9/11 Remembered

Like a lot of folks around the country today, I’m taking this opportunity to commit to writing my thoughts and memories of THE defining, tragic event of my lifetime (so far). I wasn’t born when John F. Kennedy was shot. I was born during the Apollo program, but I have absolutely no memory of it. Perhaps my earliest newsworthy memory is watching the evacuation of the American embassy in Saigon in 1975 on a small black and white TV. I had no clue what it was all about though. I just remember thinking “Cool, there’s a helicopter on TV.” I have clear memories of both shuttle disasters.

None of those events even comes close in my mind to shock and utter disbelief that I felt after the falling of the Twin Towers. None of those events, in my opinion, had nearly the impact that 9/11 had on American society.

Tuesday, September 11, 2001, started out like any other work day for me with one exception. I rode my motorcycle to work. It’s a small detail, but it is important to some of my impressions of later in the day. I rode the bike because there were a few of us in the office that had bikes, and we all had lunch together on Tuesdays when we were in the office as Hooters offered half price wings to anyone who rode a motorcycle in for lunch.

The first plane hit early enough in the day (at least in the Central time zone where I am) that I had barely gotten to work and settled before it happened. I remember talking with one of my motorcycle friends when our director came around and gave us the news. He was on his way to set up a TV in the break room. Practically the entire office of 150 people crowded into the breakroom. We managed to get a clear picture just in time to watch the second tower get hit live.

At that moment, we all knew it was no accident. You’d have to have been a fool to think otherwise. After the initial gasps of amazement and shock, you could have heard a pin drop in that room. For a crowd of jaded insurance adjusters, that’s saying a lot. Needless to say, all work pretty much came to a screeching halt.

After spending a couple of hours watching the news coverage in the breakroom, the needs of the human body took over as groups of us took off to get food. Our motorcycle group headed for Hooters as scheduled. That may seem somewhat incongruous for the seriousness of the day, but there was a practical benefit to our choice of venue. Being a sports bar, Hooters had TVs all over the place. We chose a table right next to the main big screen which was, of course, tuned to a nes station. Whether it was CNN or Fox News, I don’t recall. We ate our wings in a slightly more subdued mood than normal and speculated about what would happen next.

During lunch, we got a call from the office that the company was shutting down for the day. It seems that the powers that be recognized that nobody anywhere was in the mood to conduct business, and they wisely turned everyone loose to do whatever they needed to do.

I made my way back to the house, turned on the TV and watched more news coverage. At some point, I don’t recall exactly what time but it was definitely in the afternoon, I heard on the news that the local blood banks were setting up at Dallas Market Hall and Will Rogers Center in Fort Worth to handle donations. No one had any idea at this point what was going to happen, how many casualties there would be, if there were going to be more attacks or what. Nevertheless, donating blood seemed like a good idea at the time.

To A LOT of people.

I made my way to Will Rogers in Fort Worth on the motorcycle, and I was absolutely floored by the number of people already there to donate blood. It was literally in the thousands. It was probably 3:00 or 4:00 by the time I got there. I know for a fact that it was after 9:00 PM before I got my turn to donate blood, and I was one of the last 50 or so people to be allowed to give blood that day at Will Rogers. I couldn’t tell you how many people were turned away from giving blood that day (since I was trudging my through the line slowly inside), but I wouldn’t be surprised if several hundred and maybe even a 1000 people were turned away in Fort Worth alone.

As I headed home on the motorcycle that night in the dark with light traffic and nothing but the sound of my motorcycle’s exhaust to keep my thoughts company, I was struck by the utter emptiness of the sky. I live in the Dallas/Fort Worth metroplex. On any given night, I can walk outside and see no less than a dozen aircraft in the sky at any one time. This is a byproduct of living near the second largest airport in the U.S. in addition to a smaller regional airport, at least three decent sized general aviation airports supporting business jet activity and a major military airbase. By 9:30/10:00 that night though, there was not a single plane in the sky thanks to the FAA grounding everything.

It was eerie.

When you become accustomed to something being there all the time and then it it’s just not there, it’s downright disconcerting. For whatever reason, it was that empty sky more than anything that drove home the seriousness of the day’s events. I don’t know if I’ll ever see something like that again in my life time.

I do know this though. Even though I was not a member of the police or fire, even though I was not a member of the military, even though I didn’t lose any family or friends that day, I will never forget that day as long as I live.

One Month Down

By the time you read this (since I’m drafting it in the middle of my Wednesday night Torts class…I know…bad student, no bonus points – never fear, I’m keeping up with my class notes in another screen), I will have completed my first month (4 weeks actually) of law school. I have this to say about that….

