Showing posts with label Health. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Health. Show all posts

Monday, August 31, 2026

Lex Anteinternet: On starting a 37th Year I will not finish.

Lex Anteinternet: On starting a 37th Year I will not finish.: I was admitted to practice 36 years ago today. Back when the Rocky Mountain News was still a thing, they used to run columns by Charley Ree...

On starting a 37th Year I will not finish.

I was admitted to practice 36 years ago today.

Back when the Rocky Mountain News was still a thing, they used to run columns by Charley Reese.  I didn't always agree with them by any means, Reese was a dyed in wool Confederate Gray Southerner, but they were often quite interesting.  I can recall his final column when he noted he was going to retire.  On the timing he said something like "when you know, you know".

I'm at that point.

My wife, however, definitely isn't at that point for me, an ongoing source of conflict.

In Wyoming, and maybe in most places, lawyers are admitted to the bar in August for the most part. A second, smaller crops, is admitted in March or so.  I was admitted in August, 36 years ago.

Back in September 2025 I started a thread about having passed the 35 year mark but never published it.  I was angry about something at the time, pretty clearly, and it was a very bitter posts.  I thought better of it and didn't post it, but I didn't wipe it out until recently.  I reread it and then did so, even though much of what I wrote in it is still true.

All careers are individual, of course which is what makes career advice so dangerous.  I've known people, for instance, who served in the military and absolutely hated it.  The entire film M*A*S*H and the television series is, in no small part, based on a hatred of military service, although the book's author, a conservative, ironically did not hate his. The same is true, for what it's worth, of Catch 22.  Heller actually admired the military he lampooned.  Both books were hugely successful, however, as they not only tapped into the oddities of military life, but also into a hatred of it in some quarters.

In contrast, I've known people who loved it, and I myself liked it.

I note that as I suppose that the law is the same way, maybe all careers are.

That aside, the law is unique and is well known for being so.

The law has an alcoholism and alcohol abuse rate that's far higher than other professions.  That isn't the only abusive trait in it, however.  It's estimated that something like 60% of lawyers have had in the office sexual infidelities and while I haven't tried to add up percentages, and that percentage seems high, there are indeed a lot of them.  The law also has some really screwball personalities in it, although I'm at the point where I now wonder if those personalities became that way due to the law, or entered the law because of it.  In my current Gen. Jones stage of life, I'm amazed by the number of burnt out husks of people who won't retire from the law as that's all they have.

I'm not the only one who's noticed that, and a recent conversation is part of what brought me back to this thread.  In speaking to an opposing lawyer I've known a long time by phone, on a holiday, he brought up the very things I've noted, this included.  Indeed, he noted that for a lot of people, they'd become lawyers, that's what they now were as part of their personality. That's all that's left.

That should never happen, but the law is an all consuming job.

He was actually a bit angry about it.  I'm not angry, but I don't want to become one of those people.  My friend noted that what he "is", is a hunter and mountain climber.  What he "does" is be a lawyer.  That's pretty much true for me as well, although I'd substitute outdoorsmen for climber.

He also had the observation that after working years at the law, late nights, early days, weekends, that he and his wife did things together rarely.  The pressure of work brought that about.  That's pretty much the same story in my own life.  Another lawyer I know just had his wife of about 30 years just up and leave him, leaving him wondering why.  It seems a "therapist" suggested that, and frankly I have a dim view of most therapist or counsellors, but what I suspect is that the same thing was at work.  That fellow had told me not all that long, before the disaster came, that he was never going to retire, because he enjoyed the fellowship of the lawyers.

Well, nothing that we do at work is something "enjoyed" by our spouses, except for perhaps the money.  If the lawyer is really one of those ones who enjoys the courtroom combat, or the intellectual challenge, the spouses don't participate in that at all.

