted via Zoom.  I learned after the trial over which I had presided was over that the two teams who I had the pleasure and privilege of watching compete were from the University of Chicago and Yale.  Really outstanding work put in by the students on both teams.  I was very impressed by how well-prepared they were not just in the handling of their direct examinations and cross-examinations (not to mention how seamlessly all of them handled the technology) but by how well and how forcefully they argued all objections.  

I know not how many of the college students I saw in action on Friday night actually are planning a career in the law.  I hope for the good of our profession at least some of them pursue it.   

I must admit that this fellow could get used to being a judge.  Not just because it was nice to be addressed for three hours as "Your Honor" as opposed to any of the less-flattering honorifics I have earned over the years.  According to the Administrative Office of the Courts, New Jersey has a current shortage of sixty-four judges, which shortage is expected to grow over the next couple of months.  It is interesting work.  The need to dive deeply yet quickly into the issues involved in a particular case or, even more exactly, in a specific bone of contention in a particular case, energizes and inspires me.  Plus, the job comes with a black robe.  Black is a slimming color.  I need all the help I can get in that department.  If only it came with a black hat too.  Then, perhaps, after five-plus decades my head would appear more appropriately-sized. 

Hat or no hat, put me in, Governor.  I am ready to play.  

We are adjourned.  Enjoy your Sunday. 

-AK 

Inexcusable

Last night, the Bronx Bumblers gave yet another lesson in how to play fundamentally unsound baseball.  Losing for the eighth time in thirteen games, and for the third time in four tries to their new archenemies, the Tampa Bay Rays, the performance the Yankees put forth between the white lines was as embarrassing and as inexcusable as the performance of the morons in the stands who delayed the game in the bottom of the eighth inning by throwing baseballs onto the field. 

Inexcusable.   Embarrassing.  Infuriating.  The Bombers' play on the field has been all of those things thus far this year and at least one fan (spoiler alert - he bears an uncanny resemblance to me) cannot help but continue to wonder what he has wondered since Joe Girardi was shown the door in favor of Aaron Boone, which is why?  

No matter how bad the play on the field is, the participatory imbecility on display in the stands last night in the Stadium is the type of behavior for which I have zero tolerance.  Were I the person who owned the Yankees, I would have my folks scour every piece of video footage from last night's debacle and every person positively identified as someone who threw something on the field would be banned from the Stadium, immediately and forever.   

-AK 

A Happy Idiot

Out into the cool of the evening

Strolls the Pretender

He knows that all his hopes and dreams

Begin and end there.

-"The Pretender"

Jackson Browne

They do indeed.  For every one of us.  

Pretenders all.  Doing whatever is necessary to get us through our day-to-day... 

...so when the morning light comes streaming in, we get up and do it again.

Amen. 

-AK 

Do It Like DuFresne

Today's nickel's worth of wisdom...

Be careful out there. 

-AK 

O Captain! My Captain!

It was on this date in 1865 that John Wilkes Booth shot President Abraham Lincoln as President Lincoln sat in his box at the Fords Theatre wathing a performance of Our American Cousin. 

Image from biography.com

President Lincoln succumbed to his wounds at 7:22 am on April 15.  

-AK 

A Testament to Conspicuous Gallantry and Intrepidity

There are certain news stories of which I never tire of reading.  One of them involves the exploits of the men and women who scour the depths of our planet's oceans and often discover simply extraordinary things.  

Last week, more than four miles beneath the ocean's surface east of the Samar Island in the Philippine Sea, in 21,180 feet of water, an expedition by undersea techology company Caladan Oceanic found the wreck of the USS Johnston, a Fletcher-class destroyer sunk on October 25, 1944, during the Battle of Leyte Gulf, one of the largest naval battles of World War II.   

Lt. Commander Ernest E. Evans, a Native American, commanded the Johnston and you can read here just what he, his crew, and their ship did during the final day of the Johnston's life, which was also the final day of Lt. Evans' life and one hundred and eighty-five of his men.   Lt. Commander Evans posthumously became the only World War II destroyer commander and the first Native American in the United States Navy to be awarded the Medal of Honor.  

-AK 

A Primer on Personal Inconvenience

My mandated work exile ends at the close of business today.  I cannot tell a lie:  It has been one hell of an inconvenience.  That being said, I understand and appreciate that there are things in this world that are bigger than I am.  One of them is a policy intended to apply to all offices of the global law firm for which I now work.    

Inconvenience to one trumped by concern for the greater good.  As it should be.

Even when I am the one being inconvenienced. 

