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Name: Hank McCoy
Metro: New York City
Gender: Male


Interests: So here's the plan: Atticus. give better than i get. finish what I start. fiber. learn to read and write. take lots of pictures. get a job either keeping colored people out of jail or putting rich white people into jail. direct a movie using plastic army men. bike to work. teach. marry a woman who inspires me. make her proud. buy my dad a boat. theology. learn to build stuff. read history. loads of barbeque. get my sleep. have kids like my 'tards from camp. work out. own a room with nothing but screen windows, tin roof, ceiling fan, and a hammock. get my paramedic's license. make tiramisu. win my fantasy football league. run a baby triathalon. have weekly dinners with my family like those crazy Asians in Eat Drink Man Woman. lots of ultimate. hardwood floors, dimmers, and lots of light. get in a fight. run for office. write a newspaper column. eat my veggies. rebuild a Karmann Ghia or a convertable Galaxy. be a personal trainer. publish. do my part in saving the world.
Expertise: "Few will have the greatness to bend history; but each of us can work to change a small portion of events, and in the total of all those acts will be written the history of this generation ... It is from numberless diverse acts of courage and belief that human history is thus shaped. Each time a man stands up for an ideal, or acts to improve the lot of others, or strikes out against injustice, he sends forth a tiny ripple of hope, and crossing each other from a million different centers of energy and daring, those ripples build a current which can sweep down the mightiest walls of oppression and resistance." -Robert Kennedy, Day of Affirmation Address, University of Capetown, South Africa, June 6, 1966


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Saturday, June 13, 2009

Currently
Dexter: The Complete Second Season
By Michael C. Hall
see related

Netflix Haiku 2

I like how Dexter's
worst enemies are the folks
that love him the most.

2008.06.01

2007.06.12 (bummer that I can't even remember what I was watching)

2006.06.06

2005.06.12

2004.06.13


Currently
Dexter: The First Season
By Michael C. Hall, Erik King, James Remar, Julie Benz, Rita Bennett
see related

Netflix Haikus

Sentimental twists
on old tv conventions.
like weekly bad guys.

It's like MacGyver
with a little bit of edge
and less puffy hair.





Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Currently
The Associate
By John Grisham
see related

 

- If I Had My Way -

All Americans would read this:

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/06/10/business/economy/10leonhardt.html?hp

And all New Yorkers would read this:

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/06/10/nyregion/10about.html?ref=nyregion&pagewanted=print

- - - - -

Here're the articles, in full text:

June 10, 2009
Economic Scene

For U.S., a Sea of Perilous Red Ink, Years in the Making

There are two basic truths about the enormous deficits that the federal government will run in the coming years.

The first is that President Obama’s agenda, ambitious as it may be, is responsible for only a sliver of the deficits, despite what many of his Republican critics are saying. The second is that Mr. Obama does not have a realistic plan for eliminating the deficit, despite what his advisers have suggested.

The New York Times analyzed Congressional Budget Office reports going back almost a decade, with the aim of understanding how the federal government came to be far deeper in debt than it has been since the years just after World War II. This debt will constrain the country’s choices for years and could end up doing serious economic damage if foreign lenders become unwilling to finance it.

Mr. Obama — responding to recent signs of skittishness among those lenders — met with 40 members of Congress at the White House on Tuesday and called for the re-enactment of pay-as-you-go rules, requiring Congress to pay for any new programs it passes.

The story of today’s deficits starts in January 2001, as President Bill Clinton was leaving office. The Congressional Budget Office estimated then that the government would run an average annual surplus of more than $800 billion a year from 2009 to 2012. Today, the government is expected to run a $1.2 trillion annual deficit in those years.

You can think of that roughly $2 trillion swing as coming from four broad categories: the business cycle, President George W. Bush’s policies, policies from the Bush years that are scheduled to expire but that Mr. Obama has chosen to extend, and new policies proposed by Mr. Obama.

The first category — the business cycle — accounts for 37 percent of the $2 trillion swing. It’s a reflection of the fact that both the 2001 recession and the current one reduced tax revenue, required more spending on safety-net programs and changed economists’ assumptions about how much in taxes the government would collect in future years.

About 33 percent of the swing stems from new legislation signed by Mr. Bush. That legislation, like his tax cuts and the Medicare prescription drug benefit, not only continue to cost the government but have also increased interest payments on the national debt.

Mr. Obama’s main contribution to the deficit is his extension of several Bush policies, like the Iraq war and tax cuts for households making less than $250,000. Such policies — together with the Wall Street bailout, which was signed by Mr. Bush and supported by Mr. Obama — account for 20 percent of the swing.

About 7 percent comes from the stimulus bill that Mr. Obama signed in February. And only 3 percent comes from Mr. Obama’s agenda on health care, education, energy and other areas.

If the analysis is extended further into the future, well beyond 2012, the Obama agenda accounts for only a slightly higher share of the projected deficits.

How can that be? Some of his proposals, like a plan to put a price on carbon emissions, don’t cost the government any money. Others would be partly offset by proposed tax increases on the affluent and spending cuts. Congressional and White House aides agree that no large new programs, like an expansion of health insurance, are likely to pass unless they are paid for.

