Ends and Odds

This is me eating a rather enormous donut from this donut shop here in Tucson. It was quite good. I ate the entire thing. I was a little depressed afterward. Those of you who are hip to the Twitter might recognize this as my new Twitter photo. I post it here for my extensive readership that is not hip to the Twitter and really are only hip to nursing homes, Snuggies, and, ironically, replacement hips.


It has been raining a lot lately, so there is plenty of snow on the mountains. Here are a couple shots off the back patio.




This is a video taken quite early in the morning on January 13, 2010. I think it can actually double as a short film. The pathos is off the charts. I'm thinking of entering it in some festivals, so tell me what you think. (The file was too big so I had to convert it. My converter was a free trial version, hence the words. However, I think they simply add to the overall aesthetic. If my hip readers care to help with converting this file, they should contact me.)

Be good.

"He's Like a Kid Out There!"

I don't know that it is transformative or important or anything other than interesting that I was present for the last game of the Agent Zero Era. Keith, Shaleah and I watched a less-than-enthused Wizards team mail in a game against the Suns, mere hours before the plane flight card game that would lead to real guns in the locker room, finger guns in the pregame huddle and the likely end of Gilbertology. I have the magnets to prove who Gilbert was, but I doubt I'll have the opportunity to watch him play much again.

While most athletes receive second, third, and often seventh chances, the fact that Gilbert clearly is not half as good as he was prior to the knee injuries mixed with his "quirkiness" is likely going to keep him from ever getting another contract, whether he gets paid from his current one or not. Obviously, I could not have foreseen the events that would unfold when I was watching the Suns disassemble a terrible Wizards roster, but as the game went on, it was clear to me that the sideshow of Gilbert had clearly superseded the play of Gilbert. He defended no one, he shot an eight-footer that hit the side of the backboard and he did nothing to ever help any teammate succeed offensively. The quirkiness is far less endearing without good basketball accompanying it.

But the point I want to make is not that Gilbert isn't Gilbert anymore; it is that somehow it is wrong for Gilbert to be Gilbert when we want every other athlete to be themselves. I am not condoning committing felonies, but I am condoning taking joy in a game that is meant to be joyful. Today I read columnists who revise history to say that things Gilbert did int the past prove that he is imbalanced or disturbed. They write that any NBA player who would run and dunk off of a trampoline during a timeout obviously is not "fit" to take the court in the NBA. But if Brett Favre grabbed a T-shirt cannon or wanted to take part in the Dr. Pepper football-tossing challenge, the media would race to tout how he was the "gunslinger" or "just like a kid out there." (I have a recurring nightmare wherein Mike Patrick is on loop saying "And you don't think he's having fun out there??!!!" The me who exists within this dream is clad in a straitjacket and simply drones "No, Mike, I never said I didn't think that he was not having fun out there. You intimated that I thought he wasn't having fun out there when at no point I thought any such thing." I have pretty terrible grammar in my dreams, apparently).

When it comes to Gilbert, I loved that he dunked off the trampoline because he did exactly what every one of us would have done if we were lucky enough to be him. It was Gilbert himself who said: "So if that's crazy or quirky, just give me season tickets to any arena and let me sit there with 20,000 other crazy or quirky people." We wanted to jump off the trampoline, but Gilbert did it for us. He joined us as crazy or quirky people. He made the NBA more accessible by being someone who seemed normal. In fact, during that Wiz-Suns game, when the Gorilla came out to dunk off a trampoline, I was totally uninterested in the aerobatics. Instead, I told Shaleah about the time that Gilbert dunked off the trampoline, even though he was coming back from a knee injury and had a $111 million contract. I appreciated the joy he took in it, even while it might have seemed stupid.

