Oral Arguments

Holly Doyne Posted on by  

are one of those particularly American Legal thing. At the Appellate Level you have apposing council and and a panel of judges. Unlike your standard courtroom trial, those judges can, and do, ask questions. They also interrupt and try to score of you, your opponent and the other judges.

It is words for knives veiled in politeness at less than 10 paces. Someone dies loses every time. Reminds me of a song heard long ago, sung at Darkover by Clam Chowder when Shana was young. It was all about two lawyers apposing each other. When all was said and done, they shook hands as friends.

It some worlds, it would be impossible to treat your opponent as a friend. The legal mind appears not to experience cognitive dissonance: this representation is a job; everyone is entitled to good representation; I can do this. But why, someone like me asks? Don’t you have a compass? Can you just put aside what you believe in order to earn top prize money? Or worse, don’t you believe in anything? Are you for sale?

Medicine is so different from this. Many of us struggle with the idea of making a living off the bad things that happen to others. I think it is why there has been the tendency to take salaried positions over the last couple of decades; to not have to worry about who is paying what. To be able to battle on the side of one’s patient rather than with them to get costs covered.

Gee, got off track didn’t I?

Anyway, I was stuck today in the Moot Court Room, 4th floor of 198 McAlilster.  One of my classmates and I had drawn apposing sides of a made up issue about free speech, loud students and printed t-shirts. Sela has had sick children at home, I have had absolutely no interest in writing out an oral argument. As it turns out, each of us did most of our decision making and prep in the hours right before our noon appearance.

And we both did fine. Sometimes there is over preparation. And sometimes you just get lucky.

Registration

Holly Doyne Posted on by  

I don’t know where my mind was this morning. Or rather, I think I left it steeped in the cup of coffee forgotten on my dresser. Somewhere in the back of my mind was the thought that I needed to be at UCHastings by 0900.

Which in and of itself is strange since I didn’t have a class prior to 1040, or maybe it is 1050? Anyway hard to tell since the constant bopping forward by 10 minutes in the class schedule always leaves me confused. Not exactly my favorite thing as you might guess. Spend enough years where at least the rules are clear and the clock has 24 hours in a day and you lose some of your tolerance for petty stuff.

Walking in the door of the classroom building I saw one of my classmates seated on a chair next to the security desk.
Hi!
Hi! I got in return. It is 0900 and I am registering.

Oh, yes. The reason I am here early. Registration opens on-line at 0900. The 3JDs, LLMs, MSLs have first crack. And If I don’t register today, I have to wait till much, much later. Heading up to the third floor, I pulled my computer out of my backpack. And to think I almost didn’t want to bother with the weight today.

Three minutes later and I was registered for all my sections. There will be an issue later, as one of the classes I want to take overlaps with a class that I am required to take. The overlap is one hour every other week, but apparently these folks are anal about such things. In any case, I am registered and can now go find more coffee.

And occasional areas of smoke

Holly Doyne Posted on by  

or more than occasional as is the reality.

You have heard weather reports in the past – cloudy, raining, partly sunny? Or some variation of the above?

Unless, of course you live in Hawaii and get a report that says – today will be just like yesterday with temperatures in the low 80s with mild showers between 0200 and 0400.

Here in the Bay area the reports range from the lowest temperatures in San Francisco to the highest in the Central Valley. Often those reports include a description of the marine layer or areas of patchy fog to burn off by noon.

Burning off is something we are NOT discussing right now. The fires continue to rage in both Northern and Southern California. Although the Camp Fire is more than 150 miles (240+ km) from here, a pall is layered over the city. It has been days since we have seen the sun, except through a layer of smoke. White in the morning, glowing red like embers in the afternoon, it has been days since we have seen any blue sky.

This is nothing like the horror of Northern California where fire swept through a number of small towns.  These are wildfires, not forest fires, Idiot Washington DC based politicians aside. These fires have nothing to do with forestry management and everything to do with people living in areas ripe for burning. California has been dry, the temperatures high, the humidity at close to an all time low. It isn’t trees, it is bush, scrub, tall grass that easily catches fire that the winds whip along at speeds faster than can be controlled or people can be evacuated.

So we have weather reports that warn of particle levels so that those with respiratory disease can take care. People wearing respirators are commonly seen on the street or riding public transportation. The number of joggers has decreased sharply. And smoke, like fog, settling around us.

