As yet, Mr. Barkley enjoys an approval rating among Juvenile Court workers above 95%.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
All Hail Charles Barkley, Our Next President
One of my favorite semi-jokes at Juvenile Court is to inform people that I can bet I know who their favorite politician is. When they wonder how I know, I inform them that Charles Barkley, the retired basketball star, has announced he intends to return to Alabama and run on the platform that, if elected, he will institute a policy that any man who fathers a child and doesn’t take responsibility will have their future abilities surgically removed in a public, live, televised ceremony.
As yet, Mr. Barkley enjoys an approval rating among Juvenile Court workers above 95%.
As yet, Mr. Barkley enjoys an approval rating among Juvenile Court workers above 95%.
My Delaware Client
A few years ago, I had a client (let’s call him “Del,” not his real name ) who lived in Columbus who had to face charges in Delaware, the county seat twenty miles north of the capital. He was in danger of doing jail time if he didn’t pay the County of Delaware a fine of several hundred dollars.
I made a couple of phone calls in his behalf, trying to fix him up with a job. Somewhat to my surprise, I lucked out and found him one. I called a man who had a business putting liquor initiatives on the ballot, getting people to sign petitions. It’s a couple of bucks a signature, and if you manage to get fifteen signatures in an hour, that’s a pretty decent day’s paycheck. The guy I knew remembered me for having done good work quite a few years earlier when I (and my legs) were a whole lot younger.
He told me he’d give my client a job one Saturday, provided I worked too. I figured, what the heck, I’m going the second mile for a client. Since my cash flow situation was less than ideal, I took him up on his offer.
I told Del to be ready at 11 on a Saturday and told him to be ready, wearing a dress shirt and a tie. When I arrived, he wasn’t ready because his grandmother was out getting him a dress shirt from Goodwill. I drove him to my ex-boss’s office and learned that this petitioning project was in Columbiana County, on the Pennsylvania line. I thought, what the hell, I’ll be in the Guinness Book of Records for this one.
We had a pretty productive day. My client cleared a hundred bucks worth of signatures, while I made two hundred bucks in signatures and mileage. As we drove back from Columbiana County, Del asked me, “How far are we from Mansfield?” I told him the sign just said ten miles. He said, “That’s where my father is. I hate him so much.” Turns out Del pere most of the boy’s life in Mansfield Correctional. When we got our checks a few days later, I told my client this was not his get-out-of-jail-free card, but definitely a break. All he had to do was sign his check over to the County, and they wouldn’t toss him in jail.
At this point, Del said, “Well, I don’t necessarily agree.” I had to be in Delaware Court anyhow, so I offered him a ride to pay the fine. He walked home instead. Del skipped his next court date and the court issued a warrant for his arrest. I then withdrew from the case.
Almost a year later, I got a call from the Delaware County Court informing me that Del was in their custody after a spell in Franklin County Jail, and that I was assigned to represent him again. When I went in to see my client, what do you suppose he said to me? “This is all your fault!”
I made a couple of phone calls in his behalf, trying to fix him up with a job. Somewhat to my surprise, I lucked out and found him one. I called a man who had a business putting liquor initiatives on the ballot, getting people to sign petitions. It’s a couple of bucks a signature, and if you manage to get fifteen signatures in an hour, that’s a pretty decent day’s paycheck. The guy I knew remembered me for having done good work quite a few years earlier when I (and my legs) were a whole lot younger.
He told me he’d give my client a job one Saturday, provided I worked too. I figured, what the heck, I’m going the second mile for a client. Since my cash flow situation was less than ideal, I took him up on his offer.
I told Del to be ready at 11 on a Saturday and told him to be ready, wearing a dress shirt and a tie. When I arrived, he wasn’t ready because his grandmother was out getting him a dress shirt from Goodwill. I drove him to my ex-boss’s office and learned that this petitioning project was in Columbiana County, on the Pennsylvania line. I thought, what the hell, I’ll be in the Guinness Book of Records for this one.
We had a pretty productive day. My client cleared a hundred bucks worth of signatures, while I made two hundred bucks in signatures and mileage. As we drove back from Columbiana County, Del asked me, “How far are we from Mansfield?” I told him the sign just said ten miles. He said, “That’s where my father is. I hate him so much.” Turns out Del pere most of the boy’s life in Mansfield Correctional. When we got our checks a few days later, I told my client this was not his get-out-of-jail-free card, but definitely a break. All he had to do was sign his check over to the County, and they wouldn’t toss him in jail.
