Posted on January 28, 2012
Posted on January 24, 2012
The next door hoarders have left the building. After 15 years of renting the place they have all moved out. Great timing by us I guess. The owner of the house, who turns out is a real estate agent, called to apologize for the condition of the house and promised to remodel. He even asked Sonia what color she would like the house painted.
Posted on January 22, 2012
Posted on January 22, 2012
Posted on January 17, 2012
So, I started a 10 day detox plan created by a company called sunfare. It consists of a couple of “medical” shakes and about 1000 calories of meals/snacks a day. Each day they deliver a cooler to the porch by 6am.
I began Monday morning by skipping my cup of coffee and drinking a quart of organic sludge on my drive to work. It was pasty, but manageable. At around 9am, I had one Asian chicken lettuce cup. It tasted like rabbit food. I then canceled my pre Clipper game brunch with Dad because that would just be torture. At 11:30am I forced down a cold piece of Salmon and pineapple before heading off to the game. I just kept telling myself, nothing tastes better than skinny.
Once at the game I tried to ignore the hot dogs and beer. Luckily, the Clippers are pretty entertaining, so no big deal. At halftime I ordered a bottle of water (a first!) and settled in for the rest of the game. It was around the fourth quarter mark that I started to feel a bit off. The Clippers blew a big lead and were soon tied, but I knew I was nauseous for another reason. I fought off the urge to puke on heads of the grandfather and grandson sitting in front of us for the rest of the game and gave my Dad a quick hug and took off for the exits (no way was I puking in a Staples Center bathroom).
I tried to walk as quickly as possible to the restaurants across the street without losing my lunch. I settled on the Rockin’ Fish and Seafood restaurant because I already knew where the bathroom was and couldn’t spare any time. I literally plugged my nose when entering and made a beeline for the bathroom and found the one and only stall empty. A true miracle considering the game just finished.
I hung up my sports coat, kneeled down and made my sacrifice to the porcelain God. The sheer volume and violence of the transaction quickly brought me back to college. Which now reminds me that Marquette beat Louisville, so I’m still marking the day down as a good one. Anyway, back to my knees. The jerking motion caused my sunglasses to fall into the pot which actually made me chuckle because that’s exactly how I’d write the scene. Unfortunately, they were just expensive enough that I had to fish them out with my hand. Ten minutes later, face drenched with sweat, I was ready to call it a day.
I bought a bottle of water and drove home. The minute I opened the front door of my house I realized I wasn’t done. I hurried into the bathroom an emptied my stomach of the water I had just drank. Although I had nothing else to give, the convulsions lasted for another five or six times. Confident I had given everything I could, I shuffled off to the den and passed out on the couch.
Later that evening, I canceled my 10 day cleanse. But on the bright side, I lost one pound.
Posted on January 16, 2012
Posted on January 14, 2012
Posted on January 8, 2012
Posted on January 7, 2012
Posted on January 7, 2012
Posted on January 4, 2012
My Dad officially stepped down today as Managing Partner of Seyfarth Shaw. As he says, it is the first step of a four or five year retirement plan. Whether or not retirement actually happens in that timeframe remains to be seen, but today was probably the most significant day of his career since making partner. I still remember the latter some thirty years ago despite the unremarkable celebration. Along with my mother, we met him in the garage as he arrived home. I think there was a “welcome home, partner” sign taped to the door. A hug or two. And that’s about it. But what he did after that day, for the firm, for the people who worked there, and most importantly for his family, has been nothing short of extraordinary. I won’t embarrass him with a list of his professional accomplishments, but thankfully he was kind enough to dissuade all of his children from following in his footsteps because the failure of measuring up would have been inevitable. Instead, every so often, we got to bask in his glow, me especially. I remember from a relatively early age just how revered and respected my Dad was amongst his clients and colleagues. I would always walk taller when I stepped out of that elevator to visit him at his Century City office. I was proud to approach the receptionist and formally announce that I was there to see Kenwood Youmans. “And you are?” she would say. “His son, Kenwood Youmans.” I would reply. The reaction often provided a hint of what it was like to be admired. I wasn’t beyond this practice well into adulthood. Whether I was picking up baseball tickets at the San Francisco office, or meeting with a partner at the Chicago office for career advice, I relished the moment that I announced that Kenwood Youmans was here for whomever it was I was meeting with. I’m sure my Dad was never as self aware as I was in those moments. And I’m sure he doesn’t realize just how admired and respected he is within his firm and the profession as a whole. But, it’s quite easy to see from the outside. And it’s not just because he rose to the top, but rather it’s how he did it and how he presided while there. He was the smartest guy in the room, but always deferred the credit. As most successful leaders, he recognized the potential in others and shepherded them to their highest peaks. He was never loud or disrespectful when pushed, but instead called on the power and complexity of his immense vocabulary to confuse and disarm even the most worthy of foes. And his work ethic was unmatched. But the most likely reason his colleagues kept him at his perch longer than anyone expected was for three simple, yet elusive traits for a man in his position. His fairness, his generosity, and most importantly, his kindness. I know little about what my Dad does, but I know much about how he goes about it. And that’s what makes all of us so proud.
Posted on January 2, 2012
Posted on January 1, 2012