Veteran’s Day

Holly Doyne Posted on by  

lately has become a day on which I hide out and stay home. Especially in the U.S. where the holiday has become just one more in a long line succumbing to commercialization by retailers looking for one more opportunity to peddle their wares. I understand wanting to make a living. I even understand merchandising. What I really do not appreciate is the taking of anything solemn or of significance and turning it into a circus.

It certainly happens in the U.S. with religious holidays. Especially the two major Christian ones.  I don’t care about social holidays (Thanksgiving, Halloween, Valentines Day, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Independence Day?) -those are just ripe for commercialization. But Memorial Day? Veteran’s Day? Those should command at least a modicum of respect. Memorial Day should impact everyone.

Veteran’s Day? It has become an excuse for anyone who knows someone with prior service to say “thank you for your service” and bop on with their lives. Perhaps the day garners more respect in Europe. I think there is a huge difference between sending family off to fight in foreign lands and having those battles range through your own country, city, town and farm. It is easier to understand when it is personal, when your parents, or grandparents lived through the war, even when they absolutely never talk about it.

Take that minute at 11 after 11 today. Armistice Day and be glad that you are not currently living in a war zone. That the battles you are fightings aren’t house to house, tree to tree. That there are not mass graves under your feet. That your family is safe. That you, unlike many in the past, have choices.

Northern California Fires

Holly Doyne Posted on by

There are those out and about who are still denying that the world’s climate is changing. Perhaps they didn’t get the message when watching “Day After Tomorrow” which was released in 2004. Or perhaps missed the news story about Tonga looking for another place for their population when they are swallowed by the sea (their island’s high point being less than 3 meters above sea level)?

It certainly is the case that there is way too much dry land in California, and the Santa Anna winds are worse this year compounded by low humidity and build up of brush and grass. In any case, Paradise California is no more with over 75% of the town burned. Much of Chico has been evacuated, the State College closed for the next couple of weeks and the students sent home.

Even with the fires more than 250 km from here (+75 miles north of Sacramento) the smoke has been rolling steadily into our area. You can smell it, taste it on the air. The sun sits sullenly on the horizon this evening, redder even than I remember from setting suns out on the ocean. Most of the reports so far are about the people, homes and businesses lost. I expect the reports soon about animals, pets, wildlife.

I am hoping that PG&E is not to blame again, but our infrastructure certainly hasn’t kept up with the population growth. I sometimes wonder at the lack of fires from the wire nests that I saw routinely in India and Nepal, in various countries in Africa. But then, with the number of people needing fuel for cooking fires, there was little chance of buildup of branches, grasses and brush. No fuel, fewer chances for fire.

The acreage lost is over 75,000 so far with less than 30% containment.

We need rain. 9

School Crossing Guards

Holly Doyne Posted on by  

Somehow, as a child of suburbs and small towns I had failed to connect the idea of children, schools and cities.

I know that it should be obvious to everyone that there are schools (elementary and secondary) inside cities. Hello? Cities, people, children = schools. Then let me describe the area around UCHastings. The Law School sits in the middle of the Tenderloin, an area much more likely known for street people, drug dealing and homelessness than for families with small children. Rather than recite most of the facts, the Wiki article at the link is worth reading. Bottom line? The area around Hastings has a plethora of homeless persons, police, and drug dealing. It is not an area I would wander around in after dark.

The local BART stop  is Civic Center. The area is also home to a few theaters, museums, and a number of court houses.

Reading the historical information that a portion of the area was at one time referred to as Little Saigon, I don’t know why I didn’t connect that bit of information along with the city not allowing a lot of gentrification in the area implies both poverty and families.

On my way back from Peet’s on Monday (Corner of Turk and Van Ness) I walked past a building that was obviously a school. Given the mosaics, I could safely assume elementary school. Next corner I hit another major clue. School Crossing Guards complete with Stop Signs working with the traffic lights, walk signals and pedestrians. It was then that the thought of schools in the area finally sunk into my head. Like the average non-inner city dweller, I don’t really think about the upper stories of most of the buildings I am walking past. Certainly, I guess I was oblivious to the fact that, since there are any where from three to numerous stories, someone must be occupying the floors above street level. Like perhaps people live there?