Alan Auerbach, an economist at the University of California, Berkeley, and an author of a widely cited study on the dangers of the current deficits, describes the situation like so: “Bush behaved incredibly irresponsibly for eight years. On the one hand, it might seem unfair for people to blame Obama for not fixing it. On the other hand, he’s not fixing it.”

“And,” he added, “not fixing it is, in a sense, making it worse.”

When challenged about the deficit, Mr. Obama and his advisers generally start talking about health care. “There is no way you can put the nation on a sound fiscal course without wringing inefficiencies out of health care,” Peter Orszag, the White House budget director, told me.

Outside economists agree. The Medicare budget really is the linchpin of deficit reduction. But there are two problems with leaving the discussion there.

First, even if a health overhaul does pass, it may not include the tough measures needed to bring down spending. Ultimately, the only way to do so is to take money from doctors, drug makers and insurers, and it isn’t clear whether Mr. Obama and Congress have the stomach for that fight. So far, they have focused on ideas like preventive care that would do little to cut costs.

Second, even serious health care reform won’t be enough. Obama advisers acknowledge as much. They say that changes to the system would probably have a big effect on health spending starting in five or 10 years. The national debt, however, will grow dangerously large much sooner.

Mr. Orszag says the president is committed to a deficit equal to no more than 3 percent of gross domestic product within five to 10 years. The Congressional Budget Office projects a deficit of at least 4 percent for most of the next decade. Even that may turn out to be optimistic, since the government usually ends up spending more than it says it will. So Mr. Obama isn’t on course to meet his target.

But Congressional Republicans aren’t, either. Judd Gregg recently held up a chart on the Senate floor showing that Mr. Obama would increase the deficit — but failed to mention that much of the increase stemmed from extending Bush policies. In fact, unlike Mr. Obama, Republicans favor extending all the Bush tax cuts, which will send the deficit higher.

Republican leaders in the House, meanwhile, announced a plan last week to cut spending by $75 billion a year. But they made specific suggestions adding up to meager $5 billion. The remaining $70 billion was left vague. “The G.O.P. is not serious about cutting down spending,” the conservative Cato Institute concluded.

What, then, will happen?

“Things will get worse gradually,” Mr. Auerbach predicts, “unless they get worse quickly.” Either a solution will be put off, or foreign lenders, spooked by the rising debt, will send interest rates higher and create a crisis.

The solution, though, is no mystery. It will involve some combination of tax increases and spending cuts. And it won’t be limited to pay-as-you-go rules, tax increases on somebody else, or a crackdown on waste, fraud and abuse. Your taxes will probably go up, and some government programs you favor will become less generous.

That is the legacy of our trillion-dollar deficits. Erasing them will be one of the great political issues of the coming decade.

 
June 10, 2009
About New York

Albany Drama Is Tragedy and Farce

His cronies stole food meant for poor, sick people and gave it out at his political rallies. He owes the city $61,750 in fines for fraudulent campaign fund-raising going back to 2001. He has failed to file 41 reports with the State Board of Elections, and has racked up $13,553 in penalties since 2002. He does not have an office in the district he was elected to represent in the Bronx. In fact, it looks as if he doesn’t even live there.

Ladies and Gentlemen:

The newly anointed president pro tempore of the New York State Senate.

The governor-in-waiting should something happen to David Paterson.

A man who could not be bought, cheaply.

State Senator Pedro Espada Jr.!

Mr. Espada and another state senator, Hiram Monserrate — who, perhaps it goes without saying, is under indictment in a domestic violence case — changed the power balance in the State Senate on Monday by jumping from the Democratic side to the Republican.

“Today will be remembered in state history as a day when real change and real reform began and dysfunction ended,” said Senator Dean G. Skelos, a Republican from Long Island who became the majority leader, thanks to the shifts by Mr. Espada and Mr. Monserrate.

Really, he said that.

Previously, the Democrats had bought the support of Mr. Espada and Mr. Monserrate with committee chairmanships and various promises of pork. In March, Mr. Espada and his allies set up two corporations for which he demanded $2 million in member items (member items = Albany euphemism for pork). The Democrats wouldn’t give the money to those corporations.

Now Mr. Espada has made friends with the Republicans, and has given them back the majority in the Senate. They, in turn, have made him president pro tempore and, quite possibly, have agreed to other stuff that no one knows about yet, since this new galaxy of “real change and reform” is only now being created.

The president pro tempore is a job no one would hear much about if the state had a lieutenant governor, which at the moment it does not. The last one, Mr. Paterson, was promoted to governor when Eliot Spitzer got caught buying sex. So next in line to the governor is this president pro tempore.

Until Monday, the president pro tempore of the Senate was the Democratic majority leader, Malcolm A. Smith. Last month, he declared that Mr. Espada had one week to take care of his campaign finance reports with the state.

Both men proceeded to do nothing.

Now Mr. Smith says the Republican coup that took away his job was “illegal and unlawful.” How come? Apparently, it was unfair of the Republicans to buy two senators whom the Democrats had already paid for, fair and square. And the Democrats tried to stop the uprising by turning off the cameras in the Senate chamber, apparently not having heard that the revolution will not be televised.

