As we have discussed before, I am ready to be a Texas version of a Key West percussionist for your Buffett gig whenever you set sail. Like Ken, keep me posted.

[This message was edited by Greg Gilleland on 06-16-05 at .]

The only requisites to join my vision of productive post-prosecutorial life are:

1. No ties;
2. A wardrobe consisting primarily, if not entirely, of garish island wear and flip-flops;
3. A desire to fish and make noise with musical instruments (simultaneously or separately, as the circumstances may dictate); and
4. Character described by the man himself in the following words: "I got a Caribbean soul I can barely control and some Texas hidden deep in my heart."

Let the brethren say, "amen"!

Wow, y'all have given me a heckuva list to choose from! I've done the private practice thing over two decades ago and some of your posts dredged up some less-than-happy memories. I'll never forget one appointed client who literally did not have a shirt to wear to court. I loaned him one of my white shirts and a tie. Believe it or not, even a blind hog finds an acorn and I walked him. And he walked right out of court without so much as a "thank-you" and I never saw my shirt or tie again... But, I digress... I truly can't imagine doing anything else than what I'm doing for a long time to come. It's a steady check and I really feel like I'm helping folks. I'm blessed to have a great staff and they do a wonderful job for not a whole lot of money. On top of all of that, I get to rub shoulders and swap stories with the greatest lawyers in the world like all of you. They can have those silk stocking attorneys at Fulbright, et al. I'll take you guys and gals any day.

Thanks for the compliment, Mike, but I must confess that Scott's vision of the future is calling to me across the waves.

As a pirate looking at 40, and who (as my friends and co-workers will attest) already has the prescribed wardrobe, I may have to take up fishing.

Good thing I work near the water. Maybe I can practice the Buffett act during lunch.

P.S. Still trying to coax that baby out.