I am the victim of a cyber-attack. It began almost three years ago when I was forced to make a motion to be relieved as counsel for a client because he owed my firm a significant fee (five figures). Not only did the judge grant my motion but he awarded me every penny of the outstanding fee and stated that the record indicated that my entire representation of the client had been superb.

I am computer impaired. Some time ago a glass of water spilled on my Apple laptop. It won't allow me to type upper case and ever time you hit a key you get two letters. Our very old Toshiba laptop just gave up two weeks ago. Something like computer heart failure. And three days ago my office computer made a loud pop, then sizzled and smelled like smoke as the screen went dark. I was afraid after that to even touch it. At least we have an iPad. When technology fails, you suddenly feel disconnected.

I woke up to the sounds of suburbia...a snow thrower tooling up to move the snow. Lovely.   Then a knock at the door. Not just a knock but that four tap knock of familiarity. I thought a neighbor needed help so I quickly threw on some pants, a Tshirt and hurried downstairs only to find no one at the door. I opened it and heard an unfamiliar "Hello?"   It was an enterprising young man asking if I wanted him, his snow thrower and three guys to take care of my driveway and yard. I was both impressed and annoyed that he is knocking at my door at 7AM.

According to Wikipedia, sleep is a naturally recurring state characterizedby altered consciousness, relatively inhibited sensory activity and inhibition of nearly all voluntary muscles. Wikipedia goes on to say that during sleep, most systems are in an altered anabolic state accentuating the growth and rejuvenation of the immune, nervous, skeletal and muscular systems. So that's why I get so tired at around 9:30 at night and feel better in the morning. No wonder it is prudent to "sleep on it" when one must make an important decision.

I expected that it would be an easy flight. I smiled as the family with young children slid into the seats behind us. Two children who were about three or four years old. The father sat in the middle of the three-seat row. The mother, and another child, sat in the same row on the other side of the aisle.  

I remember years ago when the Budweiser ad campaign changed their commercials from "Real American Heroes," to "Real Men Of Genius," in the days following the attack on the WTC.  It was a tasteful recognition that the way we thought about the term "Heroes" had changed forever.    

When I was growing up we had a dog, a little chocolate brown poodle named “Coco”. The dog was really my sister’s. Truth is, I didn’t really like him. He just wasn’t all that nice. He growled a lot and wouldn’t hesitate to take a bite every so often.