Author Archives: lee

Funny, I used to earn some money shooting sticks, though mostly beer. Now, this is a game my grandparents had in their bar. Few people have heard of or played bumper pool, but my grandfather was a master at it. It is a strategy game in a sense and requires being able to bank shots and block your opponent.

When I state my grandfather was a master, it’s because my grandparents had the only bumper pool tale I recall seeing in their bar, and he loved shooting pool.

When my grandparents sold one of their bars, we moved the regular pool table and the bumper pool to our home. I loved the game. Friends would play at the house, but eight-ball was preferred because bars only had traditional tables, and there was no money-mastering game one could play elsewhere.

Now, 8 and 9 ball are money games. Well, nine-ball is for sure. Eight-ball is played mostly for a beer for the winner or a couple of bucks a game. Bumper pool is just a game I played for fun. It involves bank shots and is really a strategy game. My grandfather was pretty much a master at both. A hustler, some would have called him. He would play any game for money, including checkers.

The interesting thing about pool in a bar is that it caused more fights than anything else. My grandmother once told me it was second only to a woman entering the bar. Add a full moon; she expected trouble no matter what.

On the quarters, the trouble wasn’t because someone lost, but because they were arguing over whose quarter was next on the table even though quarters tend to look alike, except for the person claiming it. That person, and one other, always knew THEIR quarter. A person doesn’t take it lightly when another claims the same quarter. None do.

When my uncle Kenny took over the last bar they had, he devised a system to eliminate fighting over who was next. He put up a blackboard, and you wrote your name on it in descending order. In theory, you crossed your name off when it was your turn. That pretty much ended the problems unless someone wasn’t paying attention and missed their game.

I enjoyed growing up in a bar. I learned a lot, and some of what I took away was helpful later in life.

Over the past forty-plus years, I have received various plaques and certificates. The one shown is the only one I care about, although there is one other I wish I had.

Some attorneys purchase awards; I have seen them on websites from time to time. The Martindale-Hubbell one is earned based on peer review and is only sometimes an easy group to please.

Some people believe we’re all in cahoots with each other, working together against their interests. Nothing could be further from the truth. Many attorneys go out of their way to take down their own. It was always like that. We fought hard against each other, but only in court. Perhaps there are too many lawyers, and competition drives some to it.

When I started in Portage County, there were five attorneys with the highest Martindale-Hubbell rating in the whole county. I clerked for one of them. For more than 130 years, Martindale-Hubbell has evaluated attorneys for solid legal ability and high ethical standards through a Peer Review Rating system.

It started with the first publication to provide such ratings to attorneys because there was no way to know if the lawyer a person was considering doing business with was trustworthy, ethical, or skilled in the legal field.

So, I like it, appreciate it, and am proud of it. But I also know I have to maintain a level of competence because it can be lost at any time.

Gun control should never be an issue. The Second Amendment is clear. Trite as it sounds, guns don’t kill people, but bad people with guns do.

We can’t stop murder. Murder is against the law. More laws against murder won’t stop murder. There will

always be people who break the law. It’s the same as more laws

against guns. We know bad people won’t follow new laws because they don’t follow the old ones.

It’s plain old common sense, but as Voltaire noted long ago, “Common sense is not so common.”

The standard definition of a hero is a person who is admired or idealized for courage, outstanding achievements, or noble qualities. I would add self-sacrificing. Trump qualifies as a hero under this definition.

Since 2015, he has faced a barrage of attacks. He has always been successful in each attack, with one notable exception, but vindication appears to come on appeal.

The attacks have been by the government entrenched against him and by their media allies. Those very same people have talked about going after those who support him. With all that happened, including ordinary citizens regarding J6 and even school board meetings, his words, “They’re coming after you—and I’m just standing in their way,” ring true.

Everything has backfired, and the Left has gotten desperate. That’s the storyline. So, the answer is assassination. Except for a turn of the head toward a monitor, the bullet goes through his ear, not his head. It almost seems providential, as though by divine intervention.

Trump goes down. More gunshots are heard. Then he rose, and the former president immediately embodied a stance of defiance and solidarity. Trump is seen, an American Flag flying over his head, blood on his ear and cheek, and fist rai raised in the air, urging those who rallied to see him continue in the battle of good vs. evil, as he was rushed off the stage.

For personal reason reasons, I remember this day in NFL history.

At a press conference held by the Metro Goldwyn Mayer film company in Markyate, England, Cleveland Brown fullback Jim Brown announced his retirement from professional football. The decision was final. Brown pursued an acting care.

Brown had one more year left on his contract, but filming for “The Dirty Dozen” bogged down. Art Modell, owner of the Cleveland Browns, wanted Brown back at training camp in Hiram, Ohio. There were rules, and Brown felt he was letting the team down. The added problem was the Browns needing to prepare for the season without him, at least initially. He felt the right thing to do was retire.

I remember this. I still live about four miles from the Hiram summer training camp. In ’65, after the season started, I would have been turning 13. With friends, we would ride our bikes to Hiram, only four miles away.

I had at least 40, maybe 50, autographs from Brown. After practice, you could go on the field and mingle with the players as they left the field. They would all sign. It was before the union and limitations on signing autographs. People like Brown, Lou Groza, Frank Ryan, and Gary Collins were recognizable and sought after. The players were friendly about it.

I don’t believe all of the players stayed in dorms because one player, driving to practice, aided in the rescue of two people drowning in a river in my town that had flooded the roadway. Quarterback Bill Nelson picked me up hitchhiking one time. Hiram remains a small college town, so there is little to do—a few dated college students and locals.

I wish I had those autographs today. The Dirty Dozen was a good movie. It allowed Brown to retire at the top of his game, which doesn’t always happen for athletes. Bill Nelson lectured me about hitchhiking —not the dangers of it, but because he felt I should be jogging the four miles.

Brown died in 2023 at the age of 87. The legacy he leaves is being the best running back in NFL history, his movies, and his being a social activist.

While I’m not always a big fan of social activism, there are exceptions in his case I agree with. Given an opportunity, he didn’t attack Trump. Brown also consistently stated that he would never kneel during the anthem because he believed the flag should be respected, and it’s not why people come to football games. His thoughts on addressing issues were to do it intelligently within a proper framework.