Even as the practice winds up, beachlaw is doing better than ever. San Diego’s proposed ordinance to ban household furniture on the beach, while not as good as a thong story, is still ripe for the picking. I asked the question over there: has anyone really had problems with household furniture at the beach? I’m just curious.

Regardless of whether one supports the notion that judges are becoming activists promoting a specific agenda, I think it’s become clear the courts have the potential of at least picking some of the major issues for Bush and Kerry to debate (or not) this autumn.

ACLU Reveals Secret Suit Over FBI Powers

California Supreme Court to hear SF gay marriage flap May 25

Court Hears Case on U.S. Detainees

Aside from the chance that Bush/Cheney/Rumsfeld will actually, finally, capture bin Laden, I think these three cases have the best potential of grabbing the headlines away from the flacks and handlers on any given day.

With Bush’s domestic agenda seemingly focussed on his unbridled right to search things, lock people up and and generally make sure that people who don’t act and look like he does aren’t treated as he is, any one of these three topics could hopefully raise issues that will let his natural ability to insert his foot in his mouth break free. Not that I’m a fan of Kerry – I’ve seen no evidence he’s qualified to be President either. The point of this is that I am really looking forward to seeing two major party candidates have actual issues to debate rather than just nuances of fluff.

The winding up of the little law firm progresses. No client details, but a major portion of my remaining caseload went away earlier this week. It all helps lower the stress levels.

Woof. As a reminder, I turn nine in human years this Saturday. At least we think I do. I accepted Chuck as my guardian in the first week of June in 1995, and the kid who was selling me on the street corner said I was a month old, so we’ve always used May 1 to celebrate my birth. I already know what Chuck’s getting me – a trip to the beach and all the bacon I can inhale. But if any of the rest of you want to make me feel good, I feel best while sprawled on the floor with Chuck watching DVDs, so check out the Amazon wishlist and buy him something new to show me.

After a wonderful day sailing yesterday (more later maybe, especially if the pictures are good and all involved give permission to post), just bouncing around casa today. Making little Pongo clean, making the kitchen clean, trying to decide if I should just toss a match into the home office/dining room/computer nook. With all the other changes in my life the last two months, I’m definitely looking at ways to make the home office less office and more home. Getting rid of the piles of paper will be a start. I’m tired of being reminded of work even when I’m home, and an attempt to regain that separation and emotional distance was one of the big incentives for closing the practice.

SciFi has reportedly put Battlestar Galactice in production as a series to be aired in 2005. [via Looka] My biggest complaint against the miniseries was the lack of an ending, but I guess that’s not going to matter for a while now. I’m either going to have to make some geeky friends or get cable again, but I guess I have a while to decide which.

For now though, it’s Friday. One more day of work until the weekend. But in other ways it’s a first. Today will be the first day I get to drive my shiny new corporate ride to the office. Nissantruck’s getting pushed to second fiddle for a bright red Chevy Malibu obtained through the office. Shiny where it should be shiny and lots of bells and whistles. And it gets reasonable mileage! Not like the old lush Nissantruck. Hope you enjoyed the day spa, dude. It’ll be your last luxury for a long time.

Not much going on here. Work and more work. OK, there’s been a bit of play, but not nearly enough. Pongo’s recovering from the roadtrip; apparantly sticking your head out the truck window for three hours takes more out of you when you’re an old dog. My baby will be nine on May 1. That makes him really old in dog years if you believe that stuff. It also make him the mature one around here.

On the technical side, a couple of the links to other blogs were updated this morning. Minor stuff, and I’d point out which had changed, but really you should visit them all and see what the interesting people are up to.

Time to get back to the pre-work caffeination.

Just got back from a relaxing weekend in the desert, but I’d heard this one on AM talk radio during the drive, and after finding it online, had to post it.

In an unexpected and embarrassing complication from prostate cancer therapy, a Canadian was recently pulled aside by guards at a major airport and interrogated after radioactive “seeds” near his private parts set off security alarms.
…
“He was taken into a separate room where he was asked to stand against the wall and refrain from speaking while workers examined his luggage,” says the report by Hamilton doctors involved in his treatment. “Eventually, he was asked why he kept setting off the radiation detector.”

Aside from the lousy reporting, shown both by a reluctance to describe male anatomy with detail and some inaccurate technical aspects of the medical procedure, it was interesting to see the story. I just passed my six-month check up for this procedure myself, and had my implants about the same time as the man in the article.

My seeds have a radioactive half-life of about sixty days. That means that by early December, they were emitting (not leaking) at about 50% of the strength they were the day of the implants. By early February the daily radiation dose was down to about 25% of the starting level. By early April the dosage was down to about 12 1/2% of the original level, by early June I should be receiving about 6% of the starting level every day, and so on and so on. It will never go away; at some point it will just become less then the normal background radiation we all get every day. Most of the side effects have passed, and those that haven’t are pretty much just an accepted part of life now.

Some friends and I actually did joke about going to Tijuana shortly after the implants to see if I could set off the Customs inspectors’ radiation detectors. I guess now I should be glad we never went through with it. I wonder how long our this poor Canadian will have to go through this.

- Nissantruck finally returned from the day spa Tueday afternoon. Continued love has been duly purchased.

– Monday’s appointment with RadDoc was apparantly be the final appointment. I’ve been discharged from his tender care and returned to the custody of BorgHealth for future follow-ups. Medically this is a good thing; psychologically I’m not so sure.

– Trying to stay sane for another 18 hours or so, then Pongo and I are off for a little road trip. Time to decompress.

Today is one of those days when discrimination is proudly practiced in America. As I went through the grocery this afternoon, I saw the poor little ones just sitting there. They were off to the side; cast away almost like trash based solely on the color of their skin. They weren’t the popular colors. They were “different.” Pastels aren’t in after Easter. As though the chocolaty substance inside was any different. The regular red, blue and green are apparantly superior to their pastel cousins. On certain days throughout the year “seasonal colors” only earn half, if that, of what their more vibrantly-colored relations can pull in.

While I’m disgusted, disgusted I tell you, about such blatant discrimination, I also have to confess I’ve supported it in the past. Yes, just two hours ago, a lifetime to some species of fruit flies, I did a bad thing. As bad as if I’d supported artificial puppy treats or bought clothing made by oppressed people without a good media campaign. I bought the pastel M&Ms at half the price charged for their vibrant counterparts. I knew they could demand less money solely because of the color of their skin, and exploited them to the fullest extent possible.

Hopefully the chocolate fix will help me get through this period of guilt and contrition.