His soft, brown eyes
Flecked with gold
Framed in velveteen.
He watches my every move
With anticipation.
I roll over in bed with sleepy eyes
To find his chin resting on the edge of my bed
Greeting my face with a lap at my cheek
Waiting for me to say the word.
I am everything to him,
Unconditional love and devotion.
Uncontrollable loyalty.
The hairs on his chin twitch.
He looks at me with an understanding
That spans his existence.
Whether I awake from a bad dream in a cold sweat,
His love is always there.
Waiting with his warm, soft, pink tongue,
Ready to flick it across my cheek with an affectionate kiss.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Greatness
It is not appropriate to measure one’s greatness
By evaluating one’s morality.
By assessing his adherence to certain religious beliefs
Or to experience his talents or personal strengths.
We are not obligated to judge his passions
We simply ask “is one better off to have known this man?”
And, then and only then if the answer is a resounding “yes”
Do we know the answer to our question of greatness.
For a man’s greatness is only measured
By whether those touched
Are better off to have known him at all.
My father was an imperfect man.
He had his faults and made poor choices.
But he was truly a great man,
For I have never met a person whose life was not made better
By simply having known my father.
By evaluating one’s morality.
By assessing his adherence to certain religious beliefs
Or to experience his talents or personal strengths.
We are not obligated to judge his passions
We simply ask “is one better off to have known this man?”
And, then and only then if the answer is a resounding “yes”
Do we know the answer to our question of greatness.
For a man’s greatness is only measured
By whether those touched
Are better off to have known him at all.
My father was an imperfect man.
He had his faults and made poor choices.
But he was truly a great man,
For I have never met a person whose life was not made better
By simply having known my father.
Surfer Boy
Billabong shorts riding low on his hips
A green Heineken bottle in one hand
He grabs his board from the back of his rusted Toyota pickup truck
And heads to the shore.
The rhythm of reggae music bumps from his FM radio.
His toes meet the sea foam and
He gazes out over the break
As a ship’s captain would watch the sea.
He turns north and feels the gentle trades
Brush the locks of curls resting on the nape of his neck.
He anticipates catching that perfect set
While the sun prances across the water.
Rising up and then easing down
The face of perfect turquoise
With a dust ruffle of white bubbles
He doesn’t falter
Paddling back out into the vast blue
He contemplates perfection
And realizes that this life he lives is all he needs to
Make him whole.
A green Heineken bottle in one hand
He grabs his board from the back of his rusted Toyota pickup truck
And heads to the shore.
The rhythm of reggae music bumps from his FM radio.
His toes meet the sea foam and
He gazes out over the break
As a ship’s captain would watch the sea.
He turns north and feels the gentle trades
Brush the locks of curls resting on the nape of his neck.
He anticipates catching that perfect set
While the sun prances across the water.
Rising up and then easing down
The face of perfect turquoise
With a dust ruffle of white bubbles
He doesn’t falter
Paddling back out into the vast blue
He contemplates perfection
And realizes that this life he lives is all he needs to
Make him whole.
Jennifer Dies in Jail
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.
Alone, cold and afraid.
Lying on a two-inch foam pad covered in plastic
Smelling of urine, sweat, vomit and feces.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.
The concrete floor radiates cold, gray nothingness
Up through the pad and presses against my warm cheek.
I can’t lift my head nor move my arms.
My head pounds and my heart races.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.
My screams burn in my throat, but I can’t speak.
I try to call out, but my lips won’t form the words.
Why doesn’t anyone come?
Please don’t leave me here.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.
I’m a mother, a daughter.
I have loved and I have been loved.
I matter.
Don’t just leave me here.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.
My lungs are heavy and I am tired.
Sleep beckons to me in the dark.
A single, bright bulb burns above me,
Glaring at me like a judgmental guard.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.
My body dissolves and becomes part of the concrete below me.
Movement is beyond reach
I feel the light slowly extinguish
Darkness swirls into the cell like rolling waves of smoke.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.
I awake, but instead of lying helpless
I look down on myself
From outside the poisoned body full of liquor and pills
A stranger now…who is that person lying on the floor.
It’s me.
I abandon my body like a hermit crab moves out of his shell
The pain is gone, as is the cold and dark.
I look to my left and I see it!
The most beautiful, brilliant, warm light.
Its outstretched arms glisten in beams of absolute perfection and splendor.
The love of every mother for her daughter
Welcomes me into its embrace.
Love, Light and Beauty.
And to my daughter, I say, “Please forgive me.”
Alone, cold and afraid.
Lying on a two-inch foam pad covered in plastic
Smelling of urine, sweat, vomit and feces.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.
The concrete floor radiates cold, gray nothingness
Up through the pad and presses against my warm cheek.
I can’t lift my head nor move my arms.
My head pounds and my heart races.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.
My screams burn in my throat, but I can’t speak.
I try to call out, but my lips won’t form the words.
Why doesn’t anyone come?
Please don’t leave me here.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.
