Wednesday, September 2, 2026
The Agrarian's Lament: On Wendell Berry. An introspection.
Monday, August 31, 2026
Lex Anteinternet: On starting a 37th Year I will not finish.
On starting a 37th Year I will not finish.
I was admitted to practice 36 years ago today.
Back when the Rocky Mountain News was still a thing, they used to run columns by Charley Reese. I didn't always agree with them by any means, Reese was a dyed in wool Confederate Gray Southerner, but they were often quite interesting. I can recall his final column when he noted he was going to retire. On the timing he said something like "when you know, you know".
I'm at that point.
My wife, however, definitely isn't at that point for me, an ongoing source of conflict.
In Wyoming, and maybe in most places, lawyers are admitted to the bar in August for the most part. A second, smaller crops, is admitted in March or so. I was admitted in August, 36 years ago.
Back in September 2025 I started a thread about having passed the 35 year mark but never published it. I was angry about something at the time, pretty clearly, and it was a very bitter posts. I thought better of it and didn't post it, but I didn't wipe it out until recently. I reread it and then did so, even though much of what I wrote in it is still true.
All careers are individual, of course which is what makes career advice so dangerous. I've known people, for instance, who served in the military and absolutely hated it. The entire film M*A*S*H and the television series is, in no small part, based on a hatred of military service, although the book's author, a conservative, ironically did not hate his. The same is true, for what it's worth, of Catch 22. Heller actually admired the military he lampooned. Both books were hugely successful, however, as they not only tapped into the oddities of military life, but also into a hatred of it in some quarters.
In contrast, I've known people who loved it, and I myself liked it.
I note that as I suppose that the law is the same way, maybe all careers are.
That aside, the law is unique and is well known for being so.
The law has an alcoholism and alcohol abuse rate that's far higher than other professions. That isn't the only abusive trait in it, however. It's estimated that something like 60% of lawyers have had in the office sexual infidelities and while I haven't tried to add up percentages, and that percentage seems high, there are indeed a lot of them. The law also has some really screwball personalities in it, although I'm at the point where I now wonder if those personalities became that way due to the law, or entered the law because of it. In my current Gen. Jones stage of life, I'm amazed by the number of burnt out husks of people who won't retire from the law as that's all they have.
I'm not the only one who's noticed that, and a recent conversation is part of what brought me back to this thread. In speaking to an opposing lawyer I've known a long time by phone, on a holiday, he brought up the very things I've noted, this included. Indeed, he noted that for a lot of people, they'd become lawyers, that's what they now were as part of their personality. That's all that's left.
That should never happen, but the law is an all consuming job.
He was actually a bit angry about it. I'm not angry, but I don't want to become one of those people. My friend noted that what he "is", is a hunter and mountain climber. What he "does" is be a lawyer. That's pretty much true for me as well, although I'd substitute outdoorsmen for climber.
He also had the observation that after working years at the law, late nights, early days, weekends, that he and his wife did things together rarely. The pressure of work brought that about. That's pretty much the same story in my own life. Another lawyer I know just had his wife of about 30 years just up and leave him, leaving him wondering why. It seems a "therapist" suggested that, and frankly I have a dim view of most therapist or counsellors, but what I suspect is that the same thing was at work. That fellow had told me not all that long, before the disaster came, that he was never going to retire, because he enjoyed the fellowship of the lawyers.
Well, nothing that we do at work is something "enjoyed" by our spouses, except for perhaps the money. If the lawyer is really one of those ones who enjoys the courtroom combat, or the intellectual challenge, the spouses don't participate in that at all.
Money can matter, however. Yet another lawyer I know, about my same age, is trying to retire but is upset as his wife just can't grasp that the funding burn rate has to stop. I think a lot of lawyers who keep on keeping on face that with a family member or perhaps themselves. From the outside, you know they'd be fine. But to them, or a loved one, the fear of no further income will just drive them into the grave, working. Fears of that type, and not my own, have kept me working for the past four years.
The law is not only an all consuming occupation, it's one that's soul destroying. Many "plaintiffs' lawyers" have really lost their humanity. Not all by any means, but quite a few. They really don't care about the people they represent in many instances. It's one of the thing that makes practicing law so dispiriting and damaging to your own soul. Most of the propaganda that lawyers and law firms of a certain type being there to help people is pure crap. They don't mean it, and everyone inside the law knows that. Simply practicing law, at some point, or perhaps more accurately being in litigation, is participating on a fraud on the public.
I'm told I'm really good at the law. If that's true it's proof you can be good at something that you really don't love. I'm beyond the point of not loving it anymore.