My brain is full.

Not really, but it feels that way.

I’m still not getting much sleep. For instance, I had great intentions of getting to sleep before midnight last night after getting home from class at about 10:30 PM. No such luck. It was 1:30 before I finally put head to pillow; and, even then, I don’t think I actually snored until 2:00 AM. Caffeine is helping keep me awake, but it has a price. Friday night to Saturday afternoon, I slept for 13 hours and probably could have slept for another couple of hours if it weren’t for the fact that The Queen was cooking brunch and I was hungry.

Sleep isn't the only thing I'm losing. Since I started school, I've dropped between 15 and 20 pounds. Before school, I fluctuated between 245 to 250. After four weeks, I'm down to 230. If I could be in shape and 230, I wouldn't complain too much (even though 210 is a better weight for me). However, the likelihood of exercise leading to me being in shape happening before the end of my law school career is between slim and none. 

My academic support class went through all the tasks an evening law student who works full time is supposed to accomplish in the number of hours available in any given week. For those who are interested, there are 168 hours available to us in any 7 day period. Try as we might to get a few more hours squeezed in here or there, that’s the ball game. Now, take away 40 hours for work, 49 hours for sleep (if you are generous and give yourself 7 hours a night), 12 hours actually at the school, and 33 hours for study (if you devote the recommended 3 hours of study per classroom hour). Just for these tasks alone you’re at 134 hours out of your week not including going to the bathroom, taking showers, eating, grocery shopping, commuting, etc. If you are really lucky, you are left with about 15 hours a week to spend relaxing, spending time with family, vegetating, etc.

I didn’t write about this last week because there was no time; however, I had an interesting discussion with my Torts professor after class last week. During her lecture, she made a brief comment that she was scared of guns (the case we were discussing had something to do with firearms). After class, I approached her to find out where she was coming from on the subject. She said that she was uncomfortable with the whole idea of an object that can kill you. Despite that, she does not take the position that all guns should be banned. She thinks the ownership of guns should be heavily regulated, but she is okay with the use of guns for self defense and hunting. Interestingly, she did not think target shooting was a valid use for firearms. I discussed firearm safety, crime rates, etc. She seemed to be open to the thought that a firearm in the hands of a properly trained owner is no danger to anyone when the Four Rules are followed. It was an interesting and cordial discussion.

In other news, one of my colleagues has decided to throw in the towel. It hit pretty close to home because it was one of the members of my Criminal Law class study group. I was expecting the herd to be thinned out a little as time moved on due to grades, life and other inconveniences. However, I was not expecting it to occur this soon. This particular student sent me and the other members of the group an email on Tuesday just before class. It came as a total surprise to all of us. He seemed to be getting the material and hadn’t voiced any reservations to us about his continuing with school. His email didn’t elaborate on his reasons other than to suggest that he had been doing some soul searching. I can respect that, and I wished him well. I do feel sorry for him on one thing. He missed the deadline to get a full refund on tuition. So, it’s an expensive decision if nothing else.

I also have my first major assignment due next week in my Legal Analysis, Research and Writing class. In a way, I feel like I am back in high school English class: write a memo not to exceed 5 pages, double spaced….yada, yada, blah, blah, blah. That will be my life this weekend (in addition to tiling the pantry and laundry room). Fortunately, the research part of the assignment has been provided to us so that we can spend our time on our analysis and writing. Adding the research into the equation comes later. Fun times in the library coming my way.

Speaking of the library, one of my early assignments involved searching through case law reporters in the library for specific information. Reporters are bound volumes of court rulings on individual cases. For instance, the reporter for the appellate courts in Texas is called the Southwestern Reporter. There are currently 3 series of volumes going back into the 1800s. Each series contains volumes numbered from 1 to 999 (except for the current 3RD series which is still developing). In the library, these volumes are all grouped together by series in numerical order. So, 2ND series volume 665 comes after volume 664 and before volume 666, etc. During this library assignment, I was amazed to discover that allegedly intelligent post graduate students in law CAN’T COUNT. Twice, I found volumes of a particular reporter shelved out of numerical order. It really annoyed me because the volume I needed for my assignment was one of the ones mis-shelved necessitating a search to hunt down where it WAS shelved. I can’t even give the errant shelver the benefit of a dyslexia exception because the volume placed where the one I needed had no numerical connection to the two it was between. I can’t remember exactly, but it was like having volume 285 between volumes 697 and 699.

