Happy Rosh Hashanah

Today marks the beginning of the year 5769 in the Jewish calendar. Rosh Hashanah which literally translates to "head of the year" is the Jewish New Year. I wish all our Jewish friends and readers a Happy New Year – Happy Rosh Hashanah.

Paul Newman: A life well lived ...

I once wrote that “the rule of law is one cornerstone of a life that is well lived”. It proposes that a state must, in all instances, subordinate itself to the rights of an individual. But what exactly is “a life that is well lived?” Explaining that nebulous concept is difficult as every person aspires to different things except to say that we know what “a life well lived” looks like when we see one. The life of Paul Newman is one such example. He accomplished many things in his life and did so with the highest level of excellence. Among other things, he was an Oscar award winning actor (Color of Money); a successful businessman; a philanthropist (Newman’s Own) an accomplished Racecar Driver who won the 1995 24 Hours of Daytona at the age of 70 and a championship winning racecar owner (Newman-Hass). But what I admire most about the man is that he was a devoted husband who found a way to make his marriage work while working in the glitzy world of Hollywood.

Rest In Peace, Mr. Newman. You are an inspiration to all of us.

Mo Tales, Hara-kiri

The invitation came by phone. It was the unmistakable voice of Mo’s Mom, “Two hours before sunrise on the third day, arrive at the old oak tree in the middle of the old “Breadbasket Farm”.

The sun was still two hours from rising and I was by the oak tree as she had asked me, at the very spot I was standing, where many kids of my generation had played hide and seek. As I reminisced the carefree days of my childhood, I can’t help but wear a smile and feel cheery inside. All of a sudden, a loud thud interrupted the quiet morning. Unbeknownst to me, Mo’s Mom had been up on the tree and jumped off like an Airborne Trooper to deliver a loud hooting Good Morning. “Are you ready?”, she yelled. For a moment, I was speechless. All I can do was look up at the huge tree that had concealed her wondering how it was that I didn’t see her. “Come on, we have to walk to the spot where Mo said he was going to commit Hara-kiri – ceremonial suicide."

We walked for a few miles and crawled up to a berm to see a clearing with a small table no more than a foot high covered by white cloth with a knife sitting on a white porcelain plate. Gathered around were the two sisters and Mo’s 13 Disciples in quiet contemplation. At exactly sunrise, Mo marched in like Mussolini with a goose step cadence. He wore a white ceremonial robe and kneeled in front of the table. He took a few moments and closed his eyes, exuding reverence, calm and control.

The intensity of the moment caused some members of the crowd to lose control of their emotions. All of the 13 men and 2 women had an assortment of poster like expressions on their faces – at the verge of crying, sullen, long faced, dejected, sorrowful and disconsolate. One was throwing up and another had a steely look while saliva drips off his mouth. They were all there to witness the passing of their beloved Mo.

Mo turned to the crowd and said, “Thank you everyone for being here on this auspicious occasion of my passage. I am doing this because I have committed the highest dishonor that a warrior can commit. I have a face that only a mother can love and despite valiant efforts to the contrary, even my own mother hates me now. And so, I have chosen to end my life in the most honorable way a warrior can – by Sepakku – by thrusting the ceremonial knife in my stomach and disemboweling myself. At the second sound of the gong that you see behind you, I will depart this life and move on to the next. So here and now, I must say my good-bye to all of you”.

Then, he turned to the table and once again remained silent. The morning was cool and the smell of flowers commingling with the delicate scent of the outdoors perfumed the air. A breeze struck my face at the same moment the gong sounded.

Mo partly disrobed by slipping one arm from the sleeve of the robe. He untied the robe to reveal his bulging belly that embarrassingly slumped on the small table. Discovering the miscalculation, he pushed the table forward annoyingly to let the belly land on his lap instead. I could tell that he had polished his belly with baby oil because it was as shiny as a piece of glass.