I entered the profession for the same reasons a lot of people do. My earlier career had not worked out and I didn't seem to have any other place to go. I had started off obtaining a very difficult science degree only to graduate into an economy where I was unemployable. This is, I'd note, more common than a person might suppose. There was no family business to step into. What I really wanted to do, and still do, wasn't open to me. Even at that, I hesitated and I chose not to enter the law school class I was admitted into. I waited a year hoping to find work, and didn't. Soldiering was the work that year. I guess I could have chosen to make that a career, and in some ways I"m surprised I didn't.
The last year of my undergraduate degree I tried switch to a different field:
The road not taken.
Sigh. . .
I'd be offered a summer position with them, but not until years later, at which point I was already practicing law and engaged. I've posted on that before.
If 'd had my druthers, which hardly anyone does, I would have have been a rancher. I have been around agriculture which is to say that I would have ranched full time. I came close it without really realizing it after law school right as my father was looking at retiring. We came close to the two of us starting a place, and then he died. I abandoned that particular effort in order to help my mother, who had no such interest. Laster I found she was baffled why I hadn't let her know.
My wife and I have always had cattle, but it's never been a full time thing. Sometimes it's promised to almost be that, but it never has. Now I'm 63 and time has moved on. It's something I'll never recover from. It was one of the goals that kept me at my desk job, and now the goal can't be met.
Time and effort wasted.
There are some things that are quite scary about time moving on, I'll note. Fear of death is not one of them. I constantly hear that people are supposed to be afraid of death, but I've lived pretty close to death my entire life and I'm not. If death arrives before my plans play out, well, so be it. Nobody knows the day nor the hour. Momento mori.
But what has moved on is the opportunity to complete a bunch of things I used to do and be engaged in before I started practicing law. That must show something about my own character, as other lawyers take long vacations and the like, but I don't really seem capable of devoting time to vocations and avocations. I'll leave it to the reader to decide which is which. The interest in those pursuits remains, however.
Gone is interest in the law itself. I'm not interested nor fascinated in it. I never loved it in the first place, but I have had over the years a reputation as being a legal scholar. I still get calls from various lawyers about legal situations which are rare or difficult. The difference is that I no longer find them interesting at all.
At one time, seeing as I was a lawyer, I really wanted to be a judge, which is a position for legal scholars, and I've applied within our system a bunch of times, and been encouraged to do so by judges. Now I'm too old, as mandatory retirement is at age 70 and the committee isn't going to appoint somebody at age 63 for a single term. Or I suppose not. To my surprise, they recently almost in fact did that in a district in which very few people were applying for the position. The past two Governors and the Judicial Nominating Committee have pretty much wrecked the process for successful lawyers, so applications are way down.
Indeed, one of my frustrations with the practice of law has been watching the decline of the judicial nominating system, which has grown much more political over the last few decades. When I started out you could really see why various judges got appointed to their positions. When Matt Mead became Governor, however, he had an agenda of appointing women and that's what he was going to do. That was a politically motivated bias and it meant if there was a man up for the same position, he wasn't getting it.
Governor Gordon has had a very strong bias towards prosecutors, although there are some exceptions.
The oncoming Governor, Barlow, will be interesting to watch in this regard. He's a professional himself (veterinarian) and perhaps he'll take a more informed and balanced view.
Anyhow, after 36 years of this, it's time to move on, so I'm moving on. I'll complete this year, but I'm not starting another one.
Indeed, on the topic, I'm capable of reading the signs. The American dream is that you live to age 100 and die in your sleep. You probably aren't going to.
Over the last couple of years I've watched some of the lawyers who are older than me decline pretty seriously in some ways. And I'm declining too. I had colon surgery out of the blue, something that probably could have been averted if I'd had regular colon checkups like you are supposed to. Going through that process I ended up having an odd thing on my thyroid discovered. Half my thyroid ended up coming out, although I probably could have avoided that if I was willing to risk it being nothing, which didn't seem to be a solid risk at the time. Now I have to take pills every day for the first time in my life.
A year ago the eye doctor noted something peculiar in my eye. Last week, on my follow up exam, it was clear it was a tiny cataract It's not a problem yet, but it probably will be in "ten years". I'm young for a cataract, but it's due to an injury.
I've endured a lot of injuries over the years.
I'm considerably more tired than I used to be, and my physical stamina, still pretty good, has declined. I could probably address this as people ought to at my age by exercise, but my schedule is incredibly burdened.
I don't handle stress anywhere near as good as I used to, however, and stress is a killer.
So, in four months, I'm done.
The big challenge now is letting everyone know, and getting my wife to accept it. That part isn't going to be easy at all.