Another little library incident was the part of the assignment which found the book I needed in a section of the library that was on the border of the area under remodeling. Plastic sheeting to protect the books from dust was taped to the floor and the bookshelf right where I needed to be to get the book I needed to answer a particular question. It’s a good thing I have long arms, but I hope they don’t notice the size 11 tear on the plastic.

Finally, I haven’t mentioned the adoption process in a while. The Queen and I have completed our required classes. The Queen has had her one on one in person interview. Mine is scheduled for this Friday. After that, we have the home inspection where they tell us what we need to do we get the house ready for kids. Then, if I understand this correctly, we will be licensed foster parents on the list to have kids placed with us. We are cautiously excited.

That’s all for now. If you need me, I’ll be the unconscious one under the pillows.

Fun with Calculators

A while back, I posted about the weird, mathematical places my brain goes when I am alone in a car. It probably says something very Freudian about me that guns and math occur in the same train of thought. However, that post turned out to be very popular. So, whatever.

Since I am back to commuting again on a regular basis for the first time in about three years, I've gotten back into my solitary, reflective ways. As I was on my commute to law school this evening, I was reminded of a period in my life not too long ago when I was forced to commute from Dallas to Houston on a weekly basis for work...for a period of two years. I chose to make the four hour drive myself in my own car instead of trying to fly or take the bus.

There is a reason my 2000 Nissan Maxima has over 312,000 miles on it, but I digress. 

It was during this time of massively insane commuting that I had another fit of mathematical mind wandering. Since gas was selling for $3.89 a gallon at the time, you can guess where this is going. 

Yep, I just had to try and figure out how much money I was spending every time a cylinder in the engine fired.

And, being the sharing type, I now bequeath this knowledge to you. 

My car has a 4 stroke, 6 cylinder engine with an 18.5 gallon gas tank. In a 4 stroke engine, a cylinder fires once for every two revolutions of the crankshaft. Let's start our gas mileage calculations assuming you maintain an average speed of 60 miles per hour and that the car gets 30 miles to the gallon at that speed. My Maxima's best observed MPG so far was 34. So, it's doable.

60 miles in 60 minutes (1 hour) = 1 mile per minute

30 MPG at 60 MPH = 2 gallons per hour

18.5 gallon tank divided by 2 gallons per hour = 9.25 hour range/tank

18.5 gallon tank times 30 MPG = 555 mile range/tank

2100 RPM at 60 MPH = 126,000 crankshaft revolutions per hour

2100 RPM = 1050 individual cylinder fires per minute

1050 times 6 = 6300 total engine fires per minute

6300 times 60 = 378,000 fires per hour

2 gallons per hour = .03333 gallons per minute

6300 times .033333 = 189,018.9 fires per gallon

128 ounces per gallon

2 gallons per hour times 128 ounces per gallon = 256 ounces per hour

1 ounce = 1.8046875 cubic inches

128 ounces divided by 189,018.9 fires = .00067725 ounces per fire (= 0.0012222246094 cubic inch/20.029 cubic millimeter)

$3.89 per gallon = $0.3039 per ounce

$0.3039 per ounce times .00067725 ounces per fire = $0.00002058 per fire

So, to recap, every time a cylinder in a 6 cylinder engine running at 60 miles per hour averaging 30 miles per gallon, you are spending a little over 2 one thousandths of a cent. They tend to add up pretty quickly though.

Imagine That

I just realized that my two year blogiversary passed by on August 18; and, apparently, no one noticed. Including me.

Man, I really need to get some sleep.

Law School Wisdom

I thought I'd take a moment at the end of a very long day to impart a little wisdom from class earlier this evening (actually yesterday at this point).

"You have two ears and one mouth: use them in that proportion." - Anonymous

Or, for those of us who are mathmagically challenged, talk half as much as you listen.

If you need it simpler than that, I can't help you. You were probably too busy talking to listen anyway.

This Week In Review

Well, the first week of law school is in the books. In more ways than one. I apologize in advance for being generally brain dead, incoherent, and otherwise pre-occupied. It’s to be expected I suppose. I am keeping up with my blog reading. Writing and commenting are suffering for what I presume are obvious reasons. So, under the Spider Robison “Callahan’s” theory that shared pain is lessened and shared joy is increased, I thought I’d take this opportunity to share some observations and thoughts from the past week or so.

The total enrollment for my incoming class (we are informally referred to as “1L” meaning first year law students) including day and evening students is about 225 people. There are 70 of us in the part time evening program. As the dean pointed out in all seriousness during orientation, 90% of us won’t be in the top 10%. Really? I didn’t know that. Thank you, Mr. Obvious. All mocking aside, my goal actually is to make the top 10% which I think is a reasonable and attainable goal given my experience and background.

