Typical Tuesday

My Tie Yesterday

One of the things about my job is that my schedule is not always my own.  It can change at the drop of the hat and is subject to the whims of clients, colleagues, judges, partners, and family demands.  I often wonder how I can anything done given the myriad of different things I find myself doing on any given day.  Yesterday was an example.

I got to work and began working on an emergency motion that had to be filed before noon in federal court. As I crafted my strategy for the document and began drafting it, it dawned on me that everyone had overlooked a key weakness in the opposing party's position.  The defect meant that we did not even have to file any document with the Court.  I called my co-counsel to explain my strategy and then we called the judge's clerk.  The clerk agreed with us and confirmed that we did not have to file anything.  I just saved my client and the Court a bunch of time.  Case closed and chalk one up for the good guys!

Then I turned my attention to my two other federal court filings that I had to complete before noon.

At noon, it was time to start preparing for my 2 p.m. hearing on a motion I had drafted.  I sent the Court's tentative ruling on my motion to my client and conferred briefly with my co-counsel up in Los Angeles County.

A little after 1 p.m., I headed over to the courthouse for my hearing.  I had about 10 minutes extra, so I decided to swing by the County Recorder's Office to get a copy of my son's birth certificate.  When I walked into the Recorder's Office, they told me it would take 15 minutes to get the birth certificate.  I told them I had to be in court in 10.  Luckily, it only took 5.

Not necessarily a model of efficiency...

I think I can type a lot faster than the average person who uses the self-service computers in there.  It also helped that I paid cash for the birth certificate ($23).  I can only imagine how much time it would have taken to get a check processed (write the check out...show ID...etc. etc.) or for them to run my credit card (do they even take AMEX--you know, for the miles!).  You know how painfully slow government bureaucrats can be!

Then it was off to court.  I got a couple of funny looks from the homeless people lining the Civic Center Plaza as I stretched my legs by sprinting back to courthouse--files (and birth certificate) in hand.  I did notice that those homeless people might not have had much other than their shopping carts and their bags of aluminum cans (that they turn in for recycling), but they all seemed to have matching blue tarps to protect those shopping carts from the rain we'd had the night before.  Funny how new and uniform the blue tarps looked, but I'm sure they worked great.  I wonder if my tax dollars paid for those tarps?

As I walked through the metal detectors into the courthouse, one of the sherriff's deputies complimented me on my tie (see above).  He asked me where I got it.  I'm not really noted for my fashion sense, so I have to enjoy these moments when they happen.  (The tie was made by "Chaps" in case you're wondering and I have no idea where I got it or who I got it from.  I'm assuming I didn't pick it out for myself if I was getting a compliment on it!).  I took that as a good omen.

Not my judge, but you get the idea...

It took over an hour before the judge called our case from his busy docket.  I always enjoy hearing the other cases and it gives me a chance to gauge the judge's mood and thought process before I have to argue.  In this case, there was a fascinating back-and-forth involving a woman who tripped and fell over a hidden stump in a planter box at a local Costco.  Whatever you may think about frivolous lawsuits and whether or not someone should be able to file a lawsuit if they hurt themselves because they leave the sidewalk and hurt themselves while taking a detour through a landscaped planter box, the exchange was fascinating.  The judge was 100% right on the law.  The attorney not so much...

 The judge didn't comment on my tie, but did grant my motion.  I wish I could say that it was because of my brilliant oratorical skills--but it wasn't.  Since the judge had agreed with my written logic, I knew enough not to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory.  I think the only words I might have uttered were: "Thank you, Your Honor" when he granted my motion.  He was obviously a very wise and astute judge!  ;-)  I'm glad I won because my clients had surprised me by showing up to court.  I walked my clients out and headed back to the office.  It was now after 3 p.m.

