Southeast Showdown

Sunday morning, JP ran the 800, then the 2 mile, in the KYAC's Southeast Showdown at Norton Healthcare & Learning Center's indoor track facility in Louisville.  Although it's not in the best part of town, it's a beautiful facility with tracks indoor and out.  Really, really nice.

We arrived in plenty of time for JP to warm up and for me to watch various other track and field events.  60 yard dash.  200 meter dash.  Pole vault.  It was all going on simultaneously, as the organizers made use of every square inch of space to efficiently run a large indoor track meet.  It was very different from the indoor track meet a few weeks ago at Vanderbilt.  Less crowded.  Bigger facility.  Better organized.  All events running on time.  

While I waited for JP to run in the second heat of the 800, I set up my camping chair in a quiet spot and read the New Yorker.  That's me, I guess.  The urbane track and field dad.  Give me the New Yorker and, really, I'm fine, anytime and anywhere.

JP finished second in his heat, clocking a 2:00:01, which was 10th overall.  The winner ran 1:55:95, so the top ten were bunched pretty close together.  I think JP would have liked to go under 2:00:00 because that seems to be the dividing line between the fast and really fast 800 runners.  He got squeezed, again, at the beginning of the race.  My thought, and probably his, is that if he would have fought to hold an inside position early, he likely could have run a 1:58:00.  Still, a good race overall and part of the learning process for him.

The 2 mile race was interesting, as it was one he hadn't run in competition before.  I was looking forward to seeing what and how he would run, from a strategy and performance standpoint.  He ran in the first of two heats.  

When the race started, there was some jostling near lanes three and four, where JP started out.  He shouldered a boy that tried to squeeze past him, holding his position in line, which was the right move.  I think that's the kind of aggressiveness he's looking for in the 800 and the mile moving forward.  

JP quickly moved into third place and stayed with the first group of four runners as they pulled away from the pack a few laps into the race.  16 laps total is a lot of laps but JP told me later that Coach Russ and suggested he break it down into 16 one lap races and try to hit his time for each lop, which is what he did.  It would have been difficult for me to keep with what lap the boys were running were I not standing across from the start/finish line with a clear view of the man changing the lap sign as the boys ran by him. 

Not quite halfway through the race, JP and two other runners pulled away from everyone else, as it became apparent it was going to be a three man race.  A young, African American runner led from the beginning and stayed in the lead, with JP running a comfortable third behind the second place runner, a senior from Beech HS.  I knew JP had a move left in him.  The only question was when he was going to make it.

At the beginning of lap 15, JP began to surge.  He passed the runner from Beech HS and as they ran down the far straightaway, I heard the announce say "JP Newman has moved into 2nd place . . . ".  My adrenaline surged as JP closed the gap with the leader on the far turn and approached the line.  He's going to get him, I thought.  The bell rang signaling the final lap and JP ran by me in 2nd place.  

Suddenly, as he ran through the near turn to begin the final lap, the Beech HS runner turned on the speed.  He started sprinting, passed JP, and began to run down the first place runner.  He caught him on the far turn and sprinted to the finish to win in a really strong race for him.  JP finished third at 9:41:80, four seconds behind the winner and less than two seconds behind the boy who led most of the race.

In retrospect, JP thought he probably broke too early and should have waited until the final lap, like the boys from Beech HS.  That would have made for a helluva race.  Still, you live and learn, right?  It was JP's first time running a 2 mile race and, really, it was fascinating to watch.  I was proud of him, of course.  I can't help but be excited about what is to come.

JP and his classmate, Gabe Guillamondegui.

JP and Jack Wallace, a senior at MBA who is running at Furman next year.

Louisville

On of my hidden talents is finding coffee shops.  Good ones.  

I'm in Quill's, in Louisville, KY.  It's a block behind the hotel JP and I are staying in.  We're in town for him to run in a high school indoor track meet later today.

Actually, I'm customer no. 1 in Quill's this morning, which is the way I like it.  I walked in at 7 a.m., just after they opened for Sunday.  It's still dark outside, as we're on Eastern Standard Time.  There's still some ice on the sidewalks from the last snow.  I love the early morning quietude of a coffee shop.  This morning, there is music playing in the background.  Baristas talking quietly, as I sit at a table in the corner, comfortably cloistered away with my laptop.  These are moments I wish I could stretch, so they would last longer.