Wailing cries and sounds of intense anguish could now be heard from the crowd as Mo continued to make his preparation. Then, he held on to the knife and maneuvered it closer to his stomach eliciting more howling and crying from the crowd. He discovered that the closer the knife got to the stomach the louder the crying got. So, for the next few seconds, he was moving the knife away from his stomach and closer again – like a yo-yo – controlling the volume and frequency of howling from the crowd to his own psychotic delight.

Then, without warning, the second gong sounded. GOOOOONG!!!

At the precise moment, Mo plunged both his hands under the table. All that could be  heard was the unmistakable sound of a plastic grocery bag being grappled with by human hands. From under the table, he retrieved a bagel and a small jar of peanut butter. HAAAAAAAAH?, the crowed exclaimed in curious disbelief.  He popped the jar open and instead of thrusting the knife into his stomach, he thrusted the knife into the thick butter of peanut goodness and wiped a thick glob on the bagel. He looked at the crowd and bellowed in a loud voice, “a man doomed to death as I am has the right to his last meal. Mine happens to be bagel with peanut butter”. Then he took the knife and licked the peanut butter off until the knife was spit and polish.

Mo’s Mom looked at me with a smile and said “There you have it. He’s a big-bellied chicken. Let’s get out of here before the crowd finds us and turns on us.” And so we slipped away quietly to ensure our safety. But for Mo’s Mom the disappointment was palpable. He had tricked her again and added another notch to the endless list of motherly deceptions. 

Rancid Fog ...

A few months ago I came across a postcard advertising the “California Coastal Cleanup Day” and was struck by the peculiar and effective image of an Egret with a cigarette for beak that the organizers developed called Cig Egret. So I held on to it hoping that I could arrange my schedule and somehow participate in the cleanup scheduled for September 20, 2008. The cleanup included beaches, parks and trails all across California. Last year, approximately 60,000 Californians participated in the cleanup.

I’m a trailrunner and a mountain biker and derive great pleasure in using our parks in California. So by necessity, I am an environmentalist. I try to be gentle to the trails and parks whenever I use them – trying my best not to disturb natural habitats and never littering. But that was only one of the reasons why I participated. Beyond that, I have a serious bone to pick with cigarette manufacturers.

I remembered a story about Michael Jordan and his mental preparation routine before games particularly for the play-offs and championship games. He was known to invent slights perpetrated by players on the opposing teams so that when he gets on the court, he already has boiling anger towards them. I didn’t have to create a slight to get a strong sense of indignation, as my mother has been a smoker all her life. The pain she goes through – the coughing spells – are quite revolting. And yet, she could never stop smoking.

I decided to go to the Dana Point Harbor and arrived early enough to make sure I had first pick on the equipment. I got there before 9AM and secured a mechanical tong so I can pick up trash without bending down. I deliberately focused on cigarette butts to get a sense of outrage and spent one and a half hours doing that. There were some 120 volunteers at the Dana Point Harbor alone by the time I left at 10:30AM and more were arriving. Apart from the other types of trash and recycables that I collected, I picked up 428 cigarette butts.

Of all the many fights that I’ll be waging in the future, the one against the cigarette manufacturers will probably be one of the most daunting, grueling and punishing. So, every opportunity to intensify that anger, the easier it will be to overcome all the challenges that will come along with it. I’ve decided to call that war “RANCID FOG".

(Robert's Note: When viewing the Cig Egret postcard, click on flip at the bottom.)

A victory, perhaps ...

In aggregate, all the cases I am trying is a huge war with many little battles in between. This is one tiny victory to be happy about.

I got an interesting message from Susan L. Angell, Esq., the attorney for my brother. She claimed that she is no longer representing my brother, his wife, my brother’s wife’s sister, and my other brother. She was responding to some moving papers that I served her including a “Motion to Consolidate” (Mad Cow with Unprofessionals) and a “Request for Default Judgment”. I am very skeptical about this revelation and have decided to take this news with guarded optimism until I can confirm that this is in fact what transpired. The court will have to give me notice to this effect.

