The backyard of the House by the Parkway is not exactly teeming with wildlife. The fauna in our “Wild Kingdom” is largely limited to squirrels and several kinds of birds and an occasional rabbit.

The night before last, I went out onto the deck and saw this longish, “waddling thing” motivating around the grass, stopping between waddles to eat stuff in the grass. It took a couple minutes to get a good enough look at it to recognize it. Holy crap! A skunk! A farookin’ SKUNK! Once it got a look at me (still on the deck, giving this stinker wide berth), it scurried off somewhere.

I was hopeful that the critter was just passing through and that he/she would wander to other yards for dinner and ultimately turn in for the night miles away from here.

No such luck.

Last night I was on the deck enjoying a libation or two, and I saw the black and white furball doing a mondo fast waddle from the neighbor’s yard, and it appeared to go under my backyard shed, which sits on concrete slab.

I did a bit of Internet prowling to learn that striped skunks (the only kind that are in New Jersey) often burrow under homes (and, therefore, under cement slabs, methinks) to make their little dens. Just friggin’ terrific, that.

I found suggestions about how to determine whether the critter has taken up residence in the ground, but all of them involve looking for the hole, waiting for the critter to come out at night and plugging up the hole. Problem is that all sides of the shed except for the front are surrounded by thick growth, and two of those three sides would difficult to access even if there were no growth. Therefore, I don’t think I’ll be looking for the hole. Besides, I read that one shouldn’t plug up the hole between May and August, because there might be little Skunkettes in the damned den, which will pose yet another potentially stinky problem. Skunkettes? Do I need this shit?

How about a trap? Ha! These things can spray their stink-juice some fifteen feet, and they do it when threatened, frightened or pissed off. I know that I once set a “Have a Heart” Trap for a big ol’ rat that was prowling about and I ended up catching a squirrel. That was one frightened and pissed off animal when I got near the trap. I figure the chances of getting spritzed by a pissed-off skunk are just about 100%. I read that one should cover the trap with a “tarp” so as to contain the skunk spritz.

Here’s the thing. I don’t own a farookin’ trap, nor do I own a farookin’ tarp, and I sure as shit don’t want to go buy that stuff only to have to deal with possibly being skunk-spritzed.

Of all the backyards in New Jersey, this critter had to walk into mine. Play it, Sam!

I wish Dash lived around here. He probably knows how to bag these varmints, and he probably even knows how to make a tasty skunk ragout. Or, maybe I could convince Dogette to use some chemical weapons on this backyard invader.

Looks like I’ll be calling Mr. Exterminator.

Here we have a case of a New Jersey high school kid in 2001 who was suspended for three days for wearing a $5.00 tee shirt to school. The offending shirt quoted Jeff Foxworthy’s “You might be a redneck if …” routine. The school’s stated reason, according to the Star Ledger’s report, was that wearing the tee shirt violated the school’s anti-harassment policy, “in the wake of racial incidents in which students referring to themselves as ‘Hicks’ and ‘Rednecks’ harassed black students”.

The kid sued, claiming that the suspension violated his First Amendment rights. After five years of litigation, the “kid”, now 23 and working for a living, dropped the suit, claiming that he has “moved on his life” and that he wore the tee shirt because he thought that it was “funny”.

Now, the Court has ruled that the municipality must pay almost $600,000 in legal fees to the “kid’s” lawyer.

So, what the heck happened here? All I know is what the newspaper article reported, but here’s my guess as to how this played out.

The school, probably genuinely troubled with racial tensions existing at the time among the students, told the kid to go home and change his shirt. [My guess].

The kid went home and told his moonbat parents that he was sent home for wearing a shirt, which, according to the school, violated school policy. [My guess]

Rather than simply telling the kid not to wear the shirt to school, the kid’s parents (probably children of the sixties) got all “Chicago Seven” and called a lawyer. [All my guess, except for the part about actually calling a lawyer].

The lawyer read just enough First Amendment case law to figure he had enough to “get to a jury”, filed a summons and complaint. [My guess regarding the lawyer’s state of mind, but a lawsuit obviously had been filed]

The town had to hire a lawyer to defend the action. [My guess, but a pretty solid one, methinks.]

Discovery begins.

Each side pounds the other with oppressive and ridiculous discovery demands. E.g. “Produce any and all documents related directly or indirectly to any and all school policies, including, without limitation, any and all documents drafted by, reviewed by, or referred to in such documents within the past ten years.” Depositions of countless school officials are demanded, as are depositions of the kid and his parents. Experts may have been retained by each side. [My guess, but an educated guess]

Motion practice begins.

Each side seeks the court to declare the other side’s discovery demands to be overbroad, vague and nothing more than a “fishing expedition”. [Another educated guess]

The case lies dormant for a long while. [My guess]

The case is called for trial.