At this point, Del said, “Well, I don’t necessarily agree.” I had to be in Delaware Court anyhow, so I offered him a ride to pay the fine. He walked home instead. Del skipped his next court date and the court issued a warrant for his arrest. I then withdrew from the case.
Almost a year later, I got a call from the Delaware County Court informing me that Del was in their custody after a spell in Franklin County Jail, and that I was assigned to represent him again. When I went in to see my client, what do you suppose he said to me? “This is all your fault!”
Tom Hanks Gaffe, Good for a Laugh
I once saw Tom Hanks give an interview about his role in Saving Private Ryan. He described himself and the others on his team as “Marines who just want to go home.” I wonder if anyone else caught Mr. Hanks’ gaffe.
In the film, Hanks plays Captain Miller, the commanding officer of a small group of Army Rangers who are on a mission to inform a Private Ryan of the 101st Airborne division that he has a ticket home. Both Rangers and paratroopers are extremely fine fighting men, both in 1944 and in the present day. My only small gripe with that film was that the unit’s translator is a complete wimp who is, by comparison, rather weak. He is wearing the blue and gray shoulder patch of the 29th Infantry Division. If I seem a bit touchy about that, it’s because I wore that patch myself for a brief time.
I think the reason Tom Hanks made that mistake is that, in preparing for the role, he and the other actors involved went to a mini boot camp put on by a retired Marine Captain named Dale Dye. Dye served in Vietnam as an enlisted man, picked up a Bronze Star and three Purple Hearts. He’s mentioned Michael Herr’s famous memoir, Dispatches. As a young man, he had enough braggadocio to wear a flower in his helmet liner, as if daring the enemy to shoot him. Dye advanced to the rank of Master Sergeant and became a warrant officer and then was commissioned as a Captain.
From everything I’ve heard, Dale Dye has is one hell of a Marine. By the time he was done with those actors, they very much wanted to go home. So in Tom Hanks’ conversation, apparently “Marine” is a synonym for “great fighting man.” That may be a gaffe, but I can only imagine that bit of news will make a certain retired Marine of my acquaintance laugh heartily up his XXXL sleeve.
In the film, Hanks plays Captain Miller, the commanding officer of a small group of Army Rangers who are on a mission to inform a Private Ryan of the 101st Airborne division that he has a ticket home. Both Rangers and paratroopers are extremely fine fighting men, both in 1944 and in the present day. My only small gripe with that film was that the unit’s translator is a complete wimp who is, by comparison, rather weak. He is wearing the blue and gray shoulder patch of the 29th Infantry Division. If I seem a bit touchy about that, it’s because I wore that patch myself for a brief time.
I think the reason Tom Hanks made that mistake is that, in preparing for the role, he and the other actors involved went to a mini boot camp put on by a retired Marine Captain named Dale Dye. Dye served in Vietnam as an enlisted man, picked up a Bronze Star and three Purple Hearts. He’s mentioned Michael Herr’s famous memoir, Dispatches. As a young man, he had enough braggadocio to wear a flower in his helmet liner, as if daring the enemy to shoot him. Dye advanced to the rank of Master Sergeant and became a warrant officer and then was commissioned as a Captain.
From everything I’ve heard, Dale Dye has is one hell of a Marine. By the time he was done with those actors, they very much wanted to go home. So in Tom Hanks’ conversation, apparently “Marine” is a synonym for “great fighting man.” That may be a gaffe, but I can only imagine that bit of news will make a certain retired Marine of my acquaintance laugh heartily up his XXXL sleeve.
A Sioux Joke
One of my Notre Dame Law School classmates is a fine gentleman who is a member of the Sioux Indian Nation and is something like 15/16s Sioux. He once informed me that the extreme ends of his alimentary canal are French, but everything else is Sioux. He is quite fond of politically incorrect humor and once asked, “What do you call a white man surrounded by fifty Indians?”
The answer: A bartender.
The flip side of that joke: “What do you call an Indian surrounded by fifty white guys?”
A casino operator.
The answer: A bartender.
The flip side of that joke: “What do you call an Indian surrounded by fifty white guys?”
A casino operator.
A British Joke
I rather enjoy the story of eight Britons who were shipwrecked on an island. When they were found the next year, the two Welsh were found at singing practice, the two Irish were busy contesting the middleweight boxing championship for the island. The two Scotsmen were busy in the distillery they had constructed and the two English were still waiting to find someone to introduce them.
A French Joke
The story goes that three little French boys, a five-year-old, a seven-year-old and a nine-year-old are walking along the street when they look into the window of a basement apartment and see a couple making love. The five-year-old says, “Look! They are wrestling!”