Just a few days ago, I appeared in Judge Bank’s courtroom for a “Motion to Disqualify Counsel”, meaning to try to get Ms. Angell taken off as the opposing counsel. Part of the package I sent was a “Subpoena Duces Tecum” – a court order to produce documents - requiring her to bring the alleged “Tenancy Agreement” to the hearing. The motion was denied. But as expected, she did not show up because to do so would implicate her in the "Fraud" of producing a fabricated document. Because she is now a Defendant in the case, I have a suspicion that she excused herself as counsel so she can focus her attacks on my brother and his wife and pin the blame entirely on them. There is no such thing as honor among thieves. When things get a little hot under the collar, it’s everyone for themselves. She has a lot to lose and will probably maneuver her defense so all the blame is cast on someone else.

David, the lawyer I am staying with, said that I am an attorney’s worse nightmare. She probably doesn’t know it yet but Attorney Angell’s nightmare is just beginning.

Pres. Bush's "Faith Based Program" a crock ...

I just returned from Saint Timothy’s Catholic Church after receiving some very unwelcome news. I had just entered the Front Office this morning and had just gotten a seat when Diane greeted me. “Good Morning, Robert”, she said. “Hi Diane”, I replied. “I’m afraid I have a some bad news for you. I spoke to Gary and the other gentlemen and I was told that we wouldn’t be able to help you with your copies and stamps anymore”. “That’s interesting”, I thought to myself.

There were a couple of occasions when their copy machine actually broke down while making copies for me – disrupting their front office and the routine of the staff. But more than that, I suspect that they weren’t expecting to make copies for me as much as they have. I had been conscious of this and made it a point to come by only once a week. Faced with the dilemma, I asked to speak to Gary and see if they could make an exception just for today. Unfortunately, he was gone. So, there I was with my papers unable to make copies and serve them to my opposition. I was disappointed beyond belief.

The churches have great programs for addicts, alcoholics, people with mental illness and people who just need a bridge to get over a touch patch. If you do not fall under any of those categories, as I do, it is virtually impossible to get the assistance that you need in exactly the way you want it. Over the many years, churches have been targets of scams by people posing as needy individuals and so they have learned to be skeptical and suspicious, to the detriment of people who are legitimately in need.

Most state sponsored social programs also have their challenges. Their desire to help everyone is hampered by the limited resources available to them – they only get an x amount of dollars every year. Given that, their priorities are usually focused on food and housing. So, if you enter their offices saying that you have food and are happy living in your car, they can’t help. They are the more averse if you tell them that you are in the biggest fight of your life and have legal cases that you are litigating and need copies and stamps.

My experiences tests what can be done with the limited resources available. I am trying cases without a law degree and by all accounts doing so as an indigent. For me it’s like climbing Mount Everest and learning as you go. The churches and Social Services can no longer help me. My very own family has even turned their backs on me. It’s exhilarating and full of pitfalls and heartache. And if there is anything that I have learned thus far, there are two things. First, you can only count on your own self. And second, President Bush’s “Faith Based Program” is a bunch of crock.

Rich & Nina (14th September 2008)

It was an unusually hot day even by the coast. I had sought to cool myself with a glass of expensive but colorful tourist drink and was in the middle of taking a refreshing gulp when a man carrying an oversized surfboard nudged me. It was so forceful it threw me off my seat causing me to spill the colorful concoction on my white shirt. One moment I was a tourist wannabe and the next I was wearing the tie-dyed colors of a rabid Grateful Dead fan.

“Hey Bud, what’s your problem? Careful with the board!, That was completely bogus”, he said indignantly while inspecting his board. “This schlong cost me some pretty righteous bucks and it had better make it to the Banzai Pipeline before it gets a gnarly gash on it”.

Rich is one of those freaks of nature that happens unexpectedly and with such force. The last time I saw him, he was a Mafia Don with a thick Italian accent serving me with a slice of pizza. This time he is a Southern California Surfer Dude in the mold of Jeff Spicolli from the movie Fast Times at Ridgemont High. He came out of the ocean wearing dark shades with a strap and wholly the recipient of one of two distinct possibilities. He either started a buzz way too early in the morning or too many waves crashed on his skull. Either way, he didn’t recognize me.