It's not going to be easy as at least my long suffering spouse doesn't want to believe I'm at this point. I've been mentioning it, but when retirement comes up, it's always "you can't". Retirement is, she suggests, a year further in the future than I imagine it.
A year isn't much, but it's a year. I hear all the time that somebody retired and then died, as if retirement killed them. Really, they just hang on too long.
And again, that hanging on is a funny thing. I've watched one lawyer who has no family (divorced) and who has no faith keep on going to work. I guess it's his identify . I mentioned retiring to him once and he scoffed, saying "good luck". Of course, I don't have to pay alimony and I don't take expensive trips.
I've also watched a couple of very ill lawyers hang on after their illness set in. It provided a distraction I guess. Indeed, on the very odd occasion I mention this to anyone people always suggest a law job I could take in retirement, which isn't what I have in mind at all.
In contrast, one lawyer who experienced a health care scare recently, one year younger than me told me that next year was definitely the date. When I expressed doubt, the reply was "watch me".
What you are supposed to say, like Edith Piaf, is that you have no regrets about your career as a lawyer.
I can't say that.
I probably should feel that way. Just yesterday, once again, thinking over the past 36 years I came to the conclusion that with the box I was in, I did the only thing I could do. True or not, and it's probably true, hindsight being 20/20, I'd have avoided the law like the plague if I'd known what it was like. As noted above, I'm sure there are people who look back and say they loved every second of it.
I'm not one of them.
To compound things, I've been in litigation the entire time. That was a mistake, as I'm not well suited for it internally. I'm an introvert and I don't like being in extroverted situations. I just couldn't find a way out of it.
Well, anyhow, page one of the concluding chapter.
So now, I have to start informing people. This isn't going to be fun at all, but knowing myself, if I don't, it won't become real.
I've never liked doing trials. Some lawyers claim to love them, and I suppose they do. There's something in their personalities, a defect really, which requires them to test their wits against other people. Most lawyers don't like doing them, and most of the lawyers who say they do, are lying.
Like baseball players before a game, most lawyers have some sort of ritual before they try a case. At one time, as late as the early 90s, that ritual for quite a few involved heavy drinking. I don't think that's the case so much anymore. Frankly, while conservatives are all worked up about it in some quarters, I think that's one of the things that the massive introduction of women into the law changed, and for the better.
When I get close to trials, I usually rewatch The Wild Bunch. I know that's odd, but I love that movie and I find it very engaging. Part of the reason that I watch it in this context is that the protagonists in the move are basically all mercenaries of a sort. Yes, I know that they're criminals, but still. And there's not one redeeming person in their whole contest.
Everyone who likes movies is familiar with the famous concluding gunbattle of the movie. But that's not the last scene. Former gang member turned bounty hunter Deke Thornton is waiting outside the town gate as evening arrives, having sent the dead bodies of the gang back with the other bounty hunters. Elderly gang member Skyes rides up with Mexican Indians and the following exchange occurs.
Sykes: I didn't expect to find you here.
Deke Thornton: Why not? I sent them back. That's all I said I'd do.
Sykes: They didn't get very far.
Deke Thornton: I figured.
Sykes: What are your plans, now?
Deke Thornton: Drift around down here. Try to stay out of jail.
Sykes: Well, me and the boys got some work to do. You want to come with us? It ain't like it used to be, but it'll do.
That's how I feel about things. I intend to hunt, fish, work cattle, write and put in a garden.
But even if I only do a faction of that stuff, it'll be okay.
It ain't like it used to be, but it'll do.
Sunday, August 17, 2025
Lex Anteinternet: Roads not taken.
Roads not taken.
I've noted here before that I'm highly introspective. Given that, I can't help but look at the road not taken, particularly when I'm oddly reminded of it.
Brian Nesvik was just confirmed as the Trump administrations head of the U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service.
I'm not sure when most people start contemplating a career. I sometimes hear people say the most unlikely things, such as "I always wanted to be a lawyer" or "I always wanted to be an actuary". When I hear those things, I don't believe them unless the person is downright weird.
Existential occupations, however, are different, and I can imagine a person always wanting to occupy one of them. I've defined existential occupations in this way:
Being a soldier is, I think, an existential occupation, but only for men. I'm not sure what to say about being a policeman of any kind, but I think that's likely the case for that occupation as well.
Growing up as a boy, one of the occupations I really wanted to do was to be a soldier. It wasn't the only one I contemplated. As noted here, I've always been really strongly attracted to agriculture. Most days find me at my office practicing law, but that was never a childhood dream and it didn't occur to me at all until I was in college. Law is the great middle class reserve occupation, truth be known.