MEANWHILE, what does this mean to the Bronx, where Mr. Espada owns a cooperative apartment on 201st Street in the Bedford Park section? Probably not much. His cars are registered at a house in Mamaroneck; he has signed an affidavit saying he lives in Mamaroneck; his bank statements go to Mamaroneck; he has said that’s the home his wife wants to live in. However, last year, when he ran for the State Senate and his Bronx residency was challenged, a court-appointed referee ruled that all his Mamaroneck connections did not amount to proof that he did not intend to return to the apartment in the Bronx, the standard under the election law.

“In theory, it should be a wonderful opportunity to have a high-ranking official here,” said Erin Cicalese, who lives in the building on 201st Street. “I’m a stay-at-home mom, and I have never seen him here in the building.”

Ms. Cicalese and her husband, Lou Cicalese, a teacher, write a blog that has been scathing about Mr. Espada.

“We’ve asked him a couple of times to speak at Bedford Moshulu Community Association, but he’s never shown up,” Ms. Cicalese said. On the blog, she writes, “I’d advocate protesting outside Mr. Espada’s district office but, alas, he still doesn’t have one open.”

Mr. Espada recently explained to The Riverdale Press that he did not have time to open a community office because he had so many important jobs working with the Albany Democratic leadership. Now, he has become the essential man to the Republicans.

And suddenly, New York State has very good reason to wish for David Paterson’s continuing good health.

E-mail: dwyer@nytimes.com

 


Sunday, June 07, 2009

Currently
Securing the City: Inside America's Best Counterterror Force--The NYPD
By Christopher Dickey
see related

"[T]here was a joke commonly heard among Muslims that went like this: George Bush and Tony Blair are in a corner at a G-8 conference, laughing at a private joke. Condoleezza Rice comes up and asks what it was. 'We were just discussing World War III,' says Mr. Blair. 'It would kill a billion Muslims and one dentist,' says Mr. Bush. 'Why a dentist?' asks Ms. Rice. 'See,' says Mr. Bush to Mr. Blair, 'I told you no one would care about the Muslims.'"

- "Forceful Words and Fateful Realities," New York Times June 7, 2009 Wk 4


torture1

torture3

torture2

- Reflection -

I think it will take generations for Americans to understand how world-changing President Obama's speech was at Cairo University was last Thursday. From a practical perspective (as opposed to a social-cultural perspective) I think it may be the most important speech of my lifetime so far. On the one hand, I'm inspired and kind of awed at the sophistication, insight, and empathy reflected in the speech. On the other, it really saddens me that the vast majority of Americans will likely be unable to even recognize major, fundamental issues addressed in the speech. It's not that Americans may disagree with what President Obama said, but rather they won't even understand the problems that he sought to address.

I recently read Chris Dickey's book on the NYPD's response to September 11, "Securing the City." While Dickey's writing could be a lot tighter, the book provides a number of very thoughtful, well-researched insights into what we, as a country, have done right and what done wrong in the last eight years.

First, and foremost, Dickey emphasizes that Americans need to understand the importance of how we are perceived in the world. This isn't a "soft" issue, like a vague concern about "respect" or "stature." This is even bigger than an economic issue. It is the flat out, number one issue affecting the safety of Americans here, and abroad, with respect to attacks from individual actors from other nations. It's more important to our safety than having troops abroad or even metal detectors in airports.

Look at it this way: the most frightening thing about September 11 is that the weapons used in the attack were so easily obtained. What did the attackers need? A few airline tickets. Flight training that you could learn from a computer simulator. Boxcutters. A high school student with her father's credit card could put all of this back together. So we can monitor bomb-making ingredients, put up metal detectors, watch finances -- and we should -- but this is no way that any government could have caught these inputs or will be able to do so in the future.

There was only one thing that the September 11 attacks required that should be very, very rare: men that were willing to sacrifice their lives in order to hurt us. That's what the Cairo speech seeks to limit.

The knee-jerk, thoughtless reaction is simply to say, "they hate us," without any exploration as to why that is or what we can do to change that situation. And that's the model under which we've operated for the last eight years. But despite what horrible misconceptions people may have about Muslims, since the days of Jeremy Bentham, we have accepted that all men are, at their most basic, pleasure-seeking, pain-avoiding creatures. So if someone is willing to die in order to strike at us, we should take a good, hard look at why they are willing to sacrifice so much to hurt us.

The Cairo speech reflects an entirely different approach -- it shows that we understand how the world sees us and how we contribute to and can greatly influence this perception.

I once read a poker essay by David Mamet in which he explains that most people think that poker is about "reading" the other players at the table: Who's tough? Who's weak? Who can I bully and frighten out of big pots? Mamet explains, though, that what's ultimately so much more important is not our reads of other people, but rather understanding THEIR reads of us. In other words, can we understand how we are perceived at the table? Do they think we are playing them cautiously? Do they think we are arrogant and will casually disregard their bets?

That, ultimately, explains at least 50% of how these people will act when the engage with us. It may sound like a subtle distinction, but it's actually pretty huge. How often have you left a discussion, thinking: When I spoke, I was trying to communicate X idea. But, from the other person's perspective, what did they hear?

Even if we understand the signals that we're trying to put into our communications, which is a step in itself, it's a much larger step to understand if (a) these signals were communicated and (b) how the signals were perceived by the other person. This requires thoughtfulness and empathy -- two qualities that Americans not only struggle with, but have even come to deride in public debates.

