Puttung the Brakes on at the Beach

January and February were predictably busy months for me at work.  Two cases that, for completely different reasons, didn't go to trial as scheduled.  One settled on the eve of trial and the other was continued after my opposing counsel got sick, also on the eve of trial.  Still, the preparation for trial is where the all consuming work gets done, so the first two months of the year were crazy.

Originally, I had planned to take the family to Arizona for spring vacation but, in the end, we settled on the old reliable, returning to Santa Rosa Beach yet again for a week of relaxation on familiar turf for all of us.  And I'm glad we did.

As I write this, it's Sunday morning and sitting outside Ama Vida in Seaside, FL, with a view of "the square" as visitors begin their days.  Most, like us, probably arrived yesterday.  Some, of course, are leaving today, as most of the weekly rentals run Saturday to Saturday.  Already in the 45 minutes I have been sitting here, things are starting to hum as groups of people congregate over breakfast and others return from an early morning walk or run. 

It's a beautiful beach morning, although a bit windy.  Sunny with the temperature in the low '70's at 9 a.m. There's rain coming later today, though.  Hopefully, JP and I, and maybe Joe, will squeeze in a run at some point this afternoon.

It's time for a week away, for all of us.  A week away from work for Jude and me and a week away from school for JP and Joe.  JP had Friday off, actually, and on our early morning run before I went to work, he was unusually talkative.  My guess is that he was feeling relieved to be free of the stress of studying and preparing for tests and quizzes at school - grinding as he calls it - and looking forward to a week of down time.  I get it.

I'm almost finished with Walter Mosley's first Easy Rawlins book, "The Devil in the Blue Dress" (30th anniversary edition).  I read an interview with him, recently, in the New York Times, and he had some interesting things to say about writing in general and being one of few African American writing crime fiction in the early '90's.  His books are as much of a social commentary of the times as they are hard boiled crime novels.  Plot driven thrillers that make you think or so it seems to me.

I also brought Paul Newman's memoir, which I picked up at Landmark Booksellers in Franklin on Friday morning.  

And, as I sit here in the middle of Seaside, I see that one of my favorite bookstores, Sundog Books, visible across the way, has opened up.  I'll wander over there, I suppose, and see if anything captures my fancy.

Yep, it's good to be back at the beach.

The Sporting Life

It would be fine, I know, if JP and Joe weren't sports fans.  But because I am such a sports nut, it sure is nice that they love sports as much as they do.  Most of our weekends involve Jude and chauffeuring the boys around to a practice or game.  This weekend was no different.

Friday, we had a rare off night, so to speak.  Nothing scheduled.  We watched an NBA game on television, though, and bantered back and forth about various NBA teams' playoff possibilities.

Saturday morning, Joe had a game in the WNSL "March Madness" tournament at Legacy Courts in Franklin.  Win and play on or lose and the basketball season for Joe's "Bucket Squad" team is over.  They won.  

After the game, JP and I drove to my office in Franklin, changed clothes, and went for a 5-mile run together.  I love to run with JP but this one was especially memorable, because we ran to Harlinsdale Park and Fort Granger, two of my favorite routes when I run after work in downtown Franklin.  I've run those routes hundreds of time and it was really, really special to have him by my side on the run Saturday morning.  

When we finished the run, JP and I went to Dick's Sporting Goods because he needed some sunglasses for baseball.  The infield of the MBA middle school baseball field on 42nd Street in West Nashville stares directly in to the setting sun, which is a problem since most of his games there start at 4:30 or 5:00 p.m.  Like today's, for example (MBA vs. Woodland M.S.).

Saturday afternoon, I took JP, Joe, and two of Joe's basketball buddies (Cole and Pike) to the Belmont U. baseball game vs. Kansas. The weekend series was a big deal because Kansas is from a power five conference (the Big 12).  Belmont won Friday night's game but lost the game we saw, 5-0.  It was a lovely  Saturday afternoon, though, and I loved being with the boys, outside, watching baseball.  

Saturday night, Jude made lasagna - my mom's recipe, which has become a favorite of the boys - and we watched the movie, "Creed."  The boys loved it, of course.  Next up, "Creed II," so we can be ready to see the third installment of the Creed franchise, which opened in theaters on Friday night.  

Sunday morning, Jude and the boys went to early church at Cathedral.  Then, Joe's basketball season came to an end at the hands of the Outkast, their rival.  Down early, the boys rallied in the second half and even took the lead, briefly, when Pike hit a 3-pointer.  Joe had started the run on the first possession of the second half when he hit a 3-pointer of his own.  The Outkast pulled away late and that was that.  We'll get them one of these days.  