“Rich, it’s me”. I said. “Duuuuude it’s you. Right on! Sorry ‘bout going agg on you dude. I’m still amped because I took off on this killer wave that went Niagara Falls. It dropped me in a real bitchin’ Maytag that just owned me. I ended up with a hillbelly, a sand facial and a Neptune cocktail all at the same time. It was totally gnarly! That was about an hour ago and I still can’t feel my face”. He took off his shades. I didn’t say anything but I noticed that his eyes were very badly crossed, which explained why he didn’t recognize me.

“What’s with the surfer pose, man?”, I asked. He smiled at me and said. “I am in search of the ultimate wave – a Betty, an Emma, a Babelini by the name of Nina. I want to get close to her and whisper softly in her ears – hey baby, let’s party. And I want to take her to the most exotic surf spots on earth so we can go tandem on a longboard together. Before I can do that, I have got to be able to hang with Laird Hamilton on a big wave. And to be honest with you, I don’t know how much more of this I can take. See the Achilles of my left foot? One time, I ate it on this ginormous wave and somehow my foot got attached to the back of my head. When the white water cleared, I was like some messed up Yogi in a pretzel sitting on the beach unable to stand up”.

“Do you know the difference between a big wave rider and just a regular surfer”, he asked me. “No, I don’t”, I replied. “The difference is passion, he said. "There is nothing that I will not do to finally end up with my Nina".

I looked behind us and saw a long line on the sand left by the huge surfboard that Rich was dragging behind him. I can tell he had a rough day on the waves. The line was wavy, almost certainly done by a man who was walking drunk. I’m not sure if he was drunk because of the pounding that he got from the waves or that he was drunk from the infatuation he had for Nina. But, the situation I was facing was getting more and more troubling because judging from the direction we were heading we’ll certainly be sitting in a local surfer’s watering hole just up the beach. In his condition, if Rich got any more drunk, he’ll end up more than a messed up Yogi. I'll be looking at some Rajneesh wearing his surfboard around his neck. 

September 11th Tradition

I could still remember vividly the day the World Trade Center was attacked on that September morning in 2001. Seven years have passed and yet the images and emotions that swirled inside me have not gone away completely. I have often asked, what could have been done to prevent the events of that fateful day? I suppose many things, but there were only a few that were even in my own control – like how I feel about people. One thing is certain, the world has never been the same since.

Starting today, let us work on things that we can control. I submit that 9-11 was a product of man’s self-loathing and lack of respect for the sanctity of life. There are three things that we can do to alter the paradigm. As a matter of tradition, we should find a way to reach out to someone in our life whom we have lost track with or simply have not communicated with in the past. We will try to usher an era of understanding. There cannot be understanding without communication.

First, write a letter to someone you have not seen or heard from in a long while – a friend, a colleague, a classmate etc. Draft your letter with your computer but when you are done, handwrite your letter. This is essential because anything that you create with your own hands has the power to touch a person’s heart. Limit your letter to one page and mail it within the next few days.

Second, from this point forward, you will promise yourself (not anyone else) that you will make a conscious effort to stop the act of terminating life – be it a bug, a bee, a fly or anything that you can crush with your feet with (snails). The exception will be for those that you will need to nourish your body. You cannot kill anything that you will not eat. If you find an insect or bug in your house, simply flag it out the window or door. I have been doing this for many years and find that I unshackle myself from the misperception that a small animal no more than the size of my nails can bring me significant harm. There are always exceptions – we leave that to your own discretion.

Third, show your child how to value life by being a great example. One day while my daughter was still young, she called me screaming that she saw a spider. I found a harmless “daddy-long-legs” spider. I grew up in the Philippines and was always around insects and bugs and I used to play with spiders so it didn’t bother me. I told her that the spider is my friend. As a defensive weapon, the “daddy-long-legs” will vibrate up and down to make it appear bigger to an adversary. So, I inched my finger to touch one of its legs and when I did, it made that vibrating movement that made it appear as though he was shaking my hands. “See, Bambina”, I told my daughter. “You mustn’t be afraid because he is my friend, and he's shaking my hands”.

