Shootin' the Breeze

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Archive for the tag “lawyer”

The Path to Contentment

My wife has been holding me back from realizing my full potential.  Again.

You might recall reading in another post how she failed to show the proper enthusiasm for my plan to be a professional gambler.  Well, she is at it again.

“Sugar,” I said, “I have been reading some self-improvement literature that has inspired me to become whatever I desire to become, with no limitations.  I read that sometimes a person needs to quit his or her job and thus be free to explore.  Free to be me. ”

“I thought being a lawyer was your vocational goal that, by the way, you were allowed to achieve.  Wasn’t that your ‘whatever I desire to become’?”

“Yes.  It used to be, among other things, such as my NFL career, but I have been a lawyer for a pretty long time and I like to change jobs every thirty years or so, you know, just to stay fresh.”

“So what is your alternate plan now that you were not drafted by an NFL team? Again.”

“For your information, I am still available as a free agent.  Me and Tim Tebow and a lot of good players are free agents.  I am what is known as an undrafted free agent.”

“Yes, I have heard you explain that many times over many years.  It is very impressive indeed, but maybe, after thirty years, you should replace that goal of playing in the NFL.  If you quit practicing law, what are you going to do while awaiting that call from an NFL team?  Maybe it isn’t in the cards, even for a perfect physical specimen such as you are.  Maybe God knows that it would not be fair to the other guys on the field.”

“I was thinking of being an astronaut or something cool like that, provided NASA agrees to call forwarding of NFL calls.”

“Wouldn’t motion sickness be a drawback?”  Sugar can be very direct.  It is not an attractive quality.

“Hey, the Mind Eraser at the amusement park does not count. It is way worse than a simple spacecraft.”

“Well, maybe you should go back to your earliest inner and outer self-identity.  You know, feeling free to be the real you.  Look inside the essence of your being.  What are your first memories?  How did you see yourself at age two?  At age four?  At age twelve?  Sixteen? What was your passion then, when you had no responsibilities?  What made you truly happy?”

“Being a cowboy!”

“Exactly.  That is who you are.”

I saw her point. ” So you are saying that I should be a Cowboy-Astronaut?  When I am not on a space mission, I could record country songs and rodeo a little.”

“I was thinking Cowboy Lawyer.  We do live on a ranch.  You could ride horses in your spare time, when you are not going to your law office or court.  How does that sound?”

“Sugar, that is a perfect idea.  I am glad we had this talk.  That sounds like a satisfying life.  I will give it a whirl.  You are an excellent vocational counselor.  Thanks for providing clarity.”

Nevertheless, if the Broncos need me, I have to be flexible about re-arranging my vocational status.

Where the Buffalo(es) Roam

For those of you who did not read my blog yesterday, Bison Bob, please do so as a prerequisite for reading this.  I’d hate to have anyone fall behind the rest of the class.

First, the well-known song, Home, Home on the Range, includes the phrase “where the buffalo roam.”  I need some help here.  Is the plural of buffalo buffaloes?  Or is it plain old buffalo?  Maybe we should use bison because I believe the answer to that is bison, not bisons.  Nevertheless, since whoever, I mean whomever wrote the song said “where the buffalo roam” in the plural sense, I should shut up, as was frequently suggested to me by my sixth grade teacher, Mrs. Platz, who assigned me a special desk in the hall.  (I like to think that I was allowed the privilege of leaving the classroom to sit in my special desk in the hall so the other children would not bother me as I diligently prepared my schoolwork.)  It was Mrs. Platz who pointed out to me with exquisite sensitivity that I don’t know much about proper grammar or many other things.   So I’m probably wrong about saying buffaloes, but I don’t plan to change.

It was Mrs. Platz who picked my career for me.  I felt compelled to stick up for the downtrodden.  When she was picking on one of my classmates, which was often, I would advocate for the student.  For example, if she said, “Gary, didn’t I tell you to stay in your seat?”  I might chime in, “Mrs. Platz, you didn’t say we couldn’t sharpen our pencils and Gary here was fixin to sharpen his so he could do his work better and you could read it more easily.”  Then she would say, “Look you little smart aleck, go out in the hall to your desk and stay out of this classroom.”  In that way, Gary was off the hook and grateful to me.  So when it came time to elect president of the class, yours truly was picked for the job by those indebted to me for protecting them from old Fat Platz.  Well, like I said, Mrs. P picked my career.  Actually, she just predicted it.  I went to her retirement reception at Minne Lusa Elementary School and she politely feigned interest in what I was doing at that point.  I told her that I was in law school.  She was not surprised.  “I figgered you for a lawyer,” she said.  She said it in a way that I didn’t feel proud.  It was an accusation.  Still, she seemed real sincere.  She said she knew that would happen and she was right.

So let’s get back to buffalo(es).   Where my trophy wife, Miss Sugar, and I live, the pasture is full of Buffalo Grass.  I believe it has been there since God put it there.  We don’t have buffalo(es), but other livestock eats it too.  However, this is an area where buffalo(es) used to roam and Indians, now known as Native Americans, used to hunt them.  There are teepee rings about two miles from our place because, back in them days, Indians set up their summer encampment right in our neighborhood.  The teepee rings are rocks arranged in a circle to hold down the bottom edges of the teepees.  Some folks spell it tipi, but I doubt them buffalo hunting Indians spelled it at all.  

There are other signs left from those encampments.  There are old fire pits ringed with rocks.  Fortunately, here in the Rocky Mountains there are plenty of rocks readily available for such purposes.

Back to buffalo(es), I can tell you another interesting historical fact about them.  There is a “buffalo jump” on the Roberts Ranch.  The buffalo jump is a cliff over which the Indians stampeded a herd.  Don’t tell PETA or the Humane Society, but the buffalo(es) were killed in that manner.  There are old bones at the bottom of the cliff.  Mr. Roberts gives a good tour for the school kids at Livermore Elementary School. 

The buffalo do not roam freely anymore, but at Park Creek Ranch, they have those heifers fenced in.  I like looking at them.  Still, I hesitate to herd them and I sure would not want to run them off a cliff.

That’s about all I’m gonna write today.  Tomorrow I plan to write about “Where the Deer and the Antelope Play.”

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