-The Docket-

[captain_jay_conrad]

I've found, in my line of work, that there are those who will never accept a piece of advice. It is one of those scenarios where you can see the train wreck waiting to spring forth, but no matter what you say, the client won't take the advice. That sort of thing is more taxing than I ever thought it would be. Perhaps, rather naively on my part, I thought I would grow used to it with time. That something of this nature could be shut off from being a drain, but sometimes that's just impossible.

Thankfully this happens less now that I'm in corporate law. I'm not out on the front lines as I had been during my criminal defense days. These days I mostly oversee the work of the outside counsel we contract to watch over the company's best interests. Still, every now and then, one of the cases of an individual seeking help comes up. I'm willing to help, because I don't like seeing good people get screwed by an overly complex and oft-times unfair system.

Then the facts of the case come to light, and it is a walking shit-show on stilts. A default judgment for failing to appear when a creditor had filed suit. Then having two bank accounts frozen as a result of garnishment, and the kicker, an amount in tens of thousands of dollars. These are the sorts of cases that create divorces. And, family law is something I vowed never once to touch.

Well, I offered the advice I would, and three other attorneys offered the same advice. Still, hurt and reeling from their bout of misfortune, these poor souls are still convinced they have a case, and their money is salvageable. I won't say it's impossible, but it is merely three steps to the left from it. In a case like this it is best to cut losses and attempt to negotiate a way out. But, the other side is in no mood to give up their superior position. My concern is that these souls will lose even more money trying to create a legal solution that simply isn't there.

I'm as aggressive as it comes when it comes to protecting my client's rights and interests. One doesn't become the Chief Legal Officer of several multi-million dollar companies if they don't fight. But, part of being a good practitioner is knowing when you don't have a leg to stand on, so to speak. And, that is what this case is. It's a losing situation no matter what.

It's also a situation where the client is going to be pissed no matter what the outcome is. There is fighting for a purpose, and then there is fighting just to fight. The former serves a purpose. While the latter just digs a hole deeper. There's no damned sense in digging oneself into a deeper hole.

Yet, when certain clients get an idea in their head, there's no shaking them from it. They fixate and obsess over it. The wound to their pride begins to fester, and they can't let it go. That is the point where you cut ties from it. Pursuing it further serves no purpose aside from endangering yourself, as a practitioner.

If there is something I miss from my days as a young attorney, it would have to be that hopeful outlook that I could make a difference in the system. It's quaint, almost charming in its hopeful innocence. The real world hasn't crept in yet, and the promise of glory from your days in law school are still fresh in your mind. Experience wipes that youthful outlook away. It always does.

One doesn't stop caring about the things they did when they first emerged from the hell that is law school. Nor do they necessarily change who they are. It's just a matter of maturing in the profession. Everyone has limits, and the system can never be wholly purified. This is just one of those things which never makes sense until one has experienced it.

I do wish the best for these souls. Being in a situation like theirs is never pleasant. But, when the toxic cocktail of pain and a desire for vengeance kicks in, there's no calming the beast. I have done what I can. And, there's nothing more I can do.

Is this a loss for me? In a technical sense, no. But, law cannot always be merely technical. So, for that reason, I would toss it up as a loss. It's a loss because I couldn't get the client to a position where they were satisfied enough that further harm would not ensue.

Every practitioner has moments of victory, and of defeat. No matter how many victories or successes one achieves, the bitter fruit of defeat doesn't get easier. You just get more stoic about it. Constantly pouring everything into it will merely burn you out in the long run. So, it becomes a matter of finding a way to compartmentalize it.

That's the lesson that rears itself every time something like this happens. Doesn't make it easier. Rather, it just makes it a little easier to understand. At least, to the degree that some of this bullshit can be understood. So, there's that, I suppose.

 

[captain_jay_conrad]

There are so many times when I'm left wondering whether I have lost my ability to write. It's a thought which started crossing my mind after work started becoming more intensive. I suppose part of the reason for this is because legal writing is the sort of writing that would make one wish to pluck one's eyes directly from their sockets. And, truth be told, I wouldn't blame one in the least bit for doing such. Legal writing is so fucking bland and boring there's nothing about it which could be considered even remotely entertaining--save for the odd moment where hilarity ensues because an attorney is being a complete and total jackass in their brief, memo, letter, email, death-salutation-greetings-paper.