The crossing guards had cell phones in one hand, their red Stop Sign in the other along with a smile for just about everyone. Smiling back, they form an excellent cross-section of the people who live in the area. San Francisco is about as population diverse as any community in the US. It is a city which ranges from the inner bay to the Pacific Breakers with hills. It is a city with tech leaking out the seams, a busy financial district, and tourists. It is also home to more than 400,000. Of course there are schools….

Artificial Universes

Holly Doyne Posted on by  

It was liket a light bulb went off over my head.  You know the one – blinding flash of the obvious – where, in retrospect you have no idea why you missed the main point of whatever. It was an innocent remark of George’s that triggered my understanding.

Let me give you some background so that you can understand the context.

I using my GI Benefits to collect yet another degree. I thought about some of the PhD programs – but, thinking in German, Dr. Dr. is just stupid. I have an MPH. I decided, in 1999, that I did not want a MS in military science. This left me with looking at the various programs offered in the area. I wanted a program that I would attend. Between 2011-2015 I did enough on-line courses through Coursera and EdEx that, while accumulating a lot of knowledge good for trivia and general enjoyment, I found that I missed the face-to-face interactions with faculty. UCHastings (Law School of which George is an Alumni) offered a Masters in Studies in Law (MSL). The program is designed for those already with advanced degrees in the fields of medicine, technology, business, with a grounding in law. The variety of courses offered is excellent, mostly relevant, and provides a completely different way of looking at one’s field from the legal/regulatory point of view. The two main downsides are cost and day-time only courses which means the program is not really accessible (yes, you can study part time and complete the degree over 4 years) for most working professionals.

Now you have the background. Let us move on to socratic methods of teaching.

No, lets us not. I would rather skip that whole mess. I am a doc, I like lectures; I like reading things that make sense, are exact and are consistent. Short is better and facts which are well known do not need references.

Moving on to law school exams. No, I am not in law school, but my classes are at a law school and my classes are filled with law students. Other than having the shortest and most concise essays of anyone on the first few exams (you could write more….) I ran into little problems understanding what the faculty member wanted out of me for the exam.

Then I hit a practice exam in Constitutional Law II and totally missed the point. I answered the question with real world knowledge. I know what the professor intended, but he used a real world situation, so I answered in kind. Wrong. He wasn’t looking for what was TRUE, he was looking for a logical essay on a couple of constitutional points and some definitions he thought might be of consideration.

The difference between this exam and the others? All of the others had used fake states, towns, cities or situations. I could take them as purely related to the legal principles. In contrast, ask me about deployment of National Guard and my mind goes from theory to reality. Repeat, I am a doc. Talk to me about “any patient” and I will give you an any patient answer. Ask me about a specific patient, and guess what you will get.

George just looked at me. Law school questions are a closed universe. Use only the information contained. It is an isolated universe. Reality “hat nicht zu tun.”

 

 

No photos

Holly Doyne Posted on by  

Ok, I thought I had the system beaten. It doe take sending out 2-3 emails rather than one, but it looks like I can possibly get group emails through the “new improvements” of Gmail. But then, things started bouncing today.

What was different? Oh, yes, photos. It looks like no attachments if it is a group email. Or rather, no included code. Ok, I can work around that – and can attempt to attach pictures? Or provide a link in the text which would go directly to the photo on my website. That might just work. But then I will have to figure out how many are allowed and if there are any special limits that gmail has placed without bothering to tell me.

I feel truly sorry for anyone who is trying to use GMAIL for business. No longer able to send out newsletters, for example. I have resisted switching back to yahoo.groups or google.groups because that would give them a permanent list of who I am sending to. That is just none of their business. The same for any of the emailing services. For me to do a group mail, I would have to upload a list of email addresses. Like I would do that?

All of which leave me with the question of a mailing list that has been running for 20 years. Since I am not on Facebook, nothing is there. Twitter? 140 characters. Not words, not paragraphs, characters. Enough said. Most days I actually want complete sentences maybe sprinkled with punctuation.  I am not egotistical enough to think that everyone is going to wander over to my webpage every day just to see if I have come up with something new. That puts the burden on you, rather than having me reach out.

