A Great Mind, A Giant Heart

A U of MN Law School Legend 

I just left the final class of Professor Donald Marshall. Prof. Marshall is one of the most amazingly gifted professors to have ever wandered the halls of Mondale. While I had a healthy fear of him during his Torts class my first semester of law school, he couldn’t restrain his compassion for students and his love of teaching from showing through.

Flashback late August 2003, I’m just a lowly grunt of a first year law student. A bright-eyed doe in the headlights of legal education, frozen by the immensity of it all. I enter my first Torts class sit down and soon after he walks into the room. Under one arm he carries a large piece of cardboard with a large print seating chart attached to it and his worn and tattered notebook full of the accumulated wisdom of years of legal teaching and scholarship. In the other hand, a small cup of coffee likely purchased a minute before at the vending machine. For those of you who have seen 'The Paper Chase,' he was a less vile John Houseman.

He begins class: “Everyone turn to the case of the thorns.” “What is the procedural posture?” His gaze moves from the seating chart to the room and back again. Nobody wants the first question, and even if they did, no one has any clue what a procedural posture is anyway. This was a without a doubt one of the scariest moments of my life.

But, by the end of the semester, Prof. Marshall was one of my favorite teachers of all time. Tough but fair, with an unbounded knowledge of the subject matter. A grandfatherly figure that exuded concern about the growth of the fledgling legal minds we were. Not in a condescending, or paternalistic way, but instead he played the part of a mother bird pushing us out of the nest – forcing us to test our shaky legal eagle wings.

And no one in attendance for the last class of first year torts, will ever forget the poem Prof. Marshall read. After coming back from medical health issues to teach our class, he told us at the end of that last day of class that “teaching you has been redemptive.” How could you not like the guy after he says something like that.

Prof. Marshall has also provided some unintended symmetry between my father and I. Prof. Marshall began teaching at the law school during my father’s third year of law school, and today I had the honor of witnessing Prof. Marshall’s last class. While I’m sure his first class was received with less fan-fare, it was no doubt just as enlightening.

Prof. Marshall, you will be missed.

And Now, Your Moment of Zen...

Steee-rike 

This picture currently adorns my desktop. How could this guy have been a crook? Oh the grace, the power, the sensible fashion, ... striking.

Pet Peeve #1

When cats get angry. 

There are few things that make me want to break the social code like men (and I would imagine some women) not washing their hands after using the bathroom. My inner Seinfeld takes over and my mind becomes obsessed with the fact that I’m going to have to touch the same door handle as that disgusting bastard.

So I redirect my rage. I think of creative ways of embarrassing those slobs that walk directly from the urinal to the door, without even giving the sink a second thought. If one had infinite time to waste, I would suggest following the miscreant shouting, “This guy did not wash his hands, this guy did not wash his hand after using the bathroom.” Until you either got punched, or shamed the deviant into retreating to the sink to take care of business.

I know this is an old tired complaint. But, does anyone else imagine ways of exacting social retribution on these human “disease shuttles?” Or am I just that insanely germ phobic?

Typical

Troy William-what? 

Why am I not surprized. The Minnesota Vikings, with the seventh pick in the draft…select Troy Williamson. What?! Was Mike Williams already selected? Oh no, this was just a vintage Vikings draft-day-goof-up. What Vikings fan could forget the numbskulls who were unable to get their pick in on time... twice. Or the Demitrius Underwood "experiment."

I do have to give them some credit, every other move they have made this off-season has been great. But, having said that, I will be tracking the production of Williams vis-a-vi Williamson very closely this coming year.

Message to Mike Tice: “The Viking fan collective is beginning to tie the noose, how tight it gets… that’s up to you.”

The "House" I Will Never Forget

(Disclaimer: The contents of this post should not be read immediately before, during, or after any food consumption.) (Legal disclaimer: I would not have been able to talk about this, except for the fact that a number of local news sources broke the story about two weeks ago.)