Pho Bac...It's way better than it looks!  :-)

I actually stopped to get some lunch and then got back in the office--almost in time to leave for my son's Little League baseball game.  The game was at 5 p.m., but he only has two games left in the season so I felt like I needed to be there.  Don't worry, I made good use of the 30 minute drive time to the game by calling co-counsel on one of my matters to do some strategic planning.

At about 5:45, I left S.'s baseball game to go to R.'s baseball game.  The only problem was that R.'s baseball game was 20 minutes in the opposite direction.  I managed to pass the time by making some phone calls about the Scout activity that we had planned for that night.

Remember my prior posts about Little League baseball?  Well, I'm not sad to say that the season is almost over for both of my Little Leaguers.  But R. got on base and scored a run in the 6th inning of his game last night when his team came from behind to go up by two runs 6-4.  They ended up winning!  Yay!  R. was on cloud nine!

This type of play happens all too often in Little League...

The game didn't finish until 8:30ish (making 3+ hours of Little League in one night), which meant that we missed R.'s Scout meeting.  He was supposed to get interviewed for a rank advancement to Tenderfoot.  Looks like that will have to happen another time.  By the time we got home, it was after 9 p.m. and I had been through another 12+ hour day.

I put the kids down and then was faced with a quandry...do I crack open the laptop to do some more "homework" or do I go for a run.  The question became academic when I crashed and collapsed into bed.  I think it's the first time I've gone to sleep before midnight in a long time.  I have no idea why I was so exhausted...it was all just pretty much a typical Tuesday.  Can't wait to do it again?  :-/

Baseball as Life

R. Playing 3rd Base After His At-Bat

Baseball has never been my favorite sport. I generally prefer a faster pace to a game. But some people love baseball (it didn't become the national pastime by accident) and see it as a metaphor for life.

If you read my last post on Little League and some of my recent posts, you know I've been spending a fair amount if time lately thinking about kids, life, and fatherhood.

Tonight as I pulled up to the field to watch R.'s game, I think I maybe I understand why baseball can be like life. And why it has brought fathers and sons across America bond for generations.

As I got out of the car, my heart sank as I saw R. walking back to the dugout with his bat slung across his shoulder while his teammates hustled and bustled to get out into the field to play defense.

It was immediately clear what had happened. R. had struck out to end the inning. I braced myself for a repeat of last game.

But that's why baseball and life are so great. As in life, we are not bound to failure in baseball. Every day is a new day. Every game is a new game. Every at bat is a new at bat. We can change, get better, and improve. We can hope that the next time we will see positive change. Even if that change is incremental.

R. was smiling when I saw him in the dugout. He excitedly told me that he hadn't been as afraid of the ball. And then he hustled off to go play third base on defense.

Then I walked over to where the parents were sitting. Several of them were kind enough to come up to me--all on their own--and tell me what a great at bat R. had had. He had fouled the ball off a couple of times and had gone down swinging. It may not have been much--but it was progress!

Later one of the coaches spontaneously told me what a great job R. had done.

As I sat to watch the rest of the game, I noticed that tonight's game felt so much different than the last game. Gone were the dark, dank mists and fog. It was clear and palpably warmer. Everything felt...better.

So I will appreciate the sense of newfound optimism that I feel tonight. And I'm looking forward to R.'s next at bat. He's hitting next inning and I'm excited to see him continue to improve. In baseball and in life. :-)

Field of (Foggy) Dreams

Hitting in the fog--If you look closely you can see the blur of the pitch as it speeds toward the batter.

R. had another baseball game last night.  Even though I feel like Spring is right around the corner, last night's game was anything but Spring-like.  It was cold (54 degrees at the field in Dana Point) and damp.  You could literally see the fog and mist rolling in from the ocean less than a mile away.

Despite the fact that I was in a long-sleeved dress shirt, I was cold and I actually grabbed my spare jacket out of the trunk of the car.  I tried to send several texts, but my fingers were numb from the cold, damp coastal air.  My thoughts on Little League baseball are too complex and conflicted for this post.  But if my own kids weren't playing, there's no way that I'd ever spend more than 2 minutes at the ball field.

