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| Okay, Maybe Not HUNDREDS, Literally.Maybe figurative hundreds. Maybe more like 20 or 30. Possibly as many as 50.
I'm an exaggerator, and when I drink wine I exaggerate more. It's a bad habit. I need to kick it. Right after I kick the wine habit.
Still: beginning in school, a steady stream of friends, competitors, judges, professors, superiors and admirers have gone out of their way to wax on about his mad skillz. Is it "skilz" or "skillz"?? I'm so out of touch.
I don't know if they're just being insincere for the sake of being overly nice, because I'm not good at evaluating fake-ness that way. I tend to think not, because I barely know any of these people. I'm not kidding when I say that sometimes someone approaches me at the courthouse and shakes my hand and says, "I just want to tell you I've worked with your husband several times and he is just...(blah blah blah gushing praise for some aspect of his personality that I don't ever have the opportunity to experience for myself). It was disconcerting, years ago, when we first met. Now I'm used to it, although sometimes I still wonder if I'm one of those people married to someone whom everyone else universally admires but about whom they ask, "what does he see in HER?"
Years ago, even, when we had to go to marriage counseling because we were having a hard time getting off the ground, maritally speaking, the counselor said, in the second session, "Okay, OBL, I can see why you would want to make this work...Mr. OBL is handsome, successful, charming, smart (blah blah blah list of random adjectives). So let's talk about how we can...(get him to stop being such a pain in the ass, or words to that effect)."
For that matter, his current job situation arose exactly in this manner. He had a case where he was on the opposite side of Mr. McFabulous, the local well-known idolized hero of the courtroom (whom I personally think might be the devil. Just kidding. I don't really think that. Only late at night, when I can't sleep and it's dark and I'm obsessing and I hearken back to that weird movie with Keanu Reeves ((although really, which movie with Keanu WASN'T weird)) where he actually ended up working for the devil, by accident) and Mr. McFabulous was so impressed by my knight in shining armor that he offered him a job. We spent our entire third anniversary dinner discussing the pros and cons of working for (the devil) Mr. McFabulous.
To be fair, by all accounts Mr. McFabulous is *actually* fabulous, and not merely McFabulous. Please don't allow my bitterness and frustration and years of pent up negative emotion give you a negative impression of someone you will only ever know as Mr. McFabulous. I hear he's really a super terrific guy. That's what EVERYONE says.
(well, not everyone.)
Anyway, we fought bitterly about his job with Mr. McFabulous right from the start. In retrospect, I can see that much of it was my fault, based on immaturity and jealousy and exhaustion (due to the rearing of kids around Mr. McFabulous' exhausting schedule).
On the other hand, and in fairness to ME, fabulous people are hard to manage, no matter how tangentially. They suck the life right out of you. They take over your life, as much as you allow them, and they aren't good about things like vacations or childbirth or your first child's dance recital. Back in the days when we used to watch West Wing, we would have conversations like this:
him: Ha. No wonder Josh isn't married. Look how hard he works...he just said he's wearing yesterday's suit.
me: sad for Josh he's spending his entire adulthood playing second fiddle to an imaginary president and won't ever have his own kids or family.
him: seriously. What would you do if I worked in the White House? If you can't handle THIS schedule...
me: you don't work in the White House. Mr. McFabulous is NOT the president.
Which is all good and well for, say, a decade while a youngster "proves himself," or "pays his dues," or whatever it is people do in these bizarre professional mentor/mentee relationships.
Eh, it's time for lunch. I'm ruining my mood just thinking about this stuff. Maybe tomorrow I'll tell you the rest of the story. The Second Decade. | | |
| An Extraordinary TalentDo you believe, in your heart of hearts, that you have an extraordinary talent? Or that someone you love has an extraordinary talent, something that will distinguish him or her, something seldom seen?
I had a disconcerting discussion with a colleague tonight. For some years my husband has been working for someone with an uncommon talent. An extraordinary talent. Everyone who describes his gift describes it in a slightly different way, but almost no one has failed to notice it.
I haven't been exposed to it, I'll admit, but spotting talent is not my skill. Or perhaps another way to put it: I am good at spotting talent in some arenas, but not in others.
When I met my husband in school I was drawn to him for a million personal reasons, having to do with his kindness and integrity and sense of humor, but almost no professional reasons. I wasn't particularly engaged by professional qualities, in those days. Interestingly though, other people were. Our early dating years and our first five years of marriage were characterized by the constant stream of people who took it upon themselves to tell me what an extraordinary talent my husband has for legal work.
We were in school together. Then we worked in the same office for 3 years. Then we lived side by side while working in the same field for 2 more years. We still work in the same area, but I've never seen him in trial and, while I love and adore and value him for his many fantastic qualities, I have to admit to you that I've never seen his professional abilities showcased.