About a month ago, for some strange reason, I decided that getting a job was a good idea. A former colleague/friend of mine keyed me into an opening in the St. Paul Neighborhood Housing Property Improvement office. It sounded interesting and I figured at least I wouldn’t be billing hours this summer. So I sent the required info in and viola… I got a job.

Today was the first day where I really felt like I earned even a small portion of what they are paying me. (Which isn’t much) This was settle-in day. Everything went pretty smooth, and it will be a very interesting job. How is the job interesting you ask, I’m so glad you did.

During my training, I had about 4-5 days with my predecessor.(Mike) On day 3, I show up at the office around 8 am. I am greeted with “Field-trip.” Things are looking-up and it’s only 8 in the morning. I mean who doesn’t like leaving a florescent-bulb-lit office for the great outdoors? So Mike and I drive over to the destination around 10. The house was nothing special, looked like it needed some work, but it was in a nice neighborhood and it really didn’t stick-out. There were some children’s play-things scattered about, and the yard could’ve used a couple of weekends worth of work, but again nothing too crazy. Then we entered the house…

I wish there was some way to convey the smell that we encountered upon entering through the rear door into the kitchen, but then again maybe you’ll get a sense from the following description. Entering the kitchen, one had to immediately take a step-up onto about a foot and a half of garbage. The entire kitchen was filled with every sort of nastiness one could imagine. There was an open package of hotdogs (only missing 3), an open tipped-over jar of mayonnaise, a stove / range covered with dirty pots and pans spewing a black primordial ooze containing god knows what. It was at this point that I really wished I had had some sort of gas-mask or a self-contained breathing apparatus.

After the lovely introduction to the abode, we moved into the main living area of the first floor. Again, our feet never touched any sort of flooring. Imagine walking around your place with random garbage, clothes, etc. at about the depth of the seat of a couch. 4 TVs, were scattered about the room, some buried more than others. We turned to the stairs (Described in a Star Tribune article as a “ramp of garbage.”) carefully making our way to the second floor.

Each bedroom had between one and two “nests.” Just like the first floor, the entire surface area of the floor was filled with garbage. The beds were nothing more than islands in the sea of refuse, barely remaining a float. Fleas circled in the air above, and though unseen there was no doubt that rats scurried about below. Most disturbing of all, there was a crib in one of the rooms that was so filthy and substandard, most people would not even put their pets in it.

The only bathroom I noticed, fit right into the overall scheme of the place. For the sake of decorum I will not elaborate.

Having had the “privilege” to walk through such a shrine to all things unclean I came to a few conclusions.
1. Never underestimate the depravity of human nature.
2. I will clean my house with a smile on my face, for I have seen the “dark side.”
3. I need to thank my parents again.
4. My job, though at times nauseating, will be extremely engaging this summer.
5. Every teenaged boy should have to walk through a house like that.
6. I need to thank my parents again.

$1.99 !

I was beginning to doubt I would ever see it again. But my favorite neighborhood convenience store / gas station posted a $1.99 price for unleaded. It is great to have the cheapest gas around mere steps from my front door. Ha… beat that all-ya’all.

The Complete Beck Album

Hola, Guero! 

What can I say, I love Beck’s work. There is a Beck CD for just about any and every mood. Feeling depressed? Throw in Sea Change or Midnight Vultures and let the sweet mellow sounds surround and comfort you. Need something a little more up-tempo for your spring backyard BBQ? Then Odelay or Mellow Gold is the prescription.

While the few scattered reviews I’ve read for Guero have been less than positive, I believe that Beck has done it again and produced another CD of great music. This is by far the most balanced CD Beck has ever made. A perfect blend of all of the many musical voices that roam in his wonderfully twisted head. In listening to Guero over and over again this weekend, as I did yard work, I never felt the need to skip ahead to the next song. And for a CD to earn ‘just push play’ ability, is there any higher praise? Hell, there are a lot of my own mixed CDs that don’t even maintain that designation past a week or two. Guero is a pretty damn fine disc.

