I have hope. Is that misplaced?

Sometimes this blog receives comments which deserve space to breathe.  This one is from an old friend of mine: Pascal Piazza and I met on the first day of the 9th grade, at our alphabetically-assigned lockers in the hall of the 300 building of Houston’s George W. Strake Memorial Jesuit College Preparatory for Young Christian Gentlemen (which, of course, we were).  Since then he became a respected lawyer, and has been admitted to practice in all Texas courts including the state’s supreme court, the Supreme Court of the United States and the U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals for the Fifth Circuit, and enough federal district courts and bankruptcy courts in this part of the world to make your eyes bug out.  He’s been generally and repeatedly frustrated by some actions and inactions of the Supremes in recent cases (you’ll recognize which ones), and finally took it out on his keyboard.  PR

To the Honorable Justices of the Supreme Court of the United States:

As a citizen, a retired attorney of 40 years, and a native Texan, I adopt the personal privilege to comment, in a colloquial manner, on two potentially very divisive issues which, when resolved by the application of the plain text of the Joint Resolution Annexing the State of Texas and the 14th Amendment to the Constitution of the United States, respectively, need not be divisive and will restore the rule of law.  Both issues are easy to decide.  The parties may try to complicate them, but y’all can follow the easy, established, and time-honored path.

It’s About the Joint Resolution Annexing the State of Texas.

You will be asked by attorneys acting for the Governor of Texas to allow Texas to implement certain means (e.g., installing razor wire or deploying roving private militias) to try to prevent undocumented persons from crossing into Texas through its southern border of the Rio Grande, and further to prevent the U.S. from entering land along that border or to interfere with or remove the mitigating means, solely on the grounds of Texas’s perceived “right of public defense.”  Curiously, y’all will be asked to rule on this issue by the same Texas officials who’ve already suggested they don’t have to comply with any of your rulings that they do not like, because they elevate their perception of the sovereignty of Texas over all else.  There is, however, no need for the issue of Texas’s perceived right of public defense to escalate into accelerating tensions, to revive the nullification doctrine, or to precipitate something worse.  Instead, y’all sit at the forefront to show that Texas, like all states and persons, has the right to redress in the courts under the rule of law, and to remind the state that Texans are known for living up to their word of honor regardless of party affiliation or political persuasion.  Y’all have an easy task before you; only you can make it difficult.  Here’s a path to the easy way instead of the hard way.

The U.S. and Texas, by mutual consent, defined the right of public defense back in 1845, at the time the U.S. annexed Texas by means of a joint resolution of the U.S. Congress which was accepted by the Republic of Texas.  That right of public defense was an integral part of the unambiguous text of annexation.  Y’all need only follow that text without gloss.

Joint ResolutionThe text of the Joint Resolution Annexing Texas to the United States provides that Texas cedes to the U.S. “…all public edifices, fortifications, barracks, ports and harbors, navy and navy-yards, docks, magazines, arms, armaments, and all other property and means pertaining to the public defence belonging to said Republic of Texas.” [Emphasis added]  It does not say that Texas cedes “all other property and means pertaining to the public defence” only when Texas agrees with federal policy.  It does not state that Texas can craft its own public defense.  Texas was not given a veto power.  Texas was not given a right to repudiate or breach the plain terms, which vest all property and means pertaining to public defense to the U.S., whether listed or not.  Texas consented to these terms.

Let’s then give these words their plain meaning.  When it comes to providing for the public defense, the U.S. solely may determine whether to install razor wire or take it down, whether to use mobile militias or not, whether to enter the lands along the border or not, where or how to intercept persons crossing the border, whether to administer medical care or not, and whether to implement or pursue particular actions that Texas wants pursued.  You resolve this issue by giving effect to the plain text and thereby ensuring the fully intentional, consented-to, and coordinated sovereignty of Texas and the U.S.

