When Governor Sarah Palin was nominated to be John McCain’s running mate, I mentioned to a friend that she would have every aspect of her life flyspecked. He said that she had already been Governor, so there wasn’t much not known about her. I said, “Wait and see, they will try to “bork” her.
I am absolutely certain that I do not want my last name to become a verb. Robert Bork had been Solicitor General, Attorney General and a judge for the US Court of Appeals for the DC Circuit. But when President Reagan nominated Bork to be a justice of the Supreme Court, the attack dogs came out. You would have thought that President Reagan had nominated a Klansman. Bork’s opposition went over every opinion he had ever written. They reviewed his speeches. They even checked on every movie he had ever rented! I guess they didn’t mind violating his individual rights in order to protect theirs.
Bork’s credentials were unimpeachable, but there were strong objections to his conservative views. He was not confirmed by the Senate and thus, the verb, to bork, came into existence.
There was a strong attempt to “bork” Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas. He was accused of sexual harassment by a subordinate, Anita Hill. In my opinion, neither his story, nor hers made a lot of sense. He was in her apartment a number of times, but there was no allegation of wrongdoing on those occasions. Plus, she followed him from one job to another, and even after she quit working for him, she still made personal calls to him. Not the normal activity of someone who has been sexually harassed. Thomas was confirmed by the Senate.
Now, it is Sarah’s turn. In their effort to find something on Sarah, we’ve got “wardrobegate.” Supposedly, $150,000 was spent on clothing for Sarah (really about a third of that amount). Some staffer did it and went to stores she had been instructed not to go to, and now it is shame on Sarah. It all sounds kind of sexist to me, but I don’t expect the feminist movement to come out and support her. But life’s not fair and I think Sarah already knows that. She must have known they would try to “bork” her.
I got on the computer today to go to the Obama Tax Calculator. This is supposed to tell me whether I will be better off under the Obama or McCain tax proposal (key word is proposal). I found the page and put in all the financial information, but then they wanted my email address. Why? I thought the Democrats don’t believe people should have to show an ID to vote, so why do I have to give them my email address? I saw in another place on the web page that if I gave them a donation I would receive a free gift. It reminds me of the old joke, “Please write your name and address on the back of a twenty dollar bill and we will send you your free gift.”
I really didn’t need the tax calculator to know I would do better under the Obama proposal. The politician who promised a chicken in every pot lost the election, because his opponent promised two chickens in every pot. How do you think the chickens felt about all that? Well, I feel like a chicken and I am hoping that next Tuesday, I don’t feel like I have been thrown into the pot.
Monthly Archives: October 2008
The Former Springfield Mixing Bowl
Every town should have something that they are proud of. Back in the 1950’s, my home town had a large billboard as you entered town that said, “Welcome to East St. Louis. World’s Largest Hog Market.” I was impressed, but not surprised. That’s because when the wind blew from the North, you knew something big was going on.
Springfield, Virginia is a bedroom community in the greater Washington DC area. What it has been known for is nothing to be proud of. It was known for its Springfield Mixing Bowl. The Mixing Bowl was where I-95, I-495 and I-395 came together. The reason it was called the Mixing Bowl is because local traffic and interstate traffic had to fight their way across each others lanes. Long delays would build up in all directions. In the early 90’s, in one year, there were 179 accidents. That’s just about one every other day. Delays were bad without accidents. With accidents, bring your lunch. No one changed the radio station or talked on the phone while negotiation the Mixing Bowl.
During the time I worked in the Pentagon, We had to fight the Mixing Bowl every day. While driving home, South on I-95, we had to cross two lanes of interstate traffic to exit in Springfield. My carpool had strict rules for the Mixing Bowl. The driver concentrated on the traffic in front of him, never looking back. The person riding shotgun would announce when the driver could move to the right. He would announce, “one lane.” The driver would immediately pull one lane to the right. This was repeated until we were in the Springfield exit lane. The only other command for the shotgun rider was “two lanes,” but crossing two lanes at one time was considered the same as winning the lottery and was cause for celebration.
Now, the Springfield Mixing Bowl is history. Something to tell the grandchildren about. “Kids, back in 78′, your Grandpa spent four and a half hours stuck in the Mixing Bowl.” “Golly Grandpa, did they have cars back in 78′?”
Fixing the Mixing Bowl took eight years and $676 million. It was a remarkable project. In fact, I commuted to DC throughout the project and never was delayed because of construction. Confused, but never delayed. They did have to shut down major arteries about six times. But, they always did it late at night on weekends. These events, which usually involved placing huge chunks of concrete into flyovers, drew large crowds of onlookers. No, not me. I was tucked away.
Now that it is done, let me tell you my pet peeves on the project. These only apply to those of us coming out of Springfield. We are traveling East on Old Keene Mill Road heading for I-95. The I-95 intersection has everything backwards. If you want to go right (South to Richmond), you must get in the left lane. If you want to go left (North to DC), you must get in the right lane. This is just the opposite of every interstate entrance and exit you can think of.
