guilty pleasure #6

It's time for another one of those guilty pleasures. I've liked the Scissor Sisters for a couple of years now since their first album. They are an interesting group, originally from New York, huge in England and Europe but still not very well known or popular in North America. The following was the first single of their second album, a bee gees inspired little ditty, "I don't feel like dancin'". It's interesting because this song makes me want to dance.

tinky-winky and he-man sitting in a tree...

It's hard to believe it has been almost ten years since the whole tinky-winky, the gay teletubbie controversy began. The male-voiced, bag-toting teletubbie caused a furor among the religous right insisting that he was gay and was unduly influencing children. The Rev. Jerry Falwell actually wrote in supporting this position "He is purple the gay-pride color; and his antenna is shaped like a triangle -- the gay-pride symbol."

This got me thinking, were there hidden gay characters in the television of my youth? Certainly there was plenty of fodder for people to speculate.

Mr. Rogers, Mr. Dressup, Captain Kangaroo, all these old men surrounded by young children, particularly "Casey" on Mr. Dressup and the "tickle trunk". One begins to wonder. Children shows today don't seem to be hosted by old men anymore. But before I impugn the reputations of these dear old men who shaped my life and morals (I guess they join Marlo Thomas on the list of those to blame), it is best to turn to those cartoon characters of questionable sexual orientation.

I set out on a search and was quickly bombarded. The nattily-dressed, pink-coloured and heavy-lisped Snagglepuss. Was his "Exit stage left" trademark also an indication of his politics on top of his sexuality?

What about Huckleberry Hound? Once again nattily dressed, friends with Snagglepuss and he even outed himself on an episode of the Simpsons.

It wasn't only the gay boys making the rounds of the cartoon tv circuit. The world of Peanuts is not without its own speculation and some role models for the girls. How about Peppermint Patty? Described as bold, brash and tomboyish and a pro on the baseball field, there's little room for speculation. Add in the fact that Marcie called Patty "Sir" and it looks like there may be some lesbian loving in these girls' future.

But it was on youtube that I found proof of the sexual orientation of one of my favourite cartoon characters of my youth - He-Man. One would think that with a name like He-Man, there would be no question of his orientation. Ahhh, but you must look for the hidden sub-context. Those long golden locks, a magical sword, a body only built by endless hours in the gym and a pet cat (albeit a big one). If that's not enough, the following video should be proof enough. Once it's legal in their lands, I look forward to an invite to tink-winky and he-man's wedding.

blog on and happy travels

Well, it's the closing days of 2006 and I'm back from the family christmas so I'm pleased to report that it's time to blog on. After leaving you my faithful readers for a week, I hope you have stuck with me or marked your calendars anticipating a return. Otherwise I'll be spending much of the next several weeks writing to myself.

I hope everyone had a great holiday season. The end of exams got my holidays off to a good start, but those stories have already been told (see below). As per my last entry I was leaving on a jet plane. First the packing and repacking, two bags, one bag, back and forth. I decided on two bags, and as you shall soon learn, this is an important part of the story. Armed with christmas presents (all with a certain saskatchewan feel) I went off to the airport. All went well, booked in, through security, and through the miracle of aeroplan points, a seat in executive class. All is well in the world.

My family has a ritual developed through 30 years of living 20 minutes from the airport. You get off your plane, you stop at a payphone and call home proclaiming "I've landed." Cell phones have led to a slight variant, but in essence this practice has been sustained for years. Upon news of landing, the parental unit hops into the minivan and as they arrive at the airport, the person arriving has grabbed their bags and is waiting outisde to be picked up. A model of efficiency. These are the kinds of systems upon which the british empire was built.

Well for some strange and unusual reason, my mother and I both thought we would change this time-honoured tradition because of some new fangled thing kids are calling the "Internet". With live tracking of flights online, the mom and I agreed that they should leave a few minutes before landing and the timing would be even better, no waiting for anyone (mainly me standing outside).

