I am Barbra Streisand.
No, Wayne, that is not a confession that I will be showing up in next year's drag queen competition.
And not the Barbra who keeps threatening to leave her southern California paradise if the voters do not follow her political wishes.
I am the Barbra who seems to revel in farewell tours. That is the reputation I am developing amongst my peers.
No more than two weeks ago, I grandly announced in the old ball game that I was hanging up my legal presentation tap shoes. My days as Anne Miller were at an end. (A kind-hearted editor would suggest to me at this point that I might choose sharing these life style analogies with a therapist, rather than a now-piqued blog audience. But who can afford an editor at these wages?)
Apparently, those who schedule my life were not ready to let me shuffle off to The Old Actors' Home. Tomorrow, a group of investigators will be regaled with the intricate details of workers' compensation evidence and discovery.
Next week, I will soft shoe my way through three hours of confidentiality and public records management. (I am willing to bet you are all pulling out your Visa cards to get a piece of that action.)
November and February, I will be presenting 1-hour classes on new cases in workers' compensation law.
And the pièce de résistance will be five classes on new developments in the law for insurance agents -- in late April. I feel rather confident that I will be calling in that performance. If all goes well, I will be on my way to Mexico.
I mentioned my concerns about this very thing two days ago. One reason I was reluctant to announce my retirement too early was that my attempts to transition away from some of these tasks would simply engender more speaking engagements. At some point, I will start feeling like Mickey Mouse as the sorcerer's apprentice in Fantasia.
But not yet.
All right, Mr DeMille, I'm ready for my close up.
No, Wayne, that is not a confession that I will be showing up in next year's drag queen competition.
And not the Barbra who keeps threatening to leave her southern California paradise if the voters do not follow her political wishes.
I am the Barbra who seems to revel in farewell tours. That is the reputation I am developing amongst my peers.
No more than two weeks ago, I grandly announced in the old ball game that I was hanging up my legal presentation tap shoes. My days as Anne Miller were at an end. (A kind-hearted editor would suggest to me at this point that I might choose sharing these life style analogies with a therapist, rather than a now-piqued blog audience. But who can afford an editor at these wages?)
Apparently, those who schedule my life were not ready to let me shuffle off to The Old Actors' Home. Tomorrow, a group of investigators will be regaled with the intricate details of workers' compensation evidence and discovery.
Next week, I will soft shoe my way through three hours of confidentiality and public records management. (I am willing to bet you are all pulling out your Visa cards to get a piece of that action.)
November and February, I will be presenting 1-hour classes on new cases in workers' compensation law.
And the pièce de résistance will be five classes on new developments in the law for insurance agents -- in late April. I feel rather confident that I will be calling in that performance. If all goes well, I will be on my way to Mexico.
I mentioned my concerns about this very thing two days ago. One reason I was reluctant to announce my retirement too early was that my attempts to transition away from some of these tasks would simply engender more speaking engagements. At some point, I will start feeling like Mickey Mouse as the sorcerer's apprentice in Fantasia.
But not yet.
All right, Mr DeMille, I'm ready for my close up.
