DelaWHERE? Revisited.

Once upon a summer, I posted the following blog entry regarding patent troll lawsuits and the great state of Delaware.  Side note:  one of my father’s sisters lived in Delaware and when we were little and would go to visit her, she would always poke fun of her state.  Her favorite phrase to repeat was what someone said to her one time when she gave her address: “Dela-where?”  Always did think that was hilarious!  Love wordplay.

Anyway, here’s what I wrote:


Delawhere?  Delaware, that’s where
<pubDate>Thu, 14 Jul 2011 11:33:21 +0000</pubDate>

Asked to sum up venue/jurisdiction in the Patent Troll wars, many could do it in four letters:  EDTX.  The Eastern District of Texas has long been a hotbed of activity for patent troll suits because it’s easy for Southerners to be bought off the judges are favorable to plaintiffs in these suits.  The latests statistics that I’ve seen show almost a third of all suits brought in that venue.  Quite the winning percentage!

However, tracking the lawsuits, as we are wont to do here, a small but noticeable trend is emerging.  Delaware has less than 15% of the venue market right now, but the East Coast is picking up steam and I think that will continue.  

Firstly, for the obvious reason: lots of companies incorporate there.  

Secondly, the targets of lawsuits are starting to argue more strenuously that “Hey!  Why are you suing me in Texas??” and asking the courts to move cases where they belong, which one would assume would be in the state of incorporation of either the plaintiff or the majority of the defendants.  This is intellectual property we’re talking about here…it’s not as if you can bring suit in every single venue where infringement occurred.  You’ve got to pick one; the state of incorporation of the patent-holder or alleged infringer is a logical choice.  

Third, check out the Delaware IP blog if it’s not already on your morning reading list as it is, of course, on mine.  Without even a deep dive, there are several article on the front page with the words “Motion Denied“…looks like The Law doesn’t want these cases moving.  Fourth, T. John Ward is retiring.  Chief Justice Scalia called him a “renegade jurisdiction” because of his unwillingness to grant transfer of venue.  Not unreasonable to assume there will be some changes to how things are run down south of the Mason-Dixon line.

Someone needs to start publishing statistics on venues and put up charts and graphs showing how those venues are starting to change.   Mostly so that when I’m right, everyone will be able to see it in living color.

Just sayin’,



But today, thanks to Twitter and the fact that I follow the guy who semi-Dooced me (and because he did that I’m not going to link to him, which can be directly translated to “Steph Has A Good Memory”), I read this article where OH! NOES!, a judge has argued exactly the opposite point:

State of Incorporation: Second, the appellate court held that heavy reliance on state of incorporation is inappropriate.

Neither § 1404 nor Jumara [the leading 3rd Circuit 1404 case] list a party’s state of incorporation as a factor for a venue inquiry. It is certainly not a dispositive fact in the venue transfer analysis, as the district court in this case seemed to believe.

Color me embarrassed.

The title of quoted article is, in fact, “Federal Circuit Holds Defendant’s State of Incorporation (Delaware) Improper Venue”.  So not only does the ruling say “Dude, who cares where you’re incorporated?  It has got nothing to do with venue.”, they added insult to injury by putting Delaware in parenthesis.  Just to drive home the point that I WAS WRONG, SO WRONG.  I love the last line of my entry, which I will repeat here because boy, does it make me look stupid:

Mostly so that when I’m right, everyone will be able to see it in living color.


Look, you can’t win them all, right?  Right.




Welcome, December (Daily)!

And just like that, it’s the last month of the year.  Got back on the saddle, or the treadmill, as it were, again today after completing the Turkey Dash a week ago…made it in record time (for me)!  But alas, my idiot shin splint is still rearing it’s ugly head so I am once again forced to run the Beginner Treadmill Workout.

Oh, the humanity.

But run it I did, and went three miles.  Nike has this thing where people can set up challenges and Cathy Zielske set one up to run 50 miles in December.  So I’m going to run 50 47 miles by New Year’s Eve, if it kills me.  I love a challenge!  Like not being a hoarder and not having to learn how to drive a new car (done and done).

Also going on this month, because it’s not busy enough in its own right, is December Daily.  Note the banner off to the right.  It’s a daily scrapbooking…thing?  Project?  Not sure what to call it but it’s awesome.  I did it last year for the first time, and boy did I pick a doozy of a year.