Later this morning, JP is running the 800 and the 2 mile.  This isn't as big of an indoor meet as was at Vanderbilt a few weeks ago but it's a good, competitive field, I think.  It will be interested to see how JP does in the 2 mile, as it's his first time to run it in competition.  There are only two heats, so it's not a race that too many runners are running.  

Something tells me I will be spending a lot of early mornings in coffee shops over the next two and a half years.  JP is serious about running cross country and track in high school and beyond, so I suspect there are a lot of out of town races and meets on the horizon for me.  I love it.

It's so easy to forget about work when I am on the road.  Although we're less than three hours away from Nashville, it seems like we're worlds away.  Time slows down, even on an overnight trip like this one.  We had a nice meal at Ciao Ristorante last night with Tara and Gabe and I've got good coffee.  What else do I need?

  

Big Day for Big Joe

Joe takes the ISEE test today at MBA, so it's a big day for him.  That's the Independent Schools Entrance Exam that middle school children take before 7th grade.  ISEE results are a big part of what private schools look at when considering prospective 7th grade students.  Most of the kids, Joe included, take a review course the fall prior to taking the ISEE.

Taking the ISEE is a lot of pressure on Joe.  He knows what is at stake.  He desperately wants to follow his brother to MBA.  He has felt that way since the day JP walked onto campus three and half years ago.  In some ways, Joe has taken as much pride in JP's accomplishments at MBA as anyone.  He wants to follow in his footsteps there, while charting his own course, too.  I want that for him, too.  

Most of all, of course, I want Joe to be happy.  He's a once in a lifetime kid, touching and inspiring everyone with whom he comes into contact.  Adults love him because he's articulate, intelligent, inquisitive, and conversant in so many subjects.  Kids love him because he's kind, caring, funny, and above all, a leader.  Some boys have it.  Joe certainly does.  Almost every day, I marvel at how blessed I am to have the boys I have.  

This morning, though, I'm a little nostalgic, I must admit.  It seems to me that for the most part, childhood ends after 6th grade for kids these days.  Middle school - real middle school - begins in 7th grade.  Really, it's like two years of pre-high school.  5th and 6th grade are like two years of post-elementary school.  Those are maybe the best two years for a boy, 5th and 6th grade.  Preteen.  Still a boy.  Hopefully, naive to a point.  No cell phone.  No social media.  Innocent.  

No major tests at school.  No dances to worry about inviting girls to or getting invited to.  For a 6th grader - at least for my 6th grader - life revolves around playing sports, watching sports, watching The Office, reading, playing Madden '25 or NHL '25 on the Xbox with your big brother, and St. Patrick Catholic Church on Sundays.

Yes, that precious human commodity, innocence, is starting to fade away for Joe.  He can't help but hear about school shootings, like the unspeakable tragedy at Covenant and just this week, Antioch High School.  Athletic limitations.  Friends changing schools.  Girls.  All of it on the horizon, drifting inexorable toward him, but thankfully, not here quite yet.

There's still time.  A little bit of it, anyway.  

Good luck today, Joe.  

Time to Take a Breath

In December, I knew January and February were going to be rough at work.  The proverbial calm before the storm, mostly because my calendar was packed with mediations - my cases and cases I was set to mediate for others, court appearances, depositions, and meetings with current clients.  On top of that, of course, I teach a class at Nashville School of Law on Wednesday nights.  

As it turned out, I've been so busy it's been hard to schedule potential clients for consultations on my calendar.  Last weekend, I met with a potential client on Saturday morning at a coffee shop.  Then, on Sunday morning, I met with a client at the office for three hours to prepare for a hearing Tuesday morning.  I spent Sunday evening preparing for a mediation, also on Tuesday.

As I sit here this morning with coffee at The Henry, three weeks into January, I've stumbled upon an unexpected moment to take a breath.  Today was set aside to prepare for a deposition I was taking all day on Friday.  The deposition canceled yesterday, which freed up today and tomorrow.  The trick, of course, is not to shift into neutral at work - which is kind of what I did yesterday - but to grind to get the office work done that has been waiting on me.  Orders drafted, marital dissolution agreements drafted, mediation statements drafted.  On top of that, I've got various administrative duties to tend to.  Employee evaluations, decisions to be made on new furniture, maintenance not building, etc.

There's never enough time in the work day, you know?  Never.