There is no need to look beyond that plain text defining the public defense.  But the plain text of the remainder of the sentence defining the public defense affirms that the exclusive grant to the U.S. was intentional and was an essential part of the unique compromise that secured the required votes for passage of the Joint Resolution for Annexation after the prior Treaty for Annexation never could be ratified by the Senate.  Texas exclusively granted the U.S. the means and property rights for public defense in exchange for Texas keeping its public lands (and what would be multiple millions of dollars in oil and gas royalties) to pay off its debts.  Texas is the only state that was allowed to keep its public lands.  The U.S. gave up ownership of the public lands in Texas.  Those lands would yield multi-millions of dollars in revenue from the oil and gas found there.  Those lands could be sold off generating significant revenues, as was the practice in 19th century America.  President Polk won election over Henry Clay in 1844 based upon his vision of westward expansion into the valuable lands of Texas, which he felt had been squandered by Spain and then Mexico.  The U.S. received the right of public defense in exchange.  That is what is at issue now.

The then-new state of Texas understood the plain meaning.  I understand that the parties to an agreement cannot define meaning by how they perceive the meaning, but the first post-annexation Texas Constitution instructs y’all that Texas understood that the plain terms mean what the plain terms mean.  That constitution confirmed that the sovereignty of Texas over its soil was secure, except for what it ceded in the Joint Resolution for Annexation or otherwise in the U.S. Constitution.  It knew that the property and means of public defense, by consent, vested in the U.S.

Therefore, under the text of the Joint Resolution for Annexation, Texas occupies a unique position.  It should now – as all true Texans do – stand on its word, even if it is a handshake deal.  Of course, there is much more here than just a handshake.

Y’all will hear that Texas has some natural or inherent right of public defense.  Regardless of whether such a right does or does not exist, Texas ceded it to the U.S. when the state was annexed in 1845.

Y’all may then ask whether Article I, Section 10, clause 3 of the U.S. Constitution grants Texas some right of public defense in case it is ever invaded, whether the U.S. consents at the time or not.  Well, under Texas’s unique position, the text of the Joint Resolution for Annexation still is the starting point.  In addition, the text of Article I, Section 10, clause 3 does not mention public defense, does not mention any of the means that Texas wants to implement or adopt, does not provide that Texas can exclude the U.S. from areas occupied by Texas, does not provide that Texas can interfere with the conduct of the U.S., and does not permit Texas to breach the compromise (which a true Texan would never do).  Texas appears before y’all bound by its agreement and by the consent of Texas and the U.S. as to how the public defense plays out.  Today, Texas assumes that this is a situation where there is no consent by the U.S., yet Texas and the U.S. consented in 1845 for the U.S. to have exclusive power over public defense, whether there is an invasion or not.  Texas cannot repudiate that consent to try to go back on its word.

Some have even suggested that Texas would never have entered the Union had it known, or could have foreseen, that it did not preserve a right of public defense or could not use all land and other means for public defense.  Well, that’s what Texas did – in writing.  In Texas, we stand on our word.

It’s About the Eligibility Requirements in the U.S. Constitution

Let’s start by applying the text of the 14th Amendment as written.  Do not apply some theory of construction.  Do not apply fears of political reprisals.  Do not adopt a result and then read the words to yield your desired result.  It does not make a difference who may be ruled eligible or ineligible.  If the issue were the age of the candidate in question, you would consider only the text; y’all would not consider who the candidate is or whether your ruling would upset or even enrage the masses.

This led me to read opinions offered by distinguished retired federal judges covering the entire political spectrum based upon the text of the 14th Amendment.  How is it that these numerous distinguished federal district court judges have followed the text and find that the 14th Amendment does apply to determine eligibility?  The answer is that they followed the plain text.  Your questions to the parties during oral arguments last week indicate y’all may not agree with those opinions; I hope that your questions were meant to test the attorneys, and do not reflect your belief of what the plain text actually means.

Some advocates will claim that the president, whose position is defined in the U.S. Constitution, is not an “officer.”  However, the U.S. Constitution, at Article II, Section 1, states that the executive powers shall be vested in the president who holds his office over a four-year term.  The dictionary defines an officer as one who holds an office.  Therefore, the president is an officer as he holds the office of the president.  Yet, some of your questions indicated that you may have a problem accepting this syllogism.  Hopefully, you exercised your right during questioning during oral argument to test ideas rather than reveal your own conclusions.  The text of the 14th Amendment covers a person seeking to be “… a Senator or Representative in Congress, or an elector of President and Vice President, or hold any office, civil or military, under the United States.”  [Emphasis added]  The text, therefore, covers one who seeks to hold a federal office which, constitutionally, includes someone wanting to be the president.  This wording in the 14th Amendment does not amend the other Constitutional text that defines the president as the holder of an office (i.e., an officer).