Patrick had the second of his two knee replacements, and I’m sure if he had a third knee it would have needed replacing too, that’s just how he rolls, done on Dec 21st.  He’d had the other knee done on Sept 21 so we are pretty much besties with the 18th floor orthopedic nurses at St. Luke’s in the Medical Center at this point.  The whole season was a blur of getting him to post-op appointments for the first surgery and pre-op appointments for the second surgery and then the school Christmas performances and the annual Kids Crazy Christmas Show at church and it was just nuts.  But doing the daily layouts and keeping up with at least one story a day throughout the season proved to be just the thing we all needed to keep ourselves together.  The kids still pull that album out probably more than any other I’ve done.

So naturally, I’m doing it again this year and today’s December 1st so it all starts RIGHT NOW!  I’ve got a few stories to tell already, and it’s only 1:00 CST.  What the rest of the day will bring is anyone’s guess.  LOL!

The banner links to my project so far, and I’m going to add in the pages as I get around to photographing and uploading them.  Sometimes it’s all I can do to actually live the moment and scrapbook it so I have little hope that the link will be updated before, say, January.  LOL

Patent Blurb

As I warned in the Meet and Greet, at times I will be wont to comment on Things In The Patent Troll space.  Today’s your lucky day!  So in this article on Techdirt, Masnick asserts that patent trolls are going to shift from Tech companies to media companies.  Maybe so, but I still would argue that the pharmaceutical industry is going to be their next first target.  And while Masnick didn’t come to that specific conclusion, I think he’s right that the trolls will find the backlash unsettling in the (social) media industry.  The pharma companies are too busy sending their sales reps to lavish parties and charging outrageous amounts for their drugs to see this coming.  Full thoughts on that coming up…not sure when.  I hate when bloggers say “I’ll post an update on Friday!” and then Friday is here and Friday is gone and oopsie, no post.  Here at Candid Canon, I’m going to shoot straight with you:  I HAVE NO CLUE WHEN I’LL GET TO IT.  <– Authenticity.  I haz it.

So anyway, Happy December!  Time to go make some memories, if not for your scrapbook, then for yourself!





Like Flying the Space Shuttle, Only Harder

I’m going to change my name to “Anyone”, on account of that age-old adage “It could happen to anyone.”  Yeah?  Then how come I’M ALWAYS THAT ANYONE?

It’s not a rhetorical question, I expect an answer by noon tomorrow.

Happen to me it did, my car broke down.  I know why…not three weeks ago I was bragging to some friends about how my car broke down and left me stranded for the first time ever since time began ever and it is a ten year old car with well over 100,000 miles on it and look how cool I am, all driving a car that doesn’t break down and everything. I ROCK.  Only that totally jinxed me because in a matter of six hours, not only did my car completely break down, my husband’s did too.  And is that a funny story…

He had a late meeting for work and had just called me to say he was almost home.  At that exact time, I had been reaching for the phone to call him to tell him that there was a strange pickup truck turning into our driveway and OMG, now a man is getting out of the car!  He’s heading toward’s the house!  He looks just like you!!  Do you have a twin I don’t know about, because if so I have some friends that I really do need to set up…

Of course it was him.  His car had died too, leaving us on the phone with Enterprise (“Hello, Enterprise? I need to rent a car…”) begging for whatever they could get to us as quickly as they could get it.  Do you know what they gave me?  It starts with ‘mini’ and ends with ‘van’.

Gag me with a fork.

Because I know you’ve read my Empty Bucket List, you know that #7 precludes me from owning such a beast.  It does not, however, preclude me from driving one in the extreme circumstances in which I happen to have found myself.

I don’t understand new technology, obviously.  This idiot Dodge Grand Caravan does.not.shut.up.  It beeps at you and clicks and honks and waves and somewhere lurking below the racing-style steering wheel (hello?  in a minivan??) is a button that I’m sure would cause my laundry to pop out of the trunk, all folded and sorted.  In short?


It took me ten minutes to find the stupid PRNDL, which is up on the dashboard instead of down on the floorboard between the two front seats where it belongs.  It looked like a joystick from 1983.  I decided after another ten minutes that I would just drive with the windshield wipers on, in utter humiliation on a beautifully sunny day, rather than waste any more time trying to figure out how to turn them off.  I’m sure I turned them on accidentally trying to contort my way into the thing…I am an SUV woman all the way, baby.  If you’ve got less than 18″ vertical clearance I don’t even want to talk to you, much less ride in you.  This thing rides so low I checked my butt for flames of friction every time I got out.

And woe unto you if you don’t put on your seat belt the very instant said flaming buttocks hit the seat, for you will be beeped at incessantly until you comply.  Big Brother, anyone?  I am 41 years old, I don’t need my car policing my seatbelt wearing habits, thankyouverylittle.