You don’t have to do the exact same thing. You can simply have a walk with your child and when you come upon a snail, show your child how to pick it up and move it to a safe place so it doesn’t get crushed by cars or pedestrians. Little things like that will make an indelible impression on a child and teach them how to value life. I would suggest to you that person who can value the life of a lowly snail will likely not pick up a weapon to hurt another human being in anger.

That is how we can honor those whose lives were lost on that fateful day. But do not get me wrong. We should always go after terrorists and others who wish to inflict harm on other people and bring them to justice. 

Ping-Pong Defense

In a past entry I mentioned the possibility of collusion between the attorneys in the Lacambra vs. Glass and Lacambra vs. First Team cases. I didn’t want to take a chance and have them claim that they haven’t received any of my papers. So, I served them a “Motion to Consolidate Cases” this afternoon. The hearing will be heard on the 10^th of October.

I have never seen so much duplicity and trickery from attorneys in my whole life. One of the attorneys, Susan Angell Esq., who represents my brother, is already named as a Defendant and has been playing dodge with the “Sheriff’s Department” who’s been trying to serve her a Complaint and Summons. A report I received from them stated four out of the six visits, the Sheriff’s Deputy observed movement in the house and on occasion the t.v. was on but nobody answered the door. The other attorney, Thomas Lucero, who represents First Team Realty, after being informed that I was evicted from the old house, still kept sending his moving papers to my old address. And finally, I was made aware of a letter from Mr. Lucero addressed to Ms. Angell that a package addressed to Ms. Angell was sent to his office and that a package he was expecting has not arrived. That is called the “Ping-Pong Defense”. Off course, I have people who will testify that not only were the packages put in the mail but also the copies were made and stamps placed on the envelopes. The opposing counsels will do whatever it takes to help each other win their cases against me. That is why I needed to have them both in the same courtroom so we can find out who is really lying.

This gives me the incentive to find a legislator who will sponsor a bill that makes it a severe punishable crime to deprive a self-represented party of his or her rights while trying a case in court. But more importantly, I will bring a federal case against the attorneys and their law firms before the end of this month. This decision came to me this afternoon while sitting on a boat owned by my friend Felix anchored at the Dana Point Marina. He has a number of cases that he is actually trying right now. One is against the OC Sheriff’s Department and another against the CA Bar Association to name just a couple. He has a very deep distaste for bullies - so do I.

This should be an interesting fight.   

Robert's Battles

I've started making a catalog of all the actions that I am currently involved in. You can find it on the right side of this page entitled "ROBERT'S WARS". I'll have to do it by installment over the next few days. I am currently swamped with work producing responsive and moving papers that I need to file this week. There will be more battles in the future. Unfortunately, I can only publish cases that are already on docket. To write about a lawsuit that will be filed in the future against a Defendant could be grounds for a "defamation suit". To prevent such an action being leveled on me, I will refrain from doing so until the case is filed and in the public domain. 

Pirates Consolidated ...

Lacambra vs. Public Storage

Last Friday I appeared before Hon. David Chaffee on a motion I filed to consolidate the two actions with the same parties – one in Santa Ana, CA in the Unlimited Jurisdiction and another one in Laguna Hills, CA in the Limited Jurisdiction. I knew that the case would ultimately be consolidated and arrived at the courthouse confident. When I got there, the “Preliminary Ruling” was already posted for my review:

30-2008-107467

Lacambra VS Public Storage

Motion to Transfer and Consolidate Cases

Moving party is correct that the two cases do involve the same facts, law and witnesses.  Judicial economy would be served by combining the two cases.  However, Moving Party will need to explain why this case should not be transferred to the Harbor Court limited jurisdiction panel.  Given the allegations of the Complaint, how can this case be worth $25,000? 