The Dickey book did an excellent job of helping me understand how we, Americans, are perceived by the Muslim world. And it's clear that for the last eight years we have almost prided ourselves that our unilateral actions did not consider, at all, for what people around the world thought about us. Dickey, for example, takes us through America's long history with countries like Libya and Iran, showing how our actions there seeded resentment, hostility, and most importantly, a feeling of powerless and an inability to participate in certain segments of the world. This powerlessness is ultimately the key because, as Dickey shows, if someone feels that they can get a halfway decent job, even if they have to work their ass off, that person is pretty unlikely to blow himself. It's only when people feel that they have no options, whatsoever, that they embrace the ultimate one. (For example, did you know that an increased number of immigrants in your neighborhood, even illegal immigrants, actually leads to lower crime? This is theoretically because immigrants best realize that if they work, they will succeed. And they'd rather work than take risks that could jeopardize those opportunities.)

Dickey shows how we totally botched the world's perception of us after September 11th. We had actually caught all of the primary bad actors that took part in the actual logistics and planning of the attack in just a few weeks. We could have ended the public campaign there, quietly. But instead, we declare a neverending "War on Terror," quickly label three countries that had nothing to do with September 11 the "Axis of Evil," and we invade Iraq -- which had nothing to do with September 11, whatsoever. The images of the civilians that we bombed spread around the world as we invaded. Stories of American servicemen gang-raping and killing Iraqi civilians, sometimes even children, spread around the world. American civilian contractors that allegedly gang-raped Americans and indiscriminately killed Iraqi civilians are deemed above prosecution. And after we occupied, we parade the bodies of Hussein's sons like cheap stuffed trophies. Video of a kangaroo court hanging Saddam Hussein leaks out. And images of the atrocities at Abu Ghraib spread all over the world. All of this colored how people saw the United States -- except for within our country itself, where the news and pictures made little impact.

Seriously, ask ten people on the street what Abu Ghraib is, and I would wager that no more than two or three can explain what it was. They certainly would only remember one or two images from those were released. In the Muslim world, however, the public is intimately familiar with those images because they were all over the world press.

For example, look at these (NSFW):

Gallery 1

Gallery 2

Can you imagine what how Americans would feel if we saw pictures of Muslims doing this to Americans? Can you imagine the garbage they'd be saying on Fox News? And these aren't even the worst of it. There are apparently 2,000 more pictures of men raping female prisoners, men raping male prisoners, people raping children, torture, outright homicide (the last set of pictures already included pictures of American soldiers smiling and posing with "thumbs up", beside the dead bodies of their prisoners), and sodomy by wire, truncheon, and phosphorescent tubes.

Can you imagine how a regular American would feel if he saw pictures of his brother or his mother being raped by smiling soldiers with phosphorescent tubes? (As a snarky aside, I'm perpetually irritable about the fact that this kind of empathy should be what American Christians are best at, given what all the Red Text says. But for some reason, they're the ones that have the most difficulty empathizing for others). Yet for some reason, we can't see these pictures and understand how others would feel. Most of us don't even remember these pictures.

Anyway, the Cairo Speech shows that we now have leadership that understands how we are perceived in the world. We are also willing to take some responsibility for how we are perceived. This may seem like a small step. And it's definitely tentative as so many things could go wrong. But I do think it's an important, bold step in the right direction. And it plants seeds that could prove to be the world.

2008.06.05

2007.06.05

2006.05.25

2005.06.05

2004.06.07









Wednesday, June 03, 2009

Currently
The Nine: Inside the Secret World of the Supreme Court
By Jeffrey Toobin
see related

- Far Too Many Words -

About three weeks ago, I was crossing the street about a block from my house when I was hit by a GMC Suburban. I had the right of way on a well-lit, busy street, but the driver later told the police that he didn't see me because it was late at night and raining. I actually didn't see the truck coming until it was right about to hit me. I clearly had the Walk signal long before I stepped out onto the street and I had checked my corners before stepping off the curb, so I didn't at all expect something to come in on me when I was well into the street. All I remember was my deer-in-the-headlights response as I turned my head, lifted up my left arm, and saw the two headlights of a vehicle coming in on me. I distinctly thought to myself: this is actually happening -- I am about to be hit by a car. The only thing I remember about the vehicle itself was that it was white.

My next memory is of the paramedics working on me, either in the street or in the ambulance. I couldn't see anything, but that fact never struck me as odd until I'm writing this now. The medics later told my wife that I was repeating myself -- I would state, over and over again, some combination of my wife's telephone number, my address, the date, my social security number, and the fact that I could wiggle my fingers and toes. I don't remember the conversation that I had with my wife when she arrived on the scene, but she says that I couldn't remember where I was going when I left the house that night. She would say, "You were going to Jimmy's birthday party." And I would say, "Jimmy? Who's Jimmy?" She later told me that when she got to the corner, the truck was in the crosswalk, where I originally was, and I was about fifteen feet down the street.

Looking back, I'm surprised that I wasn't more frightened at the time, particularly because I do remember that my major priorities were trying to determine whether (a) I was paralyzed and (b) whether my brain would be able to function at a high level in the future. When I was a kid and first learned to drive, I rear-ended a car on a rainy afternoon. No one was hurt and you couldn't see any damage to either vehicle. But I totally flipped my shit, locking myself in my room that night, because I was so upset. In comparison, as the medics cut off my coat and my jeans to start working on me, I resigned myself to the situation, just as a few minutes earlier, I had resigned myself to the fact that I was about to be hit by a car. I did feel that some kind of safety net had been pierced, like I just broke the glass on a fire alarm or stepped behind a curtain. In that regard, I accepted that I was entering a penumbral segment of the world that, all things considered, most people avoided and didn't have a sense for, if all things went well. But outside of that, I accepted the fact that I would just have to be patient and hope for the best.

