Unnecessary Antics

不必要

　　　In civil litigation courts grant a fair deal of leeway for injuries sustained in sport.  To heavy a hand might deter participants from full good faith involvement.  Players assume the risk of injury.  Can't sue for something that's just a necessary part of the game.  The same goes for spectators in many circumstances.  If you twist your wrist trying to catch a foul ball, don't expect any judge to grant you damages. Just part of the game, after all.

   Most injuries that occur in sport, even for spectators, could not be prevented without seriously altering the way the game is played.  You can't surround an entire baseball stadium in protective glass to avoid errant foul balls.  Teams just have to make sure that the fans are aware of the situation and hope they keep aware.  Loose balls are a necessary part of the game.  

   After an injury at a minor league baseball game in Rancho Cucamonga (one of my favorite cities to pronounce out loud), a California court had to consider a new variation on spectator litigation:

   Are mascots a necessary part of the game?

  

"Tremor" seen here before devouring 5 hot dogs, 7 beers, a box of Cracker Jacks, and 2 players yet to be named.

   The Rancho Cucamonga (cannot say that name too many times in a day) mascot, Tremor, was scuttling about entertaining fans when a foul ball flew into his section of the seats.  As it so happened, the very same fan he had been distracting from behind with his tail was standing directly in the path of the ball.  Bonk ensued.

   If mascots are necessary to the course of a baseball game, then the injury would be an inherent risk (no liability).  Said the court, "foul balls represent an inherent risk to spectators attending baseball games...Can the same thing be said about the antics of the mascot? We think not."*

  Wonder how they'd feel about the sausage race...

  *Lowe v. California League of Professional Baseball

Cleaning with Gasoline

爆発ネズミ

(click to enlarge)

Easements

地役権

   Today in property class we discussed easements. Basically, an easement is what happens when a property owner allows an outside party to use part of the land. This usually occurs when a municipality builds pipes, electric wires, or sidewalks through someone's private land. It also occurs when a property owner allows passage to outsiders through a path or road on the property.

   One of the cases we read on the topic concerned a dispute between neighbors over an easement. Neighbor A required the use of a path on Neighbor B's land to reach the main road. This continued for years without issue until B decided to build a dam on his property. The dam, as dams tend to do, caused water to build up near the path, muddying it to the point where vehicles couldn't pass anymore.

   Introducing the case, the professor quipped, "He couldn't drive his Chevy to the levee until the levee was dry."

   A brief ovation followed.

The Soul of Wit

起きたらまだ恐竜がいた。

　　A Latin American literature course once introduced me to the imaginary wonders flash fiction could induce with Augosto Monterroso's tale, "Upon awakening, the dinosaur was still there." (Cuando despertó, el dinosaurio todavía estaba allí).

    That's not the title. That's the entire story. Readers are free to imagine the rest of the scenario by themselves, and, hoo boy is it fun. Time travel? Flintstones? Genetic engineering revival of extinct species à la Jurassic Park? Who would wake up next to a dinosaur? Seriously, who? Not only that, the response from the central figure isn't surprise or fear but merely, "oh, still here, eh?" So much to think about.

   American literature has a famous, albeit decidedly more tragic, take on flash fiction often erroneously attributed to Hemingway, "For sale: baby shoes, never worn". 6 words that tell a great deal.

   Why talk of flash fiction? Well, today in my torts class I came across a line that sounded like a great flash fiction piece. The text is taken from a description of a case that I will not discuss here. Let your imagination fill in the gaps.


   "When the attendant turned on the electricity to start the ride, the mental patients began to converge on the plaintiff."*




*Text taken from Mark F. Grady's discussion of the case of Satcher v. James H. Drew Shows, Inc. in his casebook on torts.