Money can matter, however.  Yet another lawyer I know, about my same age, is trying to retire but is upset as his wife just can't grasp that the funding burn rate has to stop.  I think a lot of lawyers who keep on keeping on face that with a family member or perhaps themselves. From the outside, you know they'd be fine.  But to them, or a loved one, the fear of no further income will just drive them into the grave, working.  Fears of that type, and not my own, have kept me working for the past four years.

The law is not only an all consuming occupation, it's one that's soul destroying.  Many "plaintiffs' lawyers" have really lost their humanity.  Not all by any means, but quite a few. They really don't care about the people they represent in many instances.  It's one of the thing that makes practicing law so dispiriting and damaging to your own soul.  Most of the propaganda that lawyers and law firms of a certain type being there to help people is pure crap.  They don't mean it, and everyone inside the law knows that.  Simply practicing law, at some point, or perhaps more accurately being in litigation, is participating on a fraud on the public.

I'm told I'm really good at the law.  If that's true it's proof you can be good at something that you really don't love.  I'm beyond the point of not loving it anymore.

I entered the profession for the same reasons a lot of people do.  My earlier career had not worked out and I didn't seem to have any other place to go.  I had started off obtaining a very difficult science degree only to graduate into an economy where I was unemployable.  This is, I'd note, more common than a person might suppose.  There was no family business to step into.  What I really wanted to do, and still do, wasn't open to me.  Even at that, I hesitated and I chose not to enter the law school class I was admitted into.  I waited a year hoping to find work, and didn't.  Soldiering was the work that year.  I guess I could have chosen to make that a career, and in some ways I"m surprised I didn't.

The last year of my undergraduate degree I tried switch to a different field:

The road not taken.

Sigh. . . 

I'd be offered a summer position with them, but not until years later, at which point I was already practicing law and engaged.  I've posted on that before.

If 'd had my druthers, which hardly anyone does, I would have have been a rancher.  I have been around agriculture which is to say that I would have ranched full time.  I came close it without really realizing it after law school right as my father was looking at retiring.  We came close to the two of us starting a place, and then he died.  I abandoned that particular effort in order to help my mother, who had no such interest.  Laster I found she was baffled why I hadn't let her know.

My wife and I have always had cattle, but it's never been a full time thing.  Sometimes it's promised to almost be that, but it never has.  Now I'm 63 and time has moved on.  It's something I'll never recover from.  It was one of the goals that kept me at my desk job, and now the goal can't be met.  

Time and effort wasted.

There are some things that are quite scary about time moving on, I'll note.  Fear of death is not one of them.  I constantly hear that people are supposed to be afraid of death, but I've lived pretty close to death my entire life and I'm not.  If death arrives before my plans play out, well, so be it.  Nobody knows the day nor the hour.  Momento mori.

But what has moved on is the opportunity to complete a bunch of things I used to do and be engaged in before I started practicing law.  That must show something about my own character, as other lawyers take long vacations and the like, but I don't really seem capable of devoting time to vocations and avocations.  I'll leave it to the reader to decide which is which.  The interest in those pursuits remains, however.

Gone is interest in the law itself.  I'm not interested nor fascinated in it.  I never loved it in the first place, but I have had over the years a reputation as being a legal scholar.  I still get calls from various lawyers about legal situations which are rare or difficult. The difference is that I no longer find them interesting at all.

At one time, seeing as I was a lawyer, I really wanted to be a judge, which is a position for legal scholars, and I've applied within our system a bunch of times, and been encouraged to do so by judges.  Now I'm too old, as mandatory retirement is at age 70 and the committee isn't going to appoint somebody at age 63 for a single term.  Or I suppose not. To my surprise, they recently almost in fact did that in a district in which very few people were applying for the position. The past two Governors and the Judicial Nominating Committee have pretty much wrecked the process for successful lawyers, so applications are way down.

Indeed, one of my frustrations with the practice of law has been watching the decline of the judicial nominating system, which has grown much more political over the last few decades. When I started out you could really see why various judges got appointed to their positions.  When Matt Mead became Governor, however, he had an agenda of appointing women and that's what he was going to do.  That was a politically motivated bias and it meant if there was a man up for the same position, he wasn't getting it.