All went according to plan, mom mastered online tracking and left eight minutes before landing, the dad in tow. All is well, the plane lands, but then it all begins to go wrong. We taxi to about 200 feet from the gate and stop...and wait...and wait...and wait. I resign myself to the waiting. Unfortunately the lady sitting by me does not. She starts ringing the attendant button. The attendant arrives, and the conversation went something like this:

L: I have a connecting flight in half an hour
A: Politely responds and repeats what the captain said, things are backed up and we are waiting for a ground crew.
L: But I need to make my connecting flight
A: Well once we make it to the gate, you'll be one of the first off
L: But when are we getting to the gate
A: Once we have a ground crew
L: Can't you let them know I have a connecting flight

I mean really, it's two days before Christmas, it's one of the busiest travel days of the year, and yes because you have a connecting flight, the ground crew will drop everything and come deal with our plane. Thank you for speaking up, it means we'll all get off that much sooner and away from you. Are people really this stupid? Anyways, 25 minutes later they find a ground crew and take us to the gate.

No need to panic, yes the parental unit is probably outside waiting, but I'm in executive, I'll be first off the plane, and my luggage has those little priority tags which are supposed to mean my bags are first off.

I make the trek to the baggage area to join the throng of 500 people at 12:30am standing around waiting for bags. I walk over to the luggage carousel, dutifully taking position to whisk my "priority" bags off the carousel and out to the waiting minivan. I wait...and wait...and wait...and wait. 15 minutes later bags appear, none of which are mine, then look there's one of mine, it's coming, it's coming, it stopped. My bag and the carousel. Soooo close yet so far. A spit, a sputter and one really big wheeze and the carousel resumes. My bag tumbles down, starts working it's way towards me and wham, it stops again. Mildly impatient knowing the parental unit is probably freaking out in the minivan outside, I trudge down, grab my bag and prepare to head out. Thankfully before I left the baggage area some luggage god took mercy and reminded me that I had changed my mind and packed two bags.

Back at the carousel and wait...and wait...and wait. I put some Karen Carpenter on the iPod in an effort to calm the savage beast within. About 20 minutes later the carousel wheezes back to life and several minutes later my second bag arrives. Finally I trudge off to meet the unit. As I'm going up the escalator to go outside, I see the dad on the down escalator. He doesn't see me. Nothing like having to yell "Dad" as you pass like ships in the night on the escalator. I get to the top and wait for the dad to make his way back up. I find out they've been looping around for an hour waiting for me, checking every level, and my mom finally sent in my dad to see whether my plane "had crashed in the last eight minutes".

All was better as an hour and a half after landing, I leaped into the minivan. We made it home and broke into the christamas cookies. Isn't air travel fun?

i'm leaving on a jet plane

It'll be one week before I'm home again. Well actually I am going home, back to my parents for the holidays. Not sure whether I'll be doing postings while I'm away. If not, the next posting will be December 29, 2006. Otherwise, there may be some surprise posts over the next week if time and technology allow.

For those I'm not seeing this holiday season, I hope you enjoy the holidays and take a good break.

for the guy who has everything..part two

So you've got the beer belly, and life is good. You're going to the game, you don't have to miss anything to get up and go buy beer, all is right in your world. But wait, you just drank six beers, and you have to go, but you don't want to miss the game. Well my friends, there is a perfect companion gift to the beer belly, it's the stadium pal. Yes, now you can drink to your heart's content and not have to leave your seat to pee. An elaborate system of surgical tape, tubing, collection bag and velcro leg straps for a toilet to go. Isn't modern technology grand?

David Sedaris is one of my favourite authors. He writes short stories and essays, often about his family or life, that are absolutely hilarious. He writes regularly for the New Yorker, but got his start on National Public Radio. His stories are even funnier when you hear him read them. The following clip is of Mr. Sedaris on the David Letterman show where he describes the wonders of the stadium pal.

karaoke encore

For those checking out the comments, you may notice a reference that Ms. Seriously Frivolous and I will always have Kiki Dee. I offer the following explanation. If I remember, it was a saturday night in September, the music was fine and the drinks were flowing. Ms. SF and I were having a grand ole time in deadmonton. That night it was anything but dead - inspired by singing NHL players we hopped in and out of cabs to find a karaoke bar. When we finally found one, our first choice wasn't in the book, so in a relatively scary, dingy bar we did a stunning rendition of Don't Go Breaking My Heart.

