| Thursday, November 30, 2006 |
| Another perspective on that NYT article |
San Francisco Chronicle columnist Jon Carroll wrote an article yesterday about the same New York Times piece mentioned in my Nov. 28 blog entry.
Glassman looks up to Buffett and Gates: "They are going to make a much greater contribution by having made money and giving it away than most, almost all, scientists." Well, no. If those underpaid scientists had not spent all that ill-compensated time peering into microscopes and nosing around African swamps and setting up clinics and creating the medicines that will help mitigate human suffering, then the fortunes of American billionaires would have little to purchase. Of course, some scientists work their entire lives on projects that go nowhere, but by pursuing an unpromising line of inquiry, they have allowed others to follow other, more fruitful paths.
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posted by 125records @ 1:49 PM  |
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| Tuesday, November 28, 2006 |
| The New York Times' obsession with the super-rich |
Before I became the independent small businesswoman I am today, I frequently committed acts of journalism. I was a freelancer, but most of my friends were on staff at a large newspaper. This much I can tell you about journalists: they don't make a huge amount of money. If you hear about a rich print journalist -- someone like Mitch Albom, Dave Barry or Carl Hiaasen -- you can bet they're making the vast majority of their money by writing books or doing speaking engagements.
According to New York Magazine, Sam Tanenhaus, the editor of the New York Times Book Review, makes $180,000 a year. I'm guessing he's one of the higher paid employees at the Times. Crossword editor Will Shortz earns a relatively paltry $90,000. (If those salaries seem really high to you, you obviously don't know much about the cost of living in New York.)
I think the New York Times has its problems, but it is a really well-written, interesting newspaper. I don't have time to read it on a regular basis, but I do subscribe to an online feature which provides me with a daily list of the 10 most popular stories on the paper's web site. Hardly representative of the Times as a whole, but it provides a glimpse of what the paper is publishing, and the stories that resonate with its readership.
What are Times readers -- and, presumably, its writers and editors -- interested in? Rich people. And not your garden-variety rich people, like, say, Times executive editor Bill Keller, who pulls in $650,000 a year. I'm talking about really, really rich people. In the recent article "Lure of Great Wealth Affects Career Choices," yesterday's most popular story on the paper's web site, we meet Robert H. Glassman, who hoped "to achieve breakthroughs in curing cancer, his specialty... until Wall Street reordered his life." As "a managing director of health care investment banking" for Merrill Lynch, Dr. Glassman is now a multi-millionaire.
Another recent Times piece ("In Web world, rich now envy the superrich"), which also enjoyed great popularity online, profiled Silicon Valley millionaires who were envious of billionaires. The creator of one successful web site, James Hong, happened to be best friends with the guy who started Paypal.com, and found himself jealous when he couldn't measure up to his friend's rich lifestyle. In an attempt to put a lid on his envy, Hong sold his $55,000 Porsche Boxster and bought a Prius. "'I don't want to live the life of a Boxster, because when you get a Boxster you wish you had a 911,' he said, referring to a much more expensive Porsche. 'And you know what people who have 911s wish they had? They wish they had a Ferrari.'"
Joe theorized that the Times coverage of extremely wealthy individuals was due to its readers' affluence. It's true that Times readers are better off than most Americans, but you might be surprised to learn that they're not as rich as you might think. According to a 2002 reader study, the average income of a Times reader is $162,600. That's a lot, but considering that a lot of them probably live in Manhattan, it's not outrageously wealthy.
In the "Lure of Great Wealth" piece I referenced above, the mega-wealthy are lauded for their charity. "It is astonishing how many gifts of $100 million have been made in the last year," a Yale vice president for development said. The wealthy doctor hopes to follow in the footsteps of Bill Gates and Warren Buffett: "They are going to make much greater contributions by having made money and then giving it away than most, almost all, scientists," said Dr. Glassman.
What goes through the mind of the average Times reader, and indeed the average Times reporter, when they read a story like this one? I'll tell you what went through my mind: I felt depressed. My idea of "charitable giving" is writing a check for a couple hundred bucks to the humane society or a local food bank. What if I had gone into a more lucrative field? Not only would I have benefited (Dr. Glassman and his family are currently house-hunting, looking for a place "large enough to accommodate a wood-paneled study where [he] could put all his books and his diplomas and 'feel that it is his own'" -- hey, I'd like a wood-paneled study too!) but so would my favorite charities. Not being insanely wealthy is, well, selfish!