Governor Gordon has had a very strong bias towards prosecutors, although there are some exceptions. 

The oncoming Governor, Barlow, will be interesting to watch in this regard.  He's a professional himself (veterinarian) and perhaps he'll take a more informed and balanced view.

Anyhow, after 36 years of this, it's time to move on, so I'm moving on.  I'll complete this year, but I'm not starting another one.

Indeed, on the topic, I'm capable of reading the signs.  The American dream is that you live to age 100 and die in your sleep.  You probably aren't going to.  

Over the last couple of years I've watched some of the lawyers who are older than me decline pretty seriously in some ways.  And I'm declining too.  I had colon surgery out of the blue, something that probably could have been averted if I'd had regular colon checkups like you are supposed to.  Going through that process I ended up having an odd thing on my thyroid discovered.  Half my thyroid ended up coming out, although I probably could have avoided that if I was willing to risk it being nothing, which didn't seem to be a solid risk at the time.  Now I have to take pills every day for the first time in my life.

A year ago the eye doctor noted something peculiar in my eye.  Last week, on my follow up exam, it was clear it was a tiny cataract  It's not a problem yet, but it probably will be in "ten years".  I'm young for a cataract, but it's due to an injury.  

I've endured a lot of injuries over the years.

I'm considerably more tired than I used to be, and my physical stamina, still pretty good, has declined.  I could probably address this as people ought to at my age by exercise, but my schedule is incredibly burdened.  

I don't handle stress anywhere near as good as I used to, however, and stress is a killer.

So, in four months, I'm done.

The big challenge now is letting everyone know, and getting my wife to accept it.  That part isn't going to be easy at all.  

It's not going to be easy as at least my long suffering spouse doesn't want to believe I'm at this point.  I've been mentioning it, but when retirement comes up, it's always "you can't".  Retirement is, she suggests, a year further in the future than I imagine it.

A year isn't much, but it's a year.  I hear all the time that somebody retired and then died, as if retirement killed them.  Really, they just hang on too long.

And again, that hanging on is a funny thing.  I've watched one lawyer who has no family (divorced) and who has no faith keep on going to work.  I guess it's his identify . I mentioned retiring to him once and he scoffed, saying "good luck".  Of course, I don't have to pay alimony and I don't take expensive trips.

I've also watched a couple of very ill lawyers hang on after their illness set in. It provided a distraction I guess.  Indeed, on the very odd occasion I mention this to anyone people always suggest a law job I could take in retirement, which isn't what I have in mind at all.

In contrast, one lawyer who experienced a health care scare recently, one year younger than me told me that next year was definitely the date.  When I expressed doubt, the reply was "watch me".

What you are supposed to say, like Edith Piaf, is that you have no regrets about your career as a lawyer.

I can't say that.

I probably should feel that way.  Just yesterday, once again, thinking over the past 36 years I came to the conclusion that with the box I was in, I did the only thing I could do.  True or not, and it's probably true, hindsight being 20/20, I'd have avoided the law like the plague if I'd known what it was like.  As noted above, I'm sure there are people who look back and say they loved every second of it.

I'm not one of them.

To compound  things, I've been in litigation the entire time.  That was a mistake, as I'm not well suited for it internally.  I'm an introvert and I don't like being in extroverted situations.  I just couldn't find a way out of it.

Well, anyhow, page one of the concluding chapter.

So now, I have to start informing people.  This isn't going to be fun at all, but knowing myself, if I don't, it won't become real.

I've never liked doing trials.  Some lawyers claim to love them, and I suppose they do. There's something in their personalities, a defect really, which requires them to test their wits against other people.  Most lawyers don't like doing them, and most of the lawyers who say they do, are lying.