Lord knows I'll never forgetting having to read a God-damned case involving Baskin Robbins Ice Cream, where the judge decided that it would be fun to go through 31 reasons as to why he hated the case. I'm sure I could add a tasteless pun about flavor here, but that's just not worth it. It's been thirteen years since I read that case--and, indeed, I've read a lot of shit writing since--but I still remember groaning and rolling my eyes upon reading those parched lines of pathetic ruin and monotonous prose. If ever I have had a writing-related nightmare, it's that I'd become either so jaded, spiteful, drunk, or all of the above, that my writing style would default to that of the fucking Baskin Robbins case.

The sad thing is that such an awful case never leaves your mind. It's imprinted on you like a bad hangover following a night of regretful decisions...of which seems to be many of my nights. Even now, the case name returns to me, Copeland v. Baskin Robbins USA. I can hear a screaming clown laughing in the back of my head as my fingers trail across the keyboard putting down these putrid words. I thank my lucky fucking stars that I wasn't the poor bastard called upon to recite the facts of that case, or to even acknowledge that the judge was wily enough to commit a monstrous crime against humanity--namely, stealing our perfectly fine air.

One could not be faulted for claiming that law school ruins the mind of a soul. It does. Imagine a bunch of entitled brats thrown together into the tight confines of an auditorium. Each thinks they're as smart as the other...well, I didn't think I was. I was there for the ride. My goal was to get through it, to aim towards what would come after. But, I digress. We were all thrown into the tight confines, most of us thinking we were better than our rivals (which was everyone else. And imagine how fun it was when said rivals were also lovers....) We could all agree that this case was a terrible one, and that the judge should have probably been hanged...and set on fire, for good fucking measure.

To be honest, I don't think I became such a snarky and hateful asshole until I read that case. It was sort of like stepping on a tack and the pain was great enough that it left one wishing to contract tetanus which would bring a relatively comforting death via lock-jaw. Well, maybe my imagination was and is a bit more fanciful than the circumstances required. Still, we all hated that damn case. That anus of a case would have given one lock mind, if not lock jaw. Alas, I digress again.

That's been another one of the problems that I have been suffering through of late, as well. My mind seems to jump from one tangent to the next. It probably isn't helped by the fact that I receive calls and emails all day from a various assortment of assholes who are bigger assholes than myself, bitching about things that even more trivial than thirty-one flavors of fucking ice cream. One of my para legals thinks that everyone in the office wants to fuck her, be they male, female, Canon-brand-copy-fax-machine with Mr. Coffee giving a reach around...Actually, that last scenario sounds kind of hot. Splurges of hot ink and coffee creamers just would make my day a bit more exciting...if not lead to me being disbarred. But, to each their own. Just remember the fucking copier/coffee/orgy machine from hell knows where you live via your IP provider...or something. I suppose I could say that there's never a dull moment. Just don't ask whether I'm sane. I think I lost my sanity long ago...and I wouldn't have it any other way.​

 

[captain_jay_conrad]

I suppose that at one point in time there was something more to be said about the current situation we face. Look, I've never been one who has claimed to know everything, or to have all the fucking answers. In all my life, I've never known a true miracle worker, and based on how rapidly this world is going to hell and back, that's exactly the sort of thing we're going to need. No, at this point, it really doesn't make much sense to keep harping on about what the world is seeing or doing. Each day is another day lost, each second is just one second closer to death. This is how a pessimist looks at the God-damned world, and there is nothing we can say or do that is going to change that fact. Or, at least, that's the way I felt about things for the longest time. Now, however, I don't know that I can necessarily say that this is how I feel about the world. There's too much I enjoy doing to think that it is all some irrelevant waste of time. Besides, who in God's name gave me the right to make such bold and sweeping proclamations about the sate of the world and all that's in it. No one, that's who. One can seem like they are out to slash out at the world, lashing out at every bitter ember they have encountered in their day-to-day turmoil. But, at the end of the day, what good is that? What value does that add to what we're hoping to achieve. Again, I have a feeling that the answer is nothing. A long, robust, endless strain and stream of nothing. That can't be an encouraging message for me to convey, yet it's the very same message I have provided to the world time and again. Like I said at the inception of it all, I've never known a miracle worker.

