If you’re looking for a post about legal tech and innovation like those which usually appear here, you will be sorely disappointed. This post has nothing to do with legal tech, tech in general, or innovation. No gentle reader, this post is about something else entirely. It’s about a celebration and hope for the future.


If you’re wondering why I’m straying from the usual fare, it’s because I can. As then-candidate Ronald Reagan once said when a debate moderator tried to silence him, “I paid for this mike.” Got to hand it to Ronnie, regardless of what you thought of his politics (I don’t agree with them), he did have a way with words. And yes, I know I’m dating myself. I really don’t care. (Here’s the video of that moment btw).


So this past weekend was a seminal one for me. As an FVI (that’s short for a fully vaccinated individual, my daughter tells me), I went to the gym and rode the exercise bike for an hour. The next day I went back and did weights. First time for both in over a year.


Did it hurt? Yes. Am I sore? Hell yes. Am I going back? Every damned day I can. And I will thank the Lord for every ache and pain.



No Retreat Baby No Surrender



Someone once said that for those of us of a certain, how best to say it, age, Bruce Springsteen’s music is kind of a soundtrack for our lives. As I was huffing and puffing this weekend, his song No Surrender played itself over and over again in my head.  And to paraphrase a line that rang true with me: I made a promise I swore I’d always remember. No retreat, baby, no surrender. (For a cool group performance of the song check out the No Surrender Festival video)



I thought about that line often in the endless dark winter of the pandemic. You see, throughout the pandemic, I tried to keep the faith. Promised myself I would have a life again when and if it ended.



Don’t retreat from hope, don’t surrender to despair.



But it was sometimes so hard to believe that was a promise that could be kept. But I kept telling myself, don’t retreat from hope, don’t surrender to despair.


And as I rode that bike, I actually believed for the first time in a long time that life could begin again.  That so many things that I have so missed might actually come back. Maybe not just like before (yes, I wore a mask while huffing and puffing) but still back in a way that brings joy. I’m just now starting to think that’s possible. I can see it. I feel it in my bones.



Ready To Be Young Again



Easter is a time of rebirth, renewal. Easter Sunday here was a beautiful spring day. The forsythia is brilliant this year. Trees are in full bloom. And I’m ready. In the words of that Springsteen song, I’m ready to be young again. To get out of the house, to work out. To travel. To see my grandkids. To hear life’s music. I’m going to a Cincinnati Reds game. I’m going to the Kentucky jewel of a racetrack, Keeneland, bet money, and laugh when my horse loses (some things never change, lol). I’m going to eat out. I’m going to let the sun shine on my face again. I’m going to feel fully human. It’s time to get busy living. (Thank you, Andy Dufresne).



It’s time to get busy living.



And most of all, throughout it all, I’m going to be thankful. If the pandemic has taught me anything, it’s to be grateful for all things great and small. Because we never know when a personal or public pandemic will happen.


It’s been a long dark winter. But it’s spring. Time to dance.




Springsteen album cover photo by Jose Antonio Gallego Vázquez on Unsplash, 

The rest of the photos are all mine 😊