So yes Ms. SF, it's true, we'll always have Kiki Dee.

for the guy who has everything...

With exams over and christmas rapidly approaching my mind is quickly turning to the question of what do you get for the guy who has everything. In a bit of a panic, I thought I would see what I could find online for a truly unique and interesting gift. Let me tell you it didn't take long to find the perfect gift for any guy. On sale now, the beer belly.

For one easy payment of $34.95 you too can have a beer belly of your own. Better yet, the deluxe beer belly is only $15 more. The beer belly fits over your shoulders and around your stomach and lets you carry a six pack of cold beer (or other beverage of your choice) unnoticed to the ball game, the movies or to the concert. Anywhere you can go, your beer belly can go with you. Worried about your beer warming up on you, not a problem, for just $9.95 more you can get the beer belly ice pack pleasure extender.

To see the beer belly in action click here. For those looking for the perfect gift for the missus, not to fear, as the makers of the beer belly are developing a wine rack for the ladies.

another late night...

Well Monday night (see earlier post) was the end of exams celebration for about 14 of us, the rest of the section had to write the crim exam today, so today was also an end of exams celebration, that still being in toon town I decided to participate in. I'm beginning to understand how law students earn their hard drinking reputation. I think I'll need to go home to Toronto to detox after the past two weeks.

Tonight, well technically it began yesterday afternoon around 3:30, was another fun blast. Here's to the law profs who aren't afraid to come out and have a good time. This is the second time this week I've been out drinking with profs. Tonight was brilliant, both made it out to the dance floor, and one even onto the karaoke stage. The karaoke stage is also a place I graced tonight. The She-devil and I sang a duet. (My apologies to a certain friend in deadmonton, I'm afraid I did Jackson tonight with another woman).

Here's the original version of Jackson, and I think we did a reasonable facsimile.



Anyways, another late night entry, which should soon come to an end, either because I'll be in AA or the parties will stop for a week or two.

guilty pleasure #5

Let the parade of guilty pleasures continue. Another old one, Don't Call Me Baby, circa 2000 for your listening and viewing pleasure. Madison Avenue is a duo out of Australia. I think the other half of the duo is the dj seen in the video. Anyways, more thumpy, thumpy, campy fun.

school's out for the season

Yes, school is done for 2006!. No classes til 2007. Exams finished today (well technically yesterday - Monday) but I just got home now from celebrating the finish of first term and christmas exams. I'm afraid that I have drunk more in the last week than I have in the last year. Is that a bad thing? Anyways, school is done and it's time for some R&R. I'll be taking it easy here in 'toon town til Friday before heading home to the big smoke for the holidays.

guilty pleasure #4

It's time for another guilty pleasure. This song is a few years old and was put out by Sophie Ellis Bextor a british pop performer. It's campy, poppy, dancy and very disco. There seems to be a trend in all my guilty pleasures.

It's been years since we've seen a good dance off video, and friends, I'm afraid the wait may not be over. I leave it to you to judge whether the song's title "Murder on the Dance Floor" actually describes how bad the video is. It's a true guilty pleasure that still plays regularly in my iPod five years later.



I think part of the attraction is I haven't been to a wedding or country bar in a long time and where else do you get to do a spontaneous "altogether" line dance.

what would russell do?

Every Saturday I check the Globe and Mail style section to see what Russell Smith has to say about men's style.

I've been a fan of Russell's for some time and find his style advice hits all the right notes. People may say that he's too stiff, too strict or just too much of a dandy, but I think he's providing a valuable service. Growing up men aren't taught what to wear, thier mothers dress them, then girlfriends, then wives. When in a position to dress themselves, they are often lost, me included.

I like to think I dress reasonable well, but when in doubt, I'll ask myself what would Russell do? Actually, since the brillant gift of Russell's book that I received last christmas (thanks to the yellowknife moms), I can always flip through the chapters to find out what he would do. For the record, baseball hats don't exist in Russell's world. Also, the cargo shorts, flip flops, quirky-tee, and baseball hat "boy" uniform is explicitly banned. In Russell's world, you're a man, dress like one. Oh yeah, buy an iron.

