Workaholics

You’d think after “Office Space” and “The Office”, that we don’t need any more cynical (but funny) office comedies.  And you could very well be right.  Is there room for one more?  Here’s a good candidate.

It’s now on its sixth season on Comedy Central and has been picked up for a seventh.  I’ve actually only seen season 1 – but I’ve got writers block this weekend and haven’t finished up the other topics I’d like to cover.  If any fans can tell me that the series changes dramatically in any way after season 1, by all means let me know.

Locale:  L.A.   Instead of Houston or Scranton, we’re in L.A.   Lots of sunshine.

Workplace.   They work at a telemarketing company, Tel Ameri Corp, so it’s another candidate for a “soulless” corporation no one likes.

What’s funny is that the three major characters use the real names of their respective actors.

Blake (Blake Anderson).   Easily the most distinctive due to his long hair and grooming, he’s the guy who doesn’t meet the grooming code of the 9-5 workplace.  And as you can expect, he’s the most 4:20-oriented of the group.  In fact, it’s a miracle he even works any office job at all.  He’s so off the wall that there’s no “Office” or “Office Space” equivalent of him, so right there you’ve a good reason to watch. 

Adam (Adam Devine).  Kinda chubby and equally irresponsible.  He also has that annoying tendency to overstate his appeal to women.  For “Modern Family” fans, he’s considerably less likeable than his character on that show (romance with Haley).  In fact, he’s just as much a screwup as Blake but looks more normal.

Anders (Anders Holm).  The most well-adjusted and least inclined to mess around.  Anders tries to keep his two pals in line but invariably fails.  In fact, Blake and Adam were roommates in college, and Anders was their resident advisor (RA), not hard to believe when you see how diligently and unsuccessfully he tries to rein them in.  However, he is MUCH more sympathetic than Dwight.

The other major characters are Alice, their attractive but intolerant of their BS boss, and Karl, their weed dealer. 

The obvious comparisons are with “Office Space” and “The Office”, and what distinguishes this one is that it goes farther into South Park style irreverency and shenanigans than either of those.  It’s a bit crazier than “Parks & Recreation” – oddly, no one on P&R does weed, not even Andy or April.  Check it out and decide for yourself.

Graduation and Commission

Recently I had the pleasure of attending both the college graduation and the ROTC commissioning ceremony of my GF’s son, Alex.  I had been at his high school graduation (Bergen Catholic) four years earlier and witnessed him progressing through four years at Rutgers (the state university of New Jersey, main campus located in New Brunswick), and three of his four Air Force ROTC awards ceremonies.

            We had a special treat, as the commencement speaker for Rutgers was none other than Barack Obama, the President of the United States, and Alex’s school commencement speaker – the subsequent ceremony where each student is called by name (diplomas sent by text message) – was Bill Moyers, the White House Press Secretary for Kennedy and LBJ.  I did not know that Rutgers predates the American Revolution (1766), but back then it was called Queen’s College; King’s College is now known as Columbia University.  Nor did I know that Henry Rutgers himself, the Revolutionary War hero and early benefactor, and after whom the school was renamed in 1830, owned slaves.  (“True story.”)

            A few days later, Alex got his gold bar of 2LT, making him an officer in the US Air Force, or as I call it, the American Luftwaffe.  Although he won’t be a pilot, he does have a bright future ahead of him in the service, so we’re all very proud of him and hopeful on his behalf.

This makes me look back on my own track record.

Grammar School. 8^th Grade, Marymount, Paris, France, June 1982.   This was a small, private Catholic school in Neuilly.  Our class was 4 guys and about 12 girls.  There was no special speaker that I recall, but I think I still have my little blue “diploma”.

High School.  American School of Paris, June 1986.  Thanks to the good weather, the ceremony was held at the Lafayette Escadrille Memorial just down the road from St. Cloud.  Here is the one picture where my hair is unfashionably long – and never since.  I don’t recall the commencement speaker.

College.  University of Maryland, College Park, December 1990.   Because I took summer classes rounding up my senior year and technically graduated in August 1990, I attended the December ceremony.  I skipped the general commencement ceremony – I don’t recall who the speaker was – and only attended the specific ceremonies for the Behavior And Social Sciences (BSOS) school (GVPT major) and a few hours later for the undergraduate business school (BMGT major).   I can’t recall either speaker, but neither was someone famous.  They handed out posters and not actual diplomas.

Law School.  George Mason University, May 1993.  This was at the Center for the Arts at the main campus in Fairfax, Virginia, and our speaker was Ruth Bader Ginsburg, at the time still on the US Court of Appeals, but very shortly would become a US Supreme Court Justice.  I don’t recall her speech.  What I do recall is being surprised at receiving my actual diploma on the spot. 

Unfortunately, getting a Juris Doctor (JD) does NOT give you much except the right to apply to take the bar exam.  I then had to take those exams in July 1993.

Bar Admission.  As Alex had his commissioning ceremony, one of eight cadets to do so, I had my bar admission ceremonies.  These are full of pomp and vigor, and typically involve much more than 8 lawyers at once.