After his basketball game, Jude rushed Joe to Antioch for his first club soccer game of the season.  In three periods of a friendly, Joe's Armada team lost to a very good 11U team from Hendersonville, 7-3.  Joe played center back in was in goal, as well.  It will be interesting to see where he ends up playing in the spring season.  He's a better goalie than his buddy, Preston, but Joe's probably more valuable anchoring the defense at center back than playing goalie.  

I missed Joe's game because JP had scheduled a pitching workout with Quint "Coach Q" Robinson.  Because everything comes full circle, I've know Q's father, Worrick, for 30 + years.  He's a practicing attorney and a longtime friend and softball teammate of mine.  Now, Q plays on my law league softball team and gives JP pitching lessons.  Full circle.

I grabbed an afternoon coffee at Honest Coffee Roasters on Charlotte Avenue and watched the end of the Lakers-Warriors game on my laptop, then returned to pick up JP after his workout.  A Lakers' win, thankfully.  Jude took Joe to and end-of-season pizza party while JP and ate dinner at home.  Afterward, the three of us watched the Knicks beat the Celtics in double overtime in a great NBA basketball game.  

Sports, sports, sports, and we wouldn't have it any other way.

20

Last week, Jude and I celebrated our 20th wedding anniversary in classic fashion.  For us, anyway.  She picked Joe up from school and JP from basketball practice after school, got a quick dinner, then took Joe to basketball practice.  I taught class at the Nashville School of Law from 6:30 - 8:10 p.m.  In other words, Jude and I were on the go, as we normally are, with family and work.  

We did manage to sneak away Friday night for a quiet dinner in our neighborhood at Epice.  By sneak away, of course, I mean I roared into the Epice parking lot from Franklin on two wheels after concluding a difficult, 3-day mediation - successfully, I might add.  There's that work thing, again.  I was on a bit of a high, though, as the mediation was challenging, to be sure, but I enjoyed getting to know the parties and mediating for two attorneys of whom I am very fond.  

Saturday night, Jude and I went to see Vail Johnson and his jazz fusion at the Nashville Jazz Workshop near Fisk University.  We took a bottle of wine and a meat/cheese plate - courtesy of Jude - into the venue, which was cool.  It was a nice night.  Something different and fun.  

So, twenty years married.  Twenty-five years together.  That's a long time, when I stop and think about it.  I think I appreciate the longevity of our relationship even more given the kind of work I do.  While I more than many have long realized that nothing lasts forever, it is nice to be in a relationship that has lasted as long as ours.  In many ways, it's becoming more and more rare to see two people together for more than two decades.  

So much has happened in our lives over the last twenty years.  A lot of it good, but some of it bad, or sad.  Jude and I have laughed together, for sure.  We've argued or fought with each other occasionally but, fortunately, not too often.  Personally, we've dealt with health issues, some more serious than others.  We've cried on each other shoulder in difficult times, especially when we've lost people we've loved.  I'm thinking, of course, of our beloved Carley and my mom, who died roughly a month apart three years ago.  

I think we've leaned on each other in the hard times, the times of loss or uncertainty and unhappiness at work.  We've tried hard to be there for each other.  To listen, which is so important in any long-term, healthy relationship.  To not talk and not offer advice but to listen.  

And, then, of course, there is the boys.  JP and Joe, our North Start and the two lights of our lives.  For them, we give everything, yesterday, today, and tomorrow.  As we ate dinner at Epice, we marveled at our great good fortune in having the boys that we have as our sons.  In our jobs - both of our jobs - we see, sometimes, terribly things and situations with children in crisis, struggling to keep their heads above water.  I think makes us appreciate how blessed we are with out boys all the more.  I know it works that way for me.  

My new lawyer at work, Andrea, shakes her head and laughs on Mondays when I tell her how busy Jude and I were over the weekend, transporting JP and Joe to one sporting event or another.  The chauffeur's hat goes on, for me, as soon as I leave the office on Friday evening.  The thing is, though, Jude and I wouldn't have it any other way.  This time with the boys is fleeting, for sure, especially since JP will be driving in a little more than a year.  

When you think about it, really, all of this is fleeting.  Time - that concept, again - passes by, seemingly slowly, and then suddenly, it's gone.  Before we're ready, we're out of time, and left only with our memories of these crazy, busy, challenging, lovely days and months and years with out boys and with the knowledge that we raised them together, Jude and I.  