Another observation from the first day of class, was the responses from the “ice breaker intros” during my “lock step” Torts class (lock step just means that everyone does the same classes in their first year). We have a group of folks with a fairly diverse set of backgrounds including 4 or 5 claims adjusters, 4 or 5 police officers, some law firm employees, a couple of engineers, a genuine research scientist, a stay at home mom or two, some fresh out of undergrad folks with a mix of “other”. There was one snark meister who claimed to be a “stay at home son.”

What surprised me most from the icebreakers was not the diversity of the backgrounds, but the high number of folks who admitted to having no idea what they planned to do with their law degree. At least a dozen people in the class of 70 have gone through the hassle to apply for law school and committed themselves to a four year total cost in excess of $80,000 with no plan of what they want to do once they are turned loose on the world. I’m sure some of those people are still discovering what area of law will be a good fit for them, but it was painfully obvious that a couple of them chose law school as a means of continuing to avoid the “real world”. Then there was the one guy who said he wants to be a lawyer so he can fight his speeding tickets. I really can’t argue with that. At least he has a plan.

Hitting the books takes on a whole new meaning in law school. Hitting the wallet is more like it. The 7 or 8 books required for my three classes cost $620. None of these would be considered light reading.

Reading is a major component of my life for the next 3 months or so. Analyzing what we read and writing about it is the other component. It has been suggested that we will need to read everything at least twice to successfully “get it.” There is a strong hint that three times might be better.

I really enjoyed the first case we read for the Criminal Law class. It was an appellate decision of a British criminal case from the 1800s. Three British seamen found themselves in the unfortunate situation of having to abandon ship into a life boat 1000 miles from the nearest land with limited provisions. Many days transpired with no land or ship in site. Provisions were consumed, and starvation ensued. One of the poor, unfortunate souls happened to be a young lad of 17 or 18 who was in worse shape than the other two. The two older, stronger survivors suggested that the boy should sacrifice himself so that the others could live. The boy, as you might imagine, was not a fan of this plan. Eventually, the boy went to sleep at which time one of the older men made sure that he did not wake up. Finger sandwiches and Bloody Maries were on the menu for the next few days until the remaining two were picked up by a passing ship four days after the Jeffrey Dahmer Memorial Banquet began. They were, of course, arrested and tried for murder. The appeal was about whether or not their actions were in accordance with naval tradition which held that cannibalism was acceptable in extreme, dire circumstances if the process of selecting the meals on wheels was fair, impartial and consented to by all.

Remind me not to go sailing with any Brits.

Sleep is a thing of the past. I don’t think I’ve been to sleep before 1:00 AM since school started. Might not happen tonight. We shall see.

I would like to know which janitorial genius thought it’d be a great idea to close off the main restrooms on the second floor for cleaning at the exact time that a 1L lock step class of 70 people not including other upper level classes were letting out for the evening.

I’ve already had two assignments due…both of which I successfully turned in on time. I’ve completed two other assignments not due until next week early. So, hopefully I can keep up with that at least.

Two of my classes will have 100% of the grade based on a single, final exam at the end of the semester. No pressure.

It’s late. I’m way too tired, and the bags under my eyes are getting heavier. So, that’s all for now. Good night. I’ll try to write when I find work. Posting will be erratic at best until I find a rhythm that works.

Kitten Fight

Kitten Fight is an exciting new game based on the perennially favorite game wildly popular with all ages, Snowball Fight. Kitten Fight was invited here in the Lonestar State by bored rednecks who were sadly unable to engage in the traditional pastime of Snowball Fighting due to the obvious lack of snow. Not ones to be thwarted by a lack of frozen precipitation, ingenious rednecks burdened with an over abundance of small, fluffy white kittens noted the striking similarity between the infantile felines and the traditional orb shaped, snowy projectiles and a fun filled afternoon in 100+ degree heat ensued. 

It should be noted that proper precautions should be taken by those participating in Kitten Fights. Proper attire is essential as you do not want your Sunday best to be ruined by blood (yours...those little claws are sharp) or poo (theirs...a flying kitten can be stricken with fright induced diarrhea).

If you haven't guessed already, this is total satire. No kittens were harmed in the making of this post. In fact, the little fluff ball attached to my chest had just decided that the little pocket created by my 12 pack abs, sternum and moobs made for the perfect kitten recliner. He zonked out for a couple of minutes before deciding he was needed elsewhere.