I remember that as one of the medics was pulling off my boots, I was thinking about my father. About a year after my mother passed, he told me that sitting in his empty house, he looked back at his life with her and could only think of it as a dream. When she was with him, he had taken for granted the fact that their time together was limited. And after she was gone longer and longer, he could remember less and less of that time together. He just knew that it was an entirely different world, in substance, in color, in flavor, in every way possible, from the world in which he lived today. It was so different to him that it almost seemed as if it weren't real.

As I lay there, I wondered if this was my moment to step out of my dream. I thought about all of the things that I loved about my life -- lazy afternoons with my wife, a surprise party that she threw for my thirtieth birthday where I was just surrounded with wonderful people that I loved, my family, my dogs, and even my career (who knew I loved my career?). And I felt that vision of my life start to rise up out my body and possibly dissolve in the air. I wondered if I would be able to walk again; if I would be able to read or think again. Would I only get these two or three good years with my wife? I remember thinking that, if it was all I would get, I'd be disappointed, but would be glad for those years nonetheless.

The good news is that, flash forward less than three weeks later, I'm pretty fine and am ready to get back into the swing of things. By some weird happenstance, I don't have a scratch on me from the neck down. But my head took a pretty bad hit. The worst of my injuries is a set of facial fractures. In that regard, I have fractures in the roofs of both orbits of my eyes, as well as the bones behind both eyes. About an inch above your eyebrows, there's a cavity in your skull called the front sinus. I have fractures in the front of my front sinus, as well as the back of my front sinus. All my fractures are defined as "minimally displaced," meaning that none of the bones are set apart from each other by more than four millimeters. In addition to the fractures, I had a broken tooth, a tear in the leathery sack that holds my brain (evidenced by my dripping brain and spinal fluid out of my nose via the sinus fractures), a small concussion, and a very minor subdural hematoma, meaning that I had a very small amount of blood and fluid in my brain. I also took a ton of stitches to my forehead. The doctors had to stitch up the muscle beneath my face, the skin on top of the muscle, and then the skin on top of my face. When a plastic surgeon friend of my wife's took the stitches from the top layer out last week, he counted about sixteen. I've got a nice scar about the length of my thumb from the tip of one eyebrow to above the middle of the other. Although that list of maladies is kind of long, it's not severe and is certainly not life-threatening. Knocking on wood, the few things that could have gotten really bad -- brain infection via my drippy brain-nose, primarily -- didn't go bad. So in total, I'm really thankful that my injuries are limited to what they are. I can walk; my eyes work; the dentist made me a new tooth; and I'm able to read and concentrate longer and longer throughout the day.

I joke that if you have to be hit by a truck, this is the way to do it. But really, it's kind of true. The accident has mainly left me full of gratitude and humility. I am thankful for so many things that it's hard to keep track. To begin with, I'm thankful for my wife and my time with her, my dogs, my parents, my sisters, my friends, various medical professionals, and, surprisingly, my co-workers . . . but it's a lot of things. I guess, using my father's expression, I'm thankful that I have the ability to dream a little bit more. And in that light, when I look back at this experience, I'm kind of surprised that being hit by a truck doesn't make my top ten list of "shitty things in my life." It sucks, don't get me wrong, but in the grand scheme of things, it will pass. I haven't put too much thought into it, but my shit list would likely be made of things that I can't get back: my mother's passing; hurtful things that I've said to my loved ones, whether they were intentional or just plain thoughtless; not taking more risks with my career early in life, etc. But this accident, this truck thing, it will pass.

Anyway, that shit list is for another day. My list, today, is as follows (in no particular order):

1. I was really surprised by how genuine I feel the response from my firm has been. I've received emails, cards, and deliveries from all kinds of different pockets of the firm, from the Chair of the office, to the Litigation Department Head, to paralegals and secretaries that I don't even work with. I was most touched by a care package that was sent from one of my recent litigation teams, because it reflected a lot of thought and care. They went to a bookstore and filled a document box with poker books, football books, the new John Grisham "New York BigLaw" book, DVDs, and games that they thought that I would enjoy. And they pretty much nailed it.

I guess it goes to show that you get what you invest. In that, I mean that I went to war with that team earlier this year. For a solid three months, I don't think any of us left before ten on a weekday or before six on a weekend, without taking any days off. But, because we bled together, and more importantly, relied on each other, I feel that we developed a genuine affection for each other. Similarly, I've bled for each of the partners that reached out to me.

One of my favorite professors in law school, who is now counsel for the NYPD, gave us words of advice on our last day of class. The thing that I took away was that in our choice of profession, we're going to spend more time with our co-workers than our families, particularly if we want to be excellent at what we do. So it's important to surround ourselves with people that we love -- he actually used that word, love.