For all or the professional accolades and recognition, formally and informally, for the reputations Jude and I have built among our peers and colleagues, none of it really matters.  What matters - to us, anyway - is those boys, JP and Joe, our life's work and our crowning achievement.  Everything we do is for them.  Everything we have is for them.  That's something Jude and I have in common, I know.  

So, I'll finish my coffee at Dose, after having dropped JP off early at MBA for a Fellowship of Christian Athletes meeting.  Jude will work from home today and hang out with Joe, who is off school due to parent-teacher conferences.  I think she is going to take the boys to see Belmont play baseball this afternoon.  Tomorrow, Joe has his end-of-season basketball tournament and JP has a pitching lesson at some point on Sunday evening.  

And so it goes.  From a snowy wedding night at the Parthenon, celebrating our union with so many of our family and friends, to a life filled with practices, games, and a life built around our boys.  I wouldn't change a thing, not one solitary thing.  

Twenty is a big number.  I'm looking forward to twenty more years together, God willing.

JP on the Hill

Yesterday, I was lucky enough to arrange my schedule such that I could watch JP's second middle school baseball game of the season, against, Brentwood Middle School.  I missed his first game the day before because a mediation went longer than I had hoped.

I knew JP was scheduled to start at pitcher, which was another reason I really wanted to be there.  He pitched well in the fall and I was excited to see how he looked on the mount this spring.  As a bonus, I took my longtime friend and 80 year old mentor Ed Silva, to the game.  He was to be a guest lecturer in the family law trial practice class I am co-teaching at Nashville School of Law, so I had agreed to give him a ride to and from his office in Franklin.  It worked out that I drove him to the game and he watched it with me which, honestly, was pretty special.

JP looked great pitching.  He breezed through the first three innings - no hits, no walks, and two strikeouts.  In the fourth inning, the leadoff hitter - a lefty - laid down a nifty bunt on the third baseline.  JP pounced on it and fired a throw to first that got away from him and sailed into right field, which left runners at first and third with one out.  He struck the next batter out.  With two outs, the runner on first stole second and an execution mistake on what was supposed to be a fake throw down to second base allowed a run to score.  The next batter grounded out to shortstop and the inning ended.

In the bottom of the fourth inning, JP led off with a booming double to right field, well over the right fielder's head.  Later in the inning, JP scored the first run of the game for MBA.  

He walked the leadoff hitter in the top of the fifth inning, then gave up a single to left center field on an 0-2 count, as he left a fastball too far out over the plate.  Coach Martin pulled him at that point, which I appreciated, as he was at 59 pitches or so.  There was no need to go too deep in the pitch count in the second game of the season, for sure.  BMS scratched out a run and led 2-1.

I had to leave before the last inning, when MBA rallied.  They had runners at second and third base but couldn't plate the typing run in the bottom of the seventh inning and lost, 2-1.  

It was cool - really cool, actually - to watch JP on the mound, in control the entire time.  He covered first base, twice, on ground balls to the right side.  He also made a nice play on a hard hit ground ball right up the middle.  He had good command, although he didn't throw his curve ball a lot.  He located his fast ball and felt like the other team was having a hard time catching up with it, so he kept throwing it.

It's going to be a fun season of baseball, at school and this summer with HBC.

Joe at 11

Joe turned 11 years old yesterday, which is unfathomable in so many ways.  He's growing up so fast and he does, I am growing older, so it's bittersweet.  

I miss the stroller days, when Joe was two years old and JP was six years old.  It was an innocent, unblemished time, or so it seems in retrospect.  My mom was alive.  Carley, of course, was alive and healthy.  Carley shared a special bond with Joe, I've always thought.  I see so much of her in Joe and JP, too.  Those boys loved her fiercely.  Still do.  It's tough, sometimes, when I stop and think about how much my mom and Carley would have enjoyed watching my boys grow up.

As I think Jude sensed earlier on than I did, it's a little bit harder, as a parent, to watch Joe grow up.  With JP, we knew Joe was coming right along behind him, so we would get to do it all over again.  It's different with Joe, because he is our youngest.  There is no one coming along behind him, so everything he does we are experiencing for the last time.  From a nostalgia standpoint, that's tough for me to realize sometimes.  