It's nice to know that as a student, Russell has granted me an exemption, but once law school's done, Russell's book and I will be going suit shopping.

eurovision, part deux

There have been many skeptical reactions to my earlier post about Eurovision and european culture, including "singing klingons' you must be exaggerating...."

For those doubters and skeptics, I provide the following for your viewing pleasure, a little diddy called "Hard Rock Hallelujah". Oh those wacky finns!



If you're not convinced check out Iceland's egomanical entry. First off she starts with "Hello Europe", which I'm sure was met by a lot of people turning to each other and commenting who knew Iceland was part of Europe. She then proceeds to use an oversized high heeled shoe in lieu of a stripper pole and pronounces in song, "Congratulations I have arrived". I kid you not.

sorry

A friend of mine says Canadians apologize for everything. In honour of this practice, I offer the following apology for the lack of a real blog entry today - sorry. I wrote my first 100%, three hour law school final exam today. That finished at 5 pm. It's now 9 pm, I just got home after having had six celebratory pints. Anything else I would write today would not make sense or be a little too incoherent. Hopefully better post tomorrow.

'doo blues

Two years ago, I could safely say I had been on a snowmobile only a handful of times in my entire life. All that changed quite quickly with the purchase of my first ski-doo (the one on the right) a Bombardier 380 Fan Cooled Grand Touring Ski-doo. It was on that machine that I discovered the joys of snowmobiling. Being in the Northwest Territories at the time, ski-dooing was easy, you parked the ski-doo in your driveway and drove off from there. In 10 minutes you were out of town and onto the lakes.

Two years and two ski-doos (a Polaris 550 Fan Cooled Touring which was stolen, and its replacement a Sport Formula 500 LC Ski-doo - pictured on left) later, I'm hooked, which made today that much worse. I am currently ski-doo less having sold the Formula 500 when I went off to law school. It's a glorious day here, about 0 degrees, sunny, clear and is a fabulous day for riding. Unfortunately, in Saskatoon, you just can't hop on your ski-doo and drive off, it takes a lot more work.

As if the sled gods were tormenting me, I was meeting with the study buddies and we took a lunch break in Louis' the campus pub. Well what's on the TV but a ski-doo show. Watching these guys riding along as they tested the new Yamahas made me long for riding across some frozen northern lakes and even missing the bumpy portages.

As we talked about ski-dooing, I explained my theory of the zen of snowmobiling. There's something about jumping on one of these machines and just going. You mind clears, you take in the scenery and you focus on the ride. All those nagging little details of life just get blown away as you fly across a a frozen lake. At the time I had a pretty stressful job and I'm pretty sure snowmobiling was one of things saving my mental health. One of the study buddies compared it to scuba diving, it's an activity you do as part of a group, but when you're doing it you're in your own space. It's a great comparison.

So, until school's done and I'm living back in the frozen north, I'll just have to remember fondly my riding days and scope out what my new ride will be when I'm back.

traditions

As many of you can imagine, the law and the legal tradition have incredible numbers of traditions. I learned a new one today. The first year law class of 2006 (me included) wrote their first exam today. Because of the large number of us (roughly 120) we write the exams in the law library. The law library has three levels, the basement, the main floor (the pit) and a mezzanine that overlooks the pit.

As this is the first exam for all of us, we were quite focused and intense. Several minutes before the exam begins we are allowed into our seats, and then the "invigilators" say "GO". Well completely unnoticed, there's 100 upper year students on the mezzanine who broke out into cheering, yelling, applause, I even think there were a few musical instruments. It's a nice tradition, which I understand has been going on at the College for more than twenty years. Sort of a welcome/good luck thing. It's nice, but it can throw you off your game when you're completely surprised. As for the exam, today was Contracts, and all I have to say is that preparation paid off.

mmm...mmm...mimosa

Exams start tomorrow so it was up and at 'em early this morning to head off to meet the "study buddies". After some quality review time at Starbucks, and convincing ourselves that we got contracts beat, it was reward time for our hard work. Down the street for some Calories.

