It's Five Miles to Chicago, We Have a Tenth of a Tank of Gas...

[captainsblog]

A hopefully perfect ending to a less-than-perfect day.

The weekend ended nicely. We scaled back the scope of the Big Dig quite a bit, and I even got in a late-day dog park trip with the dog.  She ran, she swam,



and then of course she had to dry off:)
 

Now that we're in the official Dog Days of August, that means something different at the office. Yesterday was deadly quiet- enough that I bailed after lunchtime, got in a good hour of Big Digging of Not So Much with Pepper supervising, before turning in early because of what I knew today would bring.

Some of which, it actually did.  I was already prebooked today with a 9:30 court appearance in Buffalo, a client appointment and court appearance between 12:30 and 2 in Rochester, and a town court traffic gig in an east-of-Rochester county at 4:30.  That last one got put off, but it got replaced because a co-worker was scheduled to come out to Darien Town Court for a traffic ticket for one of her clients at 4 this afternoon.

Well.  I'd been teetering about going to see one of those endless parade of Vintage 70s Supergroup Shows that come every summer to the big outdoor venues- such as the Darien Lake Performing Arts Center. The one causing the teetering was a combo pack of REO Speedwagon (who I could take or leave) and Chicago.  I've never seen the latter, even though I religiously bought all their albums from 2 (the first numbered one) to the end of the original numbered series, and even the one after that (and also after their guitarist shot himself to death and they went briefly and blindly disco in the late 70s).  Making this concert tour  special was the promised playing, in its entirety, of the "Ballet for a Girl in Buchannon," a near sidelong epic from their second album which brought their first megahit "Make Me Smile" (cut down for the single from the beginning and ending segments of the Ballet), and which also includes, in the middle, "Colour My World," aka "That Thing Which Was The Theme Of Every Prom In The Universe From 1973 To 1978."  I made a deal with the co-worker- her client's ticket basically paid for my ticket to the show, and I grabbed a lawn seat for tonight's 7:00 performance, hoping I'd get out of traffic court in time (I did) and that the rain would hold off (we'll see).

Ultimately, I wound up with plenty of time. I'm five miles up the road from the theme park in a village library (which has also graciously allowed me to change out of this stupid suit without getting arrested;) to tell these tales to the world.  My travels since those earlier court appearances have gone much better than the appearances themselves- here's how those worked out:

9:30 in Buffalo- opposing party didn't show up. No call (they actually sent me some requested documents the day before, not saying they had no intention of coming), and really no recourse for them not showing up, but try explaining that to the very annoyed clients.

12:30 client appointment- wound up closer to 1, thanks to the first one taking too long (I had to wait the full calendar to make sure they didn't show up late) and all kinds of traffic delays caused by everything from bad weather to a slow-moving freight train.  But it went okay once it went, running right into the....

1:15 court appearance- which, it turns out, was a 2:00 court appearance.  It was a mandatory conference they hold in mortgage foreclosures with a judicial officer able to force negotiations with the bank to an extent. The 45-minute difference was for legal-aidle-eagle types to explain The Process to the mostly unrepresented people at the conference.  They do that in Buffalo, too, but they TELL people, "If you have a private lawyer, show up at 2."  This kind of shit- not telling out-of-town attorneys what the nuances are- create what I refer to (and hate) as "old-boy courts."  I'm an  old boy of my own in many of them, and I never try to take advantage of a n00b or out-of-town opponent in that way.

Then it got better.

----

I had just enough time to head to my Rochester office, with a quick stop in its nearby town hall to make an art purchase:



This poster, marking the 42nd annual art festival in my original Rochester neighborhood, is the product of one of Eleanor's oldest and dearest friends Phyllis.  We hadn't seen her in awhile, and when I heard she'd been selected to do the poster for the first time, I knew we needed a copy. We now have one, autographed and waiting to be framed.

Then down the back roads to Darien Center, just east of Darien Lakes, and just down the road from Darien Lake Singular, as in the theme park and concert venue.  It went quickly and pleasantly, and I have just enough time now to change, find foodage, and get to the show. At the moment, there are no thunderclouds over Corfu on my WTF weather app for the rest of the night, but there are still some passing clouds that look occasionally nasty.

I think I'll also find some gas now, before getting out of Dodge Darien in several hours.