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Light Weeding Material
Apr. 22nd, 2022 02:22 pmFirst, a brief rundown of how the workweek's gone: A lot of people are off this week for spring break, so I've only had a couple of scheduled hearings by phone. Each had its moments unrelated to the substance itself- at least to the legal substance.
Monday, my matter was unremarkable, but a case ahead of me rang a bell. The name of another attorney's client might have been one from Eleanor's past: not "John Smith" common, but enough to make me want to check. Sure enough, dude has been in a Chapter 13 since 2019. Dude is also running the same company he hired Eleanor for, to take on a stressful sales job, not long after we moved here, and he unceremoniously fired her before she had a chance to work her way into it. I occasionally think of him because a friend has an office in a building he was based out of lo those almost 30 years ago. Now, though, I got to watch as a leasing company took away his ride. I have no words for this- but the Germans do. Thirteen letters, beginning with S.
The same client had another hearing today, but I knew that would be put off as a result of Monday's proceedings, and it was. That left only an adjourned hearing in Rochester yesterday, which I'd hoped would be canceled, and it was. But only after I'd driven all the way there. But I had another client appointment, which wound up also getting canceled. I finally made the best of it by catching one other client before I left town, filing and researching a couple of court things, and visiting my two favorite record shops on the planet. I'll get back to those goodies after the work wrapup.
The only other work thing of significance was filing a document for a client named Roach. On 4/20. Write your own joke.
----
Bronzini-ty the Mystery Cat remains at large, but not without continuing to annoy us. We moved the trap into the garage and loaded it up with fresh rotisserie chicken. The first night, it was untouched, but he decided to march into the garage and prance all over the cars:
When I got home later, I planned on restocking the chicken but also leaving out some of the sardines from earlier in the week. No sign of the tin, although Eleanor was sure she'd seen it in the fridge during the day. How can you lose a tin of sardines? Answer: you can’t. HE found them out in the yard, where apparently I'd left them during some restocking of supplies.
I left fairly early and was gone almost all day yesterday on my Caravan of Broken Appointments, and there were no further pawprints to be seen. Eleanor duly restocked the chicken at the back of the trap in hopes of enticing him. Well, she enticed somebody - or something- because the food was gone when I went out this morning. So either Bronzini's doing a re-enactment of the heist scene from Charlie's Angels where they get past the motion detectors, or he's got a mouse in service to him in hauling the food out.
We're now thinking about redoing the MISSING posters by adding a word I'd hoped wouldn't be needed: REWARD. It's not that we're too cheap to offer one. I just hate to think we'd get a result from someone only motivated by money to help out.
----
In addition to the canceled appointments yesterday, I detoured through Niagara County to research a judgment for a client, and had time, just after arriving in and then just before leaving Rochester, to make stops at record stores I've loved for ages. Record Archive is my usual go-to, for used CDs, goofy gifts, and materials from local artists. I had two things to score, and found them both:
On the right, the most famed of albums from the dear departed Harry Nillson. Beloved by Beatles, sampled in everything from weird cartoons to 70s car commercials, Harry's been top-of-mind of late because the first cut on Nillson Schmillson was used, and used, and used again in the first series of Natasha Lyonne's Russian Doll series on Netflix. It reminded me I'd never picked up any of his music, and hearing the rest of the album serves as something of a chaser from "Gotta Get Up."
(I'll eventually get to mentioning more about the second season that just dropped, fittingly enough, on 4/20 and which we binged all seven episodes of over two nights. It's one I could easily spoil and want to watch again before even trying to digest everything with or without spoilers.)
As for Danielle on the left, well, she's just awesome. Monroe County public defender by day, soulful chanetuse in her night gig. That's her EP from 2016. When I ripped it into iTunes to put it on my phone, it catalogued her as "country-folk." Mmmmmokay, then.
I finished all my other things a bit early for the one client I actually got to see yesterday, and his office is a mere block or so away from one of Rochester's other legendary music joints, the Bop Shop. They don't have much in the way of new material except for some local artists, and most of that is on vinyl, but I went in for the sheer entertainment value of checking out the mondo bizarro world of a used record section that they used to call their "Why'd They Bother Bin." It's now called "Incredibly Strange." Just a couple of what was in there yesterday:
These are the type of albums that used to figure heavily into the "Dave's Record Collection" segments on both incarnations of Letterman. One of his former staff writers has made a passion out of checking out one feature of this genre- the industrial musical. The Bop Shop didn't have any in stock, but Xerox definitely put on these shows in its Rochester-based heyday, and I bet Kodak did, too. It's immortalized on Netflix in a documentary called Bathtubs over Broadway, and my only regret is it's now two days too late for you to watch it on 4/20.