And now that Gilbert has done something that was, rather than just seemed, stupid, it might be over for him. He won't be able to make multiple comebacks interspersed with brush clearing in Mississippi. I'm not accusing Brett Favre of breaking any laws. His worst crime has been to be annoying and manipulate the sports media. If that were a crime, there would be no professional athletes walking free. However, I just see an incongruity in celebrating Favre's version of "realness," which apparently is Wrangler jeans and mud football, and denigrating as careless Gilbert's version of "realness," which apparently is that the only currency is joking merriment.

However, for Gilbert, we will see whether the currency of fun is as useful when he doesn't have any real currency. Some fans will be pleased about his exile and the possibility of him losing that contract. But even though he allegedly has done what he allegedly has done, I cannot be pleased about his exile. I enjoyed him too much to move on that quickly.

Kobe Bryant is so good at basketball as to be an automaton. His artistry can be appreciated, but it is impossible to identify with. (Sentence-ending preposition the result of writing this during a dream!). Gilbert was more earthbound. He was clearly gifted but also understandable. For people like me, he WAS the people's champion, even if he was never a champion of anything. And while the NFL continues to placate its people's champion; the NBA's has been sent away - tossed off the entertaining edifice that he had himself built. I cannot blame others for Gilbert's failings, but I can celebrate his greater moments, that edifice that he built, that joy he brought. Those things, I can celebrate.

Who wants to talk about 1988?

The Onion AV Club, where all serious hipsters, such as myself, go to learn what they think about everything, has an ongoing feature called "Better Late Than Never." In BLTN, AV Club staffers watch a movie or read a book that pretty much everyone except them has already watched, read, discussed and disposed of. It is sort of Jim Gaffigan's bit about watching the movie Heat come to life. Since the AV Club tells me everything to think (although I don't think I should be blamed since, by and large, the movies they like I like and the movies I hate they hate), I'm going to steal their bit and talk to you about a book that came out when I was still in elementary school. That book is Friday Night Lights by H.G. "Buzz" Bissinger.

Despite the absurdity of an adult going by the name Buzz or Mr. Bissinger's rather cantankerous views on blogs and the Internet, I was thoroughly impressed by his book. I am now sporting a bruise from hitting myself in the forehead so often in exasperation as to why I did not read it earlier. However, as I have thought about it further, I think that maybe now is the best time for me to read the book.

There is nothing normal in this book. It is mind-bottling that in 1988 a high school spent $20,000 to fly its team to an away football game. It is similarly mind-bottling that high school teams did - and still do - play a 16-game season if they get to the state championship; that a team from a dusty West Texas town could compete at such a level with such consistency for so long; that some of the people in the book espouse attitudes that would have sounded racist in 1888, let alone 1988; that anyone could care as much about anything as the people of Odessa did about Odessa Permian football.

But what Bissinger does - and any good sports book does - is tell a story that is really not about sports at all. The idea of "sports as a prism for society" is a theme of almost every sports book that gets published, however, in most instances it is so nakedly presented and wildly misplaced and misunderstood as to be ridiculous. However, Bissinger weaves his tale seamlessly.

Despite my best attempts to fake it, I have difficulty reading books that are dense and boring. (Unless I'm being paid to do it, in which case, my abilities improve greatly!) As a result, I find sports books quite inviting, and my favorites are those that can tell me something more than just who caught a winning touchdown pass. And I think in the case of Friday Night Lights, it is the greatest sports book I have ever read. SI ranked it number four, but for me it is number one. (That is a great list. By my recollection, which is poor, I have read 4, 6, 7, 8, 10, 13, 20, 25, 31, 48 and 70. Not bad, but not great)

I have never watched FNL the movie or the television show, although I have heard they are good. But this book needs no dramatic rendering - it is ceaselessly dramatic. The reason that I am glad that I waited to read the book is that it allowed me to think about my own high school experience now a decade gone by. I am thankful that I didn't have to attempt to succeed in the kind of environment that existed at Odessa Permian and I cannot understand the actions of the adults who condoned it. However, for those who survived and definitely those who thrived under the lights, it must have created amazing memories.

