Continuing with the meme that makes me feel a thousand years old, where we talk about what was going on, every 5 years. You may want to start here, at the beginning, and then go on below:
1982-I am the only person I know who actually liked law school. Probably, it had something to do with having worked at a low-paying job for 7 years after college. But I had liked being a picture framer, too,except for the starvation wages. I think maybe I'm just a big geeky weirdo. The jukebox in Peter's Pub by the law school played, "I Fought the Law and the Law Won." Often.
The "O" a/k/a the Original Hot Dog, was just across the street from the lawschool. Their incredible fries, and big, greasy cheap chicken parm sandwiches sustained many of us. I carried Tums at all times. Sometimes the redfox came to law school with me, and we hung out in the student lounge. To this day, I see classmates who ask after my"little girl". They are taken aback to hear that she is a grownup and in grad school herself. Married. Makes them feel old.
I got a job clerking for an appellate judge when I graduated, and I liked that too. Bad times ahead, though.
Six months later, my elderly judge up and died. Mouths to feed and all that, so I took the first job that came along, working for a big firm, doing commercial litigation. Hated the place, and began looking for something else at once; a couple of years later, I finally got a job with the federal Department of Labor-a much better fit. Then, Bill got very, very sick in 1985. I wound up working at home, ghost writing opinions for overburdened Federal Administrative Law Judges, so I could look after him.
1987-Bill died, right before Christmas. Knew it was coming; that didn't help. A week or so later, and I was still pretty exhausted- spent really. I got a call for a job interview, from a civil service test I forgot I had taken a year before. I wasn't going to go, but my mother and the 12 year old redfox talked me into it. They said, "This would be a great job for you." They were smart, and I was lucky and I've been a workers' compensation judge ever since. If a person has to work, this is as good as it gets, barring, you know, great playwright or something.
My friend E. more or less dragged me to the opera, to see Verdi's Don Carlo. By that time, Opera was just about the only kind of music I didn't enjoy. (I'm pretty much an ignoramus about jazz, but I often like it, without really getting it.) The semi-involuntarily opera just blew me away, and several gazillion dollars worth of cds later, it still does. Best ever music to cook to, except maybe the stax/Volt soul of the sixties. I think so anyhow.
1992-or thereabouts-I get foggier on exact dates as I get older-fewer landmark items; I tell myself that's why. The redfox went off to Brown. Providence was a nice place to visit her, and I slowly adjusted to living alone for the first time in my whole life. Then, two friends, temporarily apartment-less, came to stay in her attic room in our house (a biggish nice old house we bought before Bill got sick)- while they looked for a new apartment. They stayed five years.
I met D and E ( a/k/a "the boys") through the redfox, when D. was a student teacher in French at her high school. They were great roommates, and good company. When the redfox was at home, she didn't mind taking another, smaller bedroom. She did mind, however, that E was sitting in her seat at the dining room table. He was very attached to "his" place, too. They squabbled over it like siblings, although they did not pinch each other and stuff being, you know, adults. E once ate all the cookies the redfox bought, before she got any. She will probably not mind if I mention that she adores them both.
I got a computer.
1997ish- The redfox was living and working in Berkeley, and the boys bought a house. I sold my house,and moved to my present tree-house of an apartment . Living alone does have a few advantages. It has turned me into a spoiled brat, able to spend enormous amounts of time doing just what I'd like.
Packing my books for the move was an eye-opener. My Uncle Ted had died, and left me a little money, with which I bought The Uncle Ted Memorial Bookcases. They are the first, solid, real-furniture bookcases of my life, and they are wonderful. But they were already overflowing ten years ago. I do realize I have a book problem, and I haven't solved it, to date. I took an amazing trip to Italy which I could not afford, and went to a gazillion operas there. I ate wonderful food, and lost my heart to fried squash blossoms. It was so worth it.
2002-My father died, at 87. He had a long, draining last illness, during which we realized just how much he had been covering up for my mother's early Alzheimer's problems. I was lucky that my brother and his wife were also here in town, and I didn't have to figure out how to handle everything alone. They are so reliable and responsible, and a good thing too, because the personality changes in Mum have make her sometimes hostile, suspicious, resentful. We are also lucky that she has the funds to afford a really nice, sunny, spacious assisted living apartment, with all her own furniture and everything, right in my neighborhood, with an amazing staff of smart caring folks, who help us take care of her. We all visit often, and take her out when she's up for it. I wish she felt less angry about everything. The redfox will be getting married soon, at the Warhol museum with veggie food and good friends. She will marry S., who is, well, what can I say, girl has good taste.
