Love, Law, & Lake Tahoe An Open Letter by Dr. Daniel     Folks at home, I come before you today a hesitant and penitent man. I owe each and every one of you a hearty apology, because I have been M.I.A. as of late. It is my fault and mine alone, and you deserved better. And, I owe you all an explanation.      See, a few weeks back, I went out of town to a medical conference in Lake Tahoe, Nevada. Always trying to be on the cutting edge of medicine, I felt it my duty to attend the American Association of General Practitioner's Conference on Emergency Treatment of Foot and Ankle Injuries. The Board of Directors of the AAGP promised the latest technology on splinting and wrapping, the most up-to-date medications for trench foot and ruptured planter's warts, and the latest therapies for the dreaded toe fungus. I know my patients, and I know their needs, so, without a moment's hesitation, I packed my bags and headed off to learn how I might better serve my patients' needs.      Oh, and, did y'all know there were casinos all over Lake Tahoe? I had no idea, but it was a pleasant surprise upon my arrival. And, lucky me, there were ATM's all over town as well, so I felt that I owed it to myself to relax a bit, so that I might be more prepared mentally to serve my patients. Therefore, with a couple of grand in my pocket, I went into the conference feeling rather lucky.      Then, I met her. I was sitting at a nice felt-covered table, sipping on an ice-cold Bacardi and OJ, smoking the finest cigar you can get with a wooden tip, and hoping against hope that the dealer's hold card wasn't an ace, when she appeared. Our eyes met, her hand reached out and brushed mine. Her eyes widened, as if in surprise. Her luscious lips parted, and, breathlessly, she whispered, "Cigar? Cigarettes?" Oh, the vixen knew the words to make my heart melt. It was a plan she'd obviously been working on all night, and she executed it perfectly.      One thing led to another, gentle readers. I am admittedly a man weak of spirit when it comes to beautiful ladies. And Chemise Boudreaux was one of the all-time contenders, lemme tell you. Before I knew what was happening, a man I still believe was Wayne Newton said, "Doctor, you may kiss the bride."      It didn't take long to realize the mistake I'd made. Chemise was no doubt pretty, but all she said was, "Cigar. Cigarettes." The rest of the time she read The Star and charged my card with long-distance calls to Dionne Warwick's Band of Thieves. So, once the horror settled in, I pried the phone from her, and launched a call to my own personal advisor, J. Burton Puckett, esq. Here's the essence of my desperate voice mail message: "Get your seersucker-suit-wearin' tail on a plane to Tahoe and get me out of this mess." But he was tied into a highstakes lawsuit in Carver Point, concerning the rightful custody of a Vietnamese potbellied pig, the property of a certain funeral home director/used car dealer in town. Seems his ex-wife had spent more time with said porcine over the last ten years of marriage than had said funeral home director/used-car dealer. She was also pretty ticked off about said director/dealer spending a lot of time in the backseat of a '93 Caddy with a certain waitress from the Carver Point Diner. Needless to say, J. Burton would be tied up for a while. He told me to sit tight and try to reason with the latest Mrs. Doctor V.B. Daniel, and he'd be there when he could.      So, I was stuck in Lake Tahoe, hiding from my new bride and her huge daddy, one Bobby Joe "Cool Papa" Boudreaux. I bolted myself into Room 413 of the Mountainglow Resort and Convention Center, armed only with Spectrevision and room service. I did manage to sneak a few scribblings down to the fax machine via a nice housekeeper named Doreen, but she got moved to another floor and I got stuck with a nice lady named Babahrindi who apparently spoke the same language Stands with a Fist taught Dances With Wolves. Cool Papa Boudreaux sat in that lobby for two weeks, staring at the elevators and picking at the 24-hour buffet. Finally, when he realized I had will of steel, he gave up and left word that his daughter Chemise would be glad to grant my request for an annulment for a small sum of money and a simple token of appreciation.      So, when J. Burton got to town, I got him to go pick her up a new Cutlass Supreme SL and give her a check for $7200 and we got the hay-ull out of Dodge. When we were safely on the plane, and after J. Burton had calmed down and quit lecturing me on the evils of women in casinos, I filled him in on my month. We parted ways over a shared bottle of Jack and I headed straight for the dodecaplex to decompress. Here's the double-feature I saw and my ten cents of thinking: Gattaca -- Pretty good idea, slickly done. Ethan Hawke proved once again that he's the human equivalent of a talking cereal box. Uma was OK; Alan Arkin was better. Cloning the perfect human. Wasn't that what the 1980's were all about, especially the Republicans? Devil's Advocate -- If Ethan Hawke is the box, then Keanu Reeves is the corn flakes. Thankfully, Pacino's performance as the lawyer from Hell saves the day. Lawyer succumbs to evil and fights back. Think The Firm with a definitive bad guy. Pacino's in the running for an O-nod. Short and to the point, but so be it. I've got a heckuva lot of catching up to do.      Folks, what can I say? I'm a fool for love. And like all those who came before, Chemise got a nice little pretty out of it, and I wrote the checks. I won't even talk about the hotel bill. On the other side, I did make $9200 at the craps table while I was waiting for J. Burton to get back from the Chevy dealership, so everything turned out hunky, I guess.      J. Burton has forbidden me to go to another medical conference in Nevada, Mississippi, any Indian Reservation, or anywhere else that has alcohol, gambling, and females of the species all in the same room. He also billed me triple for the travel, the ninny. I can't wait for his next physical. That hernia exam will more than make up for that bill. Hee hee.... Get reel soon, Dr. V. B. "Doc" Daniel