My colleague was telling me that she sees her own husband, and mine, as working for a man of extraordinary talent, and learning whatever portion of that talent can be taught, but ultimately, not possessing their own extraordinary talent.
I found this somewhat shocking.
If there is a single fact in the fifteen years we've shared together that I've taken for granted, it's that my husband has an extraordinary talent. I admit, I haven't had the opportunity to personally study it. I can't put in words, even, why I believe he has an extraordinary talent. Maybe I've just been lazy, and relied on the opinions of literally hundreds of people I respect and admire who have sought me out to tell me he has an extraordinary talent. Maybe I just assume he has an exceptional talent because so many other people seem to assume it.
My personal opinion is that he is wasting his life continuing to work for the betterment of someone else's extraordinary talent. I personally feel he should step out and let those amazing abilities shine. I've spent much of the past, say, 5 years urging this course of action on him.
Suddenly tonight it has occurred to me that there is a remote (it's very, very remote) possibility that I might be wrong about something as big and crucial as this.
That can't be right.
Does that sound right to you?
It doesn't even sound possible that I could be so wrong for such a long period of time.
Nah. | | |
| QuittingWhen I was a teenager my parents warned me not to quit a job, no matter how unimportant without a good reason. For example, going to college = a good reason to quit working at Blockbuster. Wanting to go to the beach with my friends = not a good reason to quit working at Blockbuster. My parents made the point that if you quit a job prematurely or for a trivial reason at worst it would reflect poorly on you in future job interviews, and at best the experience would be completely worthless as you wouldn't be able to brag about it in future job interviews.
I cannot understand why, under any reasonable scenario, Sarah Palin would quit being the governor of Alaska mid-stream. It makes absolutely no sense to me.
Bad enough to quit a job checking groceries, when they have 100 people they could call next and people quit every day. Grocery checker is not exactly a job in high demand. It's not what you'd call "high-profile."
Governor, on the other hand, a job you have to get *elected* for, in a public, statewide election, by convincing a lot of people in the state that you a) really want the job; and b) really can *do* the job; and c) deserve the job for whatever other weird reasons individual voters think people should be elected, well, governor seems to be the kind of job you should respect enough to finish, if you get it.
It has a particular term, after all. It's not like you're stuck doing it forever. Even if you hate it or you're really terrible at it or it interferes with your primping schedule, you really only have to stick it out for a few years.
Law school kinda sucked, sometimes. I like sucky school experiences, because I'm geeky and weird that way, but my husband hated it. Still, it would have made no sense to *quit* it. Why would you quit?? You had to compete to get in, you don't have to use the law license when it's over, and it only lasts three years.
I'm not afraid to quit. I frequently get halfway done with a book before I decide I hate it and it's not worth my time and then I just quit reading it. I quit trying to run marathons after I developed IT band syndrome three years in a row. I quit riding horses as a hobby when I realized how much money it costs. I've quit a lot of things in my life.
I'm pretty sure, though, without an *extremely* compelling personal reason, I wouldn't quit being a governor. | | |
| Unconnected, Connected ThingsI cried at the Hampton Inn, remember? In S.C. Strange and horrifying things going on very close to there. VERY close. So close, one wonders what might have happened if I'd stopped to ask for directions when we were lost in the industrial downtown.
Saw the Dillinger movie today. Johnny Depp was fantastic, as usual. The story was steeped in history and therefore somewhat dull. At the end of the day, it was just a bunch of machine gun smash-and-grabs. At the same time, the rise of the FBI, the role of Jay Edgar Hoover and the treatment of Purvis made it more interesting. I liked the fact that they portrayed brutality in equal parts on both sides. It was helpful for me to see a movie that didn't glorify law enforcement.
I'm struggling a little bit with my feelings about my new case.
Remember In Cold Blood? I read that book more than once. It was so chilling for me. So many crimes seem less than criminal, to me. I'm very forgiving that way. Often it seems to come down to a judgment call or a morality issue, and I have no problem dispensing with attitudes about those. Other times it comes down to the risks taken by the victim. I know that seems like a hard way to look at the world, but if you're dealing drugs or running a meth lab out of your home and someone kills you, well, it's like living in the burbs and dying in a car accident. It's statistically likely. Or at least, statistically possible. Something to take into account. Something to consider, before you open the meth lab. Or before you move out to the burbs and take on a 45 minutes daily freeway commute. People who live in the desert sometimes get bitten by scorpions, that's all I'm saying. And still other times it's just a matter of criminalizing accidents or bad luck or unfortunate aspects of the human condition. Sometimes people do stupid or even mean-spirited things, and other people get hurt. People are brutal that way. I don't like it, but I understand it.
