I said I wouldn’t update the blog until tomorrow, but what do I know?
It’s ironic that I’m in the city of philia, a city I had no love for when I spent three years here as a broke, drunk, underachieving law student. Seems like another lifetime.
The only bright spot was clerking during the summers for a hilariously nasty, old-school, prosecution-leaning criminal court judge. I loved when he’d yell at grown men who dared enter his courtroom wearing a hat, with his booming voice ricocheting against the walls. I don’t care how “street” or sophisticated the men were. They were all humbly embarrassed.
I’m in a hotel across from the gothic City Hall building that houses that courtroom. While I was there, I could pretend to be a serious law student in my little suits, sitting at a desk near the judge. Then came graduation, failed bar exams, running home to mother, and more drinking. By the grace of God, I didn’t hit “bottom” or continue drinking too many years beyond that. I’ll be sober nine years this March. (See A Sobering Truth)
Philadelphia is not a bad place; I just have a bad association with it. And the southerner in me finds it too big, too tall, and too dirty. Washington, D.C., with its southern flavor and building height limit, is just enough city for me. Thanks for reading this stream-of-consciousness post. Do you realize some people blog like this all the time? 
Other Justice Sunday III bloggers: Charmaine Yoest, Ed Morrissey, Stacy Harp, and RightWingSparkle.
Update: Read about the conference and view photos.