The boys, of course, loved it.  Michael was all over the growl of the engine.  So let’s stop there…a minivan engine needs to growl?  Who do they think is driving these things, Mario Andretti?  I’ll tell you who drives them…suburban women.  They don’t need their car to growl, they need it to warn them when the light is green so they can get off their phone/put the mascara down/stop reading and hit the gas.  Growling engine?  Not so much.

I have never been so happy in my life to have my 2002 Nissan XTerra back.  I love that car.  I love that it has tic-tac-toe etched in the back left quarter panel, courtesy of a younger John and Michael.  I love that the bumpers are faded as a result of a problem with the plastic that year, and I can tell instantly when there’s another of my model year around because of that.  I love that it sits really high so I can see over the other cars and figure out what the delay in traffic is.  I {heart} my car.

Thanks to Cinco Car Care, I have it back.  They fixed Patrick’s too, so we are finally back in business.  I’ve been an errand running fool all day long, and even picked up the first Christmas present of the season.




Cooking Disasters with Steph: How Bad Will This Be?

{reposted verbatim from my parenting board}



I am responsible for the green bean casserole this year. My Mom calls me yesterday and says to double the recipe, more people are coming. No big whoop. Except, I have but one can of cream of mushroom soup.

Hello, Kroger. Didn’t we just leave this party?

I buy another can, plus more french fried onions and canned green beans. This is making stuff from scratch for me, people. Only I buy the cream of mushroom soup with roasted garlic. With Roasted Garlic, of course, being the key phrase.

So I have two batches in the same dish mixed together, one with the right soup and one with the garlic soup. How bad will it be? I hate green beans no matter what you do to them so I will not be partaking, but for those who will…is garlic a bad thing in this situation?

Keep in mind, what I’m looking for (since it’s already in the oven) is “SURE, it’ll be great!”

Help me.




The Empty Bucket List

Everyone has been talking for a while now about their Bucket List and what they want to do before they die.  A movie with the same title evidently spurred this little bout of self-reflection?

Never one to follow trends, mostly because I would look completely ridiculous in skinny jeans since the only part of me that could be classified as skinny is my fingers and you can’t wear jeans on your hands, I have decided to create The Empty Bucket List:  Things I Have No Intention of Doing in This Lifetime.

To wit:

  1. Climb Mt. Everest.  I have the utmost respect for hard-core climbers and sherpas and yaks who can carry triple their weight using 1/3 the oxygen that I require just to move from my iMac to the refrigerator, but it’s totally not for me.
  2. Swim with dolphins.  You know why?  Being underwater is very disconcerting for me.  I am a good swimmer and can hold my own, but being out in the ocean where stuff can come at you from any angle freaks me out.  On land, I know that pretty much if something’s after me it will be in front of me, behind me, beside me, or above me.  Stuff doesn’t come at you from below.   IN THE OCEAN IT CAN, and that right there  is my tipping point.  So, no deep sea diving and consorting with finned animals for me.
  3. Try sushi.  Why?  Raw fish wrapped in seaweed.  There is nothing appealing to me about either of those things.
  4. Get a law degree.  I’ve been told I can argue with the best of them but having worked with lawyers for ten years, I have to say nothankyouverymuch to that one.  It would be awesome to be able to say, a la Harvey Levin, “I’m a law-yuh!” but it’s not in the cards for me.
  5. Go to Mardi Gras.  I have no religious affiliation with the celebration (read: I am not Catholic) and also?  I like drunks to be way far away from me if I’m out walking on a street late at night.  Beads don’t do it for me either.  Strike three, that’s out.
  6. Refuse to let my children eat sugared cereal.  My house, my rules.  Mother.
  7. Own a minivan.  You can talk to me all day long about how convenient those sliding doors are, how much room there is, how comfortable all the kids will be, how they can be reconfigured to seat the entire marching band comfortably, but you will be wasting your time.  I can sum up what is wrong with those vehicles in one word:  Minivan.
  8. Skydive.  Not for the reason you think…it’s more to do with the “stuff coming at you from any angle” issue I have.  Cannot hang with that feeling, I need for my feet to be on the ground.
  9. Spend more than $200 on a purse.  The bag I carry now is the one my younger son bought for me two Christmases ago, because my husband talked him out of the doorknob he’d picked out.  It’s black and the inside is bright pink and it came from Target and I love it.
  10. Lose the last ten pounds.  Obviously.

So there you have it, The Empty Bucket List.  I can’t wait to not get started on it!!



The Douche Bagette and What Season Are We In Again?

