The issue was briefed and the state was allowed to continue with the prosecution.  It finally ended last Friday with a verdict of “Guilty”.  Although it was good to finally get a trial done and have come out victorious, the legal issue battle will now be brought up in an appeal where once again both sides will have a chance to argue that their version of the law is correct.  While the appeal is in progress the sentence will be on hold…still I’ve managed to get a conviction by trial.  Hopefully it is the first of many.

In order to get their from Reno on time you have to take a super early morning flight and arrive at a somewhat weird time.  At DFW you meet up with some other travelers and are shuttled to the conference hotel.  It is at the same hotel every year.  When I went for the first time in 2003, the first night included electing the National Chief and National Vice Chief.  Before the actual election began in the evening there was a reception where basically those running for office try to work the room and make an impression.  Those who have been before or have been well coached really know what they are doing.  I did not.

After that the 40 something chiefs are locked in a conference room.  Speeches are given in rounds, each round cutting out half of the contenders.  I ran just because it seemed like almost everyone did.  Shockingly, I made it into the second round at which point I had no plan of what to say.  Unsurprising, I did not make it to round 3.  The process takes a long time and no one is allowed to leave the room until a chief is picked.  When there are only two candidates left, the group picks three or so questions for each candidate to answer and final tally is taken and a new National Chief is selected.  The process is repeated for National Vice Chief and by the time its all done it was past midnight.

The next morning, the Regions break off and select their Region Chiefs in a similar fashion.  The room is intense as we are all close (especially in the west) yet you are still running against each other.  There are only 13 votes so you can usually get a pretty good idea of which votes go where.  It was a close race in 2003 with what many would have assumed to be the clear frontrunner coming up short of the win.

One the new chiefs were selected, it was time to start planning for the 2004 National Conference at Michigan Iowa State in July (several thousand Scouts from across the county participate).  The committees broke off and elected youth leaders for each committee in a similar way as the national officer voting.  In my committee, the Founders Day Committee, the voting was deadlocked, tied round after round.  No electors would back down so finally the two candidates picked a number or something just as random to select our leader.  After a leader is selected, we plotted what we wanted our committee to do, what our day of the conference would look like and split our responsibilities.  I was placed in charge of the Goodman Games, a teamwork competitive venue on the last day of the conference.  The next days were spent laying down the groundwork for would be 7 months of intensive planning.  Everything from budgets, staffing, logistics, and execution would have to done well.

Just as quickly as it got off to a dramatic start, the conference ended.  I left with a set of goals and lots of work to complete.  Perhaps more importantly than any actual substance completed, I left with a good understanding of how the meeting and specifically the election of national officers went down.  I would be ready for next year to make a strong run at one of the offices and having seen the process, I would have a leg up.  When the plane landed back in Reno, I had a vision for what would become my 2004.  It was time to get to work.

February was also the month my sister and her husband decided to move from Reno to Washington; leaving me as the sole Armstrong (at least of our family of four) in the Biggest Little City.

The spring marched on as I got used to finally living alone.  It was a nice change of pace although certainly more quiet without having roomies.  The tough part of having a temporary position is that you know it comes to an end.  In preparation for my predetermined termination date of 6/30/2011, I applied for jobs here and there.  There were hits and misses and nothing really came together in time.  It is also hard to get to know your coworkers well only to ditch them once you’ve really hit your pace.

June 30 came and went and I had no job so it was time to go into super job hunter mode.  I lucked into a contract position with firm doing some pretty interesting complex civil legal stuff.  It was good because it at least gave me some income; oh, and the people I was working with were completely awesome too.  At the same time, Senator John Ensign had resigned due to his sex scandal and an impending possible expulsion by the Senate.  Governor Sandoval appointed Congressman Dean Heller triggering a special election for September.  Perhaps it was my desire to have some inside info on the campaign or perhaps the house had just been too quiet but I volunteered to have some Kate Marshall staffers crash at my place.  It was welcome activity in the house.

Then it happened.  I was typing away at my contract job when I got a call in response to a job application that I thought had long passed by.  It was for a grant position doing Domestic Battery and Sex Abuse criminal prosecutions with the AG’s office for three rural counties in Southern/Western Nevada.  I drove down to Tonopah for the interview where I met with a few representatives from the AG’s office and the three DAs I’d be working under.  Shortly thereafter, an offer was made, I accepted and had about two weeks to pack up my things in Reno, find a place in Pahrump and start my job.