While reading the book I was thinking that now these high school characters I was reading about are old. They turn 40 next year. They are nothing like those characters: physically, mentally or otherwise. They were a cog in a machine they did not understand, that they may never understand. Bissinger's writing does not make fun of them for being cogs. He merely relates what it was like to not have to go to class, to get free candy in your locker, to be a hero every day and especially on Friday night. Even while understanding the sheer stupidity of certain decisions and the clearly misplaced values, it can summon feelings from the past. It can make you exclaim "Oh, to be a cog!"

A Modest Prediction

My belief is that one name is currently finding itself in more law school exams than any other name this fall: Tiger Woods. The combination of his life falling apart at the end of November - the prime time when law school professors actually have to write the fall semester exams, the fact that his name is everywhere (even more than usual), and the fact that the details are sordid and lend themselves easily to all kinds of legal hypotheticals, makes it a seeming lock that plenty of students will be analyzing questions involving Tiger.

I have an exam on Monday for Community Property, in which I am about 75 percent sure there will be a Tiger Woods question. While Florida is not a community property state, most states that do not follow community property have created statutory structures to operate similarly at divorce. I presume my question will simply transfer Mr. Woods to Arizona, include a few cracks about bad driving and skanks and go from there.

The basic community property law is this: whatever money Woods made during the period when he was married (which he still is - I don't mean to bury his marriage before it is over, although he has been doing a pretty good job apparently) is community property, which must be split in half. Half goes to Ms. Nordegren and half goes to Mr. Woods. During his marriage I believe - although I have not verified - that Mr. Woods made roughly eleventy bajillion dollars. Ms. Nordegren, thus, would be entitled to half of that, or fivety point five bajillion dollars. Her half is not reimbursement or spousal support but simply an ownership interest. In a community property jurisdiction, marriage is a partnership in which the money that is earned is earned by the community, not its component members.

Money or assets that are received during marriage through gift or inheritance are not community property, but just about everything else is. For the Woodses, the golf prize money, the endorsements, the video game royalties, etc. - it is all community property.

In Arizona, community property must be split "equitably, though not necessarily in kind." Courts have generally read this to mean that not all property needs to be divided perfectly in half, but the in the aggregate the property distribution should be 50-50. A court cannot deviate from this structure, no matter the actions of the parties. And by statute, a court must make its property distribution "without regard to marital misconduct." While Mr. Woods might look to that particular language as a lifesaver, courts have often chose to make "equitable" distributions in ways that appear to punish those who have been less than perfect spouses. Mr. Woods likely would fear going before a judge in a divorce action - even if he had lots of statutes on his side.

But you protest that this is all irrelevant: Mr. Woods opted out of the community property system - and any similar statutory system - through a prenuptial agreement. While community property is a default system in community property states, couples are able to avoid the system by agreeing to alternate property schemes. The basic prenuptial agreement specifies that a couple will not share any community property except for any property that they choose to be jointly titled, such as a home or vehicle. With such an agreement, the money that each spouse makes remains their separate property, which will not be split at divorce. This likely would mean that Woods could keep his eleventy bajillion dollars, and Ms. Nordegren would get much, much less. (Obviously, the prenuptial agreement probably takes quite good care of Ms. Nordegren - they had to get her to sign it somehow - but I explain this merely to show the general outline of the law.)

What is most interesting about the prenuptial agreements issue is that in many states a prenuptial agreement is MORE likely to be enforced than a regular contract. That seems ridiculous when one considers all of the stress and, for lack of a better word, drama that often goes into the signing of such a document. However, many states have adopted the Uniform Premarital Agreements Act, which only invalidates a prenuptial agreement due to procedural unconscionability or when certain financial disclosures are not made. The UPAA entirely eschews analysis of substantive unconscionability (an impressive legal term that basically looks at whether something is fair or not) and instead will enforce prenuptial agreements as long as certain requirements were met. There is often some duress in the signing of a prenuptial agreement (such as, sign this or I'll call off the wedding) and there is often a large sophistication or power differential among the parties (hence the need for such an agreement at all). I would assume - although I do not know - that Ms. Nordegren was represented by counsel in the negotiations of a prenuptial agreement, so it is likely that the agreement is fair. But nonetheless, many prenuptial agreements are not fair, and yet courts, constrained by the law, enforce them.