The differences between the two courts are based on the amount of damages sought. Limited Jurisdiction is up to $25,000 and everything over that amount is usually presided by the Unlimited Jurisdiction. So, I stepped outside and prepared my argument to answer the question: Why is this case worth more than $25,000?

At the hearing, I explained to Judge Chaffee that I had three reasons. First, that I was seeking Punitive Damages entitling me to an award approximating 1/3 of the Defendant’s net worth. I pointed out that Public Storage is a Fortune 500 Company. He corrected me and explained that the limits are up to 1/6^th of the net worth. Second, I told him that I would eventually seek “Class Action Status” recognizing that many other renters such as myself were certainly aggrieved. Third, I said, that because I was a Pro Per Litigator (self-represented), it would serve me best if I was protected by stricter rules and evidence standards provided by the Unlimited Jurisdiction. 

Before adjourning, Judge Chaffee ordered the Defendant to serve notice of the ruling. My understanding was that the case will be consolidated at the Unlimited Jurisdiction but will wait for the formal ruling after Judge Chaffee reviews all the papers from the other court. 

Hydrogen

September 8th is a very special day for me. Many important things have occurred on this date. On the same day in 1993, I founded a company called Capital America Corporation, a mortgage company that specialized in providing mortgage financing to entrepreneurs and self-employed individuals. I managed and operated that company until my divorce in December of 2002.

On the same day in the year 1996, my life was made the better by the arrival of my son, Nelson Warren Lacambra who celebrates his 12th birthday today. To all his close friends and relatives he goes by the nickname Boo2 (pronounced Boo-Boo). Happy 12th Birthday, son.

To continue with the tradition, I wish to announce the founding today of "HYDROGEN LACAMBRA", an organization whose goal is to advance hydrogen based technologies to power industry, communities and transportation - to try to wean America from its dependence on foreign oil.

A couple of years ago, Nelson expressed his desire to study at the U.S. Naval Academy in Annapolis and become a Naval Officer. Fast forward many years from now and global petro-politics has gone dirty and ugly and some third world punk from an oil rich country says that he will take over the "Strait of Hormuz" and cut off America's oil supply. It has always been this country's policy to protect its access to oil and will not stand for that kind of nonsense. I'm a little too old to sign up for boot camp even today. But, chances are my son will be stationed somewhere and will be ordered to diffuse that situation and/or protect the nation's interest. A highly volatile situation like that can always escalate to something out of control requiring naval projection of the nation's military might. Here's a way to mitigate that - let's find a way to develop our own energy source independent from the increasingly competitive and unpredictable world of global petro-politics.

I am a passionate Motorsports Enthusiast. One of my lifelong goals is to go to Circuit De La Sarthe in Le Sarthe, France and race in the 24 Hours of Le Mans. I want to campaign a self-funded privateer race team and win our class outright using a hydrogen-powered car piloted by my son Nelson, my daughter Ashley and myself.


I dedicate this effort to my children - my babies - whom I hope never see a day of war in their life.

Yestradamus 090708

From the embers of Homiscius and Bumipheus

a flash of fire, a storm of earth and shriek of wind

a change immense and consequential

One Hundred pebbles in a calming stream

This quatrain reminds me of one unforgettable summer in the early 80’s. It was a hot day and I rode my beach cruiser down the beach without my shirt on. In those days, my v-shaped physique allowed me such vanity to the whistling and hollering appreciation of Southern California chicks. Unfortunately, these days I’d be happy if the babes would just smile at me. I noticed that when I stand up straight, I couldn’t even see my feet anymore because my belly is in the way.

The phrase “embers of Homiscius and Bumipheus”, is a transliteration of “Member of the Fraternal Order of Homeless Bums” (MOFOHOBU) whose membership only requires that you can pose the following question in a polite and dignified manner: “Sir/Madam, can you spare me some change?”