What I will also be watching over the next few days is whether there are some particular systems which are more likely to sputter when an email from me arrives. At least then I could place all those poor souls (pour soles – got to love spellcheck) onto one of the three groups that now exist.

Meanwhile, I survived another run to SF for class this morning, managed to forget my vest in one of the faculty offices, and BARTed to Berkeley where I will spend the next couple of hours immersed in Public Health. Now, I just need to figure out how to access the course materials on line…

Norcal Benefit

Holly Doyne Posted on by 1

Or maybe it was NoCal? (5 Nov update – it was actually NorCal – title above edited to reflect correction provided by George)

Anyway, it was a benefit for the Cal Marching Band held last night at the University Club at the top level of the new  stadium.

There is a great view of the field –

good view of the field but not exactly a close up

from the outside seating area on the visitors end

From opposite of the stadium (University Club is on the West Side in case you hadn’t guessed

we had a great view of the sunset and San Francisco.

and the view toward the Golden Gate

and me without my decent camera. George thought I left it at home deliberately. All I can say is that I forgot it.. iPhone will have to do.

Anyway, the evening was to benefit the Marching Band. Yes, I know I said that before. Many of those present fell into the category of parent or band alumni along with partners. I think that George and I were the rare folks who, other than enjoying the band, have no real relationship to anyone in the band.

I had lovely conversations with former band members, parents of current band members and several band members as well. We didn’t buy raffle tickets and skipped the silent auction on some limited edition Grateful Dead Stuff. Sorry, but I am just not a Deadhead. Let someone else who really wants it, get it. I don’t have a qualm about just donating the money to them straight up.

What I didn’t mention was the need for ear plugs. We had two sessions from the Marching Band. As much as I enjoy them, the space is not conducive to large numbers of brass instruments. But the kids looked like they were having a great time and their reward was a most excellent flourless chocolate cake.

Today was a quiet day. I finished up a paper due on Tuesday and uploaded it before I changed my mind. Played a number of computer games, read a book, studied some more, did research on the National Guard (YES! I was right about Title 32 for operations out of home state) and otherwise tried to be sensible.

Yes, I know. Me sensible? It might just apply.

Whiskers

Holly Doyne Posted on by  

If personal information makes you squeamish, then please move on to something else.

There was a time in my life when I firmly believed that whiskers occurred on cats and guys who didn’t care to shave. One of the blessings of being female was fine, colorless facial hair which could just be ignored.

Let me tell you, the above is total and complete lie. It might be true for women prior to that wonderful change of life scientifically referred to as menopause. But afterwards? Not so much. For the first few years of my 50s I saw the occasional bristle which I promptly plucked out with a tweezers and otherwise forgot about.

Sometime in my 60s they turned white and just about as flexible as a boar bristle. One of the few positive things I can report about chemo is that they vanished, totally and completely. Now, I am not talking serious mustache or beard, just a few hairs sprouting here and there at random which actually was more aggravating. No way to predict where the next dastardly thing was going to show up, nor in what direction it would point.

Oh, I forgot to mention that little annoyance dropped on top of all the other irritation, did I? These suckers grew in random directions and seemed to manifest overnight complete with a curl on the end. The only embarrassment that I think is equivalent is that lovely time in late puberty where major, painful zits could sprout the morning of anything critical providing both distraction and a wish to vanish from the face of the earth.

So here I am at the cranky age of 68 with the old lady equivalent of zits. As various of my off-spring would say – it is NOT fair…..

Stealing our words

Holly Doyne Posted on by  

there are certain words which have definite meanings to us children of the 60s. Those of us who grew up with mainframes, set vocabularies and a sense of humor about the Jaberwok. Not so these modern children who think nothing of co-opting a perfectly well defined term or phrase and standing it on its head.

Tom Standage, in his Writing on the Wall, 2000 Years of Social Media
————->-8 ——–
(did you see what just happened? Rather than just assert something, I went and found a reference that backs up my point in order to give in emphasis and decrease the chance that someone might question it. After all, if someone else said it, it must be true. Meanwhile, I have been totally and completely corrupted. Do NOT under ANY circumstances have anything to do with lawyers, how they think or how they write. You will find yourself totally ruined by the experience. Trust me.)
————->-8 ——–
discusses social opinion, commentary and how opinions change. It is a fun book. But what I am discussing is something slightly different. It is the total and complete stealing of a term of art and changing it beyond recognition.