Joe and I share a love of music, especially Tom Petty.  He loves Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers like I do, which is saying something.  I love to play music for him, particularly music from my past, or present, that he hasn't heard yet.  Recently, I stumbled upon a song, "Eyes to the Wind," by War on Drugs, when it appeared on my Spotify Discover playlist one Monday morning.  I couldn't stop listening to the song and I played it for Joe.  To my delight, a few weeks ago I heard it playing on Alexa, upstairs, one morning as he was getting up to go go school.  On his own, he has asked Alexa to play it as his alarm the next day when it was time to get up.  That made my so happy.

That's what Joe does for me so often.  He makes me smile and laugh.  He makes me happy, always.  

Joe is like me in many other ways.  He's perfectly comfortable being in the spotlight, most of the time.  He's a natural leader.  Other kids gravitate to him.  It's always been that way.  He leads on the basketball court, on the baseball field, and on the soccer field.  I don't think he sets out to lead his teammates but they look to him, which is the way it is with natural leaders. 

Joe's intensely and outwardly competitive, which is something that worried Carley at times because it was hard for her to relate to, I think.  I love it, of course, because I have long believed that as a parent, it's possible to channel competitiveness in a positive direction when a kids has it.  If a kid is not competitive and doesn't have it - whatever "it" is - it's hard put it in them.  At times, we have to dial Joe back a bit but I  am okay with that as it relates to competitiveness.  Again, it's easier to dial it back than to dial it up, so to speak.

It's been a great year for Joe, I think.  Captain of his club soccer team.  The leader of his basketball team, as a real glue guy.  A leader on his baseball team.  A leader at school, on the playground and in the classroom.  He's well behaved at school (and at home) and a friend to many, moving easily from group to group.  

Jude and I are so lucky to have the boys we have.  We're even luckier that they have each other, especially as older parents.  JP is such a great big brother to Joe.  Joe continues to worship JP and is loyal beyond measure.  

Happy Birthday, Joe.  I am so proud of you and I love you.  

Mardi Gras 2023

It's 7 a.m. and I am having coffee at CR Coffee on Magazine Street in New Orleans.  JP and I discovered CR Coffee after a 5 mile run a couple of days ago.  Cool place in an old house.  Nice seating inside, including a couple of easy chairs, one of which I am sitting in right now.  Great hidden patio on the side of the house.  Very New Orleans.  Good coffee, too.

Very different vibe from Undergrowth Coffee, another coffee shop I hit on Magazine after a run the day after we arrived.  That place was cool, too, just different.  A bit more of a hole in the wall but in a shotgun style building that went back and back and back to a walled off patio that actually was pretty cool.  

Where would I be without a place to get coffee in the morning or after a run?  

It's been a good trip, though a bit exhausting.  Parades, parades, and more parades.  I was done and ready to go home last night near the beginning of Bacchus.  Jude, of course, insisted on staying until the end, so we did.  We walked home, at frozen pizza, and fell into bed.  

The house we rented through VRBO - almost a year ago - is fantastic.  It's a converted basement in a large house on Camp Street, conveniently located a few blocks from our preferred parade viewing spots on St. Charles and, yesterday, Napoleon.  It's a block off of Magazine Street, which has restaurants, bars, and art galleries aplenty in both directions.  Three big bedrooms - all with king sized beds - which the boys loved.  Four full bathrooms, too, which is crazy.  

Certainly, if and when we return to New Orleans, I could see us staying in the same place again.

After a relatively uneventful flight down, Judy and Bob Quinilty were kind enough to pick us up at the airport late Thursday night and drive us to their house in Metairie, where we stayed overnight.  Friday morning, we picked up the rental car in Metairie, which was much more convenient than dealing with trying to get a rental car at the airport.  Then, it was off to find out house on Camp Street.

We found a decent but not great spot on St. Charles to watch the parades later that day with Jude's friend Jeff - El Jefe, the founding father of Foodbrothers - and his family.  It was fun spending time with them all weekend.  

Saturday morning, we hooked up with Jude's cousins, Ann and Catherine, and their families for more parade watching.  Much to Joe's delight, we had an early birthday dinner at what is maybe his favorite restaurant on earth, Frankie and Johnny's.  In his telling of the story, it's the first place he ate fried shrimp, so it's his go to dish there.  

Saturday night, Jude and I left our camping chairs and a couple of moving blankets I scrounged up in a new viewing spot on Napoleon Avenue.  Veteran move.  It secured us a spot for watching the three parades we saw yesterday, although I spent a considerable amount of time defending our turf from others - who had not been out there since 7 a.m., like us - who want to stand in front of us.  It was a complete madhouse by the time Bacchus started, as Jude predicted.  Everyone, everywhere, all at once.  

