On depression

No, I'm fine for the moment. But the views recently expressed by eminent mental health expert Tom Cruise has prompted discussion with loved ones who sort of agree with him about mental health. Generally, the logic goes like this: Depression is all in your head. Those claiming to suffer from depression are either deluding themselves or making a play for attention.

Now, to be fair, Dr. Cruise's position is more that depression may be real, but should be treated "naturally" rather than chemically or through mental therapy. Also to be fair, it is nearly impossible to establish objectively what is going on in anyone's head.

I have suffered from occasional depression, sporadically, for years. It manifests as a lack of motivation and a tendency to snap at people, but it does not really keep me from functioning, so it is not classified as a treatable disorder in my case. It is just that everything seems to irritate me, nothing seems fun, and I do not even enjoy the taste of my favorite foods. Traditionally, I just go through the motions for a few days until it passes.

Dr. Cruise, known for such scholarly works as "Risky Business," could contend that I was just cranky and sandbagging. And it would be difficult to prove otherwise, objectively, without a thorough internal examination of my brain and its chemistry. Most everything we know about the brain, we know by inference, because we cannot physically test one in a live subject without serious limitations. ("A little to the left--and try not to paralyze this one, Herr Docktor.")

Nevertheless, inference is a powerful tool, and, based on my memory of various psychology classes I took 15 years ago, we do know these things: The brain is a complex chemical system unmatched in nature or laboratory. All actions and reactions are the result of chemical signals, and some inactions are the result of an absence of chemicals. Add in some personal experience (about which I am competent to testify), and it makes for a convincing case.

But getting back to the argument, let's put aside "delusion," on the theory that substituting the name of one mental illness for another is not productive. That leaves attention-seeking as an explanation for claims of depression--which is illogical in most cases. For example, Munchausen's Syndrome does cause real physical ailments, but that does not mean that most (or even a large percentage of) individuals visiting physicians are just seeking attention.

So, despite Mr. Cruise's credentials, I cannot dismiss psychiatry in general or depression in particular as fakery.

Read our lips: No establishment of religion

The Supreme Court ruled today that (1) the 10 Commandments can be posted on a historical monument in on the grounds of the Texas state Capitol, but (2) the 10 Commandments cannot be posted in a Kentucky courthouse to honor its citizens' Judeo-Christian roots. The Court was right on both counts.

We do not want the government in the business of religion. Imagine a state where snake-handling was the official religion. If I find myself in court there, I want zero pressure to conform. But by the same token, there is a line that should not be crossed in outlawing religious references, too. (Note that the "under God" in the pledge of allegiance does not violate the U.S. Constitution, but did cause a problem with California state law.)

In other Court news, Grokster and Streamcast cannot feign innocence when their customers violate copyright laws by sharing files.

Watch for this: The next cool case will be when someone uses Grokster to share a webcast of the Texas 10 Commandments monument onto a computer kiosk in a Kentucky courthouse. Who's up for it?

Supreme Court: City's turf war is legit

Governments have always been able to take property from individual landowners as long as they paid just compensation. There's nothing startling about that. But historically, land could only be taken for a public use.

This case is a new wrinkle, because New London, Connecticut, took a landowner's residence to put in place an economic development plan. This was not a blighted area, just a residential area that was ripe for development.

The Supreme Court, by a 5-4 vote, decided that the process did not smell bad enough to make it unconstutional. I can see both sides, but the voices in my head are also split 5-4 in favor of the decision. I vote with the majority only because it took rigorous steps to limit the application of its holding.

Too much time on his hands

For those folks who feel like the office is a prison, this guy has another view. He is an Australian insurance executive whose sentence includes a provision that he cannot conduct business while in prison. Recently, he was nailed conducting business while pretending to help his child with homework during visitation.

Moral of the story: If you are going to pretend to work on homework, stick to comic books.

My life's work

This morning, the A-Train rolled into our bed at 6 a.m. wishing me a happy Father's Day. He brought with him a new-to-us Mercer Mayer book, "Just Me and My Dad." The A-Train was followed closely by his mom and the G-Man, who was hungry (as always) but not crying, which shows great restraint on his three-month-old part.

