Sam Farragut is a sociopathic business executive in Southern California who forces a team of advertising agency employees to embark on a dangerous dirtbike trip to the Baja California desert in order to compete for his business . The men are Warren Summerfield , a suicidal middle-aged ad executive who has been fired from the agency ; the straightlaced Paul McIlvain who is inattentive to his wife , and brash art designer Maxon who feels suddenly trapped after his girlfriend announces she is pregnant . There are numerous long sequences of motorcycle riding on desert backroads . Summerfield has been having an affair with McIlvian's wife . He has not told his wife that he was fired and is simply serving out his tenure at the agency while looking for a new position . His wife is actually aware of the affair . Farragut convinces the ad men to make the motorcycle journey on the pretext of looking for a location to shoot a commercial . In reality , Farragut is reckless and looking to involve the men in spontaneous edgy adventure of his own manipulation . After they leave , McIlvain's wife suspects that Summerfield is planning to kill himself for the insurance money , but she can not convince Summerfield's wife to instigate a search . The four men travel deeper into Mexico on isolated dirt roads . At one point Summerfield contemplates plunging off a cliff . After being humiliated by a young American couple in a Baja bar , Farragut tracks them down on the beach while accompanied by Maxon .

Question: "Whose wife is having an affair with Summerfield?"

Response: "Mcllvian's wife"

A: yes

Growing up on a farm near St. Paul, L. Mark Bailey didn't dream of becoming a judge. Even when he graduated from North Decatur High School in 1975, sitting on the bench someday seemed more like a leisurely activity than a career. Somewhere along the line, all of that changed. Bailey received his bachelor's degree from the University of Indianapolis in 1978 and a jurisprudence doctorate from Indiana University-Indianapolis in 1982. After several years of private practice from 1982-90, he became the judge of Decatur County Court for a year. The Indiana legislature renamed that judgeship and Bailey was tabbed Decatur Superior Court judge from 1992-98, winning reelection twice. From there, his career continued on the fast track and Bailey was appointed by Gov. Frank O'Bannon to sit on the Indiana Court of Appeals First District, where he works today. Despite his quick climb up the legal ladder, Bailey has always found time to help out in causes he feels strongly about. It was for his dedication to the law and the people that are affected by it that he was recently recognized. The Indiana Pro Bono Commission hosted its annual celebration event, the Randall T. Shepard Dinner, at French Lick Springs Spa in October. More than 100 judges, lawyers and dignitaries were present for the gathering. One of the highlights of the event was the presentation of the first-ever Randall T. Shepard award for excellence in pro bono work. Bailey received the award for his three years of volunteer work at Indiana Pro Bono Commission. The award was named after the chief justice of the Indiana Supreme Court to honor his statewide vision on justice. The qualifications for the award were based upon demonstrated dedication to the innovative development and delivery of legal services to the poor in one of the 14 pro bono districts of Indiana. "This award came as a real surprise to me. It is truly an honor. Just being the first chair of the commission which began the implementation of the pro bono process was somewhat humbling.

Question: "Who thought that someday sitting on the bench seemed more like a leisurely activity than a career?"

Response: "Mark Bailey"

A: yes

I had drunk too much, I confess, though we all had. Somehow, Tasha and I began to argue the worth of Solevgrad jazz, as inconsequential a topic as I can imagine. She had studied it in school, so she thought herself as an expert. I once had a neighbor who played it constantly, loudly, and badly, so I thought I knew it better. Malaquez tried to mediate, but I saw him as siding with Tasha. So, I think, did she. The subject shifted from music to Tasha's obsession with fame, undoubtedly by a leap that I made. She had no choice but to follow. (I do not remember any of this well, just now, nor do I care to. Those who are truly curious may look at the last act of "Captured Moments.") I remember suggesting, with characteristic tact, that she add Emil to her small list of major accomplishments. Malaquez glanced away, embarrassed. Tasha looked at me as if to say, "I will." She said, "I feel sorry for you, Nardo. I'll see Emil home." "Yes," I said, "Do that," and did not care what she did, or why. Emil asked, "You're all right?" I muttered something he must have interpreted as assent. They both walked up to Emil's home while I watched the scarlet moonlight ripple on distant waves. Disgusted with Tasha but more disgusted with myself, I finally realized she would not return that night and went into The Sleeping Flamingo to drink myself to sleep. She had not come home when I woke in mid-morning.

Question: "Where is it assumed that Tasha spent the night?"

Response: "With Nardo"

A:
no