-AK 

Finding the Fortitude to Endure

"Grieving is a Process" 

Under the heading of "you need not listen to me but if you do, you will thank me", I cannot recommend Dana Canedy's incredibly personal, moving A Journal For Jordan strongly enough.  

First Sergeant Charles Monroe King was killed in action on October 14, 2006 during his fourth tour of duty in Iraq.  He was approximately one month away from the date on which he was scheduled to return home, to his fiance Dana and to their then seven-month-old son, Jordan.  

A Journal For Jordan is a labor of love that Canedy wrote with significant input from King.  Their teamwork will make you smile, make you laugh, make you think, make you angry, and make you cry.  It might at least a time or two break your heart.  

First Sergeant Charles Monroe King

Killed in Action:  October 14, 2006 

Just like life itself. 

-AK 

How Did I Get Here?

The list of things I lack the ability to comprehend is long and gets longer every day.  A relatively new addition to it is the placement of a runner on second base to begin every half inning of every MLB game this season.   The rule was agreed upon by the club owners and the players' union so everyone shares a bit of responsibility for it.   

I, self-admitted dinosaur that I am, think of me as PopPopasaurus, simply do not get it.  Unless of course, the Lords of Baseball, wanting to keep the game relevant in the 21st Century, simply pursued a course of action that appears to have permeated every part of society these days, which is rewarding someone for having done absolutely nothing.  In fact, this rule goes beyond that because the player who begins the inning on second base, dusting himself off as if he had just hit a double, is the player who made the final out the last time his team was at bat.  His reward for having failed to earn his way on base the last time he had the opportunity to do so?  An all-express paid trip to second base this time around and an opportunity he has himself not earned to score the go-ahead or the winning run.  

Idiocy.  Nothing less.

-AK   

Telling Time In New York Minutes

You'd better take a fool's advice 

And take care of your own.

One day they're here,

Next day they're gone. 

-"New York Minute"

Don Henley

I was reminded again just the other day that often in this life the things you think you know so well, you may not really know at all.  

So here is a pro tip: 

You're welcome. 

-AK 

Sand, Sea, and Sky

 You know I always liked my walking shoes

But you can get a little too fond of the blues.

You walk too far, you walk away. 

Hello sunshine, won't you stay? 

"Hello Sunshine"

-Bruce Springsteen

This past Saturday, it sure did. 

If life allowed, I would sit on the beach all day and appreciate the points of intersection among sand, sea, and sky.  

Someday perhaps it shall.

It is a view of which I shall never tire. 

-AK 

A Toast to the Truth Tellers

I would never pretend that I possess the skills to debate the late, great Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr., who served as an Associate Justice of the Supreme Court of the United States for thirty years until his retirement at age ninety.  

Luckily for me, I do not have to debate Justice Holmes on this point...

...for it is one on which he and I are in agreement. 

-AK 

Fare Thee Well Villas...

Saturday afternoon I made my return trip to one of my new favorite places, Villas, New Jersey, to reacquaint myself with the nice people at the CVS and to receive my second dose of the Moderna Covid-19 vaccine.   It was a beautiful day for a drive on the Parkway.  I headed south accompanied by the sounds of E Street Radio and, on my return leg to Lake Como, by the voices of John Sterling and Suzyn Waldman calling the Yankees' game against the Toronto Blue Jays.   Fun fact.  Every second of a Yankee radio broadcast is billboarded - someone has paid for it.  This year, the radio booth is sponsored by Duck Duck Go, which apparently is an internet search engine, and which either Sterling or Waldman must say aloud several times a game.  Maybe it was the effect of the vaccine but hearing Suzyn throw it to John for the first pitch by telling their radio audience, "Coming to you live from the Duck Duck Go broadcast booth, here is the voice of the New York Yankees, John Sterling" struck me as nothing short of hilarious.  

To borrow a phrase from baseball parlance, I had a Covid-19 doubleheader on Saturday.  Last Monday,  I spent roughly twenty minutes meeting with someone who, two days later, tested positive for Covid-19.  Firm policy dictates that I am not permitted to return to the office for two weeks following the exposure.  So, shortly after 4:00 o'clock on Wednesday I was told that I had to vacate the premises.  Not wanting to potentially expose Margaret or Joe (both of whom received their second Covid-19 vaccine on St. Patrick's Day), I left work, drove home to Middlesex, avoided any direct interaction with my wife while I packed a bag, and then retreated to our little Paradise by the Sea, from where I worked the remainder of the week.  

