Justice Delayed

 So we completed the annoying hearing on the matter of Fredo stealing a case from us nearly 2 months ago. The judge, who a friend who really knows the guy said, is one of those fellows who thinks he's much smarter than he really is. He was affable and respectful enough, but as the hearing went on, it was clear he wasn't grasping the many of the fairly arcane legal arguments.

For me, the worst part of the ordeal was having to squeeze into my suit and wear a tie for three days. I don't like dressing up anymore.

Well, yesterday the order came in, and, as Larry David said, "Eh." We were awarded twice what the  defense expert testified we should get, but far less than we had hoped. As I read through the Order, it became clear to me: we were awarded nothing for the time Fredo spent working on the case under our direction -- and that part of the earned fee went to Saul Goodman as a windfall. I had always thought that Fredo was, essentially, a worker bee for our side. Stu paid all of the costs, and Fredo wasn't allowed to make a move without consulting us. But our lawyer said that wasn't the law, and I feared what would become of that part of the pie, as an expert described sharing this fee. Ultimately, the judge gave that large slice to the other side.

Whatever. I dealt with the disappointing news in the only appropriate way I know: I drafted gift letters to Pat, my financial guy, for our annual donations to FIU and Friendship Circle. Conventional wisdom is you give more when a windfall comes in. I figure why not switch things up -- thank the Big Man for the manifold blessings He has bestowed upon us regardless of the trivial outcome of a craven fee fight among greedy lawyers.

And it was a lovely Tuesday, other than that Order. I met D2 and D1's house, and we plucked the hilarious toddler from preschool. He announced that his preferred activity was to go for "Eye Cream," and so we did -- to his shop in Miami Shores, where he gets his favorite flavor: Pink. I think yesterday it was strawberry -- D2 handled the details.

From there we headed back home, where Joey was on work calls and we got the little man to keep things to his version of a whisper. His baby brother was up, smiling and just a ray of sunshine, as usual.

Jonathan came by, and D2, Jonathan, and I went to look at a house for sale in D1 and Joey's 'hood. Dare I dream my Ds would be neighbors, sharing lives, with, dare I dream, grandkid or kids from D2? I do dare, and the house is beautiful and absurdly overpriced in this market, but I still think it's the right move for them. I hope they agree and my family ends up controlling 1/9 of an 18 house development in Shorecrest.

I left the happy tumult of D1 and Joey's house, and decided to stop at Kon Chau for some solo dim sum. But wait! Not so fast! A sign said they were closing for a few Tuesdays. What? It was Tuesday! So no dim sum for me! Instead I ordered the comically named Takee Outee, and delivery was minutes after I fought Kendall traffic to make it home. Wifey had her special won ton soup. Yes -- I married a won ton woman -- it's her favorite.

We watched the Heat lose game 2 of their playoff series -- but they still fought -- without their best player Jimmy Butler, nursing a bad ankle and with clownish officiating. I still think they'll win this series. I checked in on the Panthers, and saw they pulled another upset in their series in Toronto. My biggest Panther fan friend Norman may be right -- he bought the toddler grandson a LOT of Cat swag , and it may be bringing luck to the team to have an adorable toddler fan.

So life goes happily on. My share of the fee, assuming Saul Goodman doesn't appeal, will just about pay for the expensive South American vacation we've planned for December. I make fun that Wifey insists we fly Business Class, when in truth it's me. It's a luxury I happily pay for -- especially on flights longer than a few hours. 

Wifey asked if I thought Fredo was thrilled with the Judge's decision. I truly no longer care -- I kicked the MF, betraying con artist, out of my head. Time wounds all heels, often.

As for things around here -- too much good stuff going on to get bogged down by a fee result. The other thought that occurs to me is that the great Joe Walsh line is appropriate: I can't complain, but sometimes I still do.

It'll be nice to stay out of court.