After reading the new book, we adjourned to the kitchen to make a true holiday weekend breakfast--eggs, bacon, juice, and muffins. The A-Train demonstrated his best manners, and he thanked me four or five times for making such a tasty breakfast. I basked in the warm glow of my family.

On a perfect day such as this one, I just want to thank all of the folks who made this possible. My beloved spouse. My brilliant sons. Our creator. My mom and dad, bless their little hearts. What the heck--all of my ancestors. Thanks to each and every one of you. I may not deserve this kind of bliss, but I will certainly relish it.

I do not think I needed a reminder, but I got it anyway. This morning, as much fun as it was, was spent on my life's most important task. Nothing is more important than spending quality time with my family.

Especially on a weekend. Most especially on Father's Day.

Occupational hazard

Before the film last night, we saw a trailer for "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory." As we watched , I could not get out of my head that Willie Wonka was headed for some serious wage and hour claims from the Oompa-Loompas.

That must be what happens when you spend most of your professional life trying to view the world through liability-colored glasses.

The Dark Knight

With Grandma Sharon in town, the beloved spouse and I went to see "Batman Begins" last night. Outstanding. I love comic book movies that do not feel like cartoons (see, e.g., the earlier Batman films).

It was much better than "Cats," and I am going to see it again and again.

Poll Question: Could Christian Bale play me in the movie about my life? If not, who would be a better choice?

My family would know it was the lottery

So the guy who won the $220 million Powerball lottery (translating to a lump-sum payment of about $80 million after taxes) over Memorial Day weekend did not tell his family until last week:

"Duke said he told his father and sister about the jackpot but the rest of his family was unaware until Sunday, when he asked them to meet him in Sun Valley. He said they had assumed he was going to reveal a terminal illness, multilevel marketing scheme or a wedding engagement."

If I summoned my family to Sun Valley, they (optimists all) would expect the lottery news and suspect the terminal illness, but I fervently hope that multilevel marketing would not enter their thinking.

Nice to know that our clients are thinking of us

You may have seen this story about a divorcing woman hoping to sell a casket. Her soon-to-be-ex-husband had purchased it a year earlier it in a misguided fit of estate planning. Waaaaay at the bottom of the story, the wife says she wants $890 for it:

"I'm really pressed for money, and I'm hoping I can use some of it for attorney fees," she said.

Memo to self: If I am ever tempted to venture into domestic relations, get a retainer.

When the cows come home

The A-Train reminds me fairly frequently that I am an old guy. The other night, for example, he was badgering me for a bite of my lasagne. I shared, and he burned his mouth. Much wailing and gnashing of teeth followed.

As soon as the wailing stopped, he wanted another bite. I said no, not until it cooled down. He asked please, please? I said no. "But what about ..."

No, I said. You can ask 'til the cows come home, but you are not getting another bite until it cools down.

His eyes perked up. "The cows are coming?"

No, its just an exp--

"When are the cows coming? Are they coming here to our house?"

It's just an expression, Buddy. It means that--

"I think they are coming. When will they get here?"

He was very disappointed to discover that we were not actually expecting bovine visitors. Heck, by the end of the conversation, so was I.

Steroid scandal update

The last of my steroids are now gone, and I have no 'roid rage to report. The beloved spouse reports that, during the weekend, I was "a pain in the ass, but no more than usual."

I did have to speak sternly to a McDonald's drive-through worker who inadvertently put ketchup on the A-Train's plain cheeseburger, but I did not so much as flex at her.

In other poison oak news, it may turn out that I should be more afraid of "leaves of five," because "leaves of three" may describe poison ivy. Ignorance was not bliss, and in fact, turned out to be quite itchy.

Related news stories?