Saturday morning, I went to City MD in Wall Township to get a Covid-19 test, which is just what I figured I would have to do less than four hours before getting my second shot of the vaccine.  Unlike pre-calculus with Mrs. Katrausky, this test I passed.  Armed with my negative result, after getting vaccinated early Saturday afternoon, I went for an afternoon run along the ocean, showered, packed, and headed back to Middlesex.  

Clean bill of Covid-19 health notwithstanding, rules are rules, which means I shall spend this week (and Monday of next week) working from home.    

Ah irony, thou art cruel indeed.  

Be careful out there. 

-AK 

Bridging the Gap

 

I've been around the block

And I've done some things

That I ain't so very proud of...

-"Naked"

BoDeans

In "Dead Man Walkin'" Bruce Springsteen observed that, "Between our dreams and actions lies this world".   Indeed it does.  

There may be no greater truism than we are not what we say but, rather, we are what we do.  What we are, each of us, is an imperfect, flawed to a degree human being.  Irrespective of however perfect the face is that we show to the rest of the world, each of us knows the truth about ourself.  Each of us knows that our real life - the one we make our way through every day - is measured in the gap between the things of which we dream and those things that we do.    

Survival in this world is directly related to our ability to make the gap between the two manageable.  The secret for doing so is unique to each of us.  

I got mine.

Got yours? 

-AK

A Sad, All-Too-Familiar Refrain

On Friday, United States Capitol Police Officer William F. Evans, an 18-year veteran of the USCP known as "Billy" to those he loved and to those who loved him most of all, was killed in the line of duty.  

Whether today is, for you, an especially holy day or simply April's first Sunday, if part of your daily regimen is praying, then offer one up for Officer Evans' family.   

-AK 

Unplumbable Depth

With apologies to Guy de Maupassant, at no time during the fifty years and four months that we mutually occupied this big blue marble did I ever fail to know just how much I loved my mother.

 

I must admit however that in the forty-six months since she died, a day has yet to dawn on which I have not felt and lamented the unplumbable depth of her absence. 

It is as unreachable to me now as was the bottom of the cookie jar we kept in our kitchen when I was a little boy...

...except now standing on a chair does nothing to elongate my reach. 

-AK 

Quality Indeterminate Friday

Food for thought on April's first Friday (and Good Friday for those of the Roman Catholic faith):

Be careful out there. 

-AK 

A Moment in the Sun

Today is my son Rob's birthday.  I smile at the realization that today is also Opening Day for the 2021 Major League Baseball season.   The Yankees open at home against the Blue Jays.  Baseball is one of the joys that Rob and I have shared since he was a little boy.  His first game was Fan Appreciation Day in September 1996 when then-rookie Derek Jeter singled in the winning run against the Red Sox in the 12th inning.  We were in the Stadium on April 22, 2001 when Paul O'Neill and Dave Justice hit home runs in the 10th inning to beat the Red Sox.  We watched Joe Girardi and Tino Martinez return to the Bronx in June, 2003 (on Mom's birthday!) when Roger Clemens notched his 4,000th strikeout en route to earning his 300th win.  We have seen games together at the "old" Yankee Stadium and its newest iteration, where the Bombers have played since Opening Day 2009.  

Prior to his great migration west in the fall of 2008, we had watched and listened to too many games together to count.  In the late nineties, when the Yankees made deep runs in the post-season on an annual basis, we would watch the game on TV with the sound off so we could listen to John Sterling and Michael Kay call the game on WABC 77.  In 2000, when the Yankees and Mets played in the only Subway Series of my lifetime, I recorded every game on our VCR (those of you under a certain age ask Siri or Alexa what is the word behind that acronym).  A couple of years later, Rob popped in the tape of Game Five and as we sat watching it, we realized we were listening to the TV call of the game for the first time.  

I have had the great good fortune of having been present for the raising of two extraordinary children, Suzanne and Rob, to adulthood.  Each of them had the great good fortune of being raised in an environment where I could share my knowledge of certain things with them while not being weighed down by my DNA.  It shall be no loss to humanity for my genetic material to become extinct whenever it is I trip the mortal coil, I assure you.  

It is one of the great privileges of my life to have Rob as my son.  He is a far better man at his still young age than I shall likely ever be if I live to be twice as old as I presently am.  I smile just thinking about the life he has worked to make for himself with his bride, Jess, and their two beautiful little girls, Abigail and Shea.  

My wish for him today is that he has the birthday he deserves...

...and that the Yankees do their part by getting a win on Opening Day.  

Happy Birthday Rob.  Much love always. 

-AK