Monday, my matter was unremarkable, but a case ahead of me rang a bell. The name of another attorney's client might have been one from Eleanor's past: not "John Smith" common, but enough to make me want to check. Sure enough, dude has been in a Chapter 13 since 2019. Dude is also running the same company he hired Eleanor for, to take on a stressful sales job, not long after we moved here, and he unceremoniously fired her before she had a chance to work her way into it. I occasionally think of him because a friend has an office in a building he was based out of lo those almost 30 years ago. Now, though, I got to watch as a leasing company took away his ride. I have no words for this- but the Germans do. Thirteen letters, beginning with S.
The same client had another hearing today, but I knew that would be put off as a result of Monday's proceedings, and it was. That left only an adjourned hearing in Rochester yesterday, which I'd hoped would be canceled, and it was. But only after I'd driven all the way there. But I had another client appointment, which wound up also getting canceled. I finally made the best of it by catching one other client before I left town, filing and researching a couple of court things, and visiting my two favorite record shops on the planet. I'll get back to those goodies after the work wrapup.
The only other work thing of significance was filing a document for a client named Roach. On 4/20. Write your own joke.
----
Bronzini-ty the Mystery Cat remains at large, but not without continuing to annoy us. We moved the trap into the garage and loaded it up with fresh rotisserie chicken. The first night, it was untouched, but he decided to march into the garage and prance all over the cars:
When I got home later, I planned on restocking the chicken but also leaving out some of the sardines from earlier in the week. No sign of the tin, although Eleanor was sure she'd seen it in the fridge during the day. How can you lose a tin of sardines? Answer: you can’t. HE found them out in the yard, where apparently I'd left them during some restocking of supplies.
I left fairly early and was gone almost all day yesterday on my Caravan of Broken Appointments, and there were no further pawprints to be seen. Eleanor duly restocked the chicken at the back of the trap in hopes of enticing him. Well, she enticed somebody - or something- because the food was gone when I went out this morning. So either Bronzini's doing a re-enactment of the heist scene from Charlie's Angels where they get past the motion detectors, or he's got a mouse in service to him in hauling the food out.
We're now thinking about redoing the MISSING posters by adding a word I'd hoped wouldn't be needed: REWARD. It's not that we're too cheap to offer one. I just hate to think we'd get a result from someone only motivated by money to help out.
----
In addition to the canceled appointments yesterday, I detoured through Niagara County to research a judgment for a client, and had time, just after arriving in and then just before leaving Rochester, to make stops at record stores I've loved for ages. Record Archive is my usual go-to, for used CDs, goofy gifts, and materials from local artists. I had two things to score, and found them both:
On the right, the most famed of albums from the dear departed Harry Nillson. Beloved by Beatles, sampled in everything from weird cartoons to 70s car commercials, Harry's been top-of-mind of late because the first cut on Nillson Schmillson was used, and used, and used again in the first series of Natasha Lyonne's Russian Doll series on Netflix. It reminded me I'd never picked up any of his music, and hearing the rest of the album serves as something of a chaser from "Gotta Get Up."
(I'll eventually get to mentioning more about the second season that just dropped, fittingly enough, on 4/20 and which we binged all seven episodes of over two nights. It's one I could easily spoil and want to watch again before even trying to digest everything with or without spoilers.)
As for Danielle on the left, well, she's just awesome. Monroe County public defender by day, soulful chanetuse in her night gig. That's her EP from 2016. When I ripped it into iTunes to put it on my phone, it catalogued her as "country-folk." Mmmmmokay, then.
I finished all my other things a bit early for the one client I actually got to see yesterday, and his office is a mere block or so away from one of Rochester's other legendary music joints, the Bop Shop. They don't have much in the way of new material except for some local artists, and most of that is on vinyl, but I went in for the sheer entertainment value of checking out the mondo bizarro world of a used record section that they used to call their "Why'd They Bother Bin." It's now called "Incredibly Strange." Just a couple of what was in there yesterday:
These are the type of albums that used to figure heavily into the "Dave's Record Collection" segments on both incarnations of Letterman. One of his former staff writers has made a passion out of checking out one feature of this genre- the industrial musical. The Bop Shop didn't have any in stock, but Xerox definitely put on these shows in its Rochester-based heyday, and I bet Kodak did, too. It's immortalized on Netflix in a documentary called Bathtubs over Broadway, and my only regret is it's now two days too late for you to watch it on 4/20.