First of all, consider the Roach Coach. This bad boy is the brainchild of a California roboticist building a virtual reality suit for a cockroach. The roach walks on a trackball, and the trackball transmits to a robot that moves in the same direction the roach does. When the robot nears an obtstacle, the roach's vr suit shines a light from the direction of the obstacle, causing the roach to scurry another direction.

It is now in the prototype phase--meaning the inventor is still working the bugs out. As it were.

Next, consider the iron-lunged barristers in this bank-fraud case. The bank's attorney ended his record 119-day opening statement on May 24--eclipsing the previous record of 73 days, which had been set by his opponent in the same case.

All we need now is a link between cockroaches and bank fraud, and we can close the loop.

Day 3 on the Juice

Despite the steroids, I slept fine last night. And the beloved spouse tells me that I am "no more irritable than usual," which I choose to take as a good thing. However, I do have this irrational urge to order pizza and abuse the delivery person. Hmmmmm ....

Juice Update

It occurs to me that, if I were a litigator, steroid abuse might be a marketing tool. "Come and see me. ...

• "I could fly off the handle at any time."
• "You know insurance companies have geeked-out bonemashers working hard on their side."
• "Providing chemically enhanced representation since the turn of the century."
• "We will intimidate your opponents."

Being a business lawyer, however, it seems marginally less marketable.

Going on the Juice

It is 3:17 a.m., and I am ready to work out like a madman.

This all started a couple of weeeks ago, when I was attacked by vicious poison oak in the wilds of my back yard. Judging by the pattern of the rash that developed, the poison oak apparently attempted to strangle me. I do not remember seeing any unusual or threatening plant life at the time, but the result is unmistakable. My beloved wife has since instructed me in the ancient axiom: "Leaves of three, let it be." (Or as the A-Train, my three-year-old son, has adapted it: "If it has three yeaves, yeave it ahyone." I see no reason to correct him.)

At any rate, I spent the next week and a half applying over-the-counter drugs and studiously not scratching. Then the rest of my body broke out, and my resolve broke with it. The beloved wife finally suggested in the pre-dawn hours a couple of days ago that, with the welts and the scratching I was beginning to look and sound like a cross between a meth addict and the Elephant Man, so I called the doctor.

My introduction to steroids came in the mid-1980s, when South Carolina football player Tommy Chaiken wrote about them in Sports Illustrated. "The thing they don't tell you," he wrote then, "is that they work." You can work out longer and better, he said, and you feel a godlike power that dovetails nicely with the increased aggression. Still, in my personal risk/benefit analysis, the threat of shrunken testicles alone have always enough to outweigh any benefit.

But now, in the wake of Canseco-gate and Congressional hearings on elimination of steroid cheats, I was given a medically sanctioned chance to give steroids a brief try. As a bonus, I would not have to saw off all of my limbs, which was looking more and more viable as plan to stop the freaking itching.

So I started last night. Five day course; decreasing dosage. And at 2:30 a.m., I was awake, ready to crawl right out of my skin and begin hefting things. I will keep you apprised of developments.

When a retainer is an EXCELLENT idea

Comics are required reading in my house, if for no other reason than to see the lawyer jokes before a beloved client mails it to me. This one caught my fancy, because most folks do not give much thought to the fact that lawyers who are doing crazy things are doing them at the behest of someone who is not a lawyer.

Washington governor can change her lucky underwear at long last

After two weeks of trial, a state court judge has ruled that Washington's governor of five months will keep her 129-vote victory, despite irregularities in last fall's voting and vote-counting.

"For the love of god, people, just get on with your lives," Chelan County Superior Court Judge John Bridges did not say (but he did think it pretty loudly). "There were 2.6 million votes cast, and pretty much half of the state hates each of you.

"We all have better things to do with our time than argue about who captured more of the 'illegal felon' demographic. Case dismissed."

Congress can bogart doobie law

Of course, that is not precisely what the Supreme court said in its medical marijuana ruling. Technically, the court just said that Congress had not exceeded its constitutional powers in making possession of marijuana a federal offense. But we should feel free to infer.

Just for the record, the word "doobie" does not appear in the court's opinion.