Curious about the writer of the piece -- another underpaid Times lackey? -- I searched on his name, and found that he is the author of a book called The Disposable American: Layoffs and Their Consequences, a book about how corporate America's policies have hurt the middle class. "As [a laid-off airline mechanic] tells Mr. Uchitelle... 'It is hard to look in your son's eyes and explain to him that you are making $12 an hour and know his high school friends are making that much on the side.'"
OK, I'm not making a ton of money ("One in every 825 households earned at least $2 million last year," according to Mr. Uchitelle's article about Dr. Glassman), but I'm doing a lot better than most people, and certainly a lot better than the seniors and critically ill people served by Project Open Hand. "Any amount is appreciated," says the organization's web site, informing visitors that $35 provides a week's worth of meals for its clients. "You can be assured that your contribution will make a real difference in someone's life." Even if it's not $10 million. Thanks for the reality check, Project Open Hand; my donation will be on its way soon. |
| posted by 125records @ 3:49 PM |
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| Sunday, November 26, 2006 |
| Harry Christmas |
After my usual I-hate-Christmas rantings, you would expect me to be the last person in the world to buy tickets to a Christmas carol sing-a-long, right? And yet, that's exactly what I did. As long as you're not hearing them in a mall, there's nothing really wrong with Christmas carols.
Friday and Saturday, Harry Shearer and his wife, singer/songwriter Judith Owen, held an Xmas event at the Great American Music Hall in San Francisco. Because I'm a fan of both -- I've previously written in this space that Judith's Christmas song "The Dancing Tree" is one of my all-time favorites in any genre, and I listen to Harry's "Le Show" every Sunday on KALW-FM -- I figured I had to go. Plus, it was a fund-raiser for a good cause. So on Friday night, we trekked into the city, and for the second time in a row, I found a killer free parking space (non-handicapped this time, but I was able to drop Joe off at the theater first, so it was OK). Despite my general grinchitude, I have to say I had a great time. Harry and Judith performed several songs, including (yay!) "The Dancing Tree," and they introduced a few special guests: Jill Sobule, Julia Fordham, and a cappella group The Bobs. Among the highlights: The Bobs did an astonishing version of Cream's "White Room," which they said was easier to learn than "White Christmas," and Jill Sobule performed her holiday classic "Jesus Was a Dreidel Spinner." After an hour of listening to the professionals play music, Judith led the audience in a raucous holiday sing-a-long, including a "Twelve Days of Christmas" in which she somehow managed to split the audience into 12 segments and coerced us into doing all sorts of crazy things. I was in the "two calling birds" group, so we all flapped our "wings" when we sang our part. Luckily, considering Joe's relative immobility, we didn't have to act out "lords a-leaping."
On Saturday, we went to see "For Your Consideration," which stars Harry as a washed-up actor who's been making a living acting in TV commercials (most famously, one in which he's required to wear a wiener costume). When he is cast in an indie film called "Home For Purim," he and co-star Catherine O'Hara become the target of Oscar buzz, and they begin to hope their fortunes have changed at last. I am a big fan of the Christopher Guest oeuvre, but this wasn't one of my faves; I felt that the film was a little mean-spirited toward the O'Hara character. We had originally been planning to see "FYC" on my birthday, but we had to go on Saturday instead; it's playing in a theater where two of the three screens aren't handicap-accessible, and we had to strike while it was in the downstairs theater. I'm kind of glad we saw it when we did, because it was a bit of a downer.
Sunday, I made it a Shearer trifecta by heading to Cody's Books in Berkeley, where he was signing copies of his new novel, Not Enough Indians. I'm pleased to report that he seemed like an extremely nice guy -- I asked the very first question after his talk, a rather esoteric query about his radio show, and I also complimented him on the success of the Christmas sing-a-long. He was terribly gracious and I hope he enjoyed the Berkeley audience, which seemed genuinely interested in him and his work. (Luckily, no one asked him to "do" Mr. Burns or Smithers.) There aren't a lot of celebs I truly admire, but Harry Shearer really seems like a first-rate individual, not to mention a highly intelligent one (he won on "Celebrity Jeopardy" a couple weeks ago).