For those not in Saskatoon, Calories is a local restaurant on Broadway (like Bloor St. West for the Toronto Crowd, and well like nothing in Yellowknife for the Northern Crowd). Anyways, it's Sunday, it's just after 12, it's brunch time. I love breakfast so Sunday brunch is a particular favourite of mine.

Feeling all smart and educated, it was time for a reward. A quick scan of the menu, and boom, top of the page - a Mimosa. Growing up, I always thought Mimosas were one of those drinks they serve in the first class cabin on airplanes or to society ladies who lunch. It's an incredibly decadent idea, champagne for breakfast, and not something that is in the regular lives of people. As Robin Leach said, caviar wishes and champagne dreams.

Here's a recipe for Mimosas I found online. It appears the order of pouring is important.

Anyways, here's for champagne being more than just a special occasion drink. Next Sunday, spend a little extra time in bed, and make yourself a Mimosa.

do some good

December 10th is Human Rights Day, celebrating the adoption of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. Amnesty International holds a write-a-thon on December 10th to encourage people all over the world to write letters in support of human rights.

If it's December 10th, take a look around your community, there may be an event happening. Or better yet, follow the link below, choose an action and write a letter yourself. If it's after December 10th, don't worry, you can still write a letter, or take part in Amnesty's Christmas Card Greeting Campaign, where cards are sent to prisoners of conscience all around the world.

Amnesty International is a great organization and only accepts donations from individuals and not from governments of any kind.

For more information:

Write-A-Thon
Greeting Card Campaign
Amnesty International

talkin' bout my generation...

I grew up as part of "generation x". Last weekend, while watching the Liberal leadership convention (it's official, I have no life) Belinda Stronach (also a gen x'er) referred to our generation as the "Charter Generation". Catchy isn't it. That got me thinking, in a way, my generation is very much a product of the Charter of Rights and Freedom. The more I think about it, the more it makes sense.

Certainly many a good thing has come from the Charter, and given recent events, I concede that there is an advantage to having rights enshrined in a constitution rather than simply legislation. But there has also been a negative cultural shift that can be attributed to the Charter. The whole notion of individual rights, or more aptly put "my rights" has created a much more selfish society. All of a sudden "my rights" are more important than any notion of collective rights and society.

It may not be fair however, to solely blame the Charter of Rights and Freedoms. I also blame Marlo Thomas. In our early formative years, before our teenage days and the Charter, we were indoctrinated by Marlo Thomas. We grew up on "Free to Be You and Me", the song, books and TV specials. All over the radio, you would hear "take my hand, come with me, where the children are free".



On TV, Marlo Thomas and Mel Brooks were voicing baby puppets who told us that boys and girls can be whatever they want to be.



Right from the beginning we were told we were special and could be anything we wanted. No wonder we are the generation that believes "it's all about me." I mean really, we never had a chance.

dude, you talk like a lawyer...

I was talking on the phone to a friend of mine, a certain little miss know-it-all, about some stuff that I had learned in law school, when she caught me talking like a lawyer. I can't capture the outrage and how much her voice raised when she exclaimed "You're talking like a lawyer!" For those who know little miss know-it-all, I can only say that the combination of outrage and tone was similar to when she would stomp her feet and yell "You're a bureaucrat" at me.

Despite being a law student, this is not a good thing. It has put me in an incredibly awkward position. Since the year 2000, I have worked either for the legal profession or within the justice system. During these six years, I have fought for using plain langauge. When little miss know-it-all came along she took on the mantle of plain language champion and ran with it. It's bad enough to be caught, but to be caught by a fellow campaigner, well that's just bad.

I'm the guy whose first book for law school was "Plain Language Writing for Lawyers", yet somehow I'm slipping. I spend all day reading old judgments, it was bound to sneak into my head sooner or later.