That year, Sony had just released the Walkman and I was listening to a tape recording of Earth, Wind and Fire (see second line) singing:

“Do you remember, the 21^st night, September?

Love was changing the minds of pretenders.

While chasing the clouds away.”

The only thing was, I wasn’t chasing any clouds away but a homeless bum who had ran away with my beach cruiser I named Bella that I bought at a flea market. By the time the chase got on the asphalt road, my feet got busted up because I was running barefooted. The bum had gotten away. I was completely bummed out!

Later that evening, on my way home I saw a group of what appeared to be locals having a bonfire at the beach and approached them. Darkness had descended but I recognized the bum I chased earlier sitting by the fire with a bottle of Vodka just about to take a swig when I took his bottle. “Where the hell is my bike, you dirty bum?”, I asked. He looked at me and said nothing. I asked him again and again. But no reply.

One of the elders of the group approached us. He had overheard what I was asking the bum and explained that the reason the man wasn’t answering me was because he was mute. “Mute?”. “You mean, he can’t talk?”, I asked. "Yes", he replied. Then he said, “Friend I would guess that he had hocked your bike at a Pawn Shop so he can buy a drink. There is only one Pawn Shop around here. Wait until the morning and you can get it back. But while you are here, join us, we are all here trying to forget our problems”. I was exhausted and was feeling pity for the man that I just walked away and took a drink from his bottle; the bottle that was purchased with my bike.

Here’s what I can tell you about Vodka. I have been around the world and drank some interesting drinks. “Veergin: That’s Beer mixed with Gin”. “Gin-wine” (genuine) – that’s Gin mixed with Wine or “Mountain-Gin” – that’s Mountain Dew mixed with Gin. But Vodka that is made from Potato when drank straight up, you’d better have a couch to settle in because you’ll end up more than a couch potato. Everything the next morning was a blur, like the morning after a college frat party.

Analyst 147X

TO BE CONTINUED 1 OF 2

For Carmichael ...

Right after I was evicted in February, I found myself in Laguna Beach and stayed at the America’s Best Inn for about a month. At that point, most of my personal belongings where already in storage. I made the disclosure to the manager that I was effectively homeless which required that I pay the full amount in cash and in advance. The second month I was there, the manager and I made a deal that gave me 10 days to raise cash for a 30 day rental extendable from month to month. She was aware that I had to sell some of my personal property to be able to pay in cash. Most motels usually take payments at the end of the guest’s stay. But because of the special circumstances I was in – an indigent - a cash payment made her comfortable. Unfortunately, something went wrong and she was countermanded by the owner.

On the 9^th day, and in complete violation of an agreement I personally made with the manager, the owner arranged for my early departure/eviction. In all, the lawsuit named three causes of action including Fraud, Negligence and Intentional Infliction of Emotional Harm and alleged violations of CA Civil Codes Section 1863 and 1865, which provides:

1863.  POSTING OF STATUTE AND RATES

(a) Every keeper of a hotel, inn, boardinghouse or lodginghouse, shall post in a conspicuous place in the office or public room, and in every bedroom of said hotel, boardinghouse, inn, or lodging house, a printed copy of this section, and a statement of rate or range of rates by the day for lodging.

(b) No charge or sum shall be collected or received for any greater sum than is specified in subdivision (a).  For any violation of this subdivision, the offender shall forfeit to the injured party one hundred dollars ($100) or three times the amount of the sum charged in excess of what he is entitled to, whichever is greater. There shall be no forfeiture under this subdivision unless notice be given of the overcharge to such keeper within 30 days after payment of such charges and such keeper shall fail or refuse to make proper adjustment of such overcharge.

1865.  RIGHT TO EVICT GUEST

(c) In addition to, and not in derogation of, any other provision of law, every innkeeper shall have the right to evict a guest in the manner specified in this subdivision if the guest refuses or otherwise fails to fully depart the guest room at or before the innkeeper's posted checkout time on the date agreed to by the guest, but only if both of the following conditions are met:

(1) If the guest is provided written notice, at the time that he or she was received and provided accommodations by the innkeeper, that the innkeeper needs that guest's room to accommodate an arriving person with a contractual right thereto, and that if the guest fails to fully depart at the time agreed to the innkeeper may enter the guest's guest room, take possession of the guest's property, re-key the door to the guest room, and make the guest room available to a new guest.  The written notice shall be signed by the guest.