Maryland, December 1993.   I passed the July 1993 exam and earned the right to be admitted in December. I took a full day professionalism course in Baltimore.  The ceremony was at the actual Court of Appeals (Supreme Court) in Annapolis.  They staggered the applicants in groups small enough to fill the fairly small chambers (plus guests). 

            Since this was my first, it was the most important.  Now I was an attorney!   Granted, I could only practice in Maryland, but I could call myself a lawyer.  Three years of law school and several months of studying for the bar exam, plus a trip to Timonium (just north of Baltimore) for the bar exam itself, paid off.

Virginia, June 1994.   While I passed the July MD bar, I failed Virginia’s, by mere points.  The Bar Examiners refused my request for a recount, so I had no choice but to study harder and try again in February 1994.  To make matters worse, they upped the application fee from $200 to $600 and added an obnoxious character inquisition which was previously fairly cursory, though no worse than what I endured for Maryland the prior summer.  Finally, and this was the most difficult, they completely changed the format of the exam from short essay (easiest) to long, detailed essay and fill-in-the-blank, so the bar review people had to say, "we got nothing, just study as hard as you can and hope for the best."  The February exam was in Norfolk, so I met my buddy Greenside for lunch.  John had graduated from GMU with me the prior May, but he had passed the July exam and swore in already.

            Upon returning from Norfolk, my boss informed me that he was laying me off. He gave me March 1994 off as severance.   Somewhat despondent, I didn’t realize what the small letter was from the Virginia Board of Bar Examiners was in my mailbox in April.  Having been burned on my last call to the Virginia Lawyers’ Weekly in October, I didn’t bother asking them this time, so it was that letter which let me know… I had passed!   I went down to Richmond in June, for a ceremony held not at the Supreme Court, but just in a hotel ballroom.  Either way, I was now licensed in Virginia as well as Maryland.  Woohoo!  This became more important the following December when my prior boss hired me back again.  From then until May 1998 I was actively working as an attorney in Virginia (60%) and Maryland (40%) mainly doing traffic, criminal, business planning, and divorces. 

            ** Note:  the Virginia Bar requires you to wear a suit and tie when taking the bar exam.

D.C., October 2012.   This came several years later, waiving in, as opposed to taking and passing the bar exam.  Some jurisdictions allow immediate reciprocity (waiving in from other states), some require 5 years active practice in another jurisdiction which has similar reciprocity (DC & NY), and some others like Louisiana and New Jersey have NO waive in at all:  you HAVE to take and pass their bar exam. 

Due to some issues concerning a prior attorney, my bar record was no longer pristine, but a small panel of DC lawyers decided to cut me a break.   I swore in before the DC Superior Court and became licensed in three jurisdictions.  However, my DC practice has been practically nil, and currently I’m inactive.

New York, June 2015.   NY also allowed veteran lawyers to waive in.  That same spotted past caused even more problems with New York.  I had to go up to Albany in December 2013 for an informal three attorney panel, which rejected my application.  I appealed and received a formal hearing in December 2014, also in Albany.  That panel – three completely different lawyers – found “no cardinal sins” and recommended admission, and the NY courts agreed.  So in June 2015 I went to Albany a third time, this time accompanied by my very proud and patient girlfriend. 

New York also has a special place for me, as my father’s side of the family comes from there – Brooklyn.  My uncle was a government attorney, but to my knowledge was licensed in Virginia, not New York. 

As yet I’m still looking for legal work in NY (preferably NYC) so if anyone has a lead, let me know.  

The Pacific War 1879-83

I mentioned this briefly earlier and I’m coming back to it now that I have the Osprey Men-At-Arms book on this topic, though the Stupid Wars book by Strosser & Prince helped out on the basic narrative of the war timeline.  Those guys drip with spite and sarcasm, while Osprey simply says what happened.

So we’ve seen that Bolivia & Paraguay fought to a stalemate in the 1930s in the Chaco War, while Paraguay got its ass kicked by Brazil, Argentina and Uruguay in the War of the Triple Alliance (1864-70).  Rounding out the three major South American wars is this one, from 1879-1883 (though Chile and Peru didn’t actually sign a peace treaty until 1929).

On the dry, desolate Pacific coast of South America, birds tend to poop.  The poop – guano – accumulates.  By the mid-1800s, this guano was in high demand for explosives.   Peru, Chile, and Bolivia – back then, Bolivia still had a Pacific coast – got into an argument about this.

Because the area in question was poorly developed and mostly oriented towards delivering guano to the coast for shipment overseas, naval operations took a primary role at first.  After some confusion when Chile and Peru had ironclads passing each other on the seas, Chile finally defeated Peru’s navy and secured the coastal areas.  This should have ended the war immediately, but neither Bolivia nor Peru conceded defeat.

So the Chileans took on Peru, and managed to defeat that country as well – or at least strategic victories locking up the coast and defeating Peru’s forces – and occupying Lima, the Peruvian capital.  Ever the loyal ally, the Bolivians barely showed up to fight before running away from the coast.