Like baseball players before a game, most lawyers have some sort of ritual before they try a case.  At one time, as late as the early 90s, that ritual for quite a few involved heavy drinking.  I don't think that's the case so much anymore.  Frankly, while conservatives are all worked up about it in some quarters, I think that's one of the things that the massive introduction of women into the law changed, and for the better.

When I get close to trials, I usually rewatch The Wild Bunch.  I know that's odd, but I love that movie and I find it very engaging.  Part of the reason that I watch it in this context is that the protagonists in the move are basically all mercenaries of a sort.  Yes, I know that they're criminals, but still.  And there's not one redeeming person in their whole contest.

Everyone who likes movies is familiar with the famous concluding gunbattle of the movie.  But that's not the last scene.  Former gang member turned bounty hunter Deke Thornton is waiting outside the town gate as evening arrives, having sent the dead bodies of the gang back with the other bounty hunters.  Elderly gang member Skyes rides up with Mexican Indians and  the following exchange occurs.

Sykes: I didn't expect to find you here.

Deke Thornton: Why not? I sent them back. That's all I said I'd do.

Sykes: They didn't get very far.

Deke Thornton: I figured.

Sykes: What are your plans, now?

Deke Thornton: Drift around down here. Try to stay out of jail.

Sykes: Well, me and the boys got some work to do. You want to come with us? It ain't like it used to be, but it'll do.

That's how I feel about things.  I intend to hunt, fish, work cattle, write and put in a garden.

But even if I only do a faction of that stuff, it'll be okay.

It ain't like it used to be, but it'll do.

Wednesday, May 8, 2024

Lex Anteinternet: A conversation with an old friend. The Good Death, and the Good Life and Existential Occupations.

Lex Anteinternet: A conversation with an old friend. The Good Death...

A conversation with an old friend. The Good Death, and the Good Life and Existential Occupations.


A really old friend of mine and I were talking about it just last week.

I had to catch up with him as he was working on something for me.  It was Friday, but I was fairly formally dressed and he noted it. The reason was that I had just come from my uncle's funeral earlier that day.  He extended his sympathies, but I noted that my uncle had lived a long and good life.  Not a life free of troubles, as no such thing existed, but a long life, that was well lived, and he'd remained sharp right up until the end.  His health had declined in recent years, but only in very recent ones.  It was the last few months that were rough.

My friend and I, who first knew each other as National Guardsmen back in the 80s, are co-religious.  Neither of us was married when we first met, but both of us have, and have seen our kids grow up since then.  And of course, we've seen our parents pass away, his before mine.  He has siblings, which I do not, and one of his brothers died, only in his 50s.  I noted that in the Middle Ages, people often prayed for good deaths, and he noted that a prayer group that he's in now does that every week.

Prayer for a Happy Death

O God, great and omnipotent judge of the living and the dead, we are to appear before you after this short life to render an account of our works. Give us the grace to prepare for our last hour by a devout and holy life, and protect us against a sudden and unprovided death. Let us remember our frailty and mortality, that we may always live in the ways of your commandments. Teach us to "watch and pray" (Lk 21:36), that when your summons comes for our departure from this world, we may go forth to meet you, experience a merciful judgment, and rejoice in everlasting happiness. We ask this through Christ our Lord. Amen.

I'm constantly amazed by people who work into old age, as I'd judge it, and keeping working.  A dear friend of mine, now in his 70s, noted that just the other day.  He doesn't have to, he just is.  Likewise, I know a collection of lawyers who fit that description.  The law is a hard job, surrounded by hard facts, hard people, and difficult scenarios

I think they just know nothing else, their real personalities, perhaps, burnt to the core eons ago.

In contrast, I'm also constantly amazed by those who have extensive plans for their retirements well before they can retire.  Another friend of mine fits this category, but when I look at him, I can tell his physical condition is so poor it'd be amazing if he lives long enough to retire.  It's one of those things where you don't know what to say.  If you were to be blunt, you'd say that the dreams of early retirement are probably forlorn, but that his dreams of retiring at all may be foreclosed by a bad early death, if some correction isn't made soon, and those corrections are harder to make once you are past your 30s.