I especially like: E-pro, Que Onda Guero, Girl, and Scarecrow

The Ventura Stock Report

"The Body," no "The Brain," no wait...I got it, "The Beard."  

Jesse Ventura = enigma. There is no plausible explanation for some of his antics. The Star Tribune reported about a speech the former Gov. gave Monday night at St. Olaf College. Apparently St. Olaf paid Ventura 25k to give the speech. (This was a discount rate from his usual 50k asking price – because St. Olaf was close to home.)

So St. Olaf paid a man to speak who in the past has delivered such profound lines as: “You haven’t hunted, until you’ve hunted man.” And this same former governor tried to mandate “Media Jackal” buttons for all media persons who covered his new conferences.
Wow, what a deal. To be fair to St. Olaf, Harvard tapped Ventura to teach a political science class last year. (I still remember rubbing my eyes and verifying it elsewhere when I originally read that story.)

+ Side note, as I am typing this, my professor (Chen – for those who wander the halls of Mondale) just said, “I voted for Ventura, and wish I could have done it TWICE.” So it is clear that intelligent people are all over the map on this guy, further adding to his enigmatic status.

Ventura’s mythical stock has been up and down at various points in his public life. Here is my brief review of the ups and downs.

+ “The Body” Professional wrestler - $ 100
+ Mayor of Brooklyn Park - $ 33 (Definitely a step down from being a national figure)
+ Governor - $ 200 (Talk show circuit super-star)
+ “I want to be called ‘The Brain’” - $ 123 (Come-on are we 8, Sing-a-long everyone: “Sticks and stones…”)
+ The ‘hunting’ comment - $ 0.23 (All time low)
+ Buttons for “Media Jackals” - $ 28 (Even though Ventura showed just how sensitive he is, it was kind of funny.)
+ Making an ass of himself at a Timberwolves game - $ 2.73 (Once again proving the negative media portrayals where correct.)
+ Not running for Governor again - $ 100 (Saw the writing on the wall, finally a sign of rationality.)
+ Teaching a class at Harvard - $ 220 (Hey, it’s Harvard)
+ Getting paid 50k a speech - $ 190 (Hey, it an’nt Harvard)
+ Equating the FCC with the Nazis - $ Priceless (See below)

“The Federal Communications Commission, he said, is rolling back free speech rights in "much the same way Nazi Germany did it."” – Star Tribune

“With a black do-rag, or kerchief on his head, Ventura revealed that he did indeed get the idea for his recent "Pirates of the Caribbean"-type beard from the character Jack Sparrow played by actor Johnny Depp in the movie of that title.” – Star Tribune

Ratta-Tat-Tat...Gona' Get Me a Big Mac

McD's Goes Street 

[http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/main.jhtml;sessionid
=1RNZJASF1ILHNQFIQMFSM5OAVCBQ0JVC?xml=/news/2005/03/29/wmac29.xml&sSheet=/news/2005/03/29/
ixnewstop.html""])(Sorry about the technical difficulties, but you'll have to copy and paste the link to read the story. Or you could just type "McDonalds pays for rap" into google and you'll be able to read some version of the story.)

(McDonald's is tempting rappers to use the name Big Mac in their lyrics, it was reported yesterday.)

Oh McDonalds, you so crazy. But I guess you just trying to get a little of the dizzle, fo-sizzle.

Give me a break. I guess this kind of attempt at blatant artistic intrusion for financial gain is just what any person should expect out of McDonalds. A burger and fries joint does not become synonymous with America by being sensitive to ideals like artistic integrity. So if one can not condone Mc-i-Dee's actions, at least it is understandable from a corporate perspective. It makes sense to tap into the great urban/hip-hop/rap wave.

But woe be to those artists who choose to suck from the preverbal utter of the McDonald’s golden calf. I can almost hear it now, “Here on KDWB, we’ve got the newest single by ‘Fitty-Cent.’ This blazing hot single is off his new album ‘An’t Nothing But a M-thing, Baby.’ Turn up your radios for ‘Ratta-tat-tat… Gona’ Get Me a Big Mac.”