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captainsblogII items of note involving the Eternal City.
The first refers more to an Infernal City- Rome, New York, which is the site of one of only two court appearances I've got all week (compared to the five I had scheduled last week plus a major closing plus major conference calls etc. etc. etc.). It's a pro se defendant, whose only defense is really "I can't pay and I want you to assign me a lawyer." Well, civil defendants don't get that benefit, but the judge did give her until this Thursday to hire one herself- and he mandated that we both appear there that morning.
So I'm outta here either Wednesday afternoon for an overnight or at ass-crack Thursday- now with a stop in Syracuse on the way back.
----
Far more pleasant Rome-y-ness comes from my having just begun The Silver Pigs, first (I think) in the Marcus Didius Falco series of ancient Roman detective novels featuring that particular private dickus.
I opened it to find maps and long lists of dramatis personae, and wondered what I was getting into. Quickly, the answer came: marvelous fun, that's what. It's a cross so far between a modern police procedural, Terry Pratchett anachronistic fun-making, and of course a little Ovid. (The poet, not the Finger Lakes town, or the chickens.)
I just finished Part I of Book I, where the protagonist meets a fate worse than the murder, beatings and pisspots he's had to deal with up to this point: he's sent to Britain.
Part II begins:
If you ever want to go there, I advise you not to bother.
Yeah. I'm in.
The first refers more to an Infernal City- Rome, New York, which is the site of one of only two court appearances I've got all week (compared to the five I had scheduled last week plus a major closing plus major conference calls etc. etc. etc.). It's a pro se defendant, whose only defense is really "I can't pay and I want you to assign me a lawyer." Well, civil defendants don't get that benefit, but the judge did give her until this Thursday to hire one herself- and he mandated that we both appear there that morning.
So I'm outta here either Wednesday afternoon for an overnight or at ass-crack Thursday- now with a stop in Syracuse on the way back.
----
Far more pleasant Rome-y-ness comes from my having just begun The Silver Pigs, first (I think) in the Marcus Didius Falco series of ancient Roman detective novels featuring that particular private dickus.
I opened it to find maps and long lists of dramatis personae, and wondered what I was getting into. Quickly, the answer came: marvelous fun, that's what. It's a cross so far between a modern police procedural, Terry Pratchett anachronistic fun-making, and of course a little Ovid. (The poet, not the Finger Lakes town, or the chickens.)
I just finished Part I of Book I, where the protagonist meets a fate worse than the murder, beatings and pisspots he's had to deal with up to this point: he's sent to Britain.
Part II begins:
If you ever want to go there, I advise you not to bother.
Yeah. I'm in.