The call came to my wife on Saturday.  I could tell from the tone what the topic was, without even being told.  A relative of hers was on his way to the hospital by helicopter.  Even though he was being sent in, in that fashion, I knew, but did not say it, that he'd not make it.  I'm not even sure if he wanted to.

And so another death.

In this case, unlike my uncle, he was much younger.  My age, in fact.  I hadn't seen him for many years, and before his troubles really set in.  He hadn't been able to adjust to them well.  The most common comment from people, none of whom were surprised, was that his torment was over.

I don't have any big plans, like one of my friends, for retirement.  I hope to be healthy, and just become more of an agrarian-killetarian than I presently am.  Funny thing is that recently I've been running into people who claim "you're looking really good". Somebody asked me the other day, indeed at the funeral gathering, "you're working out", the question in the form of a statement.  Not really.

Indeed, I've gained some weight I seemingly just can't lose, which I think is the byproduct of my thyroid medicine, which has made me hungry, and I know that I'm not in the physical condition I was before my recent health troubles commenced.  People close to me just won't accept that, which brings me to the other side of the retirement coin noted above.  Some lawyers I know are already planning for me to work into my 70s, as that's the thing to do, apparently. Long-suffering spouse, for her part, won't say something like that, but from an ag family, she doesn't really accept the concept of retirement anyhow.  Having said that, I wouldn't plan on my retiring from the ag operation either.

It finally occured to me, however, what's different about agricultural jobs as opposed to others, at least if you are an owner of the enterprise or part of it.  The occupation itself is existentially human.  It is, if you will, an Existential Occupation, or at least it is right now. The mindless gerbil like advance of "progress" may ruin that and reduce it to just another occupation.

Existential Occupations are ones that run with our DNA as a species.  Being a farmer/herdsman is almost as deep in us as being a hunter or fisherman, and it stems from the same root in our being.  It's that reason, really, that people who no longer have to go to the field and stream for protein, still do, and it's the reason that people who can buy frozen Brussels sprouts at Riddleys' still grown them on their lots.  And its the reason that people who have never been around livestock will feel, after they get a small lot, that they need a cow, a goat, or chickens.  It's in us.  That's why people don't retire from real agriculture.

It's not the only occupation of that type, we might note.  Clerics are in that category.  Storytellers and Historians are as well.  We've worshiped the Devine since our onset as a species, and we've told stories and kept our history as story the entire time.  They're all existential in nature.  Those who build certain things probably fit into that category as well, as we've always done that.  The fact that people tinker with machinery as a hobby would suggest that it's like that as well.

Indeed, if it's an occupation. . . and also a hobby, that's a good clue that its an Existential Occupation.

If I were to retire from my career, which I can't right now, I wouldn't be one of those people who spend their time traveling to Rome or Paris or wherever.  I have very low interest in doing that.  I'd spend my time writing, fishing, hunting, gardening (and livestock tending).  That probably sounds pretty dull to most people.  I could imagine myself checking our Iceland or Ireland, or fjords in Norway, but I likely never will.

What I can't imagine myself doing is imagining that age and decline don't occur, and that I should be in court in my 70s.  I don't think that the lawyers who do that realize that younger lawyers don't admire that, and most of the lawyers I'm running into in court are younger than me now.  

And indeed, frankly, it isn't admirable.  People who work a hard non-existential job and keep at it into their advanced old age, or at least past their 7th decade, have just lost something they were when they were young, and much of that is themselves.  They've lost who they were.

AN ACT OF FAITH IN ANTICIPATION OF THE HOUR OF DEATH

From the works of St. Pompilio M. Pirrotti

On my journey toward eternity, dear Lord,

 

I am surrounded  by powerful enemies of my soul.

I live in fear and trembling,

especially at the thought of the hour of death,

on which my eternity will depend,

and of the fearful struggle that the devil will then have to wage against me,

knowing that little time is left for him to accomplish my eternal ruin.

