Me & the Judge
Thursday night of this week, I went to a book signing event for a friend of mine and enjoyed every second of it. I was somewhat out of my element because my friend is a retired but “in- active” federal judge, which I think means that he can still practice law and if for some reason we run short of judges, he can legally sit on the bench. Because as a federal judge, he was a presidential appointee, he can still request federal protection at any time which I am certain that he does not need it. I have never really asked him his age but I am guessing he is on the north side of 80 and I am quite certain he could effortlessly kick my ass at any time should the mood strike him so federal protection is laughable. He is a very grounded man and I am proud to call him my friend. His favorite little joke is “What do you call a bad lawyer?” the answer is… “Judge”. Anyway, the folks that were invited to this book signing were mostly older than me and much better financed than me so there is a good chance I won’t bump into any of them in the Golden Corral buffet line anytime soon. That is a huge relief and I actually thought about what I would say if I did bump into them that’s not important so stay with me here…
Since I was not told that there was a dress code and there really wasn’t one, so I think it was more implied, I came in my “company gear” and they were all in their “federal judge book signing gear”. I had on my beautiful double woven wrangler shirt with front snap buttons, double breast pockets and non-button-down collar that I proudly purchased at the world’s largest retailer for 15 bucks on the clearance rack last spring along with a pair of jeans I bought at the same place. The jeans were not on clearance and I reluctantly paid the full 19$ retail price. I love saving money so I can live better if that helps you pin down the true location of my purchases. However, unbeknownst to the other attendees, the one area of apparel I refuse to skimp is my skivvies. Luckily, I was sporting a pretty expensive pair of Tommy John’s, (the best underwear in the underwear business). I will try to keep things G rated with this blog but damn! These are some seriously comfortable underwear, I hardly even know they are there. For some reason I feel safer, more confident and secure when I am sporting these expensive bad boys. I am not sure why I feel that way but it doesn’t matter, we all need a measure of confidence to help us through the day and I have found mine. It is entirely up to you to you find your own. My underwear is not the point here so I need to keep going but I could write a whole blog about the importance of proper underwear and yes mom in heaven… they were clean. My underwear are always clean.
So, during some of my conversations at my table that night I felt like I needed to let people know that I was wearing some really expensive underwear, but I didn’t. I was a little overmatched on most of the subject matter and amidst all the talk of past court cases, potential increases or decreases in financial portfolios and what it is like to be president of a University, I never could find the proper place to insert that little gem of information. “Wow! You increased enrollment and the graduation rate of your students by 20% during your tenure as president of the university… Well I hate to brag but, I sold a whole case of Mad Dog 20/20 today and I am wearing some very expensive underwear to boot!” Don’t get me wrong, these were some genuinely nice people and I am better for having met them tonight but that’s not the point so stay with me here…
I’ve never been good at chit chat and no matter what snappy outfit I wear, I’m a country boy, born and bred and I wouldn’t change that for all tea in Boston. I do my best to fit in wherever I go and I try to be polite. Please and thank you are always in my repertoire of sophisticated behavior and based off my upbringing, yes sir, no sir, yes mam and no mam slide out of my mouth like two newlyweds getting to know each other in a bed covered in silk sheets. Geez… use your imagination, don’t make me do all the work. Chit chat is not my strong suit, so I just try and listen and nod when I think I am supposed to and then shrug my shoulders and laugh when I think it’s appropriate. This system has worked for 58 years so I guess I will keep using it. It is almost fool proof until someone asks a dreaded question directly aimed at me, the head nodding, shoulder shrugging, goober in the wrangler shirt. “So, Randolph, what do you do and how do you know the judge?” Now, the judge has me in age by at least 20 years so I can’t say we went to law school together, I can’t say we fought in the Big world War together, and it is at this very moment of extreme pressure that it seems to be the time I need to let them know that I have on some very expensive underwear, but I force it back down and resort to the country boy in me. “Well mam, I work in a liquor store and the judge buys his wine from me every Tuesday so he can take advantage of our 10% Tuesday special.” Oh it gets worse, no matter how hard I try to mentally stop it from happening, Pressure and chit chat are like food poising to me, you never know when the hurling is going to stop or what you are going to hurl up next but I always sum up everything with “that’s.. that’s…that’s.. about it.” Hello Forest Gump! Before I am even done with my chit chat response, most folks at my table are already looking for the waiter to order another drink or examining the table napkin for stains. Anyway, my inability to chit chat appropriately is not the point here so stick with me …
I loved sitting at this table with these people and listening to them chit chat. I loved hearing the stories they had about the judge and the man that he was and still is. We all agreed that he is a straight shooter who doesn’t care what you think about him or his politics. He doesn’t care where you are from or your status in life. He doesn’t care if you are a lawyer, senator or kazillionaire, and most of all, he doesn’t care whether you’re wearing a ten-thousand-dollar suit or a 15-dollar double woven wrangler shirt with front snap buttons, double breast pockets and non-button-down collar with expensive underwear. What he cares about is his relationships. He cuts through the bull like no one I have ever met and honestly, I wish I had some of the grit that refuses to wash off of him despite his age, but his charismatic John Wayne style is not the point of this blog so here goes…
I can’t remember anyone’s name at my table or at other tables at the book signing, and I am guessing they won’t remember mine, despite the chit chat, we were all focused on the judge. I think that is why I like him so much, he knew everyone’s name. What I also like about him is that he never chit chats, he talks to you, and you talk to him. He is gracious and humble but confident and brash at the same time. I admire this man very much and oh by the way, this Saturday he stopped by the store, not to buy anything but to tell me how much it meant to him that I came to his books signing… Say what? Come again? President George Herbert Walker Bush appointed him to serve on the bench for the western district court of Arkansas and because his wife likes her barefoot chardonnay and because he likes the service he gets at my store, I got to know him as a good customer and now I get to call him my friend. Sometimes, I am a little too judgmental and I should just be more like the judge.