At the end of the day, what I believe this all comes down to is a willingness on the individual's part to cast aside the fears and consternation they have, to embrace a riskier side of life. Fear and timidity hold far too many people back. It paralyzes them, thereby rendering them useless in a time when they are called upon to act. In a sense, that is the real kiss of death people face in the world. Success isn't measured, per se, by hard someone works. Rarely ever is it that. To my mind, what it has always come down to is that willingness to act in a split second. Nothing is more terrifying than knowing your decision can spell the difference between absolute success for someone else, or the utter ruination of everything they have ever worked towards building. Is that power? I suppose some might consider it power. To me, it's all in a day's work. It's emotionally draining and can leave me wafting from thought to thought. However, when the moment calls for it, and the iron is hot, I don't hesitate to do my part. Perhaps there is some adrenaline that flows from it and leads me to enjoy what I do in my work. Perhaps it's something that's even simpler than that. I just enjoy seeing a task come to a logical and successful conclusion. Yet, I don't think that's really it. For there is something deeper to it. Something hypnotic, for want of a better term. If there wasn't something validating about the whole fucking thing, then I doubt I'd be willing to keep throwing myself at the task as I do. Reaching heights that I have, in as short a period of time as I have makes it all hard to believe. And, yes, there are days when it feels ephemeral, less than tangible or real. But, deep down, I know that it is.

It's that I'm walking a path I knew I could reach, but all too often it felt like it was always going to be just out of reach. Again, I know I have said it within the leaves of this journal, over and over again―to the point of it reaching ad nauseam―but, the greatest bit of advice I could ever give anyone is to never give up. Always strive to improve. If you're in a line of work that is, by its very nature, adversarial, aim to compete with yourself. For, the moment you compete with others, is the very moment that you're no longer aiming for self-improvement. In that sense, it's like my mentor told me about advocating for a client. "The moment you're not nervous about your representation, or what it is you're doing, that's the moment you need to quit, as you're not doing anybody a damn bit of good." I think he's right. It's certainly always been that way. I've never seen or known it to be different. Yet, it is the very essence of what gives me the drive, strength, and courage of conviction to keep pushing myself past what I once thought was my limit. Yet, like with anything of this nature, it's important to pace yourself as well. Burn out is a real threat, and it can be just as devastating as being ill-prepared. Perhaps, even more so. Self-awareness is part of the balance as well. All of these elements work together. It's as though this line of work is a recipe. Finding the perfect balance of ingredients is at least two-thirds of the battle.

That's about the best I can do when it comes to explaining what I'm feeling at the moment, about the day-to-day tasks I encounter. It's a test of endurance. But, for what it's worth, all of life is that. Keeping things in proper perspective will help give you the ability to overcome any singular challenge that arises in the path before you. No response or approach is perfect. That said, there is only one guaranteed path to failure...and that's failing to even try. So, keep on giving it all you've got, and make sure you're doing it to compete with yourself. Do that, and all the rest will start to fall into place.​

 

[captain_jay_conrad]

I decided to do something, this evening, which I haven't done in a long while. I put on Schubert's Complete Piano Impromptus and simply allowed my mind to unwind and relax. All this week, I have been working to finalize and probate my late uncle's will. As you might imagine, this isn't exactly the most endearing or welcomed task for me. It's been bitter sweet, to say the least, and traveling between California and my home state of Texas is not that enjoyable either. It is made a bit easier by the fact that work has had me traveling between the two states anyways. Still, I needed a moment's respite from the weight of it all and to succor my soul in a way that I don't think I've done in nearly five years.

During the time I was a student, music was a channel to my inner voice. I've always been touched by and an ardent admirer of music. Indeed, composing, listening to, or even performing music has always been a form of catharsis for me. It's a way my mother and I had bonded, and it had always served as a muse and source of inspiration for me whenever I decided to delve into any sort of creative endeavor. As the somber, poetic, and mystifying tones flowed from the Steinway concert grand, an epiphany fell upon me.

I haven't allowed myself a chance to communicate with this side of me, much less express it, for far too long. Instead of focusing on the words that I'm putting down on the page, or the structure of an idea that I wish to convey, I felt compelled to just allow my fingers to glide across the keyboard as I typed, thereby freeing my inner stream of consciousness to flow onto the page, as once it did so often. It's amazing how the words just come to my mind and my fingers dutifully put them on the page as a painter would apply the strokes of paint unto the canvas before them.