It's 2007, and too early to call. The deal doubtless includes some players to be named later. The wedding was great fun, and the offspring and company live in Cleveland now- not so far.
I have just returned from the emergency room, having been treated for some nasty burns I gave myself, spilling hot hot coffee on my feet. Peeled off the socks, but didn't get the cool water on fast enough to prevent some large wobbly blisters. Unattractive, and oww! You will doubtless be relieved to hear that I did not take a photo.
image: from "What's Opera, Doc?" a not to be missed Bugs Bunny cartoon. Chuck Jones. The other one is a photo of a Clash album, as you probably deduced, from the Amazon site.
Sorry about the burns, I have been known as a bit of a klutz so I am very much feeling your pain! It was a lovely post, bit I still doubt I'll ever 'get' opera! Hope the tootsies recover quickly!
Posted by: Heather | March 23, 2007 at 11:32 AM
Even not really bad burns are bad. I just got one on my hand two days ago and every thing seems to be touching it and irritating it. Healing is always so much slower than we want. Now, I'll be thinking of your feet while my hand heals.
The operas my mom took me to first are my favorites, Carmen and Faust. Music is such an individual trip.
This is really a lovely post. You've had a most interesting law life, well and a most interesting life period.
Posted by: Tanna | March 23, 2007 at 05:42 PM
My sympathies; I think I told you that I once spilt hot grape jelly on my thigh. Check out my favorite movie tangentially about opera, Cosi. It's an Australian movie about an unemployed young drama student who gets a job at a mental institution directing a talent show. An inmate persuades him to produce Mozart's Cosi fan Tutte instead. It's a riot, but also kind of a tear jerker.
Posted by: Lynn D. | March 24, 2007 at 04:17 PM
Thanks, heather, I'm afraid my existence is a klutz-o-rama, and it has always been so.
Tanna- I'm a Carmen fan myself, Faust, not so much.I do like quite a bit of French opera-Gounod's Romeo and Juliet is a favorite .Got to say though, Verdi and Mozart are my #1 guys.
Well Lynn, guess what? I loved Cosi (the movie-not that I don't love the opera), too. This is not even surprising any more. I'm quite sure I'm not adopted, and never had a twin.
It has been some time, though, since I saw it (twice), and I'm thinking I may rent it again, now, having been reminded.
Posted by: lindy | March 24, 2007 at 06:26 PM
Oh, Lindy, what a lovely pair of posts. I loved your evocation of being in college in the '60's and early '70's. (I've always felt like I was born ten years too late.) And what a wonderful pick-up act Bill had.
I knew it was coming, and still your writing about Bill's illness and death really hit me. When Bill got sick, Paul was just recovering from his first cancer. And you know about the second one, now three years past.
Paul and I will be in Providence over Memorial Day Weekend for my 25th reunion. We met at Brown in 1981.
I think I'll tag myself for this meme. Something to get me writing again! I hope your burns heal quickly.
Posted by: Kimberly | March 25, 2007 at 03:19 AM
So interesting to have these "behind the kitchen" posts. I did see that you tagged me, and at first I was reluctant simply because of my shoddy memory. Having read your bio, though, I see that you can relate to the main reason I might not get around to it for a while:
I'm a 1L. Currently suffering through CivPro, Property, all those fun things. So reading your posts is a welcome break from in personam jurisdiction, but posting my own is a bit more than I can chew for now.
Back to it.
Posted by: littlebouffe | March 25, 2007 at 11:18 PM
Kimberly-I'll be looking forward to reading all about it...consider yourself tagged.
littlebouffe-no problem and no obligation, of course, anyway, but ESPECIALLY considering your 1L-ness! And Kimberly will do it for us.
It's not every year a person has to deal with the Rule Against Perpetuities, and the like - or as a friend called it, the "Rule against Purple Tooties".Take comfort in the fact that there are many things of that sort that you will likely never hear of again (or at least never again after the bar exam).
Posted by: lindy | March 26, 2007 at 12:10 AM
"behind the kitchen" - that's funny. thanks for sharing, lindy.
Posted by: zp | March 26, 2007 at 08:24 AM
Wonderful, wonderful post, but oh, Lindy, that burn sounds nasty. Hope it heals quickly and you're not in too much pain.
Posted by: Julie | March 27, 2007 at 06:38 PM
wow, Lindy, that was even better than the first, I really loved it. Everything you say about Italy and opera and overflowing bookcases I would sign myself. And the burns, even. I once spilt a lot of pasta boiling water on my jeans, but miraculously nothing happened. Glad you´re better
Posted by: lobstersquad | March 30, 2007 at 08:01 AM