8/24/2003
If not for the CAT system, I would most certainly be doing something else with my life right now. I came into reporting immediately post the Baron Megacenter days, at a time when I could load OZpc onto my $3000 monochrome laptop and be a self-contained mobile reporting machine. I’m quite thankful I skipped the notereading/dictating era of reporting, as I’m sure I’d have less hair than I do now had I suffered through those tasks.
That said, the one negative I can point to in the age of CAT is it’s staggering how much I’m completely dependent on the crutch of spellcheck. As an e-mail from a recent visitor pointed out, this blog was, until this morning, littered with misspellings. Problem was I didn’t have the ability to hit a button and have the computer magically rectify my brain farts and other transgressions. Yep, the height of laziness.
Here’s to getting it right the first time from now on.
8/20/2003
You'd think that videographers that are employed directly by court reporting firms would have a decent grasp of what we do, but now I have to question that belief. Had one such operator last week who had problems with my audiotape backup. I trust videographers with my backups, so, as is my usual practice, I didn't run my own. The guy told me at the conclusion of the depo that he'd have to run it at the office and he'd send it right out. I said if he'd get it into the next day's FedEx and send it directly to my scopist, that would be fine. I even offered to put it on my FedEx account!
Three days later my scopist calls to tell me she hasn't seen the tapes yet. I call the guy up, and he informs me he was too busy to do it by the day we agreed to, but that they were going out that afternoon, which was a Friday. We discussed delivery options for Saturday, so I didn't lose a full five days of production time, but he didn't want to foot the bill for that. We agreed to send it out FedEx.
Now, when most people in the free world say "FedEx," that means get it to me next business day, not the low-rent, slow-boat method. Ever-lengthening story short, he sends it second-day FedEx, I guess to save the $3.00, so now the audiotapes get to my scopist a full week after I took the job. Bear in mind that counsel taking this depo was a client of the CR firm for which he works.
Well, we all know how this ends. The day the tapes finally get to my scopist is the day attorneys start calling looking for the depo. Those that know my bashful nature can surely guess what my response was when that call came in from the CR firm.
8/11/2003
I think I've finally discerned what impresses me most: Titans at the top of their game who still find time to be polite to us little people. A quick Googling of my witness' name from the other day reveals he is or has been on the boards of multiple Fortune 100 companies, various international banks and a well-known American university; as well as his current gig as honcho of a large Pacific Rim real estate consortium. I introduced myself to him at the beginning of the day, and at nearly every break he'd turn to me and ask, "Mike, can I get you some more coffee?" This guy worth probably billions asking me by name if he could get me a drink dazzled me more than anything on his resume.
A friend of mine from Chicago tells of a similar experience with now Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld. His depo occurred more than a decade ago when he was in the private sector, but she still reminisces about the way he treated her with the same level of respect usually reserved for heads of state.
8/8/2003
Few things are scarier than Proposition 12, a proposed Constitutional amendment Texas voters will have to weigh in on September 13th. For those of you unfamiliar with Prop 12, it seeks to limit nonmonetary damages in medical malpractice (and by its vague wording, "and other") cases to $250,000. Juries in Texas sentence criminals to death on a daily basis, but according to the insurance lobby, via the Texas legislature, those same juries are incapable of deciding that a grossly negligent doc be hit with a $5 million punitive damage award. What a load of crap.
The most egregious crime this proposed amendment perpetrates against the citizens of Texas is, while it caps jury awards, there is no insurance reform. I'm all for bringing healthcare costs in line, even through lawsuit reform, but I sure as hell don't blindly trust that the greediest bastards on the planet are going to lower malpractice rates to coincide with their newly limited downside. Tenet's CEO's salary is in the $6 million range; he's not gonna get that payday by lowering premiums.
My best guess is that Slick Rick Perry cut a deal with big insurance: Back off and make him look good on his promises to bring homeowners insurance in line, and he'll reciprocate by delivering this utter trampling of Texans' rights with a pretty bow on top.
Do we need healthcare reform? Yes. Is a Constitutional amendment that puts money in the malpractice carriers' pockets the answer? Hell no.
8/5/2003
Oh, joy. I'm actually a huge fan of the TSA. I was flying extensively for work before, during and after 9/11, and I've gotta say that the TSA screeners are infinitely better than the mouth-breathing carnival rejects that used to herd us cattle through the system.
Case in point, I almost got in a screaming match with a Neanderthal at the Corpus Christi airport in October of '01 because, rather than observing me drink from my bottle of Dasani to ensure it wasn't some flammable chemical (a logical request), he insisted I x-ray it. I tried to explain the nuances of the x-ray machine, how it wasn't a magical box that was going to see anything in the water that we couldn't see with the naked eye. This garnered an irate approach by the National Guardsmen, so I opted to x-ray my crystal-clear sparking water, all the while hoping the guy sitting behind me in 13D wasn't toting a bottle of benzene with an Evian label on it.
But back to increased electronics scrutiny at airports in the near term. I flew last week with my machine, and I've finally perfected a system that is 80% effective in expediting my journey through security. I have multiple mesh bags containing all the various bits in my machine case. When I get to the x-ray machine, I whip out my machine, laptop and the net bags containing all the questionable-lookin' stuff, throw them in a tote, and let 'em have a field day with it. I send my machine case through empty; it's the only way. I don't know exactly what they train the TSA screeners to look for, but you put a metal tripod with a Stentura charger wrapped around it on the conveyor belt, when your bag hits the radar screen, watch his face, and you can actually see the exact moment the screener almost soils himself. It's just easier for everyone to lay it all out in the open.
Of course, that said, I'm probably due for the body cavity search next time.