At some point I began to struggle with my childhood desire to be a soldier. It'd take me away from the state, which I didn't like the idea of. I knew then, when I was more realistic about life choices than I am now, that I really couldn't hope for a career in agriculture, which is what I'd have done if I could have. And the days of Wolfers and other professional hunters were long over, of course. So around about that time, probably 13, 14 or 15 years old, I started thinking about becoming a Wyoming Game Warden.
I didn't give up the soldiering idea right away. But it occured to me that I could become a National Guardsman, and stay here in the state. So I hit upon the idea of going to university, then doing a hit in the Army as an officer, and then coming back out and becoming a Game Warden while staying in the National Guard. This idea was so formulated in my mind at the time that I imagined myself entering the Air Cavalry, which at the time was a really cool branch of the Army, and the serving with the Army National Guard Air Cav Scout Troop in Cheyenne.
I was still on this track when as a junior in high school my father and I spoke about my career plans. By "spoke" I mean a conversation that probably had three or four sentences in it. My father wasn't big on career advice for reasons I understand now, but didn't really grasp then. My mother was much more likely to voice an opinion about education and what I should do than my father, but I tended to flat out ignore my mother, particularly as her mental status declined with illness. She'd have had me enter one of the hard sciences, which I in fact did (I guess I listened to her some) and go to a school like Notre Dame.
Anyhow, I told my father that I was going to study wildlife management. He only mentioned that "there are a lot of guys around here with wildlife management degrees that can't find jobs". That was enough to deter me from pursuing that degree right then and there, so rare was his advice in this area.
As it happened, I pursued another field of science but I did join the National Guard, doing so right out of high school as soon as I turned 18 years old. One of the reasons I did that was that I also was contemplating being a writer, and I thought I'd probably write on history topics. As a lot of history involves armed conflict, being in the Army in some fashion seemed like a good thing to do in order to understand the background.
I was right.
Indeed, joining the Guard was the last really smart career decision I made. I'm clearly not very good at career decisions.
To play the story out, I was a geology major. I graduated with a degree in geology, and couldn't find work as the oilfield and coal industries collapsed (sound familiar, Wyoming?). While at Casper College law was suggested to me by a history professor (I have so many credits in history that I coudl have picked up a BA in it with little effort) and it seemed like a good idea as I didn't know any lawyers and had no idea what they did.
Lots of people become lawyers that way. Indeed, I know one other lawyer who became one due to the exact same advice from the exact same fellow.
But even at that, when I knew that I wasn't going to get a job as a geologist, I entertained picking up a BS in wildlife management. By that point, my father was supporting me in the goal. Evan so, his advance five years prior stuck with me, and I didn't do it. I ended up going to law school, and I ended up letting myself ETS out of the Guard, as I thought, in error, that law school is hard.
Law school, as an aside, isn't hard. Any idiot can graduate with a JD and pass the bar. And while I only have experience with one law school, I dare say that this is true of any law school Harvard JD? So fucking what?
Still, the idea resurfaced one more time. A friend of mine and I went down to the Game Warden exam and I was offered a temporary summer job, the usual introductory way into the Wyoming Game and Fish Department at the time. At that time, usually those who picked up summer work did it for a few years before being offered a full time job. My wife and I had just gotten engaged, so I ended up declining the job.
Yes, I'm an idiot.
Well, not really. But as noted, I'm not good at career decisions.
Brian Nesvik is a Casper native. He decided to become a Game Warden when he was fourteen years old and met a game warden on his first big game hunting trip as a licensed hunter.
He's 55 years of age now. He's a graduate of the University of Wyoming where he received a bachelor's degree. He was a member of the Wyoming Army National Guard from 1986 to 2021 and rose to the rank of Brigadier General. Sources say he graduated high school from Cheyenne East in 1988, but I can't make that make sense. I can accept it was 1987 and he was definitely in the Guard in 1986, the year I got out. He's a 1994 graduate of the University of Wyoming, which would suggest that he did something else for awhile as even with the late 1988 date, that would have been six years after graduating high school. I somewhat wonder if he had military service prior to going to university, but I don't know that. He wears a 1st Cavalry Division DI as a combat patch, as noted, which is interesting.