This isn't to say that my other form of writing or expressing myself is any less valid. Rather, it's that it lacked the creative free-form and lack of restraints that this style of writing avails to me. So, perhaps, in that sense I had been alienating the voice that is me, my true inner narrator. Well, tonight I'm allowing that bewildered soul to have his day. To express whatever emotion comes to mind, whether it be grandiose, pathetic, or mesmerizing. Indeed, I'll let all feelings come forth, for I have been so numb during the reflection process of what it is I have lost in first the passing of my mother, and now--some five years later--her brother.

My Uncle was the last direct connection to my mother's family--aside from my sister and myself--and now that he has passed on, I feel as though a significant part of what connected me to all that was stable, known, and comforting has flown from this earth. In its stead I am left saddened, but also distant. It's one of the most dichotomous feelings I have ever encountered in my life.

Something about it all just seems to beggar belief, leaning my mind in a state of lethargic entropy. Certain tasks are just almost too dreadful to face. It's not that I fear them, or that I'm even resentful for having to complete them. Rather, I just feel as though I have lost a part of myself, my essence, my being. It's not really the case, of course, that any of me is gone, or that I'm in the risk of losing myself to despair. After all, I have contended with loss like this before.

Instead, I think what it is that has left me feeling somewhat unsettled during this process is the realization of just how fragile mortality is. In the overarching scheme of things, a life span is a mere blink of the eye. We're born, we grow up, and inevitably we fade away. It's the process of nature, but the stark concreteness of it when facing the final closure of your maternal line is something that is so complete and final in its happening, that its reality is made all too clear. There's no sugarcoating the fact that one of the last living connections to the soul who brought me into being has been shattered forever.

If we were tethered to this world by a chain, then half the links of mine have been released into oblivion. Yet, the odd thing is, at the same time I realize that I'm still anchored in spite of the fact that they are gone. Despite the sorrow and melancholy which follows this sort of event, I already know that life shall move on, and that I shall persevere. The tangible connection may only be ethereal now. That said, it is still real, nonetheless.

Reading through the will, preparing it for it's final presentation before the court, and facing the task of bringing his last wishes to fruition, I have a renewed sense of just how precious life is. Serving in the capacity as the executor of his estate, I have assumed the mantel of a conduit to the essence he sought to leave behind, and by connection, to what my mother wished. The fact that I was entrusted with this role is also illuminating to me.

I was seen as the most able to understand and ensure that the estate would be wound down in a way most suitable to his last desires. In other words, the inherent trust that my uncle placed within me is something that humbles me in ways that I know not how to put into words. Just as our parents, aunts, and uncles always see us as the children they had known and influenced, in moments like these, my default view is always that of the younger one looking up to them. Now, I'm in the position of responsibility and influence. It's both satisfying and unsettling at the same time. For, I can no longer be the care-free youth I once was.

As ever, the weight of responsibility descends upon me, and I accept it as I must. Stoicism, if ever I could think of a way to most aptly define it. The sensation that courses through me, at the moment of drafting this, would be the perfect definition for it. I hold no resentment to this fact. There is no anger within me, no hostility. The only regret is that there wasn't more time for me to spend with him, much as I hold that same sentiment for my late mother.

Seeing as we never know when our time will come, or at least the exact moment when it will, it's so important to try and live life as much as we can. I'm going to use my uncle's inheritance to start a charity. I've already cleared it with the trust, and will be having a meeting at the start of the month with the board of directors. Since my uncle worked for an aerospace defense company, as much the same as I do...I wanted to establish a charity that seeks to assist the dependents of fallen veterans.

It seems only right that I help the same sort of people my uncle volunteered his time to help when he was alive. There is much work to be done on this, and I'm not even sure how the structure will develop yet. My goal is to ensure that the charity can grow with time, and can therefore continue providing aid and assistance to those who need it for many years to come. In so doing, I hope to secure the legacy of my uncle and my mother. The comfort they provided me in their lives should rightly be given to others, even if only in spirit. We shall see where the road leads from here, but I feel that it is a good thing that has come from this.