Another point to make clear about prenuptial agreements is that it is not the person who has a lot of money that has all the power, but it is rather the person who has the capacity to make a lot of money that has all the power. All of the money that Mr. Woods already had was not going to become Ms. Nordegren's money just because they got married. That was his separate property money for him to do with as he liked. But it was clear that Mr. Woods was likely to make a lot of money during marriage, and it was this money that would become community property to which each spouse would have an undivided one-half interest.

If there is no prenuptial agreement or it is unenforceable, Mr. Woods will be subject to the divorce law of Florida. While I am not familiar with it specifically, I assume it is similar in structure to what has been outlined above. Many of the super-rich live in Florida to avoid income tax, but the divorce law is also something about which they should be knowledgeable. The money that they save in taxes can easily go out the door at divorce if their prenuptial agreement fails and their ex leave with half.

Additionally, there are interesting community property questions as to the home that the family lived in - such as could Ms. Nordegren receive reimbursement for community property payments made on the mortgage (if there was one?) and could Ms. Nordegren even have an ownership interest in the home due to community property money being used to pay the mortgage. Additionally, does Ms. Nordegren have an interest in trophies and other non-monetary winnings that could be considered ownership? The more likely result would be for Ms. Nordegren to receive a somewhat larger portion of the community property as an offset for Mr. Woods being allowed to keep those trophies.

The final "interesting" question (I realize no one else finds this interesting, but it is cathartic for me) is the matter of negotiating a settlement. Every settlement is negotiated "in the shadow of the law," which means that counsel must first objectively analyze the client's position and what is likely to happen at trial. Mr. Woods' reputation has already taken such a beating that it is possible he would be willing to go to trial, but it seems more likely that Ms. Nordegren could get seemingly anything she wanted in order for Mr. Woods to avoid a trial and further embarrassment. Even if Ms. Nordegren is "only" entitled to fivety point five bajillion dollars, I think she could easily ask for eight-ty point six bajillion dollars and find a willing taker.

In the end, while community property would seem to be the best candidate for Tiger Woods law school exam questions this fall, there is also the possibility of family law, criminal procedure questions, criminal law questions, negotiation, and others. It should be an exciting exam period!

Community property questions are often the domain of the super-rich, and I feel the Tiger Woods saga - however it turns out - may be fodder for law school questions for years to come. I'll let you know whether I get to write about it on Monday.

(None of the above was legal advice. This blog does not dispense legal advice. You should not look to this blog for legal advice. Looking to this blog for legal advice is prima facie evidence of lack of capacity.)

Trip Report

Kat and I went to Arizona's state capitol yesterday for a day of fun. Herewith, is the rundown of the hijinks we got into.

First, IKEA. Those Scandinavians know a thing or three about cheap furniture. We eschewed (that means "did not attempt to eat") the furniture and instead just bought some new slipcovers for our current furniture. We now have three sets of slipcovers, but most of them have been defiled by dogs. This new set will probably stay white for about a month, but what choice do you have when your pets control your life.

Second, we drove by the building where I am going to work and what was around it. We also took a look downtown. Kat seemed to like the area where I am going to work.

Third, we drove out to the Peoria Sports Complex to sit in on an intimate gathering that was the Peoria Saguaros versus the Peoria Javelinas. Thad Franklin Weber (note: middle name has not been verified) of the Detroit Tigers organization took the mound for the Javelinas in the fourth inning. Thad gave up two runs, but he was going against all-star hitters and an umpire with a strike zone that could only be seen by using the most cutting-edge technologies in microscopy. Thad said he felt good and made good pitches, and it was really cool to get to see him pitch. I don't think I had seen him on the mound in maybe eight years, although the only improvement would have been if Elliott Lloyd Gautreaux (note: middle name has been verified) was behind the plate.