As miserable and physically uncomfortable as I was, R. was even worse.  R. is 11 years old, but has really only played about 2 years of baseball in the past 4.  He has a lot less experience than the other boys.  The coach told us that when they pick teams at practice, R. is always picked last.  When I got to the game, I checked the line-up card.  Sure enough, R. was in his usual position--batting last (signifying that he is the worst hitter on the team).  R. got up to bat 3 times tonight.  He struck out every single time.

Normally I love the fog, but this fog held a more somber feel to it.

On defense, R. only plays in the field about every other inning because he really hasn't mastered a position on defense.  I realized at one point that he was shivering because his uniform wasn't warm enough for the cold.  I took off my jacket and gave it to him.

As a parent, I could sense his frustration and disappointment mount as the game went on.  I know that tonight's game was anything but fun for him.

I don't care whether the team wins or loses, but I want R. to be able to experience some success and to have fun.  Is that too much to ask?  As a dad, I feel like a failure.  Little League was always fun for me.  I had good friends and teammates, made all-star teams, and liked playing.  I'll never forget hitting a home run over the fence for the first time when I was about 12 years old.  It was a play-off game and I was the lead-off hitter in the game.  We won 1-0.

While some of my teammates went on to play in college and the minor leagues, I stopped playing baseball when I reached high school because my passion was stronger for other sports.  I've never regretted the decision to hang up my cleats, but I'm glad that I played.

I want R. to be able to have those same experiences, but it is just not possible to "download" my baseball experiences into R.  Instead, I am trying to be supportive, positive, and encouraging.  Two years ago, R. told me that his dream was to be a professional baseball player.  I'm sure his "dream" tonight would be to quit.  But I'm not in the business of raising quitters.  And even if R. never plays another inning after this season, I want him to feel like he gave it his best shot.

If you build it, they will come...

I don't have any answers for R. or for the questions and concerns that I have running through my head.  When we got home, I suggested that R. and I watch a movie together.  I wanted to cheer him up and that seemed to work.  At bedtime, he asked for me to come in and read to him.  I did, even though I probably should have been braving the cold and fog to put in some mileage in preparation for Oceanside.  I guess I feel like being a dad is more important than getting in my own workout.

I'm grateful for R.'s coaches and his teammates who have been patient and supportive.  The other parents have also been incredibly nice, even though I really don't even know their names yet.  It is a little humbling to see strangers who are willing to help your child.  And I hope that I am reminded of this the next time I have the opportunity to pay it forward by coaching or cheering for a team.

R. may never make the Olympic baseball team, but I'm okay with that.  We all have challenges in life.  But the important thing may well be how we choose to respond to those challenges.  As a kid, my mom made us memorize this poem.  I can still recite it to this day:

Stick to your task till it sticks to you; 

Beginners are many, but enders are few. 

Honour, power, place, and praise 

Will come, in time, to the one who stays. 

Stick to your task till it stick to you;

Bend at it, sweat at it, smile at it too; 

For out of the bend and the sweat and the smile 

Will come life's victories, after awhile. 

-Anonymous 

Ralph Waldo Emerson (and President Heber J. Grant) said: "That which we persist in doing becomes easier to do, not that the nature of the thing has changed, but our power to do so is increased.”  Even if R. doesn't get a single hit the entire season, is it too "touchy-feely" to think that R.'s season will be successful if he learns the power of persistence?  As R.'s dad, my job is to try and teach him these types of lessons.

That doesn't necessarily make the current situation any easier for me though.  This experience is making me think that sometimes the toughest challenges in life may be the challenges that we witness our loved ones struggle to overcome.

So while I struggle to help R. improve his baseball skills and learn persistence, I have some areas of my own life in which I can experience growth--including having more patience and kindness.  And even if things seemed a little foggy last night, I can still hope that R. will achieve his dreams as the fog lifts and disperses--whether those dreams involve the baseball field or another worthy goal.