Where things get a bit stupid, is that even now Peru didn’t see fit to surrender.  They took off to the hills to continue a guerilla war.  Eventually the Chileans had to chase them into the Andes and kick their asses there.  Only when NO hope was left did the Peruvians give up – in 1883.

Bolivia lost its Pacific coast and wound up landlocked.   Peru?  Well, Chile and Peru haggled over peace terms until 1929, Peru getting a little bit back at the bargaining table.

And guano? By the time WWI came by, German chemists had finally synthesized the basic chemicals which came from guano, freeing the worlds’ military from dependence on bird poop to fire weapons. 

Uniforms.

Chile.  Its armies looked remarkably like French armies:  dark blue doubled breasted coats, red pants, and blue kepis.  Later they switched to an all-grey version of the same uniform which presumably blended into the surroundings a little better than dark blue and bright red …decades before the French made their switch to horizon blue. 

Bolivia.  All over the place on uniforms.  Different colors, basically taking the stock “coat & kepi” and playing around with multiple colors.  Given the very limited role Bolivian forces played in the war, these soldiers were the least often seen on the battlefield and the least relevant.  

Peru.  Similar to Chile – blue uniforms with either blue or red kepis, switching over to a more neutral grey later.  Both the Chileans and the Peruvians also used some imported German pickelhaubes (spiked helmets) for some units.  Moreover, much of Peru's forces wound up being irregulars anyway, thus not much in the way of "uniforms".

Prince

A few weeks ago we lost another musician, the guy called Prince.   Facebook lit up like a huge purple Christmas tree; it seems everyone was a fan and everyone was sad to see him go.

I’d never been a fan, but I was aware of who he was. So I checked out 1999 and Purple Rain (album and movie).   Here are my observations.

Vikings Fan.  Dude was from Minneapolis.  He set “Purple Rain” in that city.  By all accounts he was a big Vikings fan, and used purple frequently for that reason.  However, he never actually played for the Vikings.  True story.

Music.  He had lots of albums: 39 studio albums from 1978 to 2015.  Due to some BS with his record company, he had to change his name to an unpronounceable symbol, so in 1993 we started calling him “The Artist Formerly Known As Prince”.  Then things got sorted out and he changed his name back in 2000.  I suppose he could have changed his name to “King” or “Duke” or something along those lines; maybe his lawyer can explain.

1999 and Purple Rain.  As noted, he had a lot of material released.  So far as I could tell, these two were his most popular and well esteemed.   And?

Well, my favorite two bands are AC/DC and Black Sabbath.  Veering off from them, I’ve enjoyed the Beatles, Beach Boys, Pink Floyd, Grateful Dead, and even stuff like Parliament-Funkadelic.  However, I have NEVER been a fan of dance music, of any sort, by any artist.  Nor do I care for rap – except for “Epic” (Faith No More), which I tolerate but don’t like.  1999 is dance music, as is Purple Rain, though the latter is closer to mainstream commercial rock music than the former. 

However, it’s still very beat oriented and doesn’t begin to approach even the Beatles.  Don’t call it genius.  That’s reserved for albums like Sgt Pepper and Dark Side of the Moon.  Not Purple Rain.

The movie was OK.  Notwithstanding my dislike of the music itself, the story was coherent enjoyable.  Nothing special, though.

Guitar.  Recently Prince played the Beatles’ “While My Guitar Gently Weeps”.   There is also some excellent guitar on 1999 and Purple Rain.  Definitely he could play, whether a natural Telecaster or any weird-shaped thing.   My problem is not with that, my issue is with his music.  Dance music with a killer guitar solo thrown in here and there is still dance music.  Not my scene.  Oddly, even Janet Jackson (“Black Cat”) and Michael Jackson (w/Jennifer Batten and Eddie Van Halen) have a few songs which could be described as “rock”.  “Beat It” could be qualified as a rock song, though Jackson wasn’t close to Iron Maiden, AC/DC, or even Van Halen.

I really dislike dance music.  The 128 bpm constant rhythm evokes an unpleasant mixture of boredom and nausea.  Moreover, it all sounds exactly the same.  Hell, Paul Stanley wrote “I Was Made For Lovin’ You” (from Dynasty) precisely because his impression was, “writing this stuff is easy.  Even I can do it.”  Fortunately for KISS fans, that song was the exception, not the rule – though much of Unmasked comes a little too close.

Gay?  Nope.  Remarkably, I don’t think he was even bisexual.   No men have come forward claiming to be intimate with him.  My take on it is that at an early stage, he knew he was not going to be macho and masculine.  So he turned things around and decided that androgynous – thank you, David Bowie – was the way to go.  As implausible as it seems, there are actually women who find androgynous men attractive, not because they think of these men as gay or bisexual, but as heterosexual men.  Bizarre, I know.  Clearly, many women did find him attractive, so his image worked on that level.  And it worked for his image, and for his music as well.  He was the total package – just not one I would buy.   :p