Quote of the Day:
“Mr. Fox: [sighs] Who am I, Kylie?
Kylie: Who how? What now?
Mr. Fox: Why a fox? Why not a horse, or a beetle, or a bald eagle? I’m saying this more as, like, existentialism, you know? Who am I? And how can a fox ever be happy without, you’ll forgive the expression, a chicken in its teeth?
Kylie: I don’t know what you’re talking about, but it sounds illegal.
–The Fantastic Mr. Fox
Any lawyer with an intact, or even yet functioning soul will freely tell you they dream of chucking it all, starting over and leaving “the law” behind forever. For some, the urge is only occasional, for many others it is a drumbeat waxing and waning in urgency, but constantly rising in overall intensity.
The last several years have been tough on TB, the lawyer, not so much in my day to day output or results, but in factors beyond my control ranging from the surreal to the sinister to the sickening–politics, corruption and sometimes just bad luck. Suffice it to say, while I still believe the system is necessary, and even that there is no better alternative, the American justice system is a damn mess. And hey, I just settled a big case, so I say this at a time when the coffers are stocked.
But this post is not about that. Maybe some day I will compile the bloody timeline of my gradual disillusionment with the legal business. Probably not. But maybe. No, TB, believe it or not is an optimist. I look forward always to better days. I cannot ignore what I see, much as I would like, and I cannot deny that I am burdened by that which I cannot ignore. Nonetheless, as an optimist at heart, beneath the layers of cynicism, the strata of distrust and disgust and disdain, lies the forever young and hopeful engine of my soul, churning out hope that somehow always manages to seep up to the surface.
Today a conversation with The Daily Wit indirectly created a fissure for those rays of hope to rush out in a flurry. As we finished our discussion I suddenly thought, “I can do lots of things. If I chucked it all today, me and mine, we’d be just fine.”
Why, I still know how to throw a helluva knuckleball and not many people can do that. I could become an instructor in the dark art.
Many of you have never met Vacationbaen. Well, I’ll have you know there are probably less than a dozen travellers in the universe who have more fun on a trip than moi. I could hire myself out as a trip companion; people would pay me to summer in the Pyrenees with them, right?
Lots of companies are probably looking for someone who can turn a pleasant pun. They probably pay well too. And just wait ’til they find out I’m pretty good at trivia–that’s not even on my (current) resume. Nor is my propensity for delivering the occasional bon mot, merci beaucoup. Which reminds me of my culture. (Came back negative.) (ba-dum-dum).
Perhaps I could make money with a secret recipe I’ve carried with me since childhood–Ben and Jerry’s could make an ice cream flavor with it, Nabisco could do a snack product, or maybe some swanky New York eatery could use it to replace Krispy Kremes on their dessert menu ’cause that fad is long dead. It’s so simple, just get some club crackers, slather on some peanut butter, top with marshmallows and toast under the broiler. Sublime.
Oh, and that reminds me of how good I am at keeping secrets. I could set up an office on Capitol Hill and consult on keeping, shall we say, matters of delicacy, off the internet for our political elites. Note how I phrased that sentence so as to convey the immense delicacy with which I would treat such matters. Not everyone knows how to put “shall we say” in a sentence. Also note how I tactfully repressed the urge to (cough) insert a pun there. It was hard. I just don’t believe in hot doggin’.
So, yeah. I can do lots of things. Just thinking about them sort of makes me feel a little better. Nice to know I have options. Just in case I decide to chuck it all.