His career as a game warden was very notable, and he became the state's chief game warden, the pinnacle of the game warden chain of command. His military career is also impressive, noting the following:
Apr 18 Dec 21 Assistant Adjutant General, Cheyenne, WY
Jan 16 Mar 18 J3/7, Joint Fore Headquarters, Cheyenne, Wyoming
Sep 15 Jan 16 G1, Joint Force Headquarters, Cheyenne, Wyoming
Feb 15 Sep 15 Chief Facilities Maintenance Officer, Joint Force Headquarters, Cheyenne, Wyoming
Jun 10 Feb 15 Commander, 115th Fires Brigade
Apr 09 Jun 10 Commander, 2nd Battalion, 300th Field Artillery, Camp Virginia, Kuwait
May 07 Apr 09 Commander, 2nd Battalion, 300th Field Artillery, Sheridan, Wyoming
Oct 06 May 07 S-3, Headquarters, 115th Field Artillery Brigade, Cheyenne, Wyoming
Oct 05 Oct 06 Operations Officer, Headquarters, 115th Field Artillery Brigade, Cheyenne, Wyoming
Feb 04 Oct 05 Commander, 2nd Battalion, 300th Field Artillery (FWD), Baghdad, Iraq
Oct 03 Feb 04 Executive Officer, Headquarters, 2nd Battalion, 300th Field Artillery, Sheridan, Wyoming
Jul 02 Oct 03 S-3, Headquarters, 2nd Battalion, 300th Field Artillery, Sheridan, Wyoming
Aug 01 Jul 02 S-4, Headquarters, 2nd Battalion, 300th Field Artillery, Sheridan, Wyoming
Jun 00 Aug 01 Operations Officer, Headquarters, 2nd Battalion, 300th Field Artillery, Sheridan, Wyoming
Oct 97 Jun 00 Commander, Battery C, 2nd Battalion, 300th Field Artillery, Worland, Wyoming
Jul 97 Oct 97 Fire Direction Officer, Headquarters, 2nd Battalion, 300th Field Artillery, Sheridan, Wyoming
Oct 96 Jul 97 Platoon Leader, Battery A, 2nd Battalion, 300th Field Artillery, Gillette, Wyoming
Jul 94 Oct 96 Executive Officer, Battery A, 3rd Battalion, 49th Field Artillery, Lander, Wyoming
Jul 93 Jul 94 Fire Support Officer, Headquarters Battery, 3rd Battalion, 49th Field Artillery, Laramie, Wyoming
Jul 90 Jul 93 Fire Direction Officer, Battery A, 3rd Battalion, 49th Field Artillery, Lander, Wyoming
Dec 86 Jul 90 Flight Operations Specialist, 920th Medical Company (Air Ambulance), Cheyenne, Wyoming
This is an interesting article:
Catholic Parents: Free the Hearts of Your Daughters
The author of it, Leila Miller, had to know that she was really swimming against the tide with this one.
Indeed, I'm reluctant to even post on this, as there are a lot of pronatalist nutjobs out there right now that immediately latch on to such things. But, here goes anyone.
Almost every Sunday I go to Mass at the same Catholic Church. The celebrant there is an absolutely excellent homilist. Probably most Priests give homilies that are good from time to time, but his are consistently great, which is rare in the extreme. So much so, really, that I'd put him alone in this particular class in regard to those which I've personally experienced.
He's very orthodox, which doesn't keep a wide number of parishioners to attending his Masses. In fact, for the first time last week, I could barely find a place to sit. I was attending with my daughter, who is about to go back to grad school.
Lots of weeks this parish features a fair number of young women wearing mantillas. Not every week, however. It's interesting . Some weeks they're all missing. I don't know for sure, but I suspect that those are the weeks the Byzantine Catholic Church has Divine Liturgy in town. The Byzantine Catholic service is conservative by default.
These are not the only young women there. There are quite a few, but most dress like young women in this region do, if a little nicer. My daughter, for instance, would never consider wearing a mantilla. I know a few of them, but only a few. There's the recently married nurse, whom I've known for a long time. There's the young lawyer and her family. And there's the girl working in the sporting goods shop.
The latter is particularly interesting as she just graduated high school about a year ago. She's been working there for about a year as well. Her concerned grandmother told me that she's been hoping that she goes to college and that she's very smart. Apparently, she has no desire to do so.
Most of the young women I know, and I know them only barely, are either newly minted lawyers or friends of my daughter. My daughter, as noted, is in grad school. Some of those young women are as well. Some have graduated from school already and are in the early stages of careers of one kind or another. Because we live on the shores of jello belt, a few are Mormons, who are already married (Mormons tend to marry young) and have children.
There are a lot of misperceptions about Catholics, including Catholics and marriage. Catholics do not, and never have, tended to marry young. The opposite is actually the case. My parents were in their late 20s and early 30s when then married. My mother's parents were about the same. I think my father's parents were in their early 20s, which isn't up there, but it's not as if its a teenage wedding either. Anyhow, most Catholic women fit in to the general demographics for American women in general on these topics, although not strictly so. The mantilla women are outliers.
What do they all hope for?