And, as the music flows to its final ensemble, I draw this piece to an end with this final thought. Schubert's music continues to provide a sense of succor well after his passing. Troubled though his life was, the joy he sought to leave the world is a well-deserved legacy. My hope is that the charity that is in the works now can perform in much the same way so that those whom feel they are without hope, at this time, might be given solace and strength. It is a small gesture, but the biggest accomplishments always start off as a small gesture. ​

 

[captain_jay_conrad]

So, here we finally are, the start of a new year. Things have been crazy since the close of the last year. No small part of which was being visited the day after Christmas by one particular ghost I'd rather not have appear unto me. Namely, the ghost of fucking influenza. That sniveling little rat bastard sneaked right past the window seal and decided to make the last approximate week or so a living hell. The good news is that it wasn't his viral cousin of another name. I guess there's always reason to send up a shout of good cheer for the silver lining. Or, at least, that's what my delusional thoughts are telling me at the moment. Still, it's nice to have another chapter in the books. Hopefully this year will be one of good promise and prosperity for all.

Things with the company are going quite well. We got our Oklahoma assembly plant online, which means that we managed to secure the jobs for the employees for another quarter. The government took notice of this too, since my taxes went up. I won't complain on that end. Just glad that people are able to get to work, and that we're doing our little part to revitalize the community. Honestly, I never once thought that I would become one of those boring sorts of people who would count work achievements as a measure of something exciting, or worthy of shouting from the God-damned rooftops, but here I am.

Such is the infernal journey of life, and well, at least one part of it is going in stereotypical fashion for me. And, for that I'll complain none too much...but probably too much for most, which is just the way I like it. I finally got my car repaired after someone decided that it would be cute to steal my catalytic converter. Apparently those things are a hot item with thieves because their inner core contains a honey comb of platinum and various other precious metals. So, maybe I'll start buying fucking catalytic converters instead of jewelry when it comes to wooing the ladies. That sounds like a guaranteed path to failure.

At least I can say that I have kept my sense of humor over the topic. The repairman was nice and got the work done a few days before Christmas. That was fortunate as I still had a fair amount of gift shopping and running around to do, and the last thing I wanted to do was disturb every decent soul. I can hear it now (as I'm no longer deaf), "'Twas the night before Christmas and no creature was stirring for my God-damn car sounds like a fucking tractor from hell that could scare even Krampus away from Noel." Or some other desperately stupid diddy that should never have seen the light of day.

So, yes, I would count that among the many blessing which have already stacked up in such a way as to rot teeth and give everyone diabetes, because that's what life really should be about. I guess I really do have my moments! Anyhow, the cold weather finally started to arrive to remind me that December was unseasonably warm. It dropped to below freezing from somewhere near spring-time room-temperature in a manner of a couple of hours. Of course, still having a spot of the flu when that happened made that all the more fun. Oh well, I guess not everything can be a spot of sunshine and lollipops.

Either way, I have a nice bowl of chili fresh from the stove, a spot of tea just in case the flu virus decides to reappear, and am getting ready for another cold evening at home. I would light the fireplace, but the potted plants would take offense as they're too damn close to it. Honestly, I don't even know why I have plants. The only way they repay me for my time and dedication is by dying. Personally, I think it's a little rude of them, the ungrateful little shits. But, I digress. Last year is history, and so this new year begins, I'll stay as cheerful as one can given the present weather conditions. Happy New Years to you all.​

 

[captain_jay_conrad]

So, I had a discussion with the CEO today, and it was decided that I shall go ahead and pursue my license in a second state. This sounds so good that I've decided to open a bottle of Bourbon so I don't have to think about it right now. I mean, yes, it's a mixed blessing. Being able to have jurisdiction between two major states where the company does business (Texas and Oklahoma) is fantastic. It's just the thought of having to apply for all of the shit that is necessary to make this crap work. It's like I've rewound the clock a decade, and am back to being a student again. There was something nice about being young and fresh, maybe even optimistic...Unfortunately, those days are long behind me.

I'm as cynical as ever. It was funny, the receptionist looked up at me when I walked in today and smiled followed by saying, "I heard you agreed to the second licensure, is it okay if I take my vacation today?" I just shrugged. Which she laughed at, and at me. Honestly, if I didn't love what I'm doing I'd say screw it and walk out the door. (I'm a joy at all your parties, make sure to invite me!) Yet, that's not the way I am. Actually, thinking back to the receptionist, the worst part was she tried to bribe me with a God-damned doughnut! They are sneaky, they learn your weaknesses!