Y’all selectively like to cite portions of the Federalist Papers or other outside writings of the Framers to try to change the otherwise unambiguous meaning of the text of the Constitution.  Please stick to the text when it is unambiguous, as in the case of the 14th Amendment, so that the inquiry ends there.  The other words of the Framers are interesting historically and allow us now to assess how brilliant they were, but those words do not comprise the text of the U.S. Constitution.  It is the text of the Constitution that matters, not what any Framer may have wanted to include in the text but failed to win approval for.  Y’all cannot import into the text of the Constitution any words which the Framers failed to include.

Public policy cannot be the tail that wags the jurisprudential dog.  If you want to make policy, then run for office.  Otherwise, honor your oath.  Your failure to honor your oath will cause more dissension and disruption to this country than following the text.  I was taught on the first day of my Constitutional Law class that y’all like to make public policy.  Just because y’all have done it before does not justify doing it anymore.

Some advocates have asked questions about states trying to impose requirements on the federal election.  Colorado and Maine are simply applying the eligibility requirements as they already exist in the U.S. Constitution.  They could do it, and have done it, regarding the minimum age to be the president.  I again hope you were just asking questions during oral argument and not revealing your conclusions when there was a perceived concern for the states trying to impose state requirements on a federal election.

A majority of the Justices currently claim that unstated rights and conditions may not be imported into the text.  So, where is the textual basis to claim that the 14th Amendment’s eligibility threshold requires Congressional action?  One opinion by one U.S. Supreme Court justice sitting as a circuit judge does not make a consensus or anything but one opinion.

The same majority of Justices also currently claim that the text of the U.S. Constitution, including the 14th Amendment, must be construed based upon the meaning of words in 1787 and 1868, respectively.  If so, the consensus of distinguished historians is that the 14th Amendment does apply as Colorado and Maine have held.  Y’all can’t ask to consult history but then reject the consensus of historians.  Y’all still should just stick to the unambiguous text.

Some advocates feign the downfall of judicial process through a fear of a multiplicity of state-based lawsuits if states seek to apply the text of the 14th Amendment.  So, does this mean that states should not seek to enforce the text of the U.S. Constitution when it applies to the duties of the states?  Could not the states seek to enforce the minimum age eligibility requirement?  When did filing suits seeking to apply the 14th Amendment become a bad thing?  Under this argument, should former Vice President Pence not have certified the last presidential election results because it led to 60 some-odd lawsuits?

Thank you.

–Pascal Paul Piazza

Bubba

I found out this morning that a friend I’ve had since high school died yesterday.

Martin Cattoni was almost five months past his 65th birthday.  He retired about a year and a half ago after figuring out he had enough money to cover him the rest of his life, since the men in his family died relatively young.

He was in good health, it seemed: not fat like some of his friends, and he had discovered a new passion for bicycling…in fact, he had planned a biking trip to Paris later this year.

I’m told he went for a ride yesterday, did something like 40 miles before stopping to do his Pilates, then got back on the bike and rode home.  At home he felt chest pains, so he took himself to the hospital…where they could not save him.  Don’t know any more details yet.

We met in 19740400 Martin George Mike Pat Timhomeroom the day we showed up at high school, two 14-year-olds coming in from different junior highs.  We hit it off, the way some kids do.  Over the years we became better friends as we shared more classes in school and discovered common interests.

(Martin, George, Mike, Pat, Tim)

In music.

In sports.  (Both playing and watching)

In girls.  (Same)

Martin knew lots of girls, and he wasn’t afraid of them like001-stornant-1969-dodge-charger-driving-alt-2.JPG some of the rest of us were.  He introduced me to some really great girls.  We’d become good enough friends that we double-dated to the Senior Prom in his red 1969 Dodge Charger just a couple of months after we’d agreed to be roommates at college.