It's Joe's birthday today - 11 years old - more own that later.  I'm ready to get home, which we'll do later this afternoon after brunch with Judy and Bob Quinilty.  

A quick trip.  Action packed.  Lots of parades and a lots of beads (which I have not idea how we will get home).  

Angus Returns and Prayers are Answered

I have always said a miracle is in the eyes of the beholder.  What seems like a miracle to me might not be a miracle to you.  

For reasons I discussed in this space long, long ago, finding out Jude was pregnant with Joe - and the way we found out - was a miracle to us.  I believe God's hands are in all miracles and without question, His hands were in Jude's pregnancy and Joe's subsequent birth.

Tuesday night, I saw another miracle, and God's hands were in that one, too.  

Angus came home.

As the temperature dropped outside and the rain turned to sleet, Joe ran upstairs to my office, shouting "Angus is back!  Angus is back!"  JP and I ran downstairs to the kitchen and, sure enough, there he was.  Angus.  There were tears in my eyes as I reached down, carefully, to pet him. 

His poor feet were scraped up pretty badly, as was one of his legs.  It was clear something had happened to him and, most likely he had been holed up somewhere nearby, licking his wounds, literally and figuratively.  My guess - and what the veterinary tech surmised later - is that he was hit by a car Sunday afternoon or evening and was hurt badly enough that he couldn't get home.  Alternatively, he might have been confused and unable to find his way home, at least at first.

Either way, I think that as the weather turned and it began to sleet, he knew he had to find the strength and will to get home if he was going to survive.  So, that's what he did.

This is where it gets a little - okay, a lot - personal for me.  Since Angus had been missing, I had not been myself.  My equilibrium was off, because not knowing if he was okay, or hurt, or dead, was weighing heavily on my heart.  Most importantly, I knew my boys were hurting, especially Joe.  Watching them get up off the couch every few minutes and look out the back door at the deck and the back yard - looking for some sign of Angus - was heartbreaking.  

Monday afternoon, I left work and drove out to the Davidson County Animal Shelter on Harding Road to see for myself the cats that had been turned in over the past few days.  I saw a couple that looked like Angus but weren't him.  Honestly, it was kind of depressing to see these poor animals there with little or no hope of being reunited with their owners or being adopted.

One of the workers at the Animal Shelter suggested I post a message in a Facebook group that's for people if Davidson or Williamson Counties who have lost pets.  I am not a Facebook guy.  Far from it, in fact.  Somehow - and I'm not sure how this happened - my original Facebook account was deleted, not by me, though.  I was told it was damn near impossible to delete your Facebook account.  Still, my account managed to delete itself.

I didn't miss it because the only time I got on Facebook was when someone I knew died.  Facebook just wasn't my thing.  Twitter, Instagram, yes.  Facebook, no.

Nonetheless, I posted a photo of Angus on Skippy Lou's Lost and Found Pets, a Facebook group for people of have lost (or found) pets in Williamson or Davidson Counties.  It's crazy but within minutes of posting the photo and leaving a message, several people replied.  Some posts provided helpful hints for how to find a missing cat and other just offered kind words and, yes, prayers.  A lot of prayers for Angus and our family.

I was touched by the generosity of spirit of so many complete strangers.  I also was struck by the fact that in this age of toxicity in social media, through dumb luck I had stumbled upon a group of kind and caring individuals, united by a love of animals.  There was no red or blue, no Republican or Democrat, just a group of strangers who genuinely cared about my family and really, really wanted Angus to come home to us.  

It sounds trite, I know, but the reaction of those people on Skippy Lou's Lost and Found Pets restored my faith in my fellow man, or woman, as the case would be.  

So, I find myself sitting in the lobby of the Graduate Hotel on Sunday morning, have a cup of coffee (Poindexter's), listening to a young man play guitar, waiting on JP to finish his Sunday school class across the street at The Cathedral of the Incarnation (where Jude and I were married 20 years ago this month).  I'll pick up JP in thirty minutes and we'll head to church at St. Patrick's.  And Angus is at home, resting comfortably as he has been all week.  

I earnestly prayed for a miracle, for Angus to return home, one way or another.  And he did, just as the temperatures dropped and the freezing rain started.  He was injured but he was home.  Did God hear my prayers, and Jude's prayers, and the boys' prayers?  Of course he did.  That's what I believe, anyway.

God is great, life is good, people are kind, and I'm content.  It doesn't get much better than that.