As if I didn't have enough reasons to be wild about Harry, when he called on me during the question period, he referred to me (un-ironically, I'm quite sure) as "the young lady up front." Young lady! Considering that the ol' odometer is about to turn over, I really appreciated hearing that. |
| posted by 125records @ 8:54 PM |
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| Saturday, November 25, 2006 |
| Merry Shopmas |
I suppose it's high time I post something again. We're heading into my least favorite time of the year -- the annual celebration of America's true religion, consumerism. Last year at this time, I had all of my gift shopping done; I was browsing at the mall as workers were just starting to put up holiday decorations. This year, not surprisingly, I'm nowhere near finished. My goal is to buy everything online.
Really, there was no better way to kick off the season than by seeing the latest ACT production, Lillian Hellman's "The Little Foxes," a tale of incredible greed and venality. We totally scored by snagging a handicapped parking spot half a block from the theater; hey, there has to be some advantage to having a disability! "The Little Foxes" is set in the early part of the 20th century and tells the story of three wealthy Southern siblings: Regina, Ben and Oscar. The men have a business deal in place that could make them even richer, but they need to come up with some more money in order to put together the initial investment. Regina's ill husband, Horace, is off at Johns Hopkins Hospital, but she really wants in on that deal, so she sends her daughter Alexandra to Baltimore in order to bring him home, despite his bum ticker. When Horace isn't convinced, Regina comes up with a way to make sure he cooperates. Meanwhile, Oscar and Ben cook up a highly illegal way to raise the cash on their own, without involving (and having to share the profits with) Regina.
This is one of the best productions I've seen at ACT. The set, the interior of Regina's mansion, was gorgeous; the play, while long (3 acts), moved at a brisk pace; the actors were all first-rate. The audience seemed really into it. During the final scenes, you could practically sense the crowd holding its collective breath, eager to see what happened next. There are still five plays left in the season, but it'll be hard to beat this one for general excellence. |
| posted by 125records @ 1:05 PM |
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| Saturday, November 18, 2006 |
| Feud in the hall |
Moving on from today's painful loss...
When I took the dog out this morning, I noticed there was a sign taped to the door of a neighboring apartment. It said, "Please stop making NOISE at night (expecially at midnight)," and was illustrated with a frowny face.
Now, there are only three apartments in this section of the floor: ours, which is at the end of the hall, and two which have doors facing one another. I think it's safe to assume that whoever put the sign on the door is the across-the-hall neighbor.
This was a curiously passive-aggressive move. Why not just knock on the door and ask the neighbor to quiet down, or mention it when you pass in the hall? It's not like you're going to be able to keep your identity a secret in this situation.
Also, why post the sign on the door instead of sliding it under the door? And did the sign-maker post it on his or her own door, so everyone would be able to see it, or did he or she put it on the alleged noisemaker's door? I must admit I have never heard any noise from either of those apartments, so I don't know which one is the complainee and which is the complainer.
Anyway, when I took the dog out for his afternoon walk, the sign had been corrected in red pen:
 For some reason, people in this building just love to communicate via handwritten sign. We had "no running in the hall" posted a few months ago, and then there was the curious "don't let your dog pee in the elevator" one, which made me wonder how the sign-maker knew the mess had been left by a dog, as opposed to, say, a drunk college student. It's enough to make me wish I lived in a cabin deep in the woods, where the neighbors are sufficiently far away that they'd have to send their snippy little messages via carrier pigeon. |
| posted by 125records @ 4:54 PM |
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| Friday, November 17, 2006 |
| R.I.P. Bo |
If anything can fire up the U of M football team tomorrow, it must be the death of beloved former coach Bo Schembechler. In an odd twist, a Columbus punk band called the Dead Schembechlers was scheduled to headline an anti-Michigan rally tonight, playing songs such as "Bomb Ann Arbor Now," "I Don't Wanna Be A Wolverine," "Schembechler Kicked My Crippled Dog," "I Wipe My Ass with Wolverine Fur," and "Bo For 24," described as "a mocking reference to Schembechler's failing to win a national championship in his 24 years at Michigan." Apparently Bo himself was flattered by the group's existence, telling a reporter "I still matter in Columbus!"
In the days before his death, Schembechler was still being quoted by the press, expounding about a search by bomb-sniffing dogs that the Michigan team underwent before their '04 game in Columbus, and his admiration for Ohio quarterback Troy Smith. The legendary coach had planned to watch tomorrow's game on a newly purchased plasma TV.
