Chief Justice William Rehnquist died yesterday. I have a very particular memory of Rehnquist, a man I know almost nothing about. He went to Shorewood High School in Shorewood, Wisconsin, a neighborhood north of Milwaukee, not far from where I grew up. Shorewood High has a nice, olympic-sized indoor pool and I'd always have swim meets there, and I remember walking into that old cement school building, and just before you entered the pool area there were two things above the door that always caught your eye: one was a plaque saying that Rehnquist had gone to school there, and the other was a giant gold papier-mache face that was either a prop or a set piece from the school's production, sometime in the past, of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. I also remember that at one of these Shorewood meets some kid's suit fell off right when he dove in. He was doing the butterfly, so we all sat in the stands and laughed at his naked ass bobbing up and down as he swam, and we joked that it was a good thing he wasn't doing the backstroke. So any time I hear about Rehnquist, or the Supreme Court in general, I have these flashbacks of swim meets and some kid's butt, and that huge, papier-mache face.