This morning was an anomaly.  I needed to get Michael to school by 7:30 so that I could go back the other direction and get John to the orthodontist by 8:15, and stop back by the house in between for John to brush his teeth first.  I hear you, he should have brushed before we left the house but if you have an almost 11-yr old boy you realize why that didn’t happen.  Because it would have made sense.

So we are at an intersection having sat through a couple of red lights which was not unexpected.  But what WAS unexpected was the car in front of me that stopped at a green light.  GREEN.  As in, the color that means “Go!”  I’d just refereed the millionth skirmish of the day, trying to decide between Smash Mouth’s “All Star” and Vanilla Ice’s “Ice Ice Baby”.  You know what?  When I was little you got the radio or silence.  That was it.  Thanks to Apple we have the iPod and now kids have 2900 and counting different songs they can ask to listen to any time (read: every.single.time) we are in the car.  We could be driving from the garage to the community mailbox and I will hear “CAN WE LISTEN TO MUSIC??” Presumably because they will all die from a 10 second lack of entertainment.

I lost my point…oh wait, here it is:

I was all “…quick to the point to the point no fakin'” when I hit the  brakes to avoid crashing into the car that was stopped at the green light.  Not a terribly patient person when confronted with obvious stupidity, I honked my horn.  Two Four times.  And the guy is still sitting there and I’m like “It’s the peddle on the right!  Push it and you’ll go!” and “You waiting on an engraved invitation, pal?” and by the time I was halfway through “Did you get your driver’s license at Sears?” I saw it.  The police car coming from the left trying to go through the intersection and the reason the car in front of me was stopped.

Ergo: me = douche bagette

Changing gears, I walked outside this weekend and what to my wondering eyes should appear, but this:

Stephanie Kennedy, Candid Canon, hibiscus, photography

Silly hibiscus, blooms are for Summer

I keep hearing about a cool front on its way, but I don’t think I believe it.  From where I sit, it might as well be July!  =)



Semper Paratus

For the non-Coasties out there, and for those who don’t speak Latin (Dan Quayle, this means you), that’s “Always Ready”.  US Coast Guard motto, at your service.  Military service has always been important to me, mostly because my family is rife with it.  My Mom’s father was a navigator on Navy flights over Dresden in WWII.  My Great Uncle was on Iwo Jima…he was missing part of his left ring finger and it was always the subject of controversy growing up.  How did he lose it?

The line he always fed us was this: “I will tell you, but you can only ask me one question about it, and you have to promise never to ask me again.”

We all agreed, and his answer was always the same (clearly we didn’t keep our promise): “It was bitten off.”

That left SO much to the imagination…by whom?  When?  Did they chew it up and swallow it, or spit it out? TELL US MORE.  Yet he refused.  The likeliest story is that it was shot off in the war that he never talked about.  Back then, men didn’t discuss what they saw.  They did their job and came home.

Later, a different generation did the same thing…my Great Uncle’s son flew supply planes for the first Gulf War in the early 1990’s.  I can remember that his wife would sleep at his parent’s house when he was deployed, she just felt safer there than home alone with her two little girls.

My own father was in the Army ROTC and went on to serve five years of active duty, 18 months of it in Seoul, South Korea.  He came back and was a weekend warrior on reserve duty for the entirety of my childhood.  He finally retired a Lt. Colonel in I think it was the late 1990’s.  I still have vivid memories of checking the calendar to see if this was the third weekend of the month, because if it was we were left with just ourselves and Mother so that meant lots of Uno and Scrabble and her telling us to quit trying to kill one another.  Some things never change.

My husband is a veteran of the US Coast Guard.  He was front and center when the original Drug Wars began with Mexico.  He was injured in the line of duty and is a Disabled Veteran now.  It’s funny…before we met, I didn’t think much about what the Coast Guard did.  You think they go out and rescue people who fall off of boats in a drunken stupor, or rescue coeds off of South Padre when they cram too many Spring Breakers onto a party barge.  But the truth is, they have elite forces like all the other branches of the military and those who serve there are placed in danger daily.

The interesting thing is, they don’t see it that way.  There’s a call to duty, a desire to be a part of something bigger than themselves that lies behind every veteran I have ever met.  It’s something I can understand, but not fully because I’ve never done anything like that before.  I would probably be all “Look, you MORON, that’s why the sign says ‘MAXIMUM LOAD: 15’ on it.  What?  You thought your group of 25 drunken friends could challenge the laws that govern what makes a boat float?  Then begone with ye…swim to shore on your own!”  Strangely, the Coast Guard frowns upon that sort of response which is why my husband was much better suited to serve than I would have been.

So anyway, to he and all the other veterans out there who have served in any capacity, in any branch, I would like to offer you a few words:

Thank you.