I’m a mother, a daughter.
I have loved and I have been loved.
I matter.
Don’t just leave me here.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.
My lungs are heavy and I am tired.
Sleep beckons to me in the dark.
A single, bright bulb burns above me,
Glaring at me like a judgmental guard.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.
My body dissolves and becomes part of the concrete below me.
Movement is beyond reach
I feel the light slowly extinguish
Darkness swirls into the cell like rolling waves of smoke.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.
I awake, but instead of lying helpless
I look down on myself
From outside the poisoned body full of liquor and pills
A stranger now…who is that person lying on the floor.
It’s me.
I abandon my body like a hermit crab moves out of his shell
The pain is gone, as is the cold and dark.
I look to my left and I see it!
The most beautiful, brilliant, warm light.
Its outstretched arms glisten in beams of absolute perfection and splendor.
The love of every mother for her daughter
Welcomes me into its embrace.
Love, Light and Beauty.
And to my daughter, I say, “Please forgive me.”
Monday, February 2, 2009
MY RESPECTABLE DAY JOB!
Six months after landing in Las Vegas, Nevada and not knowing a thing about the local legal community, I was hired by the law firm of Patti, Sgro & Lewis, (a small law firm whose claim to fame was defending Las Vegas local mobster, Rick Rizzolo and his entourage of Soprano wannabes). Within a few months of working there, I realized it was not the place for me. Luckily, my knight in shining armor galloped up to me in the form of the law firm of Lewis and Roca, LLP who hired me six weeks ago. I often get asked how I like the new job by friends, family members as well as former and present co-workers. So, I thought I would take a few minutes to respond here on my blog.
YOU DO THE MATH! I went from an office of 8 lawyers and 12 staffers, to a firm made up of over 205 lawyers throughout seven western cities – Albuquerque, Tucson, Las Vegas, Minden, Reno, Carson City and Phoenix. Lewis and Roca is ranked first in the United States in the following areas of practice: Gaming, Administrative and Information Technology, Land Use and Zoning, Mass Tort Litigation, Real Estate Law, Appellate and Information Technology and Communications Law. As a former criminal justice student (B.A. Justice, 1995, Univ. of AK Anchorage), I studied criminal procedure (including Miranda v. Arizona, 384, U.S. 436 (1966). Can you imagine how I felt when I found out after joining Lewis and Roca, that Lewis & Roca attorneys Peter Baird and John P. Frank (among others) represented Ernesto Miranda in the case which gave rise to what we all know to be our “Miranda Rights.”
A little more digging revealed some other astonishing accomplishments for the firm. Orme Lewis, co-founder of Lewis and Roca, served as Assistant Secretary to the Interior under President Eisenhower in 1953. Mr. Lewis was a well-respected art collector, owning works from Antoni Tapies, Sam Francis, Woodward Payne, Philip Curtis and Alexander Calder. The Phoenix Art Museum eventually bestowed a gallery in Mr. Lewis’ name.
In 1967 (coincidentally the year I was born), Lewis and Roca hired its first woman attorney and ten years later, promoted the first female partner of a large law firm in the Western United states. In 1979, that same woman partner left the firm to join the Arizona Court of Appeals, eventually becoming appointed Chief Justice of the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals.
In 1984, Janet Napolitano joined Lewis and Roca, becoming a partner with the firm five years later. Most remember that Ms. Napolitano was Anita Hill’s attorney while Ms. Hill testified before the Senate at the racey Clarence Thomas’ confirmation hearings in 1991. In 1998, Ms. Napolitano was appointed U.S. Attorney for Arizona and in 1998, was elected Attorney General of Arizona. In 2003, she was elected as Arizona’s 21st Governor. President Obama recently appointed Ms. Napolitano as head of the United States Department of Homeland Security.
Joining Lewis and Roca brought me a $16,000 raise in my annual salary with a full array of benefits including medical, dental, vision, life, disability, and pet insurance and a lucrative 401(k) plan and amazing pension plan. Lewis and Roca also provides me with the opportunity to travel for work and with top of the line techonology. I mustn't forget to mention how thrilled I am to have my own secretary – Cat.
I still work in the area of civil litigation, however, the difference is that I am now a member of the Commercial Litigation Practice Group of Lewis and Roca and doing much more defense work.
Another notable change -- my office no longer is on the second floor of the same building occupied by the Southern Nevada Adult Mental Health Services, on the corner of 7th and Gass, near Fremont Street in downtown Las Vegas; but instead you can now find me on the 6th Floor of 3993 Howard Hughes Parkway, where palm trees, and not yellow crime tape, line the driveways of this premier 60-acre business center nestled between Paradise and Koval Lane (just east of the Strip) and Flamingo and Sands. I now park in a secured parking structure and not in between sleeping homeless people who like to use the elevator as a urinal.
Yes, I have to admit – my professional life is good, and believe me – I realize how fortunate I am to have landed this opportunity in a city where the unemployment rate during the month I was hired was 9.4%!
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