I'm grateful for the work, though.  On most days, I'm grateful for what I do.  I feel like I'm helping people most of the time, which feeds my soul (to quote the late and Hon. Barbara Haynes, Jude's one time and all time mentor).  Twice yesterday, I had the opportunity to give advice to younger attorneys, solicited and unsolicited.  It's important to me to mentor young attorneys when I have the opportunity because I want to pass along what I learned from those that came before me - some of whom are gone - Steve Cox, Don Smith, etc.

Before class last night, I talked to Mark Fishburn, who was a criminal court judge for almost 25 years.  We struck up a brief conversation about the practice of law and, well, life, and how fast it all goes by.  I am glad we talked because, as it turns out, last night was his last class of the year.  It was nice to share a moment with him.  I wonder if Mark will teach at NSL next year?  He's 74, so who knows.  I hope so.  I wonder if I will teach next year at NSL, for that matter.    

When you think about it, it's a pretty short ride.  It just is. 

I love this photo.  Bill Depp, my mom, and Ben Sparks.  My mom is so happy.  At Calhouns on the River, in Knoxville, I believe.  30 years ago or so, I think.

Too Many Goodbyes

As I've written before, there are multiple people in my life who are battling serious illnesses.  Six at last count.  Some of them won't make it, which breaks my heart.  I don't know if this is just a bad run or if it's a product of my age (58).  Was 2024 a rough year - an outlier - or is this the new normal?

Sunday, I said goodbye to a longtime lawyer friend of mine.  Gary Rubenstein.  Rube, to his friends.  I've known Rube forever.

We played softball against each other for 30 + years in the Nashville Bar Association Softball League.  Rube loves the league and, of course, so do I.  Each of us has won tournament titles, although not in few years.  Rube was a stalwart for the Independents in the mid-1990's, when I played for Manier, Herod.  The Independents were our biggest rivals and the team we finally beat to get over the hump and win our first tournament championship.  I still have a team photograph taken immediately after the final game, a 12 - 1 victory for Manier, Herod.  

As I recall, Rube played third base in those days.  He always - always - wore grey baseball pants, no matter the heat in late July and early August.  He also sported a wispy, reddish blonde mustache long after it went out of style.  He still has the mustache and, in fact, it appears he kept it long enough for it to come back into style.  

He was a singles hitter and someone, for some reason, that I could never seem to get out.  I always joked that he and Jerry Patterson - neither of whom are overly athletic - were two guys I could never solve as a pitcher.  Year after year, they singled me to death at East Park and, later, at Cleveland Street Park. 

Over the years, Rube and I shared beers together every summer at the softball field.  We also shared our love of baseball.  Red Sox for him, Dodgers for me.  And we shared stories.  So many stories, borne out of a love of practicing law and a love of the NBA Softball League.  Rube is a dear friend of mine and a lawyer for whom I have a tremendous amount of respect.  Always.

At 71, Rube was the second oldest player in the league this summer, after Pete Ezell.  Rube and I connected, as always, at the end of season tournament at Cleveland Street Park in late July.  He was there, in fact, when I was hit in the face with a line drive and left the field, blood everywhere, roaring in pain and anger, unsure if I had broken teeth (I didn't), a broken jaw (I didn't), or needed stitches (I did).  

What I didn't learn until I visited him at home on Sunday is that while I was storming around outside of left field, trying to determine how badly injured I was, Rube was instrumental in preventing a brawl from breaking out on the field as my teammates confronted the other team.  Rube the peacemaker.  That's just who he is.

In August, a couple of weeks after the NBA softball tournament, Rube was playing golf and began to have excruciating low back pain.  It quickly got so bad that he couldn't walk and barely could  move.  Sadly, he was diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer after a tumor was discovered pressing on his spine.  Just devastating news for Rube, his family, and his friends.  

Although Rube had chemotherapy treatments, I think it was as a way to, perhaps, buy him more time.  The disease was terminal.  He wasn't going to survive it.  What I hate the most is that he has had such a rough ride since late summer.  Multiple trips to the hospital in an ambulance.  Extended stays at the hospital at or near the holidays.  Intense pain.  Constant discomfort.  It's been rough. 

Rube's wife, Deb, has been by his side every step of the way.  Her strength, dedication, and loyalty has been awe inspiring.  Deb has been his rock.  My admiration and respect for Deb is boundless.

