Saturday Night on the Town

      My wife got back from her four day stint out of town on Friday evening. The kids and I were already in bed, fast asleep. She flipped on the light in the bedroom, looked me straight in the eye and said "where is my cat," loudly enough to wake all of the kids, even the ones in the other room. I suppose it shouldn’t surprise me that she would be paranoid about me killing her cat. I have never been a big fan. Having grown up in Detroit, I am a big Detroit Red Wings fan. My oldest son Echo was born in Boulder, Co. and, being the little contrarion that he is, decided to name the cat Avalanche. Lets just say, Avalanche and I have never bonded very well. My wife dotes over Avalanche like it’s her fourth baby. I am apt to leaver her out all night.

      Needless to say, Saturday morning came too early. I went to work all day. My wife tried to reclaim her house. On Saturday night, I had an invitation to go out with some friends. Ten minutes from leaving, our youngest boy, who is three and a half, started throwing up. Since I had been home alone for four days with two brothers throwing up, I didn’t hesitate to run out the door to my party.

      One of the amazing things about living in a growing small sized tourist town is that it is small. It took me a while to warm up to the concept of small town, but it never ceases to amaze me that there are far more benefits than detriments. I ended up out at the local bar at midnight, having abandoned my friends who were stuck at home with one of their one set of kids. It turned out that one of the members of the Grateful Dead had started a band and was actually playing in town. The bar was packed. I rocked till two a.m. but the best part was that I saw one of my college room mates whom I had not seen in quite some time who just happened to be up north and just happened to be at that bar. Only in a small town could that happen. Well, at least, only in a small town could that happen as many times as it has happened to Paul and I in Traverse City. Whenever he is in town and not on the town, I end up crossing paths. I have to say that I love small town living and I certainly love small town practice. We have two trial judges and our primary trial court level is over three counties. Compare that with someplace like Detroit where there are something like thirty such judges in a single county. Hooray for small towns.