On the other hand, if you live in a farmhouse in the middle of nowhere with your churchgoing family and someone who is missing one (or more) of the essential qualities of humanity gets it into his head that you might have a safe in your floor with a lot of cash in it, well, that's a tragedy in my eyes.
If you're missing one or more of the essential qualities of humanity, but you love one person, you actually love one person, does that redeem you in any way? I don't know. The Dillinger movie made me think about that. He was pretty careless with the lives of innocent people, after all, and yet in the movie he was portrayed as a man who loved his friends and his girlfriend in a passionate, dependable way. Is that redeeming?
What do you do in your head if you're an empathetic person, and you meet someone who is devoid of empathy? Do you feel empathy for them? Empathy is about putting yourself in someone else's shoes, after all, but how can you put yourself in the shoes of someone who can think only of himself?
Maybe people only seem to be missing essential human qualities, when in fact, they just get distracted from something very important (morally speaking) at a crucial moment.
When I read In Cold Blood I remember feeling dissatisfied at the end of it, because I got barely a glimpse of what might make someone do something like that. I still didn't understand it, completely. I still couldn't completely imagine myself in their shoes, making the decisions they made. It's one thing if you're talking about the criminally insane. The person who kills for the thrill of it. I already know no amount of reading or discussion or education can make me understand that, because it can't be understood from the outside. I'm talking about the run-of-the-mill people, like In Cold Blood, who don't get a thrill out of it but *do it anyway* and feel no remorse.
Even robbing a convenience store makes some rational sense. I would never do it. I can *imagine* it, though. I can imagine a life I could live where I *might* be capable of doing such a thing, even if it resulted in someone's death, if I were addicted to heroine or I was desperate or maybe running from a crime syndicate bent on killing me. Or if I had schizophrenia. Or I just really really really needed the money.
John Dillinger seemed tortured and interesting and even sympathetic. But he didn't seem redeemed, to me.
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| 10,001 Steps at the End of a LONG WeekCamp is over, thank goodness, so as of 3:00 p.m. today I no longer have to risk life and limb on the freeways and drag my two non-participating innocents in the minivan all over town twice a day to satisfy a carpool obligation I did NOT voluntarily accept. Today on the way to camp pick-up we saw an ambulance in flames on the freeway, black smoke billowing out over downtown, traffic backed up for miles. I hope the people inside weren't killed. Having said that, the traffic set off a chain reaction which became a monumental frustration by the time I rushed through the throngs of parents, late, after searching for a parking spot in 102 degree heat for more than 25 minutes.
I am trying sooooooooooo hard to give up the wine so I can drop 15 pounds but let me tell you, there are days it seems impossible.
Work is just crazy right now. Still fun. But crazy.
I'm supposed to write the neighborhood newsletter, but I'll be honest, I've been feeling a little petulant about that obligation lately too. I think it's time I dropped some of my volunteer activities, if I'm going to maintain a full-time work schedule and continue to take care of my kids. It's all getting to be a little much. The newsletter is a thankless job. I've been doing it for 4 years and I used to enjoy it, but lately it has become annoying. Part of the problem is my delivery person. He is slow and unpredictable and occasionally cancels on me at the last second, which I find irritating, since that means I have the responsibility to walk door to door for four hours and deliver newspapers for less than $10 an hour. Did I mention it's 102?
I think maybe I'll have to pour some wine.
I am babysitting the camp friend for another hour this evening, and I'm finding it hard to relax. I've made snacks, cleaned the kitchen, prepared for dinner, put my work to sleep until the 6th, paid the bills that must be paid before Monday and walked 10,001 steps. I think I'm going to open a sauvignon blanc and weight-loss resolutions be damned! It's that or eat a plate of chocolate chip cookies, and really, won't the wine be better for me?
Okay, so I'm already feeling some psychic relief from the mere thought of giving up the neighborhood obligations. I think I'm going to advertise for the newsletter position in the next newsletter. Then I'm going to finish out this year as secretary. Then I'm going to resign in January as secretary, and serve out my remaining Board year as the person who just shows up at the meetings and does nothing. Ah. Relief.
PLEASE do NOT let me volunteer for anything more than I've already agreed to do at the elementary school this fall!! When school starts, REMIND ME how completely nuts it gets and do NOT let me sign up to do the Holiday Party or the Valentine's Day Party or the book fair or the carnival or the prom or ANYTHING ELSE.
The kids are out of popcorn and blueberries and cookies and water and they need batteries and tape and scissors and attention, of course. I've got one in time out and others causing problems and now the phone is ringing, so I guess it's time to wrap this up.
And find the wine-opener.
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