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Here, have a gamut. - Blather. Rants. Repeat.
A Møøse once bit my sister ...
Here, have a gamut.
Sad. Surprised. Amused. Angry. Pleased. Relieved.

Throw in "tired" as a constant for most of the day and you get a full-on range of emotions over 12 hours from out the door to back in it. Going in order:

* I had to be in Bankruptcy Court in Rochester by 9, with the client told to be there by 8:30. I made it a few minutes late for being 30 minutes early, but I expected to be delayed a bit, since I heard news and saw signs on the way in about a massive downtown funeral for Daryl Pierson, a 32-year old RPD officer killed in the line of duty a week ago; his alleged shooter was also shot and is facing mutiple felony counts.

State troopers and uniformed officers from nearby towns were directing traffic and doing crowd control. By the time I got out of my hearing and went to file things in other courts, I came upon the relatively short but very dignified funeral procession- a Celtic band, a handful of crepe-hanging RPD squad cars, and Pierson's hearse.   The state court building was virtually empty- all the deputies and city judges were attending the funeral. I came out to this sight:


He left a widow (who, I later heard, gave an amazing eulogy) and two very young children. He died tragically and was remembered respectfully, as it should always be.  And that more than covers the sad.

* Not long after that, before heading to my Rochester office, I got word from someone working in the office here: someone on the staff had finally been fired after years of complaints about attitude and mistreatment of everyone from attorneys to visitors.  I have no role in hiring or firing in either of the places I work, and much prefer it that way, but I genuinely wondered how this particular axe had taken this long to fall. So color me surprised.

* The amusement came from the office here. Rochester once again proving its small townie-ness, I saw a file on somebody's pile with a name I recognized, and not for anything good. It was someone who'd been in a nasty piece of business I finished up a few years ago and who, unknown to me, had been taken on as a client. But not as a permanent one- rather it looks like I will be getting to sue the jamoche and, if so, I will enjoy every minute of it.

* That left the final three hours of the workday to make two workstops- one near that office, the other a good 20 miles past Emily's new home way into her new county. The Mad came from the news, developing during that drive, that NFL officials had almost certainly had access to the inside-the-elevator video of Ray Rice and his then-fiance. Such evidence calls into question its commissioner's denials about him, or anyone in his office, having seen the tape before TMZ leaked it on Monday. There are increasing calls for the league owners to fire him, whether the cause is lying or incompetence in the investigation.  I joined those calls when I heard a scary stat toward the end of my drive: during the current commish's tenure, going back to 2006, there have been 56 documented cases of NFL players being arrested on domestic violence charges. The total number of game suspensions served by all of them (not counting Rice's two-game wrist-slap? Thirteen.  That, alone, is enough evidence for me to convict.

* I needed some brightening at the end of the day, and got it driving back through Palmyra to get home. Emily had gotten home, and I spent a little time with her and the kitties, who have come out of their hidey-holes and seem to be enjoying their new digs, as well as each others' company, way more than I remember in the last place. They still have a bit of unpacking to do, but the apartment looks much more like a real home than the last one ever did, and it was good to see her in what may be her element for quite some time.

* And, despite all that, I still got in the door just under 12 hours after leaving, relieved to have beaten a nasty projected passing storm, and happy to be here with my beloved, our furry people, and back in what I know is my element:)
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