Beazers in Bismarck

So, I learned a few new terms this week...

Gritter: "Ew, you can't date her, she's a gritter." My friend Michelle asked me if I had ever heard this before, which I hadn't. Apparently it is a term where she is from that is somewhat equivalent to white trash. It's in urban dictionary, so I guess it's a real word, but nothing I'd heard before. As Michelle is several years younger than me, I tried to pass it off that I was just to old for such nonsense. But she informed me that her sister who is my age (or maybe a little older) knew what it was, so that excuse wasn't flying.

Incidentally, the next day I overheard someone use the term white trash in a nearby conversation at work. Naturally, this reminded me of my conversation about gritters, so I asked my co-workers if they had heard the term. They said no, but then asked if I knew what a Beazer was.

Beazer: This is apparently someone who thinks they are all that and a bag of chips, but really, they are just the smooshed PB&J that's a day old so the bread is soggy cause the J has been absorbed. Ok, I made up that colorful definition myself based on the understanding I have of beazers. Basically they said it is someone who is too big for their britches, but also kind of white trash. I was picturing a Peg Bundy type person when they described it. So, apparently that is the out down in this neck of the plains. It derives from the fact that there are the Class A high schools and the Class B high schools. In which case, I guess that makes me a Beazer. (Ironically, this is the name of the company who built my brother's house.)

P.S. I didn't win anything at Bingo last night. BOOOOOOO!

BINGO in Bismarck

Tuesday night... Bingo night! Normally there is a group of at least 4 people who go to bingo, but for some reason tonight, everyone bailed, some at the last minute and some earlier in the afternoon. So, it was just Maggie and I. For the record, Maggie is only 29, and while I know you all only think old ladies play bingo, not so out here. Anyway, we play three rounds. I was in charge of getting the bingo cards tonight, and between the second and third round, Maggie got up to use the restroom. I just assumed that she wanted two cards like usual, so I went up and bought $5 worth. When I got back to the table I threw them all down, she took her two, and I took the rest. Then she looked for some money, I had to make change, etc. I almost told her not to worry about it, it's only two bucks, she could get me next time. Yep... so close... Maggie hit the jackpot on one of the cards that could have been mine and was actually in my possession. Jackpot = $1,942! Yayboo!

Bureaucracy in Bismarck

One of the things that I have really appreciated about living out here in the middle of nowhere is that shit gets done. By that, I mean that people are mostly reasonable, even in the government, and things run fairly efficiently. As an example, I had a phone interview for the job two days after I mailed my resume, and a week later I had been hired on the afternoon of my in-person interview. As another example... I've been spending time reading the Constitution this past week (you know, since I am a lawyer and am supposed to follow it, thought it best to know what it actually says. The legislature here is Constitutionally mandated to meet only every two years, and for a maximum of 80 days. That means that they come to town, discuss the issues, take some votes, and get the hell back out of town and back to their real jobs as farmers, ranchers, etc. This also means that while you have to wait until the next legislative session for changes to be considered, once they are, they are implemented almost immediately. To me, this is the way government is supposed to work.

And sure, sometimes there are stupid "protocol" things that must be followed because it is still the government. As an example, my computer automatically shuts down after 7 minutes of non-use and I need to enter my password to get back in. This is to keep "unauthorized" people from sneaking into my office to look at "inappropriate" websites or to keep someone from coming in and "writing a fake email to me boss." A memo went around about the dangers of such activities and how we would be held responsible. In addition, when you leave your office, you are supposed to "lock" the computer. Speaking of passwords, I am also required to change mine every three months, and I can't repeat the same password for SIX YEARS!!! Killing me. Although since numbers are required to be in the passwords, my password scheme is pretty much "Rabbit300", "Rabbit301", "Rabbit302", etc. For some reason, this is enough variation to be acceptable. Ridiculous... but I digress.

Anyway, so state government, smooth and efficient here for the most part. Unfortunately, there is still a federal government around to muck things up. (For my Obama-commie friends, that is not a statement of intended revolution or anything, you don't need to report me to the White House. Just an observation that the federal government is not the pillar of efficiency.)

So, there is this guy here in the state who stole a bunch of water and sold it to the oil companies. (Not breaching any confidences here, it was in the newspaper.) By stole, I mean that he has a permit for a certain amount, but he sold almost double that amount. Anyhow, we (my agency) sent him a certified letter regarding this issue. We also sent a second letter to the State's Attorney because water stealing is a misdemeanor. And a third letter was sent to the newspaper at their request because we are all about real transparency out here and have crazy Open Records rules. Pretty much the press can see anything and everything we do with the exception of Attorney-Client privileged documents. Anyhow, we intentionally spaced the mailing of the letters so that the water stealer would get his, then the State's Attorney, then the press. The intent was that water stealer shouldn't have to read about himself in the paper without warning.

Enter the federal government... i.e. the post office.

Water stealer lives in a tiny town of like 10 people. Ok, I don't really know the population, but small enough that they don't have their own post office. Anyway, because they don't have their own post office, mail for tiny town goes to the nearby post office... where it is apparently then sent to MINNESOTA, whereupon Minnesota "forwards" it back to the original post office for delivery to tiny town. WTF! Meanwhile, we back here in the "big city" are wondering why we haven't gotten the certified mail receipt when it's been over a week. Meanwhile, lawyer Jen is wondering when the events are going to show up in the newspaper. Meanwhile, water stealer is blissfully ignorant until he either reads the paper or the horseback rider/bike rider/carriage driver finally decides the weather is nice enough for mail delivery.

I can't believe I moved someplace where the mailbox rule might actually play a non-negligible role in my legal life. And on that note, we'll end with a poem...

Common Law Mailbox Rule

Anyone who was half-conscious in law school
Knows the basic Mailbox Rule
That acceptance is valid as soon as it’s sent
And rejections are valid upon the receiving event
But in an attempt to learn the pesky exceptions
I offer the following list of perceptions

If the offeror specifies a way to accept
Compliance with such method must be kept

And if the contract is an option type
Only receipt of acceptance makes it ripe

But the rule gets more confusing and complex
When the parties intend to perplex
By sending both an acceptance and rejection
And requiring further legal inspection

If first a rejection is sent through the mail
But then an acceptance is hot on the tail
Whichever letter was on the faster snail
Will be the answer that will prevail