My disgust and anger today revolve around the degeneration in the use of “HACK.” This is a word that we all know. Whether it is from sports or a glancing familiarity with with axes or hatchets. I understand “hack” and it means to break in, by unauthorized means, through a computer software code or into someone’s computer (mainframe in the era where I started).

Some fool in the 1990s decided to combine two otherwise useful words – HACK and MARATHON into Hackathon. This poor bastard of a word implies a session where a bunch of computer geeks race their bleeding fingers in the pursuit of a software solution against a time clock (and others). Right from the start, there are several problems with this analogy: the first is that a marathon is an INDIVIDUAL (caps intended) race, not a collaboration; the second is that a marathon is a sporting event with specific rules. Back to hacking: the only rules in hacking are that you don’t give away your tricks in cracking into places that your are not supposed to be and you don’t rat out your fellow hacker. Seriously, comparing a group of nerds (present party included) who traditionally fuel on caffeine and Cheetos with seriously physically fit athletes is ludicrous.

So now we have “hackathons” most of which should be much more properly named “brainstorming sessions.” It isn’t computer people any more, the term has become wide spread and used by just about any group that wants a catchy idea for its symposium. All of this leads to what set me off in the first place.

A group of lawyers. Seriously, a group of lawyers – the field isn’t relevant but it was NOT related to tech or software – had a Hackathon in the student lounge at Hastings. They are sitting there in rows listening to various speakers, nodding their heads (those that weren’t taking notes or busy with their smart phones). There is not work-group space in sight.

Brainstorming? Conference? Working group? (well if a group has over a hundred participants). And, I repeat LAWYERS! who normally are extremely precise about their word usage. But there they sit, happily holding a hackathon.

I rest my case.

November rolled into the Bay Area

Holly Doyne Posted on by  

with blue skies and balmy temperatures. It was shirtsleeves in normally cool San Francisco with t-shirts and shorts in the East Bay.

The weather in much of the rest of the world hasn’t been as kind. But then, it would take a flaming sword, a burning bush and forty days of rain to make certain people believe that humans have an impact on their world beyond that of other creatures. Certainly science has not been successful, no matter how solid in convincing someone with fingers in their ears singing la-la-la-la that the world is not how they perceive it. That just because they believe does not make it so.

This is not Star Trek. The Captain can’t just say “make it so” and all the action then proceeds along the path best ordained to finish the story in the 60 minutes (minus commercials) that have been set aside for our entertainment.

My long sleeves and fuzzy vest which had been a comfort in the morning was now much more than I needed to be wearing. Those around me gave me those sideways looks which clearly could be interpreted as “you are an idiot and over dressed.” It was uncomfortable in San Francisco, it was well beyond insanity once I exited the BART in Berkeley and faced the several block dash to catch the 65 Bus up the hill.

Did I mention the earlier conversation with my well loved husband? The one where he said he was at an appointment in Oakland followed by a meeting in Berkeley? The one with the implication that he was going from one to the other. So there I am, hot, tired and whining as I stump up the driveway to find that he is home.

What!?!!!

I came home.

Why didn’t you tell me you could have picked me up.

Ummmmm.

Don’t you just love married communications? I am glad it was a beautiful day with a great sunset. It meant it wasn’t worth really getting upset.

 

Halloween

Holly Doyne Posted on by  

(attempt two – the first of course was eaten by the gremlins who hate me and anything I attempt to place in drafts. I don’t think it is personal, it is just what they do).

I had no clue about the Berkeley rules for Halloween Trick or Treating. Neither did George when I asked him on our way home after my Wednesday afternoon detour through the Intro to Public Health Course at Cal (the one which I so foolishly volunteered to help teach next semester). We thought about checking the rules for, oh, about ten seconds, then decided to blow the whole thing off.

My thought, evil woman that I am, is to leave the house dark and not encourage any sticky fingered critter to hike up our driveway in search of sweets. Saves me buying sweets, decorating, dressing up or running the risk of anyone falling and getting hurt on the march up the hill.