(By the way, the Dead Schembechlers' northern counterparts are the Dropkick Woodys, whose single is called "I Spit On Woody's Grave.") |
| posted by 125records @ 12:35 PM |
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| Thursday, November 16, 2006 |
| Saturday! Saturday! Saturday! |
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| posted by 125records @ 5:59 PM |
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| Wednesday, November 15, 2006 |
| For my birthday? FOX, you shouldn't have. No, really - YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE. |
On Nov. 27, FOX-TV will air the first segment of a two-part special, "O.J. Simpson: If I Did It, Here's How It Happened." "In the two-part event, Simpson describes how he would have carried out the murders he has vehemently denied committing for over a decade." It's brought to you by Mike Darnell, the same programming genius responsible for previous FOX reality shows and specials like "Alien Autopsy: Fact or Fiction?," "When Animals Attack," "Busted on the Job," "Who Wants to Marry a Multi-Millionaire?," "Temptation Island," "Married by America," "Celebrity Boxing," and so many more. We can only hope that no advertisers actually want to buy time on the thing, thereby rendering it a (financial) failure no matter how many folks tune in.
Joe had an idea for a sequel: "Saddam Hussein: If I Gassed the Kurds, Here's How I Did It." |
| posted by 125records @ 3:44 PM |
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| Monday, November 13, 2006 |
| Strange times |
One of the staples of late-night talk shows is the segment where the hosts show products or items that are real, but funny. David Letterman had "Supermarket Finds," "Dave's Video Collection" and "Small Town News"; Jay Leno reads "Headlines." Dave also featured segments with made-up products, like books and greeting cards, concocted by his writers. I always enjoyed the real-life items much more, because anyone can make up a wacky product; knowing that Jim Beam Pancake Syrup and Bloody Clams are out there on store shelves just makes them that much funnier. Truth really is stranger than fiction. That's probably one of the reasons "The Daily Show" is my favorite program. A gay-bashing minister whose megachurch is adorned with homoerotic art turns out to have patronized a male prostitute for "massages" and crystal meth? That's hilarious. And now, that legendary team player Terrell Owens has come out with a children's book called Little T Learns To Share. I mean, you can't make that stuff up!!!
Last night, Joe & I went to see Marc Salem's Mind Games show at the Post Street Theater in San Francisco. Salem is a mentalist, although he's quick to point out that he's not involved in the supernatural or the occult; it's all about psychology. In one amazing trick, he brought up a volunteer from the audience to choose a book at random from a bookshelf on the stage. Then she opened the book to a random page, hiding it from Salem, and he told her to focus her mind on the first word on that page. He started running rapidly through the alphabet -- "A, B, C, D, E -- E's the first letter. The second letter is closer to the end of the alphabet... Z, Y, X, W, V -- V is the second letter." In just a minute, Salem managed to tease out that the word was "everything." I guess he must have been reading micro-expressions on her face as he hit on the correct letters. He also managed to ascertain when audience members were lying in another exercise. Apparently this is one of his specialties; he's served as a consultant to lawyers, police officers and therapists. It would be really interesting to watch political speeches or press conferences with Salem -- or televised appearances by Ted Haggard, for that matter. |
| posted by 125records @ 2:12 PM |
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| Friday, November 10, 2006 |
| Medical update |
Joe saw an orthopedic surgeon today, who looked at his X-rays and said he had a broken fibula, but the good news is that it's a nondisplaced fracture, which means he probably won't need surgery. Instead, he was fitted for an enormous walker boot, which he has to wear all the time, except in the shower/bath. In about a week, he will be able to start putting a little weight on the foot. Eventually he should be able to switch from the crutches to a cane. He's having a pretty hard time getting around on the crutches. In a month, he'll go back to the orthopedist and have his ankle re-X-rayed to make sure it's healing properly.
I am on the mailing lists of about a zillion different Bay Area arts organizations, and frequently get offers to enter contests to win free tickets to shows or events. I entered one a few days ago, and won two tickets for a show in San Francisco on Sunday. Ordinarily, going to the city would entail a BART ride and a few blocks' walk, but now I have to consider where to park, whether there are any stairs, what to do with Joe's crutches when we're seated, etc. At least for us, all of these considerations are temporary, but there are obviously plenty of disabled people who have to deal with these things on a permanent basis. An injury like this one really makes you look at the world in a very different way, and appreciate the gains that have been made by advocates for the disabled over the past couple of decades.
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| posted by 125records @ 4:11 PM |
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| Tuesday, November 07, 2006 |
| We interrupt this blogcast to bring you this important bulletin |
When you check your voice mail, you never want to hear all of the following words in a single sentence: your husband, paramedics, ambulance and emergency room. Even if the sentence also includes the words injured playing basketball, it still sounds really, really bad. Because you think, well, it's a sports injury, how bad can it be? And then you hear it again: paramedics, ambulance, emergency room...