You can say, “Well, as long as it’s clearly marked, it shouldn’t be a problem.” But, it isn’t clearly marked. In fact, it is deceptively marked! The overhead sign pointing to the lane for I-95 South is pointing at the white line between the two lanes (one lane going North, one South). That’s right, the arrow points down at the white line between the lanes. I have seen hundreds of cars change lanes at the last second. I suspect thousands have just gone in the wrong direction.
I have studied this overhead sign (I am sure the traffic engineers have too). You can’t move the sign over where it belongs, because that space is occupied by a large reinforcement to the overhead structure. I know they know of the problem, because they have painted all kinds of directional information on the roadway. Have you ever tried to read directional information on a roadway when cars are bumper to bumper? It’s tricky. It may work on the interstate, but not on Old Keene Mill Road during rush hour.
I know how to fix the problem. I have studied the sign every time I pass it. All they need to do is tilt the sign. Tilting the sign will move the arrow so it points to the correct lane! It sounds easy, but I am sure there is some regulation against tilting directional signs. Some state transportation attorney will mention the word, “liability,” and that will be the end of that. I’ve thought about doing it myself. It would probably guarantee me my 15 minutes of fame. But, I am fearful that if I get up that high, my nose will bleed.
Old Fuds and Memories
Last Thursday, the Old Fuds met on the third floor of Tony Cheng’s Restaurant in DC’s Chinatown. The Old Fuds consists of Retired Army JAGs who can still climb up to the third floor. There were about 50 of us and we do this twice a year. That is the sum and total of the physical training for a number of the Old Fuds.
We usually have a guest speaker and we buy him lunch, unless he speaks for over ten minutes. Then, he is on his own. This time, we had Royce Lamberth speak to us. He is now the Chief Judge of the US District Court for the District of Columbia. In earlier days, he was one of us. In fact, back in the early Seventies, he defended me when I was accused of trial misconduct back in Germany. I had to appear in the US District Court in Baltimore and Royce was a young JAG captain working in the Pentagon in the Litigation Division.
Back in 1969, I prosecuted a soldier named Alsop for sale and possession of hashish. Alsop was sentenced to two years in Leavenworth and a dishonorable discharge. The key witness against Alsop was a soldier named Jones, who had purchased hashish from Alsop. When Alsop’s civilian appellate attorney reviewed the case, he observed that I had dismissed the possession charge against Jones. If I had done that as part of an agreement with Jones to get him to testify, then that fact must be shared with the defense. They insisted that there had been a secret agreement between Jones and me and consequently the conviction should be thrown out.
Alsop’s case had already gone through all of its military appellate appeals when they discovered my alleged misconduct. Therefore, they filed for a writ of habeas corpus to overturn the case. I guess it is kind of obvious, since I am telling the story, that there wasn’t any misconduct or secret agreement.
The whole episode happened in Germany. Jones was stationed in Crailsheim and was suspected of using drugs. A criminal investigation detachment (CID) agent went to Jones’ unit. He was advised by the charge of quarters (CQ) that Jones was off post on a pass. The CID agent told the CQ that when Jones came in, he should be escorted over to the CID office. That is what happened and at the CID office Jones was searched. He was clean.
Then, the CQ told the CID agent that a funny thing had happened as they were walking over to the CID office. Jones had taken a Marlboro crush-proof pack out of his pocket and thrown it in a snow bank. The CID Agent told the CQ to go back and retrieve the Marlboro pack out of the snow bank. He did and surprise, surprise, it was packed full of bricks of hashish. Jones then gave up Alsop and a search of Alsop’s wall locker found enough hashish to float his entire company.
Along with being the general courts-martial prosecutor, I was the Chief of Military Justice for the 4th Armored Division. We decided to try Jones by summary court-martial. A young major (not a JAG) was assigned to be the summary court officer and to decide whether Jones was guilty. On the day of the trial, the major asked Jones how he wanted to plead. Jones said he wanted to plead guilty. The major told Jones he didn’t have to plead guilty, but could plead not guilty and require the Army to prove his guilt. So Jones said, “OK, I plead not guilty.” The summary court officer then handed Jones his confession and asked him if he signed it. Jones said he had. The summary court officer then said, “OK, I find you guilty.”
Unlike television, books and movies, in the real world you have to lay a foundation before you can accept a confession. The summary court officer needed to hear the testimony of the CID agent as to the circumstances surrounding the taking of the confession and that Jones had received his Miranda warning. He also needed to hear from the CQ to put the hashish in Jones’ hands.
I was the one who received the trial record on Jones’ conviction. It was clear that we needed to retry Jones. I can’t remember whether we were planning to use the major again or find a new summary court officer. It turned out it didn’t matter. There could be no second trial. In the time it took for all this to play out, the CQ’s enlistment had expired and he had returned to the United States (the land of round door knobs) and was no longer in the Army. We could not bring him back to Germany and the case against Jones was toast.
