The expediter expedited.  The impossible happened (and really quickly), and I am now on the Costa del Sol.  After putting the traumatic travel events behind me, I just wanted to let it be known that we are alive and kicking.  Tired, but kicking.  Cafe con leche helps.  Cerveza tambien.  Don’t even ask what it took to get from Malaga airport to the hotel in Almeria.

Only important news is that Supremes have sent Troy Davis back to the District Court for an evidentiary hearing.  He’s not dead yet, and maybe there’s still some life in actual innocence as well. 

I’ve read the comments left in the interim.  Some are great.  Some aren’t.  I leave them to you to figure it out.  For those inclined to be jerks, try your best not to.  Please.

Biggest question:  Why have we heard nothing from Dan Solove?  Maybe some of the other blawgers in the practical blawgosphere might be interested in why the lawprofs aren’t talking to them?

Second biggest question:  How many people at the Harris County Criminal Justice Center will smile at Andy Nolen, the scoundrel, when he walks down the hallway?

Hasta luego.

Update:  Met the former police commissioner of Andalucia, who just happens to be a fencing master training the Spanish national team.  He asked what I did for a living, via translator, and I explained I was a criminal defense lawyer.  He then responded, through the translator, that he knew I was a policeman the moment he saw me, and he’s going to take special care of my son.  Something was lost in translation, but I can live with that.

He asked me where I was from and I said Nueva York.  He said, “Guiliani?” and we both pretended to spit at the same time.  I guess Guiliani doesn’t translate well either.