Late last week, Deb texted me to tell me that Rube had fallen, which resulted in another trip to the emergency room in an ambulance.  The doctors discovered the tumors had spread up and down his spine.  Rube was done with treatment and was going to be placed on hospice care at home.  Although he had been seeing only family and his closest friends from law school, Rube had decided to start seeing people if they wanted to stop by.

To say goodbye.

And that's what I did.  On Sunday afternoon, I stopped by Rube's house in Crocket Springs, adjacent to the neighborhood I grew up in - Brenthaven - and spent a hour and a half or so with him.  I hugged Deb, also a dear, dear friend of mine.  I met Rube's sister, who was in town from Michigan.  I briefly held his hand in the slightly awkward way that men do at a time like this.  Without embarrassment or insecurity.  With only love.

We told stories - we both love to talk and laugh - about practicing law and about the NBA Softball League.  Rube was there at the beginning, when there was no softball league, just a softball game at the Nashville Bar Association summer picnic at Crockett Springs Country Club, near his house.  We laughed, a lot.  When I said goodbye, something passed between us, or at least it seemed to me that it did.  

Before I left, I shoveled the ice and snow off the front sidewalk while Deb watched.  I was so happy to do it, too, because it made me feel like in a very small way, I was helping.  Doing something tangible.  I drove home and listened to music, alone with my thoughts and memories.  

I'm losing another lion.  

Postscript.  Gary Rubenstein died at home last Saturday, February 1, 2025.  His wife, Deb, sent me a text message Sunday.  Rube's daughter, Rachel, flew home from California and he died less than 30 minutes after she arrived at the house.  As Deb said, "Rube was waiting to tell her goodbye."  Yes, he was.

Tuesday afternoon, I went to visitation at Williamson Memorial Gardens.  Waiting in line for a word with Deb and Rachel, I saw so many lawyers I haven't seen in, well, forever.  Mac Robinson, Jr.  Joe Wheeler.  So many others.  Lawyers I played softball against, back in the day, in the NBA Softball League that is so important to Gary and to me.  So many of them retired from the league but Gary and I kept playing, summer after summer.  

The NBA Softball League, for me, won't be the same without Gary playing in it.  It just won't.  

Goodbye, Rube.    

Snow Daze

Earlier in the week, we began hearing about a snowstorm that was going to hit the Deep South toward the end of the work week.  Dallas, Atlanta, Memphis, and so forth and so.  "Sure," I thought.  "I'll believe it when I see it," given that I had been running in shirtsleeves a week to ten days ago.  

By Thursday, Nashville was in wholesale "snow panic" mode, as it became apparent that the weather forecasters actually might have gotten this one right.  At work, I suggested our receptionist take Friday off and leave Thursday night for a wedding in Memphis, to make sure she arrived safely and on time.  When I stopped by the grocery store on the way home, there was literally almost nothing left to buy.  No produce.  Very little meat.  And, of course, the grocery store was packed with people scurrying around like ants. 

This, my friends, is Nashville with snow in the forecast.  Every single time.  It never changes.  

USN and MBA canceled school Thursday evening, for Friday, much to the boys' delight.  Forget that they just returned to school after 2 + weeks off for Christmas Vacation.  Few things in a child's life are as exciting as getting an expected day off of school due to snow.  

It was snowing when I got up Friday morning with the temperature hovering around 32 degrees.  Perfect for a good, wet, snowman and snowball packing snow, which is what we got in Nashville.  Small flakes at first, then bigger flakes, as it snowed most of the day.  

I scrambled to find coffee Friday morning.  No Portland Brew anymore, which always was open during the snow, even when every other coffee shop was closed.  Dose was closed.  Fortunately (and surprisingly), Bongo Java was open until noon with a full kitchen.  I got my coffee and scrambled eggs and settled in to read the New York Times.  It felt, almost, like the old days at Bongo Java, as people from the neighborhood wandered in with their children, in the beginning of a snow daze that would last through the weekend.  

At one point, as I sat contentedly at my table sipping my coffee, I heard Tom Petty's "American Girl" playing in the background, over the hum of quiet conversations at nearby tables.  Watching the snow falling outside and knowing my family was comfortably ensconced at home a couple of blocks away, I felt . . . content.  

A Friday morning snow, ahead of a weekend with Jude and the boys.

Contentment is precious.  Hard to find and harder to hold onto when it finds you.