Then I thought about Trick or Treating in the US as a child of the 1950s. We dressed up in whatever our moms could make for costumes at home, then we were escorted around the neighborhood. You knew everyone, and they knew you. The only similar parallel I can draw today is all of those books nostalgic of small towns (remember Prairie Home Companion? All the women are smart, the men good looking and the children above average?). I remember two things clearly: the first is that normally in Minnesota at the end of October after dark it was freaking cold; the second was that I wasn’t all that interested in candy by 1-2 days afterwards.

Back to the present – there were a few houses in my area that decorated for the holiday and several in Shana’s area as well. Perhaps next year I will make the effort to get out with my camera.

The most interesting people

Holly Doyne Posted on by  

I am sure that I have mentioned that I travel BART four days a week into San Francisco to UCHastings. It is pretty much a different route than the one to the Oakland Coliseum. Short of the distance, it is the start of the route to the San Francisco Airport and Civc Center is a stop past the one where I exit at Powell to take the shuttle to the SFVA.

I meet the most interesting people on BART. This morning there were two:

The first was a gentleman older than me who was on his way to his office near the 12th Street Oakland BART station. He was already on the train when I boarded at North Berkeley. Kindly, he said he would offer me a seat, but that he really couldn’t stand well for the duration of his voyage. Sitting there, smiling and quite stooped in his suit and hat, I had him pegged as a lawyer even before he confirmed my opinion. He is now doing briefs and depositions one-two days a week. He had cut back his practice several years ago during his late wife’s loosing battle with cancer and chemo. We had a short discussion about curls vs straight hair and return growth that wasn’t all that amenable to cosmetic coloring. He acknowledged that he had long hair during his youth but cut it at the point where it became a bit easier to conform.

We said good bye at the 12th street station and I wished him the best on his upcoming 90th birthday.

I quietly sat in his vacated seat from 12th Street through to my stop at Civic Center. The train conductor had been making cheerful comment on the area around each BART station. Montgomery as “Wall Street West;” Powell as the start of the Trolley Car Line. I made the off hand remark to the guy next to me when Civic Center was referred to as “the heart of the Tenderloin” that they had missed the point because the lawyers probably outnumbered the homeless. He laughed and said that he and his wife worked for one of the local homeless organizations. She worked on housing families, his background in engineering and repair meant that he was doing a lot of maintenance in order to have facilities at least marginally acceptable and safe. We talked about the weather and the attraction of San Francisco for the homeless (compared to New England – where he was from, or Minnesota for me). The services here make a difference, but then, with the cost of living compared to the minimum wage, there have to be support services.

The rest of my day should be interesting – morning class in Constitutional Law (working on individual privacies related to the 1st Amendment) followed by a discussion of class conflicts in time for next semester, followed by a lunch seminar on how to survive finals (bribe – food was provided). I have yet to get through my afternoon Health Law Class and then the final class on Legal Writing. Oral Presentation due.

I am planning on George being responsible for dinner.

and I am trying to remember why I am doing this to myself….

 

It could have been worse

Holly Doyne Posted on by  

or, it really isn’t all that bad.

Either way, I am less anxious about a particular assignment than I was last week. I don’t know if I mentioned it, but I spent a weekend being totally and completely impossible to live with. My otherwise really great Legal Writing Prof decided that it would be good for us to write an appellate brief. Yep, one of those multiple page highly formatted (complete with a bajillion and one citations) briefs related to a particular fact pattern and politely telling a particular panel of judges that the previous panel got it wrong.

Why on earth would I want to do THAT?

It is not that I mind going down successive rabbit holes after detailed information. Both regular medicine and public health can both be about the details and figuring out, among all the red herrings – what is really going on.

But writing about it in a particularly technical manner? And, no matter what anyone attempts to tell me about “it all should be written in plain English” well, let me just say that is NOT the reality. So I spent all of last weekend either attempting to put that particular sucker together and not so quietly going nuts. The insanity continued well into Tues. There was a deadline of 1530 which I didn’t make, but managed to toss something together which made a late deadline in the early evening. It was written, it was argued. It was not cited. I had the cases but just was sick of the whole thing.

Between then and now, I really had been trying to ignore that particular bit of idiotic draft but today had myself convinced that I really should start on the redo. Then George reads it and tells me that he thinks I got all the main points and I just need to add some citations.