That's hard, if not impossible, to say. Each person's hopes and dreams are personal to them. . . but. . . well, within the confines of the nature of our species.
So perhaps they're more determinabel than we might think.
Peter, most people don't like their jobs. But you go out there and you find something that makes you happy.
You can't go back home to your family, back home to your childhood, back home to romantic love, back home to a young man's dreams of glory and of fame, back home to exile, to escape to Europe and some foreign land, back home to lyricism, to singing just for singing's sake, back home to aestheticism, to one's youthful idea of 'the artist' and the all-sufficiency of 'art' and 'beauty' and 'love,' back home to the ivory tower, back home to places in the country, to the cottage in Bermude, away from all the strife and conflict of the world, back home to the father you have lost and have been looking for, back home to someone who can help you, save you, ease the burden for you, back home to the old forms and systems of things which once seemed everlasting but which are changing all the time--back home to the escapes of Time and Memory.
Tomorrow it will be 28 years to the day that I've been in the service. 28 years in peace and war. I don't suppose I've been at home more than 10 months in all that time. Still, it's been a good life. I loved India. I wouldn't have had it any other way. But there are times... when suddenly you realize you're nearer the end than the beginning. And you wonder, you ask yourself, what the sum total of your life represents. What difference your being there at any time made to anything - or if it made any difference at all, really. Particularly in comparison with other men's careers. I don't know whether that kind of thinking's very healthy, but I must admit I've had some thoughts on those lines from time to time. But tonight... tonight!
Col Nicholson in The Bridge On The River Kwai.
Related threads:
Work with meaning and the meaning of work.
A conversation with an old friend. The Good Death, and the Good Life and Existential Occupations.
Wednesday, May 8, 2024
Lex Anteinternet: A conversation with an old friend. The Good Death, and the Good Life and Existential Occupations.
A conversation with an old friend. The Good Death, and the Good Life and Existential Occupations.
A really old friend of mine and I were talking about it just last week.
I had to catch up with him as he was working on something for me. It was Friday, but I was fairly formally dressed and he noted it. The reason was that I had just come from my uncle's funeral earlier that day. He extended his sympathies, but I noted that my uncle had lived a long and good life. Not a life free of troubles, as no such thing existed, but a long life, that was well lived, and he'd remained sharp right up until the end. His health had declined in recent years, but only in very recent ones. It was the last few months that were rough.
My friend and I, who first knew each other as National Guardsmen back in the 80s, are co-religious. Neither of us was married when we first met, but both of us have, and have seen our kids grow up since then. And of course, we've seen our parents pass away, his before mine. He has siblings, which I do not, and one of his brothers died, only in his 50s. I noted that in the Middle Ages, people often prayed for good deaths, and he noted that a prayer group that he's in now does that every week.
Prayer for a Happy Death
O God, great and omnipotent judge of the living and the dead, we are to appear before you after this short life to render an account of our works. Give us the grace to prepare for our last hour by a devout and holy life, and protect us against a sudden and unprovided death. Let us remember our frailty and mortality, that we may always live in the ways of your commandments. Teach us to "watch and pray" (Lk 21:36), that when your summons comes for our departure from this world, we may go forth to meet you, experience a merciful judgment, and rejoice in everlasting happiness. We ask this through Christ our Lord. Amen.
I'm constantly amazed by people who work into old age, as I'd judge it, and keeping working. A dear friend of mine, now in his 70s, noted that just the other day. He doesn't have to, he just is. Likewise, I know a collection of lawyers who fit that description. The law is a hard job, surrounded by hard facts, hard people, and difficult scenarios
I think they just know nothing else, their real personalities, perhaps, burnt to the core eons ago.
In contrast, I'm also constantly amazed by those who have extensive plans for their retirements well before they can retire. Another friend of mine fits this category, but when I look at him, I can tell his physical condition is so poor it'd be amazing if he lives long enough to retire. It's one of those things where you don't know what to say. If you were to be blunt, you'd say that the dreams of early retirement are probably forlorn, but that his dreams of retiring at all may be foreclosed by a bad early death, if some correction isn't made soon, and those corrections are harder to make once you are past your 30s.
The call came to my wife on Saturday. I could tell from the tone what the topic was, without even being told. A relative of hers was on his way to the hospital by helicopter. Even though he was being sent in, in that fashion, I knew, but did not say it, that he'd not make it. I'm not even sure if he wanted to.
And so another death.
In this case, unlike my uncle, he was much younger. My age, in fact. I hadn't seen him for many years, and before his troubles really set in. He hadn't been able to adjust to them well. The most common comment from people, none of whom were surprised, was that his torment was over.