The day we packed our cars to drive off to Austin and whatever fortune awaited us, my father chauffeured our mothers as they each sent their first child off to college; Martin’s father had died, at age 58, during a family vacation to Paraguay when Martincito was 16.  It seems to me now that it took only a few minutes for us to carry all of our stuff from our cars on the street up to the second floor of the dorm and drop it on the floor; our moms wanted to help us unpack and put things away, an operation that they might have stretched out for hours.  But my dad stepped in: he suggested to them that we didn’t look like we needed any help…and after final hugs and kisses the three parents headed back to Houston and the two of us went looking for trouble.  (Yes we did, and yes, we did.)

We lived together those first three semesters of college: next door to two other friends from high school (Mike and Tim), directly across the hall from the communal bathroom, up the hill from Memorial Stadium and next door to the Texas Tavern, down the street from the dorm where we took meals and the gym where we played intramurals, three blocks from Scholz Garten and not much further than that to The Drag on the other side of campus.  I thought we couldn’t have had a sweeter setup.

My parents wanted me to concentrate on school during freshman year so I didthumbnail_IMG_2215n’t get a job right away, but Martin parlayed his substantial grocery store experience into a gig at a nearby Safeway within a week of us arriving.  He brought home two large plastic glasses that he thought we’d find useful, one in orange and the other in light green.  I still have mine.

Nothing lasts forever: in the middle of sophomore year Martin decided to transfer to school back in Houston.  We kept in touch, but it wasn’t the same.  He carved a new life with new interests and new friends.  We were together for his going away party when he left Houston in 1989 to work for a gas company in the East, on what turned out to be the day I quit my dream job in radio in Houston—we were, each of us, off on truly new, and separate, paths.

I still saw him occasionally when he’d come to Houston to visit his brother and sister.  The last time was this 20130300 Cattoni Ryan Piazzapast January, for a short midday lunch with another couple of our friends.  That’s where he told us about his biking, and told the story about having figured out he’d be OK to retire early, that he wouldn’t outlive his money.  He was right.  Dammit.

(Pascal, Tom, Martin, Pat)

It was a pleasant visit, and when we left we said goodbye in the way we had for years.  Handshake, pulling into a quick hug, and waving goodbye using the names we’d been given by our dormmates more than 45 years ago.

See you later, Bubba…

Don’t bet these guys on golf (you’ll hurt yourself carrying all the money home)

If you want a fresh perspective on things, and to have fun, get some old high school friends together to play golf.  Note: this works to best effect when none of you is a good golfer.

golfers

That’s us—Tim, Pascal, Tom and Pat—on the 18th tee at Wildcat Golf Club’s Lakes Course, just before it rained, during our high school reunion golf outing earlier this month.  The rain was brief but we were already wet from the inside out anyway.  We ended up eight over par, which is distressingly poor in a scramble.  And we had a great time—what would you expect when you spend the day with friends you’ve had for almost 40 years?

I have assiduously avoided high school reunions since number 10, when I went to a Houston Astros game because I’d never been in the Skyboxes at the Astrodome…and as expected, found that a seat at the top of a ten story building is less than ideal for baseball watching if you’re at all interested in the game.  But that’s not why I skipped reunions; I was just never interested.  This time, I kiddingly replied that I’m always up to play golf, and someone called me on it.  Good on them…better for me.

I’ve been friends with these guys, and a couple of others, since we were freshmen in high school, and I never needed a reunion to find out how they were doing.  We don’t all see each other regularly, but it’s the kind of friendship where you can pick up a conversation that was put on hold months and months before.  And so we spent the afternoon, scuffing around the course, amusing one another with pathetic displays of athletic ability and laughing at all the old jokes, and all the old jokers.

It made me feel great to realize that I’ve got these these guys in my life, that we’re still comfortable around each other despite the years.

The four of us went out to eat together afterward because we’re all still growing boys (just not growing vertically any more).  We watched a ball game on TV and drank beer (that was mostly me) and later told the old jokes and talked about what’s new, and learned some things about one other, even after all these years.

After I got home, it got better.  My friend Mark—the guy I play golf with regularly, the guy who joined me to scout Wildcat since none of us had played it before; the guy who gave me his copy of “Golf in the Kingdom”—had wished me “Tempo and Short Grass” in an e-mail that included this:

I sent the Soundtrack of the Day along to my old friends so they could share that part of my day, too.