Well now, it's time to focus, buckle down and concentrate. Someone once said "lawyers don't talk like dead judges" but I'd have to disagree, unfortunately lawyers are taught to talk like dead judges. I am changing this quote to say "good lawyers don't talk like dead judges" and will post this on my bathroom mirror so I see it everyday.

guilty pleasure #3 - eurovision

This guilty pleasure is the newest. I found this song on another web site today. From what I understand it has been a big hit all across Europe. It does have that Eurovision/Europop feel.



Speaking of Europe, growing up here in the colonies we were meant to feel culturally insignificant. We had no culture, no great artists, composers, writers, etc. I believed in the cultural superiority of Europe for most of my life, until one day while on vacation in England, I sat down with my cousins and watched the Eurovision contest. It is rare that you see Eurovision in Canada, and I am sure they are trying to hide it from us.

Eurovision is supposed to showcase the best of European musical culture. Each country puts forward their best singer/song and countries vote. First off, Europe's best is nothing but pop trash. Seriously, there was a transvestite trio from turkey; some singer from Estonia dressed like Xena the Warrior Princess, surrounded by dancing cavemen; Finland has been represented by a singing Klingon surrounded by a supporting cast of Star Trek castoff aliens; and a personal favourite, the break dancers from Belarus.

Secondly, the voting is hilarious. Each country can't vote for their entry, so you get Latvia giving 12 points to Estonia, and Estonia giving 12 points to Latvia, and nobody giving points to England or France. So much for a new united Europe.

It was all enough to shatter any notion of European cultural superiority. However, in its defence, the music is kinda catchy, and the Eurovision contest did give us ABBA.

some things should never be changed...

I seem to have gotten (okay - maybe earned) a reputation for someone who doesn't like change. How people have taken to mistaking me for my change resistant brother I'm not sure, but on with the post.

I actually received calls and emails when baileys introduced their new flavours becuase people were concerned I may go over the edge. There are few pleasures left in my world and baileys irish cream is one of them. My relationship with baileys has been a long and rewarding one. It's a relationship that has intensified over the past few years as Baileys became part of my camping routine. No matter how bad camp coffee is, baileys makes it better. My baileys repetoire grew, including a baileys slushee (baileys over snow - add kahlua for the ultimate winter treat), baileys and hot chocolate, etc.

Now they have gone and changed my baileys. Thankfully they left the original flavour, but they've added two more flavours, caramel and mint chocolate. I don't understand this need for change. I can see the following fact pattern happening one day, me a little rushed running into the liquor store, grabbing a bottle of baileys and heading off to the great outdoors only to find out when I'm in the middle of nowhere it's mint chocolate! ARGH! (as an aside, I have been in the middle of nowhere and used my cellular to call in more baileys)

This constantly happens, everything is labelled new and improved. They introduced new Coke, and we know how successful that was. Government is always looking for the "new" program or service. Once again, we know how successful that will be. I admit, most of the time I question the need for these changes. I understand change and innovation has done wonderful things for society, but what's wrong with sticking with what you're good at, and doing it well?

guilty pleasure #2

Wow, this weekend it seems like all my guilty pleasures are hitting the tube. On screen now - So I Married An Axe Murderer.

I consider this movie to be one of Mike Meyers' best movies, well above Wayne's World and better than Austin Powers. It's quirky, funny and you can see the groundwork being laid for many of his later characters, particularly Fat Bastard. Here's a clip:



One note of protest, on behalf of big 'heeead' kids everywhere, cut us some slack, it's not like we made it that big, it's our parents' fault.

I guess I feel a certain affinity for Mike Meyers. Roughly the same age, we both grew up in the suburbs of Toronto with English immigrant fathers, and we're both the youngest child. There's a certain cultural sense that I think we share that makes him that much more funny for me. The British have a sense of humour of their own, which appears to have seeped through to the next generation. I'm sure part of it came from watching Benny Hill and Monty Python at too young of an age.