I desire, therefore, O Lord,

to prepare myself for it from this hour,

by offering you now, in view of my last hour,

my profession of faith and love for you,

which is so effectual in repressing and rendering useless

all the crafty and wicked schemes of the enemy

and which I resolve to oppose to him at that moment of such grave consequence,

even though he should dare alone to attack with his deceits

the peace and tranquility of my spirit.


I N.N.,

in the presence of the Most Holy Trinity,

the blessed Virgin Mary,

my holy Guardian Angel

and the entire heavenly host,

affirm that I wish to live and die under the standard of the Holy Cross.


I firmly believe all that our Holy Mother,

the holy, catholic and apostolic Church,

believes and teaches.

It is my steadfast intention to die in this holy faith,

in which all the holy martyrs, confessors and virgins of Christ have died,

as well as all those who have saved their souls.


If the devil should tempt me to despair

because of the multitude and grievousness of my sins,

I affirm that from this day forth

I firmly hope in the infinite mercy of God,

which will not let itself be overcome by my sins,

and in the Precious Blood of Jesus

which has washed all my sins away.


If the devil should assail me with temptations to presumption

by reason of the small amount of good

which by the help of God

I may have been able to accomplish,

I confess from this day forth

that I deserve eternal separation from God

a thousand times by my sins

and I entrust myself entirely

to the infinite goodness of God,

through whose grace alone I am what I am.


Finally, if the evil spirit should suggest to me

that the pains inflicted upon me by our Lord

in that last hour of my life

are too heavy to bear,

I affirm now that all will be as nothing

in comparison with the punishments I have deserved throughout life.

In the bitterness of my soul

I call to remembrance all my years;

I see my iniquities, I confess them and detest them.

Ashamed and sorrowful I turn to you,

my God, my Creator and my Redeemer.

Forgive me, O Lord, by the multitude of your mercies;

forgive your servant whom you have redeemed by your Precious Blood.


My God, I turn to you, I call upon you, I trust in you;

 to your infinite goodness

I commit the entire reckoning of my life.

I have sinned greatly, O Lord:

 enter not into judgment with your servant,

who surrenders to you

and confesses his guilt.

Of myself I cannot make satisfaction to you for my countless sins:

I do not have the means to pay you for my infinite debt.

But your Son has shed his Blood for me,

and greater than all mine sins is your mercy.


O Jesus, be my Saviour!

At the hour of my fearful crossing to eternity

put to flight the enemy of my soul;

grant me grace to overcome every difficulty,

for you alone do mighty wonders.


Lord,

according to the multitude of your tender mercies

I shall enter into your dwelling place.

Trusting in your pity,

I commend my spirit into your hands!


May the Blessed Virgin Mary

and my Guardian Angel

accompany my soul into the heavenly country. Amen.

We should all hope and indeed pray for a happy death.  And perhaps we should pray for a happy life, which is one worthwhile.  That doesn't, quite frankly, include the "I'm going to work here at my desk until I die".  That's surrendering to fear or meaningless, in most cases.

Again, there are exceptions.  People with Existential Occupations, people who own their own special business, and the like.  The list can't really be set out in full.

That doesn't include pouring through the latest edition of the IRS code for deductions, or reading the Restatement (Second) of Torts, or engineering an oilfield implement. 

Sunday, December 10, 2023

Lex Anteinternet: Blog Mirror: Collapsed

Lex Anteinternet: Blog Mirror: Collapsed:

Blog Mirror: Collapsed


Well worth reading:

Collapsed

You can see my reply there as well, which I've set out again here:

"Last year it would have not been a problem but this year I'm not in great shape due to family issues"

Me too, except it's my own health, starting with a surgery in October 2022, and another in August. Haven't really recovered, although I should have.

Maybe you never really do.

Anyhow, was walking out of the high country at a pretty good clip as a rainstorm came rolling in. Lost my footing on a rock, fell, rolled over, and cut myself pretty bad. Just me and the dog. No cell reception, and I've given up carrying my gmrs radio as there's nobody to call if I'm hunting alone.