Yet, in Oklahoma there is good news, we cleared some major hurdles for a big building project for some of the machining equipment. The CEO stepped in my office and asked if I wanted to attend the meeting with DOD. I shook my head, but he grinned. "Too bad! the Air Force CAG is here, and wants to talk to you." Which could only mean one thing, they are getting a little irritated with the contracts I wrote this last batch. Again, a sign that I'm doing my job right, but the last thing I wanted to do was have lunch with the CAG . Pilots I don't mind. Mindless government bureaucrats, well we are both in the running on who can be the worst drain on the taxpayer, and all the while pretend like we add something of value. (I sort of do, we help keep old equipment up to date so we don't have to spend more money. Or, well, usually we don't have to. I mean the group is nice, but we butt heads all day. I never dreamed I would say this, but there are times I miss being a small town criminal defense attorney without a clue as to what he was doing. ( I still don't have a clue as to what I'm doing, but I have enough years under my belt now that I can pretend.)

Then, my printer decided to blow up when I got back from the banquet―if that boring display could even be called a "banquet." That said, I did manage to get some of the homeless veterans we wanted to get hired, hired. I'm a prickly asshole for sure, but maybe not without a conscience. Or, at least not without one when I don't want to be without one. Either way, I'll be back with everyone in short order. But, as for the moment, I'm going to drink another batch of booze while filling out license applications...because that seems entirely intelligent at this point. Or not, or who cares? It's one of these options. There is another thing I muse about too. In the early days, when I was a court appointed criminal defense attorney I usually had clients tell me, "FUCK OFF! YOU DON'T WANT TO HELP ME!" (If I recall right this was the man who stole 18 stop-signs while being filmed by a police patrol vehicle.) I feel the thing that makes me sort of loathe myself more than anything is that he got probation from my efforts, I think. I could be wrong, that story is somewhere in this journal some ten-thousand years-ago.

If there's a lesson I could take from this rant--or, indeed, any other rant I've placed within the four corners of this old thing--it's that success is amazing, but it never comes in quite the way you expect. Furthermore, if you're in a high pressure field, learn to mix humor with anger, and always be willing to laugh at yourself. It does make things work better, and most people appreciate the fact that you can laugh at yourself, which then means you can laugh at them. (There is an added bonus to that!) Yet, on the serious note, never give up on your dreams. You can achieve them. Yet, always be flexible enough to answer the call of your dreams when they come. While I am able to laugh at myself, it's only because I've accepted that a dream job or career is never quite what it appears to be, or what I thought it would be. Yet, isn't that part of what makes this all an adventure? Now, I'm going to stop talking before AARP starts thinking I'm advanced enough to be considered for an early retirement, and/or dirt-nap.

 

[captain_jay_conrad]

I'm looking at one month to the point where it is six years, since my mother passed away. I was hoping that there would be some sort of easy answer as to how one should respond, or ought should respond to this. However, the older I get there is no easy answer.

One remains as large a fool as the moment their parent passes to the moment it has happened some half decade plus since it has happened. The main difference is that we learn to pay attention to the suffering of others.

Heaven knows I'm not the most sensitive soul, but to those of you whom have lost, make no mistake about it, the strongest of us weep. We may not show it in public, but rest assured we feel the loss of those figures whom have left us for whatever they do that for. There is no bitterness within me, I only hope mom has found the peace and acceptance she deserved on this world.

Now, that's as much humanity as one shall get from this Lawyer. It comes in small bursts, but screw that. Lol (In actuality, I do owe everything to those whom were patient enough to raise and guide me. Maybe some day I can give the same to future generations. )

 

[captain_jay_conrad]

Since the time I took over as the Chief Legal Officer of my company, I have always striven to be a source of inspiration and a guiding light for our employees. It may not be something which I always achieve, but, today, I do get to smile over a small victory. An individual who owns half the town where our company has expanded has been abusing his power to promote himself. Well, not just himself, but his entire nepotistic circle of associates and compatriots.

As such, he was going out of his way to attack and impugn the character of each of our staff and personnel. He went so far as to even target their families at civic events. It was outrageous, but outrageous for a reason. The individual of whom I speak was doing all of this because he has an ulterior motive. Namely, to hide the fact that he has misappropriated some $30-50 million for his plan to keep his family and friends well taken care of, for his illicit deals. Needless to say, the cease and desist letter I wrote over a year ago, has caught enough attention that the Statr Attorney General has initiated an investigation against him and his entire organization.

What this will do remains to be seen, in full. But, I am happy to say that I have helped one community lift themselves free of a malignant influence, which has held them back, for far too long. Let's hope that more of this rank corruption can be removed from all of our lives. That os the legacy which I would like to leave behind, when my time to fade away has finally arrived.