As turns out, he has actually written appellate briefs (I had forgotten about all the housing work he did for Legal Services in the late 70s and how much of it was paperwork followed by arguing before a judge. He is also not a fan of “baffle them with bullshit” so I figure to have the shortest submission.

But then, I am not a lawyer and am seriously resisting being brainwashed into believing that there are two valid sides to every law, argument or discussion. Repeat, I am not a lawyer, I don’t check my morals at the door resulting in mandatory ethics classes in all law schools….

And on to a take home exam….

Not off the end of the earth

Holly Doyne Posted on by  

Contrary to public opinion, I have not been ill, injured or fallen off the face of the earth.

Instead I have been alternating periods of being overwhelmed with requirements for school with periods where I am refusing to deal with reality.

And no, this has nothing to do with bipolar disease – which I have been completely spared from experiencing – but rather a method of self preservation that falls short of digging a hole and pulling that hole in after me.

This is not quite the same as when I experienced the fun and games of War College. That was a lot of reading, only if one did it. Back in the day prior to uploading of papers and specificity on which software, style, font and formatting – it was enough to get the papers postmarked (you remember postmarks – right? Taking something personally to the post office and asking them to stamp it so that it was proof that the particular item had entered the system prior to the deadline….) to say that you had completed the assignment.

Not so in today’s world where the ability to specify just about everything has engendered an overwhelming need on the part of certain organizations/people to do just that. For example – school is wedded to death (or complete blow up of the Internet – writ large – to the use of Microsoft Word. And specified margins, and indents and type fonts and spacing and …. you get the idea.

Now, I can see when dealing with the teen crowd which might want to include pink ponies, space ships or robots-fonts that beings specific might be a simple necessity so that the reader of said papers doesn’t go complete and totally around the bend in 15 minutes or less. I would think that law students (and the associated persons in graduate school) would be beyond that kind of creativity and wish for a more professional look to their papers.

Wait a minute! I am speaking about lawyers – the single most dedicated group to conformity in the world. Write alike, think alike, dress alike, act alike and leave humanity at the door in the name of practicing law. It is also the solo profession that has seriously increased their requirements for ethics training in the last several years and requires pro- bono work as condition of maintaining a license to practice law.

All of this is an aside to explain exactly why I haven’t been exactly streaming drivel and other content in your direction for the last several weeks.

I am alive. I am healthy. But, thoroughly sick of attempting to create (!) professional sounding writings on something which I care nothing about. I have decided that being irritated is part and parcel  of not being a lawyer and will help me maintain a bit of individuality over the next few months.

But I don’t want Bing

Holly Doyne Posted on by  

For whatever reason, one of my browsers has decided to default to BING regardless of which engine is in change when I start the search.

I am neither amused or pleased. The list I have generated pops up, followed by a hijack of the page to the new search engine. It is only Chrome, not Safari which means, more than likely that I will be stuck completely the use of the native Apple browser. Blocking Bing hasn’t worked. Deleting it multiple times doesn’t work and I challenge any but the most game worth of opponents to be able to beat out the millisecond or so where my preferred page with link appears before blinking away.

Perhaps this is another one of those “another improvement for your safety and convenience” improvements? Kind of like the signs along the Pennsylvania Turnpike in the mid-70s where the next sign would say “No Guard Rails for the next 25 miles?”

in other words, we think it will be better, somehow, some way and perhaps some day, but proceed at your own risk.

turning 68

Holly Doyne Posted on by  

This birthday is passing quietly with no fanfare, announcements or celebration. It isn’t a major milestone (other than the fact that I have survived yet another year).

In Germany, you really celebrate the decade birthdays. In the US, well there are milestone years – 21, 40, 65… which most people seem to think are of import. The first because it is now the “age of adulthood” as far as drinking in the US. Never mind you can marry, join the military or sign contracts at 18 – ETOH seems to be what most people equate with adulthood. 40 is a magic number. It has been traditionally that year in which you really have to acknowledge that you are an adult. You are supposed to be firmly ensconced in job/family and all the other accoutrements of settled responsibility. And, let us not forget, you might just be over half way through with your life. 65? That one used to be obvious. It was the standard retirement age recognized by the US government as being both eligible to collect your social security AND being on the Medicare rolls.

