Olympia Lakefair

I’d heard about it from colleagues long before the Carnie’s started tightening the bolts on Tilt-A-Whirl near the shores of Capitol Lake. What I didn’t realize was just how big of a summer highlight it is for Olympians.

I’m talking about Capitol Lakefair.

Once a year, the shores of Capitol Lake turn into a carnival of unbelievable proportion. Rides, arts and crafts, cheesy carnival games, and a crush of food booths line the northeast side of the water, calling out to locals.

I went down on this afternoon to check out the famous Demoburgers. (Proceeds from the sale of these gastronomic treats support the Thurston County democrats.) Only the brave order the “Mighty D” - a double meat, double cheese, double onion delight served in a cardboard tray with a fork. I stuck with a “messy single” - a basic cheeseburger with sauteed onions.

Curious, I went in search of a food booth that supported the Republican party to see what they were serving. Fairness dictated that I try the other party’s food too. (Maybe it would help make the decision of who to vote for in November a little easier. It would be easier to explain than a complicated government-policy based decision.) I wandered the food aisle twice, finding food booths that supported every group besides the Republican party.

It was on my third pass that I realized I was looking for the wrong food group.

Yup, you guessed it! Elephant ears! Okay, so sales of the ears weren’t exactly supporting the Republican party, but this was as close as the Republicans got to having a food booth.

I ate one anyway. Now I’ve had enough fair food to last me at least until the Puyallup.

Having a productive day?

This site should stop you in your tracks. And while you’re wasting time, you might as well watch the new JibJab cartoon about the Presidential election:

Tour de Southeast Olympia

It was 90 degrees this afternoon when I got home, but my aching weekend-warrior thighs were calling out for movement to loosen them up. Rather than do the Boston Harbor ride tonight (which I’m on deck to do tomorrow with Charlie) I headed south. It was actually quite a pleasant ride, even if I did take it slowly. Click here for the turn-by-turn directions.

More kitty cartoon genius

The third installment of kitty cartoon genius from Simon Tofield:

Now this is my kind of judge

What do you do if you’re a Tacoma, Washington judge and a lawyer files a 465-page racketeering lawsuit you don’t have any interest in reading?

You write a limerick, of course!

“Plaintiff has a great deal to say,
But it seems he skipped Rule 8(a).
His Complaint is too long,
Which renders it wrong,
Please rewrite and refile today.”

Of course the English-major geek inside of me went nuts when Judge Leighton drew a rare comparison between Shakespeare’s “Hamlet” and the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure. In his four-page order granting the defendant’s motion for a more definite statement, he wrote that brevity, in addition to being the soul of wit, is the soul of a pleading. “The Court recognizes the tension between Rule 8(a), which requires a ’short and plain statement,’ and Rule 9(b), which requires the party state his claim with particularity,” wrote Leighton. “The Complaint does not correctly balance this tension.”

So how did the voluminous complaint break down? For starters, Judge Leighton noted that the title to the complaint is eight pages. (Eight pages!!!) Next, the plaintiff uses eighteen pages to list six defendants. “On page 117,” wrote Leighton, “Plaintiff embarks on an odyssey through his claims for relief. While the Court understands that asserting 54 claims requires some space, the 341 pages used to do so is unreasonable.”