Rolled over, wasn't damaged and hiked out bleeding. It hasn't been a great year.

Glad you were okay.

I don't mean to be hijacking somebody else's blog, but since October 2022 I haven't been myself.  I wrote previously on my surgery followed by a second surgery.  Since the first surgery, my digestive track hasn't recovered, and it's clear that it's not going to.  I'm sick every morning.  Not some mornings, every morning, save, oddly enough, for a few days I spent at trial where I couldn't afford to be.*  Most days I'm better off not eating any breakfast anymore, as it's just going to make me sick.  I was already developing an intolerance to milk, but now it's through the roof.  I can't even eat cereal with a little milk.  The stuff I'm used to eating in the morning, which was always a pretty light meal, is a no-go completely now.

And the second surgery resulted in a medication that I'm pretty sure isn't adjusted right, right now.  Everyone has told me how thyroid medication is supposed to make you feel great and give you energy. Well, that isn't working for me.  Researching it, there are a tiny minority of people who actually never feel good following a thyroid surgery and for whom the medications don't work to address that.  Given that almost no medication ever works well for me, I wouldn't be at all surprised if that was me.  Hindsight is 20/20, but I really wish I'd foregone that surgery now and have borne the risk of cancer instead.  At age 60, and from a short-lived group, the risk probably was worth it.**

Worst of all, frankly, being sick all the time impacts your attitude in ways you can't really appreciate until it's obvious.  I've been there recently. Short-tempered and not having a good long term outlook.  At work the other day I blew up on two colleagues who have been running a really irritating religious debate for years, in the hallway, for what they conceive to be the entertainment of the unwilling listeners.  Our poor Mexican runner has to listen to this constantly, and I finally had enough and just exploded on them.  The point isn't that their juvenile behavior was okay, but that my reaction was so stout.***I shouldn't have done that, and that's just a minor example.

I usually look longingly forward to hunting season, but this year I've just not been too motivated after a certain point. Being tired has a lot to do with that.   And when you are like that, you are a pain to those around you, at least to some extent.  Some can see and appreciate that, others not so much.  It's hard to appreciate it yourself until something forces you to.  I looked forward to all summer to the season, and enjoyed deer hunting, but usually by now I've done a pile of duck hunting.  I've gone this year. . .twice. Every Saturday, the dog looks at me with confusion.  The funny thing is that all week long I still look forward to getting out, but when the weekend comes, I go down to work like old lawyers do, and when Sunday comes, well I haven't gone to Mass the night prior, so I get a late start doing whatever I'm going to do.

As noted above, not only am I tired, but I'm not in shape the way I usually am.  I've fallen so rarely out in the sticks that as a short person, I'm one of those people who were sort of goat like, climbing in terrain where hunters and fishermen wouldn't normally go and not worrying about it even though it was patently dangerous.  As a National Guardsmen, I recall once somebody remarking how me and another NCO were mysteriously able to negotiate difficult terrain at night, silently.  We were both avid hunters.  To take a fall, and a pretty bad one, on terrain that I'd been over a million times was a shock.

I was actually quite lucky at the time.  I was all alone, taking a path that I normally would not have, although as noted I've been on it many times before. There was a thunderstorm coming in.  I was carrying a loaded shotgun.  I fell, and, recalling the plf ***I learned so many years ago, rolled out of it, but not before I'd scrapped myself up pretty badly.  I wasn't sure at first if I'd broken anything.  I had my cell phone, as noted, but no reception, so I couldn't have called for help if I wanted to.  I usually carry a handheld GMRS radio, but I've quit recently as if I'm alone, who am I going to radio to?

Hors de combat, after it started to heal.

Sic transit gloria mundi.

I can recall my father getting like this when he was almost the exact same age I am now.  He died two years later.  He seemed pretty old at the time, so I wasn't hugely surprised.  I guess it's like the Hendrix song, "You may wake up in the morning, just to find that you are dead".