JP, Joe, and I went for a run in the snow later Friday afternoon, snowflakes falling on us as we ran.  JP ran almost three miles with Joe and me, then continued on to get five miles or so in, while Joe and I turned for home.  Runs in the snow, for me, are always memorable, because they're so rare.  Runs in the snow are even more memorable when I can share them with one or both of my boys.  

After our run, JP, Joe, and I walked up to Belmont U. to watch the women's basketball team play University of Illinois (Chicago).  Predictably, with the snow falling outside, there were few few fans at the game.  We ran into our friend and neighbor, Connie, who sat with us.  She and I had a delightful conversation during the game.  I learned that she met her late husband, Mike, by placing a classified ad in personal section of the Tennessean in the early 1990's.  An amazing story with the makings of a romantic comedy.  Who new?  

By yesterday, the roads had cleared for the most part as the temperature rose.  The boys and I had breakfast at the Henry in 12South, as Bongo Java was open but didn't have any kitchen workers to make breakfast.  We downloaded Madden '25 and NHL '25 on the Xbox - gifts from Uncle James - and the boys played video games for a while and read, too.  We watched the first round of the NFL playoffs and ate chicken noodle soup that Jude cooked in the crock pot last night.

For a couple of days, things slowed down.  No school.  No basketball games.  No basketball practices or baseball workouts.  

Today, it's back to it.  Donuts for church.  Church.  Basketball practice for Joe.  Baseball practice for Joe.  JP will get back in the books for school, I am sure.  I need to do some work later, because my week at work is crazy.

We're all emerging from the snow daze, slowly but inevitably.  

At least, until it snows again.

KYA Indoor Classic 2025

Yesterday was a normal Saturday for us.  Indoor track meet at Vanderbilt University for JP, followed by back to back basketball games in two different places for Joe, then back to Vanderbilt to watch JP race again.  Go, go, go.

It's also the kind of Saturday I will miss with my whole heart when it's all over and these boys are grown and gone.  I don't know what Jude and I will do with ourselves when that happens.  I shudder to think how I will deal with the emptiness of my weekends.  It's all going by so fast.  

Jude and I divided and conquered, so I missed Joe's first basketball game (WNSL) at the old Cohn High School, on the west side, in a gym I love.  I don't think I missed much, as Joe's Bucket Squad rolled their opponent by 30 + and Joe didn't play particularly well.  Apparently, he took several shots but couldn't hit anything.  As I told him, I like the aggressiveness on offense - whether he's making or missing his shots - especially in a recreational league game.

Meanwhile, JP ran in the second heat of the 800 at the KYA Indoor Classic.  Tracy drove up from Franklin to watch him race, which was nice.  I enjoyed talking with her while we waited through 11 HS girls' heats of the 800.  Fortunately, in the HS boys' 800, it was fastest to slowest, so JP's group ran immediately after the first heat.  

As I am learning, indoor track is different.  T'he track itself is shorter than outside tracks.  Vanderbilt's for example, is 200 meters.  As a result the 800 is roughly two and half laps, the mile is almost five laps, and so forth.

JP got boxed out in the beginning of the race and started from the back of the pack, as is customary for him.  As is also customary for him, toward the beginning of the second lap, he moved to the outside and began passing runners.  His finishing kick is strong, something I think he takes pride in, although it's possible he relies on it a little too much as opposed to starting closer to the front of the pack.  What do I know about racing, though?  Not much.  

He continued to close toward the end of the second lap and by the beginning of the abbreviated third lap, he was in good position in the front group.  He finished strong in fourth place in his heat, running a 1:59:54.  In my view, anything under 2:00:00 is fast.  He ran slightly a similar time as the anchor leg of the 4 x 800 at the state championships last spring, so I was pleased with his race yesterday and I shtik he was, too.  He placed 14th overall.

I drove Joe to his second basketball game - a Stars' game - at David Lipscomb, or "John David Lipscomb," as Joe used to call it in his younger days.  I used to laugh and laugh every time he said that.  Joe's Stars' tame lost a close game, by three points.  

The difference, really, was that Joe's team had a three point lead and the ball with 16 seconds left in the first half with Joe on the bench.  One of their guards foolishly and needlessly telegraphed a pass at the top of the key, turned the ball over, and a boy on the other team hit a three pointer at the buzzer.  Tie game at halftime, when the Stars had a chance to be up by five or six points.