I don't have any big plans, like one of my friends, for retirement. I hope to be healthy, and just become more of an agrarian-killetarian than I presently am. Funny thing is that recently I've been running into people who claim "you're looking really good". Somebody asked me the other day, indeed at the funeral gathering, "you're working out", the question in the form of a statement. Not really.
Indeed, I've gained some weight I seemingly just can't lose, which I think is the byproduct of my thyroid medicine, which has made me hungry, and I know that I'm not in the physical condition I was before my recent health troubles commenced. People close to me just won't accept that, which brings me to the other side of the retirement coin noted above. Some lawyers I know are already planning for me to work into my 70s, as that's the thing to do, apparently. Long-suffering spouse, for her part, won't say something like that, but from an ag family, she doesn't really accept the concept of retirement anyhow. Having said that, I wouldn't plan on my retiring from the ag operation either.
It finally occured to me, however, what's different about agricultural jobs as opposed to others, at least if you are an owner of the enterprise or part of it. The occupation itself is existentially human. It is, if you will, an Existential Occupation, or at least it is right now. The mindless gerbil like advance of "progress" may ruin that and reduce it to just another occupation.
Existential Occupations are ones that run with our DNA as a species. Being a farmer/herdsman is almost as deep in us as being a hunter or fisherman, and it stems from the same root in our being. It's that reason, really, that people who no longer have to go to the field and stream for protein, still do, and it's the reason that people who can buy frozen Brussels sprouts at Riddleys' still grown them on their lots. And its the reason that people who have never been around livestock will feel, after they get a small lot, that they need a cow, a goat, or chickens. It's in us. That's why people don't retire from real agriculture.
It's not the only occupation of that type, we might note. Clerics are in that category. Storytellers and Historians are as well. We've worshiped the Devine since our onset as a species, and we've told stories and kept our history as story the entire time. They're all existential in nature. Those who build certain things probably fit into that category as well, as we've always done that. The fact that people tinker with machinery as a hobby would suggest that it's like that as well.
Indeed, if it's an occupation. . . and also a hobby, that's a good clue that its an Existential Occupation.
If I were to retire from my career, which I can't right now, I wouldn't be one of those people who spend their time traveling to Rome or Paris or wherever. I have very low interest in doing that. I'd spend my time writing, fishing, hunting, gardening (and livestock tending). That probably sounds pretty dull to most people. I could imagine myself checking our Iceland or Ireland, or fjords in Norway, but I likely never will.
What I can't imagine myself doing is imagining that age and decline don't occur, and that I should be in court in my 70s. I don't think that the lawyers who do that realize that younger lawyers don't admire that, and most of the lawyers I'm running into in court are younger than me now.
And indeed, frankly, it isn't admirable. People who work a hard non-existential job and keep at it into their advanced old age, or at least past their 7th decade, have just lost something they were when they were young, and much of that is themselves. They've lost who they were.
AN ACT OF FAITH IN ANTICIPATION OF THE HOUR OF DEATH
From the works of St. Pompilio M. Pirrotti
On my journey toward eternity, dear Lord,
I am surrounded by powerful enemies of my soul.
I live in fear and trembling,
especially at the thought of the hour of death,
on which my eternity will depend,
and of the fearful struggle that the devil will then have to wage against me,
knowing that little time is left for him to accomplish my eternal ruin.
I desire, therefore, O Lord,
to prepare myself for it from this hour,
by offering you now, in view of my last hour,
my profession of faith and love for you,
which is so effectual in repressing and rendering useless
all the crafty and wicked schemes of the enemy
and which I resolve to oppose to him at that moment of such grave consequence,
even though he should dare alone to attack with his deceits
the peace and tranquility of my spirit.
I N.N.,
in the presence of the Most Holy Trinity,
the blessed Virgin Mary,
my holy Guardian Angel
and the entire heavenly host,
affirm that I wish to live and die under the standard of the Holy Cross.
I firmly believe all that our Holy Mother,
the holy, catholic and apostolic Church,
believes and teaches.
It is my steadfast intention to die in this holy faith,
in which all the holy martyrs, confessors and virgins of Christ have died,
as well as all those who have saved their souls.
If the devil should tempt me to despair
because of the multitude and grievousness of my sins,
I affirm that from this day forth
I firmly hope in the infinite mercy of God,
which will not let itself be overcome by my sins,
and in the Precious Blood of Jesus
which has washed all my sins away.
If the devil should assail me with temptations to presumption
by reason of the small amount of good
which by the help of God
I may have been able to accomplish,
I confess from this day forth
that I deserve eternal separation from God
a thousand times by my sins
and I entrust myself entirely
to the infinite goodness of God,
through whose grace alone I am what I am.