This is an interesting case because of what this will allow me to do if I meet my goal. Around the first week of March, I witnessed an accident while on a bus. The victim was homeless and a handicap. I started doing preliminary research about what I witnessed and have found a compelling case. I can’t give out the specifics on this blog because it will tip the Defendant of my plans. But I did promise the homeless man – Carmichael – that I will take him off the streets and when I know that he is safe we will pursue his case. So, I hope that this motel tries to settle early because my analysis shows me that it makes economic sense to settle. If they do, I’ll ask that they provide a place for my homeless friend. Then, Carmichael and I will file suit to compel a very important public transportation agency  to provide better services to handicapped individuals.

The Devil is in the detail ..

I was finally able to file the “Motion to Vacate Judgment” on the Shea Properties Case. The matter was placed on calendar for the 3rd of October – exactly a month from today. I was wrestling with the decision of whether I should move the case to a Federal Jurisdiction or just keep it at the Superior Court. In the end, the iconic case number – 07CC10666 – won out. It has such an interesting numerology for branding and marketing opportunities that it seemed a mistake to move it. I was thinking of getting some shirts silk-screened and came up with some preliminary ideas:

I”M BATTLING THE DEVIL IN THE SUPERIOR COURT

O7CC10666

I’M PERFORMING AN EXORCISM IN COURT

07CC10666

DEVIL BE DAMMED, I WANT MY RIGHTS

07CC10666

THE COURT AIN’T THE PLACE FOR THE DEVIL

07CC10666

YOU CAN GO TO HELL

07CC10666

We’ll get some interesting ideas about this the next few days and I’ll post some more of these taglines. Who knows maybe it will morph into something big. 

Baby Boomers ...

There are a number of individuals who frequent the AV Library. But there was one individual in particular who caught my attention some months ago. I was already deeply engaged in all my lawsuits and was looking for others who are in my same situation. From time to time I would notice this retiree reading the CA Statutes and Code - books that are usually only used by legal professionals and are distinct in its deep blue cover. At first, I thought perhaps he was a retired lawyer or a retired professor of the law. He had such a demeanor to him that gave me that impression. Finally, one day a few months ago, I saw him at the Santa Ana Public Law Library at one of the tables with a number of books open in front of him. After seeing him for many months at the AV Library without even saying hello, I approached him to introduce myself. That was how our friendship began.

His name is Roy and he lives in a retirement community in Laguna Hills called “Leisure World”. After several informal meetings with him, I came to understand why he was doing legal research. One time he invited me to his house to show me stacks and stacks of documents, copies and other literature that he had gathered himself implicating “Board of Directors” of his community in a number of illegal acts.

There are two things I look for in people: “Passion” – having something you care deeply about and “Courage” – having the ability to do something that frightens you. Roy lacked neither. He told me about one board meeting where he brought his grievances to the public and was later accosted by security officials who demanded that he leave. Generally, people his age would be averse to anything remotely resembling a fight. Yet, there he was spending his time and energy preparing what is now surely developing into a Federal Case based on HUD Statutes and the violation of his Civil Rights.

I found his case fascinating. A huge block of our population, 78 Million, born between 1946 and 1964 called the Baby Boomers is now retiring in droves. Some statistics I’ve seen shows that every 10 seconds a Baby Boomer turns 60 years old. Many of these individuals will be moving into retirement communities not unlike Roy’s and have their rights compromised if not outright violated. The action that we are now preparing will prevent many of these things from happening in the future.

I’ll establish a page on this blog that catalogs all the actions that I am involved in. I’ve resolved to participate in cases like Roy’s and others that have the distinct power to make changes in our society. I’ll post that page before the end of the week.