Robert Ambrogi has compiled a list of posts following up on Denise’s separation from Reed Smith. The compilation follows his searching essay about the matter, which itself follows in bloggy reverse chron order Carolyn Elefant’s post which ends:

What few in our profession realize is that our most talented lawyers’ stars burn too bright for Biglaw. For Reed Smith, however, its options diminish. Because if you’re a talented woman planning on having kids, why in the world would you EVER choose to work there?

Don’t get me wrong… some of my best friends are felonious merchants of death, but today as I shopped for some XL/tall undershirts in Marshall Fields I looked around and got the insight that the place must use the Federal Witness Protection Program as a staffing agency. Where else did they dig up the deeply tanned, deep cleavaged, zaftig woman in the brightly colored skimpy summer outfit, a little wisp of lace modestly applied across the bosom, dangling red ball earrings about the size of ripe crap apples accenting the crimson lipstick so masterfully applied that none had found purchase on a front tooth? How else to explain the guy in black denims with the long sleeved black shirt and the graying full head of hair, lined and craggy face, just standing there folding and refolding summer-stocked short sleeve polo shirts? I was waiting for him to say “Hello. I’m Johnny Cash.” And there were other dodgy characters ready to serve. There was the white collar criminal… everybody’s favorite alky accountant dressed in a suit that hung awkwardly on his skinny frame, white face, bald patch, glasses I think, but maybe not… fairly nondescript, except you could tell the mob was looking for him by the way he looked this way and that, darting glances all over the men’s furnishings section like he was afraid someone would pop out of the necktie display squeezing grease from an Uzi. Reminded me of Olmert, to tell the truth. These people all belong in Las Vegas, except that would be sort of an in-your-face witness protection strategy.

I ended up buying the Jockey’s since they didn’t have any Hanes. I think they’re all made in the same Chinese owned factory in Honduras anyway but the Hanes are cheaper.

Bruce points out that the Middle East explosion was scripted ten years ago by the Project for a New Apocalyptic Century. Don’t get me wrong… some of my best friends work for the Mossad, I think; but, wouldn’t it be good if we could all get on the same page and if we decide to run plays out of the PNAC playbook, at least not have Karl Rove calling the signals? A couple of yupsters were pawing the rack of Ralph Lauren undershirts nearby. The Polos are made in that same Chinese factory in Honduras, but cost a little more than the Jockeys and a lot more than the Hanes. I overheard this conversation:

“What do you hear from the G8 Summit?”

“Not much, you?”

“Not much. Really, I’ve been too busy wondering if the Israelis are going to nuke Damascus.”

“Not to worry, that’ll be the October surprise. Help us keep our minds off the elections.”

I don’t believe one word of it. If you listened to the conspiracy theorists you’d think that the shadow government had their Mossad moles in Hezbollah kick off the fighting just as Rove was staging the First Fuhrer Pork Roast auf Deutschland. You’d think these events were coordinated on the world stage and that ineffective socialist leaders in Syria better watch out ‘cuz big oil is coming to get ‘em.

“Never stop trying to lower your hit rate.” — Mike Johnston

“reality leaves a lot to the imagination…” — John Lennon

In a post titled “Business Model,” Shelley said (among lots of other good things),

My business model, since that’s so important to have, is that whatever I do in the future, I want to adopt Denise’s ‘how much do I love that’ filter for my own professional efforts; whenever and however possible.

Unfortunately, this doesn’t always work, but one can decide to live more simply and even if you’re doing work you don’t love, you can do work that doesn’t require that you focus your entire being on the job.

In the comments, Doug pointed to a brilliant post by Mike Johnston that added more brightly colored surface area to the beautiful bubbles they were blowing. Mike said,

What these straight-A kids wanted was for me to set the terms of their success for them. They wanted me to set up the hoop so they could jump through it for me. They wanted to be told how they could be certain of success. It was what they encountered everywhere else. But what I wanted was for them to set up their own hoop, or, better yet, look askance at the hoop and go, “Nah, not today,” and wander off somewhere and see what they could find. The fact is, you need to fail a lot if you want to succeed as an artist.