After quite a long week, that included getting rear-ended and having to go to UrgentCare, having my uncle die unexpectedly, having a big case wrap up, having a mediation in Oakland that went until 8:00 p.m. on Friday, and attending a surreal funeral service that my uncle's widow videotaped, I'm diving back into the regular world again. A bunch of lawyers are annoyed that I haven't gotten back to them yet. They'll survive.
I spoke at my uncle's funeral, which featured about ten friends and business associates getting up to talk before me, my dad and my cousin. I was a little bit disappointed that there was so much talk about his work, and so much less talk about his family. We actually heard more about the preacher's family than Roger's. By the way, preacher, whoever you were, when you are talking at a funeral, the last thing we give a damn about is your long sentimental story about your own grandchildren unless they are related to the guy we're burying.
The only good thing to happen in the last week was that I got to visit my cousins and my kids got to play with their kids. We stayed the weekend at a crappy Travelodge. It dipped below freezing overnight. It was so cold, if we had all run naked through the woods, you wouldn't have been able to tell who was circumcized. The morning of the funeral, we gathered a group of 11 and went to breakfast at a local hole-in-the-wall that only seats about 30 people. While we were waiting for our tables, one lady rolled up and got the bad news that they were behind a group of 11. She bitched to her friend "Who would bring 11 people to a place this small?" The answer: a hungry guy like me who doesn't particularly care whether it makes you wait an extra ten minutes for a table.
On the way home from Auburn, we thought about spending the afternoon in Yosemite Valley or Sequoia National Park, but we didn't have chains, and apparently the storm dumped a bunch of ice and snow on the roads. So instead, we took a couple of fruitless detours that just wasted time on windy roads, and we ended up spending the entire day in the car.
I saw a nutjob alongside the road predicting the end of the world. That has to be one of the most meaningless things you can do. If you are wrong, which you will be, you look like a fool. If you are right, you'll never live to be vindicated. It's a lose-lose proposition.
For the first time in many years, I didn't follow the Heisman Trophy events last weekend. Tebow won it. That makes as much sense as any other choice. McFadden or Brennan would have been deserving winners, too. I can't remember the last time a quarterback won it for a team that didn't win 10 games, and no one can remember a sophomore winning it, but then again, nobody had ever both run and thrown for more than 20 touchdowns in a year.
The last time Notre Dame won less than four games in a season (1956), Irish QB Paul Hornung won the Heisman Trophy. This year's best candidate at Notre Dame, however, was probably the kickoff returner. I'll bet nobody in the nation has returned more kickoffs.
My alma mater, St. Paul High, won a CIF Southern Section championship in football on Friday. It was the first since I was a student there. The newspaper story talked about how all the players were not even born when we won it the last time. That made me feel old. Losing my uncle made me feel old. Hurting my back in a car accident made me feel old.
I feel old, man.
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