I complained recently to State Representative Lyle Larson that legislators sloshed stain on their shirt cuffs when they passed “Loser Pays,” the financial disincentive to seeking redress in court. Other than carrying chamber pots for the business lobby, why would they soil their hands with such ordure? There is no lawsuit crisis in Texas, unless one looks to divorce, child neglect and delinquent tax filings.

Osama bin Laden is dead. But what does that have to do with Superman, Bart Starr and San Antonio’s Ricardo Sanchez?  

The good news occasions a thank you to General Sanchez. He served with admirable distinction and retired in controversy. His entry into the Klieg’s harsh light as a potential candidate will intensify the latter, but surely the death of an archenemy at the hands of Sanchez’ beloved military satisfies a legitimate pride in service. Sanchez is among the many who have earned the civilians’ salute.

But will he merit a vote for the Senate?

The funeral was small, maybe 20 people. It was raining. Tina looked down at the shiny black box with cheap brass handles and remembered a Saturday afternoon, two weeks earlier. She and John were sitting in their backyard with a couple of neighbors, the ice chest full of Bud light and rosé, the grill burning off the quart of lighter fluid that he used to dowse the briquettes. Costco $6 rib-eyes were sizzling just right. The sun was perfect. Their buzz was fine.

The first scoop of dirt hitting the top of the casket brought Tina out of her reverie and she realized she was standing all alone, dripping wet.

“The current situation is one where we have a variety of buildings on the site, in what appears to be a random order, because there’s no particular logic or sense to their organization … We have an enormous convention center, and we have what is left over after all those buildings have been put in their places or left where they were, that’s been called the open space. It lacks clarity.”

This is probably the most concise description of HemisFair Park I’ve ever heard. It came from David Alpaugh of Johnson Fain, the firm leading the development of a new master plan for the massive, 40-year-old downtown park and cultural center.

John was processed at the old jail and turned over for extradition. The trip started with a full-body cavity search conducted by Anthony, the driver for FEA. Anthony wasn’t a bad guy, just young and cocky, and slightly intoxicated with the power of complete control. His partner Randy was less than a month into the job. He had never worked with prisoners before, and tried to hide his fear with attitude and arrogance. As Anthony snapped on the gloves, John said, “Ah, man, you got to be kidding me, right?”

“Ain’t no fun me, either,” Anthony said.

“Stop judging by mere appearances, and make a right judgment.” 

That’s “red letter” law from the highest authority: John Jay High School’s Wallace Jefferson, Chief Justice of the Texas Supreme Court. He preaches against the sin of partisan judicial elections, often decided by the mere appearance of an R or a D by a candidate’s name.