As I mentioned earlier, I was also the Chief of Military Justice and, in that capacity, I dismissed the charge against Jones. Wanted to prosecute him. We tried. We just screwed up. Jones was the most surprised when the charge was dismissed. Clearly there was no secret agreement.
In Baltimore, Royce explained that there were valid procedural reasons the case should be dismissed and that I probably would not have to testify. Then the judge came in and told us he had not had time to review the case and since I was present, he might as well hear from me. So, I got my chance to tell the judge what I have just told you. The opposing counsel was hearing what had happened three years before for the first time. He was not equipped to challenge it. The beauty of telling the truth is you don’t have to remember what you have previously said.
Since the trial in Germany, I had spent a year at Northwestern University getting a masters degree in criminal law, spent a year in Vietnam getting a different sort of degree and was now teaching at the JAG School in Charlottesville, Virginia. Royce called me a week after my testimony and told me the judge had dismissed the case. I was vindicated. Hooray for the good guys!
Thirty-five years later, for the first time, I saw Royce at a Vietnam Reunion. I mentioned to him that he had been my lawyer in Baltimore in 1972. He smiled and nodded his head. What does that mean? I don’t blame him if he doesn’t remember. I was the one on the hot seat. He is still one of the good guys.
My Bow Tie and The Prom
A year ago, last October, I told you about the annual Arent Fox retreat (the Prom). I mentioned we do it every year, so, hey, it’s October. Even though I am retired from the firm, Carole and I are invited to the Prom.
It was in Baltimore down by the harbor and it was great. Most of the people present see each other everyday. But, they hadn’t seen me in many moons. People were really happy to see me. Isn’t it crazy? When they saw me everyday, they didn’t give a rat. Now, that I’m retired, it’s “Hey Jack, it’s great to see you.” I got hugs from people who didn’t know my name!
About ten years ago, I thought it would be neat to tie my own bow tie. I now own two tie-your-own bow ties and I hate them both. I only go to two or three formal events a year, so I haven’t had a lot of practice. I have to get out the instructions each time. I can’t tie the tie with my glasses on and I can’t read the instructions without my glasses. It takes me 30 to 40 minutes to tie a reasonably balanced, not too sloppy bow.
The last thing I said in last years blog was that this year I would be the proud owner of a clip-on. Well, here it was the day before the Prom and I still hadn’t purchased my clip-on. I played golf on that morning, so on the way home, I swung by the Springfield Mall. I don’t like to go to the mall. People get mugged in the parking lot and about a month ago, a woman got carjacked. The bad guys took her along and there was a car crash. She and one of the bad guys were killed. So I spent 20 minutes driving around the damn place trying to find a spot that looked safe. Parking in the garage was not an option. I finally gave up and parked.
This is a big, big mall. I think at one time, it was the biggest. Now, quite a few shops are closed. People don’t think mall shopping should involve serious risk. This mall should have to put some type of a warning symbol in their parking lot. “Caution! Parking here may be hazardous to your health.” I thought I had parked close to Macy’s, but I hadn’t. It probably took me ten minutes to find Macy’s. As I entered the store, an overly effeminate guy came rushing up to me and tried to spray me with the latest fragrance. I still have my quick speed, so I got away. If it had come down to it, I think I could have taken him.
The men’s department was in the far end of the store. When I got there, I found three salespersons chatting. Business, business, what business? I asked them where their bow ties were and I was advised they didn’t carry bow ties. I inquired where I might purchase one and they, in unison, shrugged. I could tell they were well practiced at that. As I was walking out, avoiding the fragrance section, I remembered there was a tux rental place somewhere in the mall. I found it and accomplished my quest.
Attending the Prom gave me a chance to catch up with what had been going on with the Fox. When I retired, I shut down. I do go on line once a week and delete all my messages. It’s important to be tidy. One message I had read was from our chairman, Marc Fleischaker, announcing that he planned to step down at the end of the year. Well, at the Prom, he announced that he would be staying on as Chairman of the Executive Committee (if elected by the firm – duh!) for an additional year. That is great news for the Fox.
Marc also mentioned that by opening the branch in Los Angeles, we now represent more dead celebrities that any other firm. Hey, I’m serious. I don’t think I can explain this, but if you want to use the Marx Brothers or Mae West in some commercial or TV show, you better come see us. I found out we have just about tripled the number of attorneys in the LA office and we are in the process of building out again. Even in these tough economic times. Love the Fox.
I tried to avoid politics during the Prom. Most of the firm is Democrat and I am not. I’ll say this for the Democrats, even with their massive majority, they still treat we few Republicans well. If the situation were reversed, I’m not sure we would even keep them. They are excited about Obama being elected. Then, they pause and say, “I sure hope he doesn’t turn out to be another Jimmy Carter.”