Now the case is five years old, and the kid’s and his parents’ fist-pumping satisfaction over “suing the bastards” has long since passed, and the town just wants to stop the financial bleeding. Nobody wants to proceed with the expensive discovery in order meet the trial deadline, and the lawyers on both sides are worried about getting paid – especially the “kid’s” lawyer. [My guess]

The “kid” drops the suit, and now the only issue is whether the town pays the “kid’s” legal fees, the size of which his parents never envisioned when they embarked on this adventure. [Dropping the lawsuit is a fact. The rest is my guess]

The “kid’s” lawyer (looking down the barrel of large, likely uncollectable legal fee) files a motion for payment by the town of the “kid’s” legal fees. The town’s lawyers oppose the motion. Both sides drag out their now old files, and briefs are written. The town loses the motion, and the Court orders the payment of almost $600,000 to the “kid’s” lawyers. [My guess, except for the ruling on the fees]

Who Wins Here?

The “Kid”? Apparently not, because, now that he’s a grownup, he decided that making a living is more important than paying lawyers over the issue of wearing a tee shirt five years ago.

The Kid’s Lawyer? Well, the lawyer was awarded almost $600,000 in fees, so it looks like the lawyer was the clearly “winner”. [It is, however, possible that the lawyer sunk much more than $600,000 worth of time into the case. The story does not make that clear.] Notably, the town’s lawyer claimed a “victory” in that the “kid” dropped the suit.

Who Loses Here?

The “Kid”? No. He’s “moved on” with his life and someone else is paying his lawyer.

The “Kid’s” parents? Nope. They can brag to their cocktail party friends about suing the school to vindicate important First Amendment rights. [My guess]

The Taxpayers of the Town? Bingo! Big losers. They have to pay probably something like a half a million to defend the action brought by the “kid”, and they also have to pony up the $600,000 to pay the “kid’s” lawyer for this exercise in which not a single constitutional right was vindicated or clarified.

The Rest of Us? Yes, we all lose a little each time mindless litigiousness prevails over a bit of common sense.

And, the beat goes on.

I scored 97%. Damn, I wuz robbed. I woulda figured 100% for sure.

Tanks to Usual Suspect Jeff for da link.

Bonus! This year, Father’s Day is a two-day event. Yesterday, daughter TJ and husband came by for a visit, which included taking me (and Mrs. Parkway) out to dinner, which included a couple soup bowl-sized martinis (Bombay Sapphire, up with olives – a civilized drink). Thereafter, we assembled on the deck for some excellent champagne AMERICAN sparkling wine and lots of shoot-the-breeze.

This morning I was a little under the weather as a result of enjoying yesterday’s refreshments, but I managed to drag my ass out the door for the morning walk, albeit with a kinder cadence. I took advantage of the alone time to “visit” with my dad, and a pleasant visit it was, even though I miss him dearly.

In a little while, I’ll be heading to THE Deck, at the home of my Bodyguard and the Deckmistriss, to hang with the Usual Suspects. There will be several fathers in attendance, and we’ll see how well we fare with taking the position that we should be waited on all day, a prospect about which I am not terribly optimistic.

Happy Father’s Day to the dads out there and to the people who love them.

For many years I have had a subscription to the Paper Mill Playhouse. Our season tickets are always for Friday night performances. As such, it is frankly a bit of a chore to come home from work at the end of the week and immediately hustle off to the theater. However, in all the years I have been schlepping to the theater on Fridays, I can count the times on one hand that I wasn’t glad I went.

Last night was no exception. It was hot; I was tired, and I would have preferred a seat on the deck with a cold drink. But, off to the theater we schlepped. Last night was also no exception in that I am particularly glad I went.

The show was “Hello, Dolly!” and it was excellent. “Dolly” was played by Tovah Feldshuh, an extremely talented woman of many voices, all of them wonderful. The supporting characters were also terrific. There aren’t many things quite as impressive as an entire ensemble facing the audience and singing full out, and “Hello, Dolly!” provided lots of that and some first-class hoofing as well.

Should you live anywhere near the Paper Mill Playhouse (Millburn, NJ), I urge you to see “Hello, Dolly!”. You won’t be disappointed.

Jawja Blogger and friend, Dax Montana and his bride, the “lovely and extremely talented Priscilla” welcomed Baby Dax into the world yesterday. The little feller weighed in at 8 pounds 2 ounces. Everyone is doing fine.

Dax called a few hours ago, but I wasn’t in. Just damn! I’ll track him down tomorrow for some congratulations.

I worked late, and I’m generally cranky. What’s more, I had to choose between watching Matt Lauer interview Britney Spears, or staring at a blank “Write” screen without a clue in the world about what I might write.

To your detriment, I chose the blank screen.

I figured you deserve the backstory.

Suzette at Bob the Corgi, in her usual entertaining way, was discussing particularly nice sounding names. For some reason, the electrochemical basis for which I do not know, that reminded me of a college class a zillion years ago in which we learned that a bunch of well-known linguists got together and decided that the two English words that sounded the most beautiful when put together are “cellar door”. Say it a few times, trying not to think of what it means, and it does have a nice sound to it. I think so, anyway.

Still, I don’t know if “Cellar Door Jones” would work so well.

Behold one of the many medications the Usual Suspects used to cope with the Florida heat a few weeks ago.