Although he only had one bucket and missed a bunny in the second half from the left baseline, I was very proud of Joe's game.  He handled the ball well, running the point.  No turnovers, which was huge.  He also played good, solid defense, and had several deflections and three or four straight steals.  He distributed the ball, made the right plays, and had a couple of nifty passes that would have been assist but for a teammate missing an easy shot.  

He played the game the right way, which is what Joe does.  As I've said before, he's a glue guy.  Not the most athletic.  Not the quickest, not by far, but almost always the smartest basketball player on his team.  I loved his game.

After a brief stop at home, Jude, Joe, and I made the quick drive back to Vanderbilt to watch JP run in the 1 mile race.  He ran in the third heat.  As it turned out, his MBA classmate and cross country teammate, Gabe, was moved up from the fourth heat to the third heat, which I knew would make for an interesting race.  

For some reason, JP and Gabe were seeded lower in the heat and started in a staggered position in the outside lanes, slightly ahead of the larger group in the inside six lanes.  To me, this is a disadvantage, as the they have to break to the inside toward the end of the first lap when the racers can leave their lanes.  

Sure enough, JP and Gabe ended up being boxed out, behind the leaders, at the end of the first lap.  It was a quick pace, so I wasn't sure how much ground they would be able to make up.  The answer, of course, is all of it, as JP and Gabe began moving up on the outside during the second lap, both running smoothly.  Like last year during the same race, I thought, this is going to be interesting.  And it was.

A little bit about Gabe.  He's a phenomenal runner, to start, but I think he struggled a bit in cross county to find himself until the last three races of the boys' sophomore season.  He looked extremely comfortable finishing the race at the state championship and at NXR in Cary, NC.  He set a PR when the boys ran in the final cross country race of the season in Huntsville at Running Lanes, early last month.  He excels in track and has a lot more experience than JP does in more traditional races, like the 1 mile, 2 mile, etc.  

The point is that for the next two years, Gabe and JP are going to push each other, which will make both of them better runners. 

By the end of the third lap yesterday, JP and Gabe were running in the first group with the leaders.  As the boys passed by me on the last lap, Gabe was in the lead and looked great, with JP in second place. It looked to me like Gabe was going to win the race and he nearly did.

JP passed Gabe part way through the final lap and started to pull away slightly,  Then, on the final stretch, just like last year with Sullivan Smith (Father Ryan HS), Gabe began sprinting and pulled even with JP near the finish line.  JP seemed to feel Gabe before he saw him - I think he remembered last year's race - and he sped up slightly and just held Gabe off at the finish line, winning literally by an eyelash.  JP finished first in the heat in 4:31:52 (12th overall), a PR, and Gabe finished second in the heat in 4:31:63 (13th overall), roughly a tenth of a second behind JP.  It was a fantastic race.  

I'm proud of JP and Gabe.  JP ran a solid race, particularly since he had raced the 800 earlier in the day.  It was the same with Gabe, given that he ran a blistering 2 mile race on Friday night.  I think there's a bright future for both of these boys.

The best part, for me, was that several of the boys' cross country teammates, and Coach Cirillo, came to Vanderbilt to watch JP and Gabe race in the 1 mile.  To seem them support their teammates was special.  I annoyed them all and snapped a group photo afterwards.

 

Saying Goodbye to 2024

As I sip my coffee at The Henry - yet another addition to 12South in 2024 - I feel kind of numb to the fact that another year is in the books.  Suddenly, we're almost a quarter of the way through the 21st century.  

It seems only yesterday that I lay under a blanket with our ultimate frisbee playing friends on a grassy bank by a creek in Gatlinburg in freezing temperatures, staring up at the stars at midnight, as we rang in the year 2000.  That was 25 years ago.  Before Jude and I got married.  Before we had the boys.  Before I lost my mom.  Before we lost Carley Meade.  

The eternal question, of course, is where did the time go?

I always have trouble categorizing a year in review.  Was it good?  Was it bad?  A little of both?  If I'm lucky, more good than bad and I guess that would be my though about 2024.  Mostly good, a little bad or, to be more precise, a little sad.

I lost David Easterling in September to a glioblastoma.  He's my first close high school friend - the first member of our group - to leave us.  There's something reassuring about knowing a close friend from whom you've drifted away a bit is still there, available for a random text exchange about Kentucky/Tennessee basketball, Cardinals/Dodgers baseball, or REM.  Always a clever, funny text.  I'm sad that's gone.  

