One of the things that can go deeply and embarrassingly wrong in the lives of hotshot Wall Street lawyer is underestimating small town talent. And getting smacked in court.

I was reminded of that truth yesterday morning when I went to a tiny local spin class. I have been spinning for years, been to dozens of fancy clubs, blah blah blah. The gym up here is small and there are only a dozen bikes. (compared to 50 in New York). But all twelve bikes were filled and for the best possible reasons: the leader was absolutely terrific and the class drew heavily on a very serious local bike group. They burried me. In shame and sweat. These people were heavy. And intense. When it was over, they lurched into 15 minutes of non-stop, ab exercises on mats. Terrifying. And, by the way, a lot of them hung around for the second hour. I am not in a position to report on that segment; I was not there.