“No, no,” says the seven-year-old. “They are making love!”
“Oui,” says the nine-year-old. “And so very poorly.”
“No, no,” says the seven-year-old. “They are making love!”
“Oui,” says the nine-year-old. “And so very poorly.”
Three Black Oscars
A few years ago, when Halle Berry won an Oscar for her performance in Monster’s Ball, she and a few other people made a big deal out of it. Personally, I thought that was one of the most egregious examples of miscasting I’ve ever seen. Ms. Berry played the widow of a recently executed death row inmate who had not had a date in fifteen years. (The length of her husband’s stay on death row.) I would very much like to know what planet it is that women who look like Halle Berry go dateless for fifteen years. However, what those people apparently overlooked was that Ms. Berry was not the first black actor to have won an Oscar. In fact, she was the fourth. (I said, very much to my collaborator’s surprise.)
Looking at those four actors tells us a lot about how Hollywood has changed in the past eighty years. The first black actor to win an Oscar was Hattie McDaniel in the role of Mammy, a house servant, in Gone with the Wind. The most famous line spoken by a black actor in that film was not Ms. McDaniels’, rather from Butterfly McQueen who played Prissy and said, “Lawdy, Miss Scarlet, I don’t know nothing ‘bout birthin’ babies.”
Years later, Sidney Poitier became the first black man to win an Oscar in Lilies of the Field. In the early years of his career, he was stuck playing straight-arrow, righteous characters who were, in the expression of that long-ago time, “a credit to their race.” The most memorable lines from Lilies of the Field were no doubt Mr. Poitier singing hymns with his costars. Mr. Poitier played Homer Smith, a handyman whose costars are five white women, all nuns: Mother Maria, Sister Agnes, Sister Gertrude, Sister Lisbeth and Sister Albertine. I don’t think there could be any more dramatic contrast in roles than between Mr. Poitier’s Homer Smith and the role that Louis Gossett Jr. won his Oscar for in 1982’s An Officer and a Gentleman, Marine Gunnery Sergeant Drill Instructor Foley. Foley doesn’t sing any hymns; he puts the fear of God into his officer candidates.
Hattie McDaniel played a house servant, Sidney Poitier plays a handyman and Louis Gossett, Jr. is the man. Forgive my warped sense of humor, but one of my favorite parts is when, during a serious brawl, Gunnery Sergeant Foley says to Richard Gere’s character, Zach Mayo: “How about that, MAY-O-NNAISE? Your blood’s just as red as mine.”
Kindly note this public service to my readers. If you haven’t seen An Officer and a Gentleman, it isn’t a good idea to throw down with a Marine Drill Instructor.
Looking at those four actors tells us a lot about how Hollywood has changed in the past eighty years. The first black actor to win an Oscar was Hattie McDaniel in the role of Mammy, a house servant, in Gone with the Wind. The most famous line spoken by a black actor in that film was not Ms. McDaniels’, rather from Butterfly McQueen who played Prissy and said, “Lawdy, Miss Scarlet, I don’t know nothing ‘bout birthin’ babies.”
Years later, Sidney Poitier became the first black man to win an Oscar in Lilies of the Field. In the early years of his career, he was stuck playing straight-arrow, righteous characters who were, in the expression of that long-ago time, “a credit to their race.” The most memorable lines from Lilies of the Field were no doubt Mr. Poitier singing hymns with his costars. Mr. Poitier played Homer Smith, a handyman whose costars are five white women, all nuns: Mother Maria, Sister Agnes, Sister Gertrude, Sister Lisbeth and Sister Albertine. I don’t think there could be any more dramatic contrast in roles than between Mr. Poitier’s Homer Smith and the role that Louis Gossett Jr. won his Oscar for in 1982’s An Officer and a Gentleman, Marine Gunnery Sergeant Drill Instructor Foley. Foley doesn’t sing any hymns; he puts the fear of God into his officer candidates.
Hattie McDaniel played a house servant, Sidney Poitier plays a handyman and Louis Gossett, Jr. is the man. Forgive my warped sense of humor, but one of my favorite parts is when, during a serious brawl, Gunnery Sergeant Foley says to Richard Gere’s character, Zach Mayo: “How about that, MAY-O-NNAISE? Your blood’s just as red as mine.”
Kindly note this public service to my readers. If you haven’t seen An Officer and a Gentleman, it isn’t a good idea to throw down with a Marine Drill Instructor.
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