Now, let me reflect for a moment. At 21 I was through undergraduate and looking at medical school. Drinking? I did ‘t have the money for that. Besides, legal drinking age in Minnesota at that time was 18. Meaning, of course that just about everyone who wanted to drink in high school was able to do so. The average family size in my area was 5.6 children (hello? high school stats class). Just about everyone had an older brother/sister/cousin etc who didn’t mind buying and supplying a six-pack or some of what was considered the height of sophistication – Boon’s Farm Apple or MadDog 20/20.

At 40 I was stationed at Ft Drum busy being a division surgeon. This was about nine years into my military career. Interesting events including hatching Noah (being pregnant at 40 was less fun than at earlier ages), Hurricane Andrew, relocating to the Army Surgeon General’s Office for an “interesting 2 year tour.” (think Gilligan’s Island). Did I think ½ my life was gone? No clue, I hardly had time to think. Did I think I was an adult? Well, I masqueraded as one. Had to as I was in a couple of positions “of significant responsibility” as the phrase goes.  Being a parent of an infant and toddler at that age really balances the scales in the direction of claiming, at least superficially, to be an adult. The Eldest was spared the worst of provincial Ft Drum.

At 65? I was out to sea. Literally. I made sure after getting invited to retire in 2011 that I was never, ever anywhere that someone would feel obligated to call me out or make a fuss. I was an adult as far as the military went. In fact, I was considered well “past my prime” as they had the too many years of service and, BTW, you are “old too” point of view. As far as Medicare went? I figured out that the VA qualified and spared myself the hunk that everyone else gets taken out of their retirement paycheck every month. Unlike Medicare – the VA will actually pay for emergency care (service related which everything is for me) anywhere in the world as long as I notify them promptly.

So here I am, waving goodby to another year while relaxing in Rome. Interesting meeting, good knowledge. Safe and secure in the knowledge that no one knows and or cares about my age.

We both made it

Holly Doyne Posted on by 4

Did I mention that Carmen was joining me in Rome?

Our original plan involved us being here for 4-5 days, moving on to BCN and picking up Vision on of the Seas for a frolic around the Med before sailing across the Atlantic. That was what I had planned in May/June of 2017. Made all my reservations this past Feb.

Then I got the wild hair to go back to grad school which stood my plans on their head. It isn’t like I can just disappear for four weeks. I think I have previously mentioned that, unlike other fields, accreditation for legal education in the US requires attendance in class. Yes, that is right – attendance in class is mandatory. I am not sure why. Perhaps it is to justify continuing the system, thought pattern, and attitudes of the current educational trends. One would not want to believe that law could be learned on its own. Oh, wait a minute – it is! At least in California you can still do an apprenticeship (5 years) and sit for the Bar exam. But Law, like Medicine, is a relatively insular educational process that is highly regulated and controlled. Medicine, at least when I studied didn’t require attendance at lecture courses. The knowledge was on you. Labs and clinics were another matter. But I can easily draw a difference between didactic presentations and hands-on training.

The end result is that I have to go back to my ordinary life on Thursday while Carmen gets to float on a boat.

The hotel complex is lovely. Clean, well laid out and welcoming. The staff is more organized that many of the Italian hotels that I have used in the past. Dinner was pasta in the hotel restaurant with a Canadian colleague before we both were hit with time zone wack and needed sleep.

Where did the day go

Holly Doyne Posted on by  

It sort of vanished. The 29th of Sept that is. Eaten up by flights and time zone changes. After all, when you board a plane in the evening, stay on it for 13 hours plus adding on the fact that traveling east adds on the hours – well, there you are? 13 hours on a plane + 10 hours in time zone changes and a day just vanishes. Totally and completely gone.

I managed to sleep, the food once again was excellent. The lounge in Istanbul is wonderful. Arriving in Rome on the other hand…. we arrived at 2345 and then taxied for about 15 minutes. Followed by a bus ride to the main terminal. Coming in from Turkey means EU Immigration. Since I hadn’t checked anything this time, I headed straight for passport control to find that the automated machines had been turned off for the night.

flying in

The line looked to be several hundred long with only two counters open. I decided to believe a small secondary sign, backing out of the queue and joining the EU line. The Immigration official just looked at me, spent a few seconds paging through my passport to find a partially empty page, then stamped me through.
I was more than ready for sleep when I arrived at the hotel.