Of course, he was gravely ill for months prior to that.  In retrospect, however, it all started for him with a colonoscopy, the same way that this has started for me.  I recall him remarking as he was in the hospital on how all of his mother's ailments were now visiting him.  She died, if I recall correctly, at 65.

In my mind, I always imagined that at some point after I had reached retirement age, which I have not yet, I'd retire to a life of full time outdoorsman.  Not too many people do that.  There may be a reason for that. Some of us are luckier as we age than others.

Oh well, nature has a way of waking you up and reminding you that some things need to be done.  Getting sick? Quite doing what you are doing, refocus, and soldier on.  Get a grip, reform, reform, and keep on keeping on, but mindful of errors and omissions.

Footnotes

*I've long noticed for some reason a person's system will suppress symptoms of almost any illness when you absolutely have to keep on, keeping on. Usually things come back with a vengeance, or at least fatigue, when the crisis has passed.

**This is not intended to be advice for anyone else, I'd note.

***Re the argument, the entire facility had grown extremely tired of it and the shutting them up was welcomed, save by one of the arguers, who may be permanently mad at me.  Showing my presently poor mental outlook, I don't care.  I'm tired of hearing minority religions insulted when some of the employees belong to them, and I'm tired of having my own faith routinely insulted, which I've endured now for decades.  And while I'm a serious if imperfect orthodox Catholic, I'm also tired of one of these individuals, who isn't that good at arguing, turning to religious topics no matter what is being discussed, to include my assistant simply taking her shoes off in her office the other day, which would not normally lead to a Biblical discussion, but of course did.

I've also had it with somebody thinking that mocking the Spanish language is funny in front of somebody who's an immigrant.

***Parachute Landing Fall.  I learned this, oddly enough, while I was a CAP cadet.

Friday, July 7, 2023

Lex Anteinternet: Put On A Broad Brimmed Hat (and keep a real shirt ...

Lex Anteinternet: Put On A Broad Brimmed Hat (and keep a real shirt ...:

Put On A Broad Brimmed Hat (and keep a real shirt on).

Is this what happens when you actually have to work?🤪😂 rip to my very sun sensitive skin and my lack of ability to learn to cover it
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This is my annual agricultural hat public service announcement.

I subscribe to a bunch of Agricultural Twitter feeds.  In contrast, I think I subscribe to the feeds of two lawyers, but not because they're lawyers.  I note this, as I subscribe to this young woman's Twitter feed.

Why?

Well, when it started, she was on the harvesting tour.  I've seen the combines come through here and I knew that they start in one North American location and go north, which is interesting.  I'm not sure how many people realize that harvesting large grain farms is a contract job, it's not actually, usually, the farmers doing it.

Anyhow, I kept the subscription up as it's an agricultural feed.  I keep up the feeds from a half dozen ranches, two large Canadian ag outfits, etc.

I should note, I particularly like this one:



Opens profile photo
Following
Stuart Somerville
@Stuthefarmer
Father & Husband. Farmer. Bagpiper. Trying to live in a good way.
This is a bit of a disclaimer, as any Twitter post by any young woman brings at least a small selection of "Jane Doe, you're so beautiful. . . " type posts, from the Net Desperate, I guess.

Well, anyway you look at it, or her I guess, letting this happen to your skin is going to mean you're not going to be beautiful or handsome by your 40s.  The skin damage is going to catch up with you.  Fair skinned people in particular are going to get it.

People who worked outdoors used to know how to dress.  At least ranchers and cowboys still do, as a rule.  Farmers, for some reason, and people who work on farms, much less so.  It's odd.

Broad brimmed hats, shirts with sleeves.  Put them on.

This too, I'd note, for outdoorsmen.  Outdoorsmen seem to spend piles of money on specialized clothing, and yet I'll still see some that aren't wearing much.  Not a good idea at all.