Kat and I left when it became clear that Thad would not be pitching anymore. We left the assorted scouts, autograph seekers and baseball enthusiasts (that is, rather aged and portly white men) and headed over to Scottsdale. When we got to Westworld for the horse show, there was nothing going on. Our timing was quite poor. Finding nothing to catch our interest, we executed a well-known Kat Gautreaux contingency plan: go to a mall. We went to Kierland Commons (where you can buy a loft above a B.Rep for "only" $700k!) and looked around. Kat bought a shirt with a rooster on it at J.Crew.

We then went back to Peoria to meet up with Thad and his dad Les Orestes Weber (you know the drill on the middle name) at Cheesecake Factory. Kat and I got lost, so we were a little late. We had a nice dinner. Mr. Weber was quite generous. We talked to this guy for awhile. And generally a good time was had by all. Thad explained what minor league life was like and we talked about dogs and other topics. Kat purchased a salad that appeared to have been constructed by Frank Gehry. After thanking the Webers, we returned home to Tucson. The dogs were excited to see us.

All in all, it was a pretty good day.

Look back to go forward

Two long years ago one of my professors required us to write letters to our third-year law student selves. It was an interesting exercise, I guess. Anyway, now 730 days later, said professor returned those letters to us. Is my letter interesting? No. Is it enlightening? No. Is it funny? Not particularly.

I will point out that I included Kat in its drafting, lo, that 104 weeks ago. The other important thing to point out is the name on the envelope to return my letter: Jeffrey Gautieaux. Yes, clearly, I command lots of respect in these parts. Conduct yourself accordingly.

Anyway, here you go.

I'll blog even when I have nothing to say

I went to my first University of Arizona football game last night here in Tucson. The somewhat-mighty Wildcats defeated Northern Arizona 34-17. It was a pretty impressive spectacle. No one sent me the memo about wearing a red shirt, so I was one of the few U of A fans in a white shirt. However, it did not affect the outcome. I went to the game with my friend "Double D" after I received two free tickets from my friend "Rory." The crazed Wildcat fans next to "Double D" and I questioned why we weren't cheering or yelling more. In fact, at one point a woman said "You guys don't look like you are having fun." I was going to mention how sports are an intellectual exercise for me, but instead I just said "It's OK." The game was enjoyable, but I think I am done with cheering in general.

I have watched some football this weekend, and I still find it an enjoyable sport. I enjoyed the exciting mediocrity v. mediocrity battle that was Notre Dame v. Michigan. I also enjoyed the ridiculousness of the Denver/Cincinnati game, which for some reason was on here in Tucson. I am free to watch all the sports that I want with Kat at sea, but I think I would rather watch less sports and see her more. Kat seems to be having a good time, but I can only hold things together for so long. Another one of my friends, "Ted," says that he imagines me being forced to fight off Lucy and Lily in an attempt to have any food to eat.

(Obviously the "friends" mentioned in this post have different names. The names have been changed to protect their identities and to allow them to deny they know me.)

It is still summer in Tucson and the weather reflects it. We got rained on a decent amount last night at the football game, and the temperature drops at night, but it is still quite warm during the day. And since I am now blogging about the weather, I have officially become 80 years old and need to sign off.

I promise some great future posts with tales of Kat's travels and travails (with pictures!). But for now, you, like me, will have to be patient.

I did watch a film - In the Loop - this weekend, which is quite enjoyable. If you get a chance to see it at your local independent film theatre (those are in every town right?) then I would suggest it. It is deliciously satirical and very, very, very funny.

Well that is all that I have for you. I haven't blogged in forever, so I felt I should, but the poor level of this post makes me question whether I should continue. Well, at least I didn't talk about basketball, right? Alright, later.