Anyway, I'm grateful that I can look back at my time with this firm, and the people with whom I have worked, with affection. When I left my old firm for this one, this was the only firm to which I applied. It was the pie in the sky for me, my first priority. I knew that, if accepted, I would have to work much harder and I didn't know if I would make the cut. But I knew that, whether I sank or swam, the firm would make me a much better attorney because I would have at least attempted to make it at what I perceived to be the highest levels of firm work. In a worst case scenario, I would wash out. In a best case scenario, I hoped to last another two years in big firms, making five in total, before transitioning out to the public sector.

Last year, the firm held its annual meeting for minority attorneys in San Francisco. One of the most respected Securities Litigation partners that we have, a gay latina, spoke about how she, for years, went to work every day worried that she would be fired that day. That really resonated with me, because I've pretty much felt the same way for my five years of practicing law (this is one of my reasons why I've never really decorated my office).

Anyway, next month marks the end of my second year with this firm. And while I refuse to let go of my "today I could be fired" fears, I am thankful to have received very strong attorney evaluations from a wide set of attorneys and teams. And after this experience, I'm thankful to recognize a personal affection for the people with whom I work. I do feel that it's likely time to move on, in the sense that I tend to look at my time at the firm reflectively, as opposed to prospectively. But I'm thankful that, if and when that time comes, it will hopefully be on my terms.

2. A while ago, I joked with my wife that, that day, I finally recognized that she was the woman for me. That was about a year after we'd been married. It was a dumb joke, but there's truth to it. In that regard, I think it's very difficult to know anything with certainty in life. Take poker for instance. You may have two Aces in your hand, meaning that you have the strongest starting cards of anyone at the table. It's a hand that is so good that you are dealt it only one half of one percent of the time. Yet if you face off with any other pair of cards in the deck, you only have, at best, only an 80% chance of winning. Does this mean that you don't play your cards aggressively? Generally, no. You still push, because it's the best that you're going to get. But you have to accept the fact that, one in five times, you're going to get busted. Similarly, Bill Walsh once said that 20% of football was completely up to chance. So all you can do is control the things that you can control, execute perfectly, and hope for the best. (Robert Rubin addresses this really well, in his memoir "An Uncertain World," given to me by a good friend of mine (and also a poker player).)

So with my wife, there were a lot of uncertainties before we got married. And our marriage is not an easy one, in that if we each wanted a less stressful relationship with more material wealth or social status, we could, and should, have taken other roads. But we didn't, because we had other priorities. I'll be honest, I still can't put my finger on the qualities about my wife that I think are so special. But when we were married, I thought that they were there. And, as we grow in our relationship, I have learned to have faith in the fact that they are there. I still can't quite name or otherwise identify them, and trust me -- I've spent a lot of time thinking about this. Without meaning to sound sacrilegious, I often am reminded of C.S. Lewis's analogy about the sun: It's not that I can see it. But through it, I see the world. It's like how I always wanted a wife that would make me a better person, but I never realized or appreciated the ways that I could (and should) be better. In shorthand, I have to admit, that deep down, she reminds me of my mother. And, perhaps, that is sufficient enough description.

All I know is that my wife was absolutely gangbusters after the accident. She handled everything -- from doctors, to insurance, to lawyers, to work, to my friends, to my family, to the cooking, to the cleaning, to taking care of me -- pretty much by herself, with such incredible strength and grace. I am so thankful for and impressed by her. And I cannot imagine anyone I know, anyone, handling things better.

Thomas Carlyle once said, "No pressure, no diamonds." To some degree, our marriage has been bonded in a forge. We've had to deal with sickness and death in our families, financial concerns for our family members, legal issues for our loved ones, changes in each of our professional careers, and now this -- and we've only been married for less than three years. I hate to think that it takes my getting hit by a truck for us to develop our marriage bonds. But I do feel, with certainty, that I was right to go all-in. It's gratifying to know that I gambled correctly.

3. The flip side of the uncertainty issue that was also impressed on me is that sometimes you can do everything right and still lose. Life can just be horribly unfair that way. In that regard, I had the light. I checked my corners. Looking back, I did all the practical things that a reasonable person should do before I stepped out into the street. I certainly had the legal right of the way. And then I still got hit by a truck.

Maybe this illustrates the lack of good fortune in my marriage, but my wife was in a similar accident long before we met. She was driving and had a green light. A group of teenagers were traveling perpendicular to her at the intersection. They say that say they didn't see the traffic light. Either way, they blew through their red light at full speed, T-boning my wife's car on the driver's side. Her car was flipped over and destroyed.

She was lucky to not require surgery, but she had to re-learn to walk. And even literally today, she's got a doctor's appointment for severe back and nerve pain. She had done everything correctly and still suffered enormously.

4. My father used to tease me when I was a kid, saying that I'd appreciate the things that he did as a father more and more as I grow older. I'm only in the fumbling beginnings of understanding his perspective, but I do think that he was right.

When speaking with my father about the accident, I tried to wage a subtle public relations campaign to minimize his concerns. I asked each of my family members to explain to him how well I was doing and how he shouldn't worry and certainly shouldn't travel up to see us. I asked them to politely explain that a visit from him, given our small apartment and dogs, might be more stressful to me and my wife than anything else. And when we communicated with him, I made a point of speaking on the phone with him, to show that I was doing well, whereas my wife handled communicating with everyone else.

Needless to say, we got an email the day after the accident that was nothing more than his flight itinerary, showing that he would be visiting my wife and me for about a week.