So I wound up spending the better part of the afternoon at the hospital, where Joe had been taken after he went into shock after his injury. After the X-rays, it turns out he has a fracture, and will have to wear a cast and walk on crutches for a few weeks.
After the initial relief that he was going to be OK, I realized that for a while, I am going to have to be responsible for all the cooking, cleaning, dog-walking, driving, errand-running, etc. around here. I say that not in an attempt to garner sympathy, but to provide an explanation as to why I might not be as prompt an e-mail correspondent, webmaster, blogger and record company mail order fulfillment person as I usually am. So have a little patience, and send your healing thoughts our way.
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| posted by 125records @ 8:51 PM |
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| Sunday, November 05, 2006 |
| Two Freaky Films |
I don't like scary movies; if something has too much violence or gore, I'll stay home. However, while it's pretty easy to avoid, say, "Saw III" or "The Hills Have Eyes," it's sometimes impossible to tell if a film will wind up giving me nightmares.
"The Prestige" is one of the most disturbing films I've ever seen. I'm not sorry I saw it, exactly, because it's very well made and interesting, and I always enjoy films set in that turn of the (last) century time period. But there are things in this movie that freaked me the hell out. If you think "The Sixth Sense" had plot twists, you ain't seen nothing yet; "The Prestige" has plot twists on top of plot twists. It concerns two rival magicians in London, one played by Christian Bale, the other by Hugh Jackman. I really like Jackman (he was Wolverine, after all!), whereas Bale has that vole-like quality I so dislike in Tom Cruise, so I developed a rooting interest in the Jackman character, Robert Angier. Let's just say that by the end of the movie, any sympathy you might have had for either of these fellows is long gone. If you want to see something truly creepy, I strongly recommend "The Prestige"; if you want something with more conventional heroes & villains that is set in a similar milieu, well, "The Illusionist" is still playing in a bunch of theaters. I had a better time at "The Illusionist," but I'll never forget "The Prestige."
The new movie "Fur: An Imaginary Portrait of Diane Arbus" is an origin story: how did a 35-year-old woman from a wealthy family, working as her husband's assistant as he photographs fashion models for newspaper ads, suddenly become one of the greatest artists of the 20th century? Director Steven Shainberg was intrigued by Patricia Bosworth's biography of Arbus, and decided to spin his own fictional tale of what inspired her to pick up a camera. Unexpectedly, "Fur" morphs into a retelling of "Beauty and the Beast," starring Nicole Kidman and a very hairy Robert Downey Jr.
Downey plays the mysterious man who moves into the apartment above the Arbuses; he has an unusual condition that makes him look like a member of the Chewbacca clan. He pals around with a group of carnival freaks, and introduces Diane to his world (and to the future subjects of her famous photos).
I admire Shainberg for wanting to go beyond the conventional biopic, but it's doubtful that fans of Arbus will be satisfied with this film, since the scenario is made up and the movie ends before Arbus actually begins taking pictures; one of the last shots is of a blank photo album, one which will, presumably, soon be filled with her work. Who, then, is this movie aimed at? Based on some of the things that happen in it, I suspect it will become a hit with anyone who has a fur fetish (hey, those people are out there; remember that "CSI" episode a few years back?). Otherwise, it's doubtful many filmgoers will be captivated by "Fur." |
| posted by 125records @ 10:56 PM |
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| Thursday, November 02, 2006 |
| Books, Books, Books |
Books read, October '06:
The Mermaid Chair by Sue Monk Kidd
Life, Death and Bialys by Dylan Schaffer
The Deep Blue Alibi by Paul Levine
The Clovis Incident by Pari Noskin Taichert
The James Deans by Reed Farrel Coleman
Books bought:
The Deep Blue Alibi by Paul Levine
Kill All the Lawyers by Paul Levine
The Clovis Incident by Pari Noskin Taichert
The Belen Hitch by Pari Noskin Taichert
First Cut by Peter Robinson
Murphy's Law by Rhys Bowen (purchased as a gift)
Even though I sometimes joke that I was born without the "shopping gene," there is one type of store I will always happily spend time in, and that's a bookstore. I actually planned our Arizona trip so I could visit the Poisoned Pen in Scottsdale, which is one of the largest mystery bookstores in the U.S. I was not disappointed; the store only sells new books, but they seem to have just about every single mystery currently in print. One of my clients, Rhys Bowen, happened to be signing there; at that point in the trip, it was nice to encounter a friendly face from home.