Finally, if the evil spirit should suggest to me
that the pains inflicted upon me by our Lord
in that last hour of my life
are too heavy to bear,
I affirm now that all will be as nothing
in comparison with the punishments I have deserved throughout life.
In the bitterness of my soul
I call to remembrance all my years;
I see my iniquities, I confess them and detest them.
Ashamed and sorrowful I turn to you,
my God, my Creator and my Redeemer.
Forgive me, O Lord, by the multitude of your mercies;
forgive your servant whom you have redeemed by your Precious Blood.
My God, I turn to you, I call upon you, I trust in you;
to your infinite goodness
I commit the entire reckoning of my life.
I have sinned greatly, O Lord:
enter not into judgment with your servant,
who surrenders to you
and confesses his guilt.
Of myself I cannot make satisfaction to you for my countless sins:
I do not have the means to pay you for my infinite debt.
But your Son has shed his Blood for me,
and greater than all mine sins is your mercy.
O Jesus, be my Saviour!
At the hour of my fearful crossing to eternity
put to flight the enemy of my soul;
grant me grace to overcome every difficulty,
for you alone do mighty wonders.
Lord,
according to the multitude of your tender mercies
I shall enter into your dwelling place.
Trusting in your pity,
I commend my spirit into your hands!
May the Blessed Virgin Mary
and my Guardian Angel
accompany my soul into the heavenly country. Amen.
We should all hope and indeed pray for a happy death. And perhaps we should pray for a happy life, which is one worthwhile. That doesn't, quite frankly, include the "I'm going to work here at my desk until I die". That's surrendering to fear or meaningless, in most cases.
Again, there are exceptions. People with Existential Occupations, people who own their own special business, and the like. The list can't really be set out in full.
That doesn't include pouring through the latest edition of the IRS code for deductions, or reading the Restatement (Second) of Torts, or engineering an oilfield implement.
Sunday, March 17, 2024
Lex Anteinternet: St. Patrick's Day
St. Patrick's Day
Recently I ran this item:
Lex Anteinternet: The Obituary: Mira qué bonita era by Julio Romero de Torres, 1895. Depiction of a wake in Spain. I didn't have him as a teacher in high school, but I...
One of the things this oituary noted was:
"One more St. Patrick’s day craic for you, Dad."
That's nice, but what does that mean?
From Wikipedia:
Craic (/kræk/ KRAK) or crack is a term for news, gossip, fun, entertainment, and enjoyable conversation, particularly prominent in Ireland.It is often used with the definite article – the craic– as in the expression "What's the craic?" (meaning "How are you?" or "What's happening?"). The word has an unusual history; the Scots and English crack was borrowed into Irish as craic in the mid-20th century and the Irish spelling was then reborrowed into English. Under either spelling, the term has attracted popularity and significance in Ireland.
A relative who know the decedent well told me that in later years he really got into "being Irish" and had big St. Patrick's Day parties.
But is that Irish?
Not really. That's hosting a party.
Granted, it's hosting a party in honor of the Saint, sort of. Or perhaps in honor of Ireland, sort of. And there's nothing wrong with that whatsoever. After all, "holidays" comes from "holy days", which were "feasts". There are, by my recollection, some feast days even during Lent, and for that matter, it's often noted, but somewhat debated, that Sundays during Lent aren't technically part of it (although this post isn't on that topic, perhaps I'll address that elsewhere.
And St. Philip Neri tells us, moreover, "Cheerfulness strengthens the heart and makes us persevere in a good life; wherefore the servant of God ought always to be in good spirits."
So, no problem, right?
Well, perhaps, as long as we're not missing the point.
The Irish everywhere honor this day, and some of that involves revelry. Traditionally it was a day that events like Steeple Chases were conducted, sports being closely associated, actually, with religious holidays on the British Isles. But the day is also often marked by the devout going to Mass, and as the recent Irish election shows, the Irish are more deeply Catholic than some recent pundits might suggest.
Perhaps it might be best, really, to compare the day to the feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe in North America, which is widely observed by devout Catholics, and not only in Mexican American communities.
So, I guess, a purely bacchanalian event, which is so common in the US, doesn't really observe the holiday, but something else, and that risks dishonoring the day itself. Beyond that, it's interesting how some in North America become particularly "Irish" on this day, when in fact the root of the day, and the person it honors, would import a different type of conduct entirely to some extent, if that was not appreciated. Indeed, with many, St. Patrick would suggest confession and repentance.
Am I being too crabby?
Probably, but we strive for authenticity in our lives and desire it. That's so often at war with our own personal desires which often, quite frankly, aren't authentic. Things aren't easy.
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