The usual meeting, with the usual minds. Crowded into half the normal space.

With one extra person. Who started his career with the outfit here. And now comes back to what many consider the dream job in the dream location.

Complete with a beard, grey in color. And a wife, and a couple half-grown kids.

Time flies.

And yet, he said he still felt like the new kid in the room.

The fellow whose job he has taken moved on to new challenges, and stopped in just to give us all an update on his program. And, in his own words, "caught shit" from everybody in the room.

Nothing like gambling everything, including your home, on a new job just to have a federal judge decide less than a week later that most of the duties and responsibilities you were going to take on...

Ain't gonna happen.

He and the others in his position are literally looking for things to do to keep busy, and justify their salaries, which will continue none the less. But under law cannot step in to help any of us with our tasks.

Weird, huh?

Best case scenario has this going on for months.

Most realistic prognostications are betting on three to four years.

Crew scattered for lunch, our trucks heading to the Chinese buffet. Those that opted for the more trendy Gannett were approached by what was described as a "hot" young woman.

"You guys are like rock stars now, aren't you?" she asked, looking at the uniforms.

Apparently a Joe Pickett fan.

Egos were flaring on that side of the table all afternoon.

Amidst all the planned schedules for this Fall, the boss mentioned we should probably also make time for a practice session with the tranquilizing rifles for "all you guys using drugs."

His words, not ours.