I wrote last month how much I loved Paul Levine's Solomon vs. Lord, so I was compelled to buy the two sequels. Unsurprisingly, The Deep Blue Alibi was not nearly as good as Solomon, but in a bit of synchronicity, I happened to be reading it while we were in Las Vegas, staying in a hotel that was home to the LV branch of Jimmy Buffett's Margaritaville restaurant. Alibi has a plot thread about Buffett and the characters visit the Margaritaville in Key West, FL. In honor of the book, I suggested we go to Margaritaville—I don't care for Jimmy Buffett's music, but hey, margaritas!—but when we stepped inside, there was a helicopter landing inside the restaurant. Or maybe it was a seaplane. In any event, the decibel level was astounding. Needless to say, we went elsewhere.
People in my book club swear that book #3, Kill All the Lawyers, is much better than Alibi, so at least I have that to look forward to. I thought it might make a cheeky selection to bring along to jury duty, but I decided to go with the less provocatively titled Blood Hollow by William Kent Krueger. |
| posted by 125records @ 11:15 AM |
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| Wednesday, November 01, 2006 |
| Dismissed! |
I had to arise at the (for me) uncivilized hour of 7 AM yesterday to make it to the Oakland courthouse by 8:30. After spending about 90 minutes sitting around the jury room, including watching an orientation film called "Ideals Made Real," I was in the very first group of around 40-50 people called. We trooped up to the courtroom of Judge Cecilia Castellanos. The sign by the door indicated that it was going to be a civil case, not a criminal one, which was good news, as I wouldn't have to worry about being exposed to gory or disturbing evidence.
Once we settled in the courtroom, we were introduced to the lawyers and their clients. 12 names were called, mine among them. Each of us had to go through a list of questions, many of which had to do with our experiences as employees or employers. Had we ever sued an employer for any reason, or been sued by an employee? Just from the questions, I figured out that the case involved an employee, a Hispanic man who looked to be in his early 30s, was suing his former employer, the owner of an auto repair shop, for overtime pay he felt was due. There must have been a lot of money involved for the case to make it to a jury trial.
The questioning took a long time. At first, the judge did all of the questioning; then, at the end, the attorneys were allowed to ask questions. For about an hour, it was sort of interesting to learn about my fellow citizens, but after a while, it just got phenomenally boring, as the judge and lawyers tried to tease out any potential bias.
Lawyer: Do you ever feel that you were treated unfairly by an employer?
Man in his 50s: Yes.
Lawyer: Could you describe your experience?
Man: When I was 16, I worked at McDonald's. They made us punch out and then keep working, off the clock. It was 1967 and there were 50 people who would have been happy to take our jobs.
Since most of the potential jurors were in their 50s and 60s, there was a lot of history to cover.
After lunch, the attorneys were allowed to start dismissing jurors they didn't want on the jury. The first person to be dismissed was a woman who, it had emerged during the questioning, had previously served on three juries. Maybe they figured she needed to catch a break for once. Then another person from the pool was selected to take her place, and had to answer all the same questions. The plaintiff's lawyer seemed quite affable, and looked a little like an older, ruddier Jason Bateman. His questions were very concise, whereas the defense lawyer, a short, balding guy, kept asking prospective jurors about their hobbies and whether or not they were involved in any civic organizations. Maybe he had done research showing that people who enjoyed square dancing and bowling were more likely to side with the plaintiff.
This went on and on and on. I tried to figure out why the lawyers were dismissing certain people. A young Indian guy in the software industry had been involved in laying people off, so the plaintiff's lawyer sent him packing. Anyone who had been in a labor union for a long period of time tended to get bumped by the defense. I assumed that I was going to wind up staying, until suddenly, around 2:30 PM, the plaintiff's lawyer dismissed me. I have no idea why. Maybe he figured that since I was a business owner, albeit a sole proprietor, my sympathies would be with the man instead of an employee. Ironically, my first impression was that the pleasant plaintiff's attorney and good-looking ex-employee were more sympathetic than the perpetually scowling defendant and his lawyer's endless questions about people's hobbies. I'm sure I could have been fair and impartial. Now, unfortunately, I'll never know what happens. Oh well; knowing my track record, I'll probably get another summons 366 days from now. |
| posted by 125records @ 10:35 AM |
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| About Me |
Name: Sue
Home: San Francisco Bay Area, California, United States
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