Post Eighty-Five: Nolan Ryan story

Nolan Ryan was recently released from the hospital after suffering from some kind of health scare. I hope all is well with him. But it jogged my memory about a story I heard about him, from someone who was there.

A friend of mine was at the Ryans' ranch with Nolan Ryan's son (who he pitched college ball with) and the man himself, out riding horses around the range. It seems Nolan Ryan's horse kept acting up, going real skittish at times. Well, Nolan pulled back on the reins of his horse, until the horse's head was turned sideways. He proceeded to throw a right cross right across the horse's jaw.

The horse settled down.

Post Eighty-Four: Hollywood Onanism

According to the Drudge Report, the Golden Globes pulled in a 15.7 rating/23 share, which beat out 24's 10.1/14 share.

Hmph. Well, I was watching 24.

Seriously, who the fuck watches these award shows? And the more important question: why? I know of absolutely no reason why anyone would waste their time watching the smug [I am intentionally using this word as a noun] congratulate themselves over and over while trying to convince everyone not in the room just how important they are. And to top it off, you then have to sit through speeches that half the time turn into lectures on just how bad things are in a country that allows individuals with severe psychological issues or drug problems make millions of dollars a year.*

And further, is there any group out there that does more self-congratulatory back-patting than the entertainment industry? I found this website which keeps track of the results of the award shows. By my count, there are about THIRTY different organizations that feel the need to heap praise on an industry that at its very core is all about people who seek the praise of their respective audiences. Unbelievable.

Just say no to awards shows, people.

*No, I am not saying everyone in Hollywood has severe psychological issues or drug problems. Read the sentence again.

Post Eighty-Three: Retired judge pisses me off

Recently, we had a hearing in front of a "retired" judge who was filling in for a judge who was leaving office in the new year, and therefore did not feel the need to work anymore. Think of "retired" judges as substitute teachers. With egos. This one, I have come to learn is both 1) stupid, and 2) possessing of a plaintiff's bias.

This hearing concerned a motion to compel the production of various documents, including documents that are protected by various medical privileges afforded under Texas and federal law. After tendering the documents for an in camera review, along with affidavits establishing the applicable privileges, the court took the matter under consideration.

A week later, we received an Order from this judge, such as it were. A model of clarity it ain't. It was unclear whether the judge was ordering the production of the clearly privileged documents. Therefore, being concientious officers of the Court, we filed a motion for clarification, asking the simple question, "are you ordering these documents produced?"

A week later, this retired judge issues a letter. In it, he states that our motion was "inappropriate" and that his prior Order "speaks for itself." This struck me as the height of dickery. This asshole can't bother himself to say a simple "yes" or "no" in response to our motion for clarification? Well, fuck him. Out of an abundance of caution, we're mandamus-ing his ass. And I hope he gets his ass chewed by the court of appeals.

Post Eighty-Two: Disbar Nifong

Well, Nifong is out. The state AG has agreed to take the case out of Nifong's hands and will review the case to determine whether the charges leveled against the three Duke lacrosse players merit a trial.

Anyone with a working brain who has been paying attention knows that this case should be dismissed posthaste. The accuser has no credibility at all. There is absolutely no corroboration from any witness. There is absolutely no incriminating DNA. As a matter of fact, the DNA evidence is exculpatory, yet Nifong tried kept it from the defense for over six months (while representing to the court that all exculpatory evidence had been turned over). Combine this with his utterly inappropriate comments regarding the accused throughout this mockery of the justice system, and it is clear that Nifong has no business being a DA.

No, scratch that. Nifong has no business being an attorney. I just hope that the North Carolina State Bar has the juevos to disbar this scumbag.

Post Eighty-One: Cowboys v. Seahawks

God obviously hates Tony Romo.

Post Eighty: My Uncle

As promised, here's my favorite story about my uncle referenced in my prior post (prefaced by a little background to set the tone):

My uncle has worked and works harder than pretty much any man I have ever known. First off, he is a farmer, which instantly casts him as someone who works too hard just by definition. But for much of his life he was also an employee of a giant aluminum (or is it petroleum? I'm not sure . . .) plant in South Texas. I don't know exactly what he did, but this was the type of job he wore a hardhat to. I have always had this image in my head of him climbing metal ladders attached to the sides of sprawling towers with sparks flying everywhere, or using huge wrenches to tighten or loosen various pipes that carried dangerous liquids.

As I've been told, he woke before dawn every day and headed out to the farm to do whatever it is that farmers do at any point during the year: planting/tilling/harvesting, whatever, driving the huge tractors or some other massive piece of machinery. He would then report to his "day job" at the plant, putting in his hours. After a full shift at the plant, he would return to the farm, finishing up that day's necessities. He would return home after dark, only to start the whole thing over the next morning. And it wasn't just a Monday through Friday routine: farming is a 7-day a week job.

He's also one of the strongest men I've ever heard of, which brings me to the "favorite story" portion of this post. Seems my uncle was using a Craftsman wrench while working in his shop, and it broke on him. I imagine that most people know that Craftsman tools are guaranteed for life against breakage, so my uncle went off to Sears to get a replacement.

Well, at Sears there was a clerk who had the bright idea to throw a little mud at my uncle. As he was getting the replacement wrench, the clerk made the comment, "Using a cheater rod, huh?" For your edification, a cheater rod is a length of pipe that slips over the handle of the wrench, allowing the user more leverage to tighten or loosen whatever it is that's being worked on. It also increases the risk of breaking the tool.

My uncle didn't take too kindly to that accusation. He proceeded to take the replacement wrench, and slap it in the vise Sears had on display on the floor. My uncle grabbed the wrench, gave a quick jerk of his forearms, and the wrench snapped in two.

Obviously, the clerk shut the fuck up after that.

Now, the kicker: he had been using a cheater rod.