It was not a tough decision given the current economy and the sinking feeling that if I didn’t get an actual legal job soon, getting one in the future may get more and more difficult.  It was going to be tough to pick up and leave the family and friends that surrounding me (no to mention the fact that I absolutely loved living in Reno) but duty called.  Would I have told you a year ago that I’d be writing this year’s post from my place in Pahrump? Hell no.  Am I glad I am.  Yes.  The folks back up north ask how I like being in Pahrump and I tell them that while the town isn’t ideal (given my age, the lack of eligible bachelors, and the absence of other young professionals), I really enjoy my job.  Not only the day to day work (which is always different) but the larger mission of combating violence against women and the great people I get the privilege of working with.

Other completely unexpected events of 2011

• my sister becoming pregnant
• a Congresswoman getting shot
• the death of a close adviser
• Tokyo earthquake/tsunami/nuclear crisis
• smooth repeal of DADT
• my ability to navigate Las Vegas
• lack of snow for this ski season

2008 was such a blast because I was still in school and had lots of time to follow all the latest developments.  This year I’m less on top of it but still excited now that the first votes will actually be cast.  The lack of classmates to discuss the results with and the lack of Muchas nachos means that election nights will be less boisterous but perhaps still entertaining.

The Nevada caucus in February could be interesting or could be a total bore (if the nominee is already picked).  It will be especially true given that I’m currently living in the only county Mitt Romney lost in 2008.  The winner? Ron Paul.

The other observation is that the attitude on the plane is much different to and from LAS.  On my way from Vegas to Oakland, the flight crew cracked a few jokes that the passengers didn’t really care about.  A flight from Vegas is subdued.  A flight to Vegas on the other hand is usually filled with booze and boisterous laughter and excitement.  I begin boarding in about 20-30 minutes, my bet is on a much more upbeat flight than the one that brought me to the bay.

This poses an interesting question for someone who adamatly opposes the organization’s current bigoted anti-gay policy while at the same time knows and holds dear the positive impact the organization can have on young men.  So what is one to do?

After giving it a bit of thought, this is what I came up with.  If you want to protest the bigoted policy, don’t give to Friends of Scouting, also know as the general campaign that helps pay for expenses like the office and professional scouters.  Don’t give and tell them why.  If they come up $1,000 short of their goal and they know $1,000 of gay money is missing, perhaps they’ll start to think about that policy.

Do give to something specific if you know it goes directly to the youth.  For example, at the end of January I’m playing in the Double Vigil Golf Tournament in Phoenix.  The money goes to send Native American kids to camp.  Because the money goes directly to a program element, I feel like its less of an endorsement of the terrible anti-gay policy.

Bottom line.  Give if you know that it is going directly to the kids and withhold the FOS and tell them why.

I think the weakness harkens back to elementary school.  My best friend Adam had an awesome old school wood train set.  If to scale, the tracks would have gone on for miles; in reality there was enough track to circle wind throughout the living room and even into the hallway.  The set was a springboard for imagination.  Not only could you come up with infinite variations of track connection but just as many different stories as the trains made their way down the track.  Connecting different cars with the little magnetic connectors.  So I guess I should blame Adam for this weakness at Christmastime.

Of course, today as I was shopping for a token gift for a work function tomorrow, I passed the tree and some little three year old’s number one wish is a train set.  I made my way to the train section and although my selection was greatly diminished this year, I spotted the starter set.  Of course, thanks to Loetes the starter set seemed so insignificant that I started grabbing expansion sets and extra cars.  Assessing my take as being sufficient to at least attempt to match my childhood memory, I made my way to the cashier balancing the packages as this spontaneous course of action did not include me thinking to get a shopping cart.  No to just find the Salvation Army here in Pahrump and it will mission accomplished.

It was good to be able to watch a number of sentencing hearings before my turn at the table.  I find sentencing one of the most interesting parts of the whole process.  It is the moment after a conviction where the State has to decide what the best way to deal with this person is.  Is prison a good fit or does this individual need to go off to boot camp or drug court.  It provides and opportunity to assess the situation and try to craft a punishment that fits the crime….not the strict legal requirements required at trial but a real look at the individual in front of you, the act committed, and the impact on the victim.

It is perhaps the most human and least mechanical moment of the whole process.  Both sides argue and then a climactic moment, the judge makes the decision, the sentence is delivered and more often than not, the individual is placed is handcuffs, looks back at his or her family and is hauled away.  The whole process is somewhat stale up until that moment when the rush of humanity is inescapable.