I lost another lion, too, when Don Smith died.  I wrote about him earlier in the year.  He was the heart and soul of Manier, Herod, Hollabaugh & Smith - my first job as a lawyer - in the mid-1990's when I worked there.  An outsized personality and an original, if there ever was one.

For the fist time in my life, I have multiple people fighting various forms of cancer, and I think about them, literally, every day.  Gary, Scott, Reid, Kelli, Christa, and Lance.  How?  Why?  It's unknowable and that's beyond scary.  Sometimes, life is such a struggle, so hard and seemingly unfair.  

Work has been, well, work.  I stayed busy, as I should at this stage of my career.  Mediations and divorce cases.  Complicated, high asset cases and other cases that were not as complicated that I chose to take because I liked the clients (or their families) and wanted to help.  

Andrea, the associate on whom I took a chance when I hired her two years ago, left to work for a firm in Nashville, which was a bit disappointing at the time.  In the end, though, it probably was the best move, for her, for me, and for our law firm.  I'm still looking to replace her with the right person.

As a family, we went to Sewanee a couple of times.  My home away from home.  We traveled to Santa Rosa Beach, FL.  My other home away from home.  We also went to Chicago for the 4th of July.  A great trip where we stayed in a penthouse condominium downtown.  Joe and I traveled to Cooperstown, NY, for a week of baseball and multiple visits to the MLB Hall of Fame.  It was a trip we will never forget.  JP and I flew to Raleigh, NC, and stayed nearby in Cary, NC, when MBA's cross country team ran in NXR (Nike Cross-Country Regionals) for the second year in a row.

For baseball, JP and I traveled to Knoxville for a weekend last summer and stayed with Sarge and Jennifer.  In middle Tennessee, the boys played baseball or soccer (Joe) in various cites and towns (Mount Juliet, Murfreesboro, Smyrna, etc.).  For cross country (JP), we traveled to Louisville, KY, Owensboro, KY, Danville, AL, and to Huntsville, AL.  

The boys stayed busy and healthy which, of course, is a blessing.  They're happy, well adjusted, doing well in school.  Also, a blessing, and something I don't take for granted, not for a minute, particularly when I see so many children in my cases at work that are struggling.  I mean, Jude and I have the best boys, and we're so very lucky that God has blessed us with them.  It's the ultimate gift.  

I helped coach Joe's WNSL Braves in spring and all-star baseball.  The boys' run to the State Tournament run Mount Juliet was fun.  Joe played and pitched well, and coaching the boys was a blast.  I will never forget coaching the boys in temperature nearing 100 degrees and wearing baseball pants (!), as required by Cal Ripken baseball.  I will also never forget having a beer in the parking lot after Franklin knocked the WNSL Braves out in the semi-finals, debriefing with Scott McRae and Mark Erdman.  My guys.

If the fall, I took the WNSL Dodgers on their last ride.  As assistant coaches, I had JP, Wes, Benton, Cyrus, and JK from the original Dodgers.  JP was there almost every practice and game and, in fact, coached the boys in a double header in my absence one Saturday.  Coaching Joe and the other boys - Ram, Trey, Nico, Walker, George, Bennett (the original Junior Dodgers) and Huck, too - was, quite simply, the best.  Probably the highlight of 2024 for me.  

I kept running and stayed relatively healthy, which was nice.  Strangely, when I looked at my Runkeeper app on December 30, 2024, I realized that with one more three mile run the next day, I would have run 517 miles, exactly the same number of miles I ran in 2023.  Now, that's weird.  146 runs (2024) vs. 140 runs (2023).  Not necessarily the mileage I would like but, all things considered, a solid year of running, particularly when I hit my goal of 50 runs of three miles the last quarter of the year.  

I had Covid-19, again, back in the fall.  Third time was not the charm, as I felt a little bit worse than when I had it for the second time in 2023.  Jude avoided Covid-19 this December, after having it in December of 2022 and 2023.  

In the neighborhood, we lost Portland Brew and Mafiozza's, two staples and OG's, which was sad.  12South is such a different place than it was when we moved here 20 years ago.  More trendy, which is not a good thing, in my view.  

Time marches on, doesn't it?  Here's to a healthy, happy, and productive 2025.