Irrational unilateral action, simply in the name of action, is essentially my dad's calling card. For example, when my mother was visiting doctors in Texas, my father insisted on driving back and forth from Mississippi to Houston multiple times in just a few weeks, instead of making the sensible choice to get a hotel and spend five days in Houston between her visits. That much driving would be exhausting to just about anyone, but it wrecked that 68 year old man and his terminally ill 66 year old wife. Similarly, when my parents moved to California for hospice care, after my family had numerous discussions and arguments on the subject, my father broke a hotly-negotiated agreement with us and flew home to Mississippi to drive cross-country back to California, simply because he felt that he and my mother needed their car.

So when we got this latest email, I essentially rolled my eyes and picked up the phone to try to talk him down. This time, though, my father was not his usual defiant self. He simply said, "I need to see my son," with an urgency that I don't ever recall him voicing. Beginning to understand my father, I changed my tone and thanked him for his thoughtfulness. I told him that we would welcome his help and looked forward to seeing him.

5. I'm kind of amazed at how the body protects itself. Of course, the body can go wrong, as illustrated by the many different types of cancer out there. But I was really so amazed at how my body reacted to the trauma of the hit and brought me through the healing process. For example, outside of topical anesthetics for my stitches, I didn't take any pain medication for about the first day after the accident. This is despite the fact that all of my teeth were loose and I had multiple facial fractures. Now a day later, of course, I was literally setting an alarm that would wake me for my pain pills. But it's kind of crazy to me that I didn't feel anything for the first day.

Similarly, my entire face swoll up after the accident -- to the point that my eyes were practically swollen shut. And my lips, in just a few hours after the hit, became incredibly leathery and chapped. I was unrecognizable.

Now, the swelling's down, and leathery pieces of skin have fallen off of various parties of my body. And all I have left is a pretty unattractive scar across my forehead that makes me look like a cross between Harry Potter and Dr. Evil.

6. Words really can't express how thankful I am for the friends that I have in my life. There have been a number of surprises. My best friends literally surprised me by coming to the hospital the day after the accident. Even more surprising was the friends that I didn't think I was that close with, who stood up to be amongst the most steadfast supporters of me and my wife. Similarly, some of my wife's friends took days off to spend time with us in the hospital and drive us home. My cousin worked out of my apartment, to keep our dogs company. And a group of my friends recently came over and did our grocery shopping for us (my wife had thrown out her back and I can't carry anything until the facial fractures heal). As silly as I felt, having three young professionals with a combined income of about a half-million dollars and one top-secret security clearance, carrying my groceries, I was just so humbled that they would do that for my wife and me.

Perhaps most importantly, one of our friends pretty much saved my life. When I was taken to the emergency room in Elmhurst, the facility didn't have any available beds. Two trauma centers have recently been closed in Queens. That, combined with H1N1 flu fears and the economic collapse, essentially meant that Elmhurst's ER was overwhelmed. When I was being stitched up, I could hear a man next to me who was holding his face together after a knife attack. He told the police that he had twenty beers before the fight. A woman nearby was screaming that her bone had broken through her leg. Another man next to me was being watched by police, as he was handcuffed to his bed. After my CT, the doctors wheeled me into a hallway where my friends said there were at least fifty other patients pushed together. My wife, at one point, couldn't find me.

Ultimately, Elmhurst's physicans mentioned that they were planning on discharging me, because they didn't have an empty room to keep me overnight. At that point, the single CT hadn't identified a number of my facial fractures and the doctors thought that I had a spot of blood in my brain.

My wife was in the hospital with her best friend and her best friend's boyfriend, the closest thing that my wife has to extended family in the city. This best friend's boyfriend is a neurology fellow at a nearby hospital and a frequent drinking partner of mine (you know how wives will set their husbands up on dates? He's my frequent man-date). I'd never seen my friend in his working environment before, but he was like superman. He had me transferred to his hospital, where I stayed overnight, met with other physicians, and had additional scans. That's where they ruled out the blood spot, but identified the hematoma, identified additional facial fractures, and, most importantly, observed the cf drip, my most life-threatening issue (the drainage of spinal/brain fluid through the sinus fractures and out my nose). My friend actually got out of bed later that night to read additional research and call the hospital to change my IV drip and two in the morning to an antibiotic that would better penetrate the blood-brain barrier. And in the morning, he took the time to walk through my scans and the radiology reports with me, showing me what my fractures looked like.

Like I said, he saved my life. It's nuts.

I think that "humbling" is the best way to describe my reaction to all of this. Because I'm reminded of not just the great things that my friends have done for me, but also the fact that I'm surrounded by such great people. I'm really fortunate to call these people my friends. I feel that these people literally shine on me. And it's, well, humbling, to think that there's really nothing that I can think of to offer to come close to repaying them for their friendship.

7. After being discharged, my follow-up appointments have given me renewed appreciation for the importance of universal health care. Once I left the emergency room, my wife and I were kind of distraught to realize that no one was quarterbacking our health care. Sure, we had doctor friends that were more than happy to provide their input or write us referrals. But no one really had a game plan about what doctors we should see, what kind of timetables we should use, or anything like that, because all of the treatment was focused on handling specific symptoms, like a blind man touching only the legs or tail of an elephant, and then heading on to the next patient. At one point, my wife and I were literally sitting at the kitchen table, saying, "I guess we should see an ophthalmologist to make sure my eyes work correctly? And we'll need to call a dentist to fix this tooth and check the others? Oh, who should we call to get new glasses? Which appointment should come first? Oh, and I guess we'll need an ENT to look at the fractures? And we'll need to find someone to take these stitches out?"

