Buying new Mercedes
for five shysters in three states (the sixth shyster was a friend of
mine) is kinda rough on a fella, especially since he knows that there are certain "givens"
in a divorce and he is gonna be doing the giving! The wife is going to get the house, car, kids, savings and
retirement accounts, plus child support, dental and medical care, and
the dog. In certain states she is eligible for alimony as well.
The
husband gets squat. Well, at least in Florida he can get debtor's
prison. That's something. His quality of life will diminish somewhat,
living in the dismal dump that is all he can afford. At least the
roaches are large and numerous enough to provide plenty of protein.
The judge can set any amount of the husband's income for child
support, etc. with automatic adjustments for inflation. Keep in mind,
the ratchet works only one way. It always goes up, never down.
What happens if he gets a raise? Yup. Sweet little Ellie Sue can
petition the court and presto, she gets a whacking big increase in
child support, etc. The State gets some as well. His tax rate
reflects the total raise, hence the raise is actually a decrease of
income while child support has gone up! Please boss, don't give me
another raise or I'll go broke!
What
happens if he looses his job? Why, it becomes rather difficult to pay
child support. The State will rather rapidly throw one in debtor's
prison where he has 6 months to re-consider the wonderfulness of the
most beautiful girl under the bleachers and their snot monsters. He
well might get some tender “lovin'” as well although it might not
be exactly the type he prefers. Bobo the beast needs some lovin' as
well.
The
State will save one the problem of renewing any licenses that one may
need for future employment, driver's license as well. They all get
canceled. So when the poor critter gets out, he'll be homeless, his
vehicle impoundment charges exceed its value, his household goods
including that wonderful dented aluminum pot he got at the flea
market he boiled his morning gruel in, have been donated to a worthy
charity. The one that has many fleet feet and comes by night. ...and
he still owes child support.
Now
for the routine that I was put through was a bit different. My final
hearing on child support (ex-wife's play money) was held in the
Mobile County Courthouse with my shyster there being “Judge”
Herndon Inge, a total waste of oxygen. However, F. Lee Bailey would
be useless representing a white man in front of Judge Cain Kennedy's
civil court. There were approximately two dozen future victims
waiting for their turn with the knife at their throats as Judge
Kennedy was one black man who hated white boys. I was somewhat
amused at first as he gaveled down death and destruction on one after
another until he came to number five. This guy was just a skinny old
dirt farmer, maybe fifty or so, who had taken a “bride” last
year. It wasn't working out and she had filed for divorce. She was in
her twenties, totally slovenly with her Bermuda shorts skin-tight on
her thighs, legs crossed and bouncing, hair disheveled, a real
“treat” for one's eyes.
The
old farmer was very respectful and explained that he and his brother
had been cropping the land that had been in their family for three
generations and his share of the farm's profits were less than the
demanded alimony. The judge, being a wise and fair man, awarded the
slattern, among other things, the entire farm and farmhouse. “Thank
you, your Honor.” Number ten (I was number eleven) sitting beside
me turned chalk white.
As
expected, it was a continued slaughter as the day advanced. I don't
really know why we were summoned in front of this “judge” as he
already knew how he was going to rule. ...probably just enjoyed
watching the maggots squirm. When my turn came, he merely set the
terms ungodly higher than my income plus I was required to pay a huge
amount of baksheesh to his “court.”
After
my turn getting gutted, I turned to leave the courtroom only to find
my shyster gone. Didn't matter of course, however it was bad
form as I had paid him $6,600 and my ex's $2,000 to be present at my
gutting. ...come to think of it, no one else's shyster stood up for
their clients either. Considering who the judge was, I suppose it was
“why bother?”
He
was far down the hallway in front of the elevator bank with a
handsome young man that was introduced to me as my ex's shyster. He
invited me to come down and meet my ex. I declined, they wrapped
their arms around each others shoulders and got on an elevator. I
took the stairs. I haven't been back to Alabama since.
I
had to come up with a way to pay the child support. It would have
been easy enough if I had remained at Sandia, however my life would
have been a lot shorter if I remained. The expected move to Laurence
Radiation Labs vanished with Jim C's death, resurrecting MTB
Associates was problematical, and finding employment elsewhere was
virtually impossible due to the severe damage done to me by the
mexicans. Many years prior, I had vowed to myself not to be involved
with offensive weapon systems again (see DALMO-VICTOR for more),
however, the pay is rather good for a rapid turn-around. The job in
mind required a fair amount of legal council prior to submitting a
proposal (see LAWYERS ARE PEOPLE TOO), was done, and a full payout
for support made. With my medical condition, either my vow went or I
would eventually become Bobo's girlfriend. Vow went and frankly, I
could have cared less what the systems did to the creatures on either
side. There wasn't a trace of humanity in either.
So
tomorrow, July 22nd, 2015 will mark 30 years without
seeing my sons. Such is life.
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