It's particularly fun for me to watch his movies and pick out the 'local' or 'cultural' in-jokes. Wayne's World is full of them, and there's quite a few in this movie. In Wayne's World, stan nikita's doughnuts, the local cable channel, and the gaslight bar are all local Toronto fixtures. Plus, growing up close to the airport, I've spent many a night sitting on the side of the road watching the planes take off and land above us.

guilty pleasure #1

I'm writing this post with the television on. There are a few guilty pleasures we all have, and one of mine is Bring it On!. I just came across it while channel surfing and like a deer in headlights, I can't look away. For those not familiar with it's greatness, Bring it On! is a movie about cheerleaders. I'm serious. The movie is fun, and the dialogue, well it can be summed up in these fine examples from the movie:

"Can we just beat these Buffys down so I can go home? I'm on curfew girl."

and

Whitney: She puts the "itch" in "bitch".
Courtney: She puts the "whore" in "horrify".

To enjoy some of this campy guilty goodness, here's the opening scene from the movie:



I'm compelely not the target audience for this movie, but each time it's on I can't help it, I'm glued to the tube.

contracts haiku

Contracts and I don't connect. I don't know why, whether it's my prof, the cases, or the judgments that seem all over the map. Anyways, in most contracts classes my main goal is not to stick my pencil in my eye. My latest efforts to avoid a pencil-stabbing incident has been rewriting the few laws of contracts I have learned in the form of haiku. Here for your reading pleasure are my first contracts haikus, more will follow and possibly even some haikus from other classes as well.

offer and accept
the reasonable person
it is up to them

--

the objective test
is in fact nothing more than
judges’ opinion

what would diefenbaker do?

This photo is from early October. It's me at Diefenbaker's grave, which is located on campus, not far from the law school. Diefenbaker, one of Canada's best Prime Ministers is from Saskatchewan, was a graduate from the College of Law and was the true prairie populist.

To this day my Dad still has Diefenbaker's One Canada books, and one is even signed by Dief himself. Diefenbaker gave Canada its first Bill of Rights, long before there was a Charter (more on my views of the Charter in later posts). Across the road from the law school is the Diefenbaker Centre which is a hidden treasure for political junkies like me. It is a great resource for information on him and what he's done for Canada.

Anyways, take some time to look him up, see what he did, and then when you're faced with a dilemma you can ask yourself "what would diefenbaker do?".

(maybe you'll get) lucky

For those hoping the title of this post indicates a dramatic change in my social life, 'fraid not my friends. I was driving the other day when I heard this song on the radio. Since then it's been thumping, thumping it's way around my brain. I'm passing it on in hopes it will get out of my head at least for a while.

take a memo

Well, those who have done law school will understand this post, it's all about the Memo. The 'office memo' appears to be a standard part of a lawyer's practice. In the memo, you review the facts, identify issues, analyze the law as it applies to the specific situation and provide a conclusion. This is also known as a legal opinion. From what I understand, as a lawyer I will be writing these for the rest of my working life (inset joyous cheer here).

Interestingly enough given how critical the office memo appears to be, we only do them twice in law school, in first year, in the first three months when no one has a clue what they are doing. As you may have guessed, I just completed and handed in my second memo, so this post may have a bitter, post-memo feel.

Writing the memo is a frustrating experience becuase you are not given any direction on how to write a memo, just told to do it. Upper year students will pass on words of wisdom such as "the answer is in the textbook" and "don't expect to do well, they don't tell you how to do it for a reason", but the typical type-A competitive law student stereotype clicks in and you want to do well, so you spend days researching trying to find that "one case" that will rule all the others. All this work goes into the 8-10 pages we have to write in each memo, which combined are worth a total of 16 marks in the final mark of one class. There must be a better way than the trial by fire, we teach thinking, not skills approach of most universities.

It's too bad really, because I have probably learned more doing the memos than in class. Anyways, the memo is dead, long live the memo!

post one

Well, so begins my self-indulgent trip into the blogsophere. For those who are used to my verbal rants or the strange inner-ramblings of my mind, nothing on this blog should be much of a surprise. For those not used to these things, fasten your seat belts it's going to be a long and bumpy ride. Hopefully, you'll find everything from the mundane to the outrageous. And to that certain someone who said "you should start a blog, so I know what's going on with you", well here you go...be careful of what you wish for!