I read the first 21 pages of St Eve’s charge to the jury in the Black mail and wire fraud trial. What I read was really interesting, although being bird witted I ran out of steam and decided even if I hadn’t read the whole thing it was worth posting the link.
Scroll down until you hit the “Read the instructions to the jury” link.
Katie’s principal read out loud at the graduation that “Katie hopes that her grandparents are proud of her.” I’d say bursting with pride about covers it. Purpose sure is an amazing school.
I don’t have pics because Katie danced off with her camera and Paul drove her home. It was an exceedingly pleasant and low key event. All the speeches were terse, whether off the cuff or scripted, the mike got handed round the room, and of course, the piece de resistance was the two musical teachers singing a Grad Parody of Man of Constant Sorrow, as sung in O Brother Where Art Thou.
Meshugas after I got home – the front door exit lever was broken. You could open it from the outside with the pass card but not from the inside with the lever. This freaked the hell out of Katie, Paul and Suzanne; Paul’s comment was that it was a fire hazard and needed to be corrected immediately. I had already stuck the after hours emergency number in my cell phone… so I left a message and by the time the folks left the door had been fixed. I may have had nothing to do with it but it certainly argues that the building is being properly maintained.
Oh, also pOp you should be hearing from Katie shortly, something about the Spike Jones and the City Slickers tape being trashed and how much she would really appreciate another one. I found some on the internet and Katie got all gooey eyed about it.
Gosh, you should have seen her, a vision in Gothic Black. Dax looked sharp too. I would have killed to have worn the shoes Suzanne did; extra high topped black and white sneakers with gel insoles. yowza. The venue was STUNNING, the mood electrically happy but mellow, the food rocked and did I mention the speeches were short? All in all a truly successful evening. Then we came back here and some of us drank beer (that would be me and Paul) and some of us drank Baja Rosa (that would be Katie, who was showing signs of snogging the entire thing, and Suzanne and Dax). And we listened to Man of Constant Sorrow from the soundtrack, and Bob Dylan, and Mika, and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs ang Peggy Lee and Spike Jones and we watched the Triumph motorcycle ad. I mean, gather round the fire, folks.
Did I mention my bundle buggy spectacularly exploded as I was exiting the 135 bus at Hastings and Willingdon today? I got down on my hands and knees and grabbed all the washers and the spring, which had sproinged, as springs do, and then spent an unhappy five minutes crawling about on the sidewalk jamming it back together and wishing I had some lockwire. (Subsequent analysis by Paul caused him to exclaim that I should have asked for the fat stuff, not the skinny lockwire, and subsequent subsequent analysis caused him to say it really needed a cotter pin anyways.) We only had three feet of the skinny stuff, which isn’t enough for otherwise stabilizing it. I will have to get by without it for a while, I sure don’t want to go through that again although I did keep my head at the time and actually did a quick count on the other side to make sure I had all the washers. Do I sound absurdly proud of myself? Good.
I got a picture of Daxus wearing my fake snake coat. He’s standing under an exit sign. V. cute.