The only person that gave advice on the complete medical treatment was the only person whose opinion I thought was significantly biased enough for me to disregard -- the attorney we'd brought on to handle our no-fault insurance filings. Of course, he had a whole list of doctors for me to see. But, of course, all of these doctors would be making judgment calls that were biased towards more medical treatment, which I absolutely didn't want.

Perhaps the most appalling part of this process was realizing how few physicians, much less reputable physicians, accept no-fault insurance, the insurance policy that necessarily comes into play when you're in a motor vehicle accident. My wife and I naively called all 41 listings on New York Magazine's list of preferred ENTs -- not a single one accepted no-fault insurance, I assume because of fraud and payment issues. Okay fine. Maybe that's understandable because these are "fancy" doctors. But then I called NYU Medical's physician referral service. They couldn't identify anyone that accepted no-fault. I called Sinai's physician referral service. No one. Beth Israel's referral service similarly came up empty. Google searches only produced misleading web sites of smarmy plaintiffs' firms. We even called auto insurers asking for referrals and struck out. It's amazing that there doesn't appear to be any resource or directory, compiled by the city or some kind of non-profit, that lists no-fault doctors.

Anyway, my wife and I were able to navigate this process because we have a lot of well-connected good doctor friends. Also, we eventually gave up on no-fault insurance and started using my regular health and dental insurance, which is top-flight. So I saw all the doctors that I needed to see and have a couple of follow-up scans scheduled in a few weeks. My dentist even made me a new tooth the morning I went to see him -- it was straight up the Bionic Man or something.

I'm left thinking, though, that my wife and I are pretty well-educated, affluent, well-connected, insured people. And yet this process was incredibly difficult to navigate before we gave up on the no-fault insurance scheme. I can't imagine what it would be like if we were uninsured, were uneducated, or didn't speak English. There are little to no resources out there -- even when we were entitled to payment through the no-fault insurance scheme.

This is particularly sad to me because, deep down, our policy makers and voters have to realize that everyone, at some point in time, will have to make use of our medical system. In this case we're not even talking about working with patients that are trying to game the system -- they have been struck by cars and have a right to be treated and compensated for by the insurance company of the person that hit them. Our policy makers have to be aware of how impenetrable the system is for all but the most well-connected people. Yet, the system is still so broken. I know that there are so many difficult structural changes involved, but I'm left feeling that it's simply a lack of empathy that allows such a pervasive problem to exist. In other words, powerful and rich people know that everyone, at some point, will need to go through this process. And they know that for everyone, but the powerful and rich, will likely not able to make it through the system. Yet no one cares enough to make any changes. That saddens me.

8. Finally, the one happy observation I had about our medical system was that I was really impressed by the quality, character, and even demeanor of each of the emergency personnel that saved my life. The paramedics that treated me in the street were kind to not just me, but also my wife. She, sadly and understandably, was hysterical when she first saw me unconscious and covered in blood. But they talked her through the process and let her ride along in the ambulance (though they insisted that she sit in the front). The same group of medics apparently made a number of return trips to the emergency room, bringing in other patients that night. She said that each time, they made of point of stopping by to see how she and I were doing.

Similarly, the policemen that arrived on the scene took the time to come to the emergency room to get my version of the facts. They had to wait for me to clear the first round of sonograms, x-rays, and CT's and then wait another couple of hours as an oral maxillary facial surgeon stitched my muscle and face back together. They were polite and patient with both me and my wife. And the police report is pretty clean and descriptive.

The surgeon that worked on me was a good guy that I imagine would get along with a number of my friends. We spent the time that he worked on me talking about young marriages, work, and Chic Fil-A.

The list goes on and on -- the paramedics that arrived to transport me from the ER to my friend's hospital had to wait as the doctors and administrators botched my medical records and then argued about the required releases for my transport. And, despite the fact that we didn't leave the hospital until after the sun rose, they were cheerful and kind.

- ~ -

I guess those medics kind of sum up my thoughts on my past few weeks. As is probably obvious, I've written this gargantuan essay to both record and also try to understand how I'm reacting to the accident -- to some degree, that's what I've used this blog for for the last six years. I'm hoping to return to work in a few days, maybe even tomorrow, so I wanted to take the time to put my thoughts down, all of them, before I take things for granted and get swept up in the mindless business of my normal life.

So I guess my reaction is that I'm thankful and I'm humble. Despite the fact that the world can fuck me up even when I'm doing everything that I should, I am thankful that there is this uncountable world of people -- friends that I hold close, friends that I haven't appreciated or acknowledged, family, and strangers -- that stepped forward without any question or pause to lift me up, shine their lights on me, save my life, and heal me. And I guess I'm humbled to think that these people do this every day, day and night, for me and, hopefully, many other people, despite the fact that I rarely even recognize their efforts.

I am thankful. And I am humble.

2008.06.03

2007.05.31

2006.05.31

2005.05.30

2004.06.03






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