So the trial mercifully ended Friday, and I got the "restorative justice" the newfangled experts all say we should seek. The defense rested, and the Judge asked if he could question Fredo, who was on Zoom. Our lawyer agreed, if he could cross examine anything he said, but his own group objected "Well -- since we're not calling him, cross would be improper." The Judge was annoyed, but said forget it -- I don't need to talk to the guy, and he took a break. And then came my restorative justice.
Fredo was on Zoom, and Saul Goodman, his former boss, smarmily asked why we didn't want the Judge to question him. I responded that since the guy was such a liar and fraud, we couldn't just let him speak without challenge. Saul said "Well those are strong words." And I responded: "Saul -- we admit we screwed up in trusting Fredo. Look where we are because of what a POS he is. We admit it. You FIRED his ass in March of '20, as I knew you would -- so why don't you just admit he Bernie Madoffed you, too?"
Saul stiffened, as much as a 75 year old looking like he's rapidly nearing death can stiffen. "David -- how about you just don't talk to me anymore." I said fine, and clearly "I guess I struck a nerve."
Again -- more sound and fury signifying...nothing.
After we were done, Paul, Stu, Scott and I retired to Novokov, a VERY expensive Russian/sushi spot on Biscayne. We drank martinis, ate delicious sushi and peking duck and other delicacies, and talked about life. It was terrific. I often truly do prefer the company of men.
And as I reflected over the past week, it came again into very clear focus. I never liked being a lawyer, I did it full time for 20 years to earn a very nice living to support my family, more successfully than I ever could have dreamed -- but it ain't me, babe. It ain't been me, babe, for quite awhile. If I never step foot into another courtroom in my life, it'll be just fine with me.
Also -- it was striking to me how empty the place, and surrounding streets, were. This Zoom thing really caught on. There were zero waits for the elevator. The Italian iteration of Sally Russell's, the famous restaurant and bar where ALL the trial lawyers ate and drank, is shuttered.
The plan is they're building a new high rise courthouse, and selling the 1926 model for a developer to turn it into a hotel or condos.
Seems to me this is a huge waste. Zoom has shown us we don't really need major couthouse facilities anymore. But too much money has already been spent, on lobbying and such -- and we'll be left with a new huge building that I predict will be seriously under utilized. Whatever.
Yesterday, D2 dropped off the enormous puppy, for a several night stay while she and Jonathan attend a wedding in Boca. Today D1 and her family are coming for lunch, and to drop the elderly spoiled Spaniel to stay while they visit Joey's native city, Bogota. The toddler is MUY excited -- to go on his first "Avion" to see his "primas."
We'll have the "House of Misfit Dogs," as Jonathan has described it -- Bo, who walks like a raccoon, and Vienna, who appears built out of spare parts of other dogs.
As I drank my morning coffee today, I caught up and "unpacked" with Dr. Barry. I love these new uses for words -- like "triggering." He was on service in the Peds ICE last week -- really no place for a nearing 60 year old doctor. We compared notes on our lives -- something new to us. We've only been doing this since 1980.
And I concluded, for whatever reason, the Big Man has placed me in the happiest time of my life. By far. To talk like my brother Paul, I know who I am. I know who I am NOT.
I know myself better than ever -- with great clarity. If I saw a therapist -- I would explain to THEM how to improve their lives.
No doubt fate will throw some more curveballs, changeups, and sinkers. And that's ok. But to the extent I can control things, I plan on the simple wisdom of surrounding myself with only the good, the happy, the positive. Those bringing tensosity need not apply to be anywhere near me.
And I plan to stay out of court...
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