I drink from the keg of glory

Last week, the Nuclear Option Case was up in court to set a briefing schedule for the Plaintiff’s counsel to respond to the mountains of paper that I had thrown at him.

It was a typical encounter between opposing counsel and I: unpleasant. 

I let him leave the courtroom while I was “plugging the briefing schedule into my iPhone” in an effort to not have to take the same elevator down with him.  A couple minutes pass then I leave the courtroom to find him waiting outside for me.  Over the next twenty minutes we argue. Loudly.  So much so that a sheriff’s deputy comes up and tells us to be quiet twice.

I stuck to the arguments set forth in my motions while he tried to dance between four different superficial arguments that easily get kicked down each time he tries to reword what he is already said. He offers to settle the case for a number that is a drastically less than what has been his party line for the past year.  I tell him that number is unacceptable and that I’ll see him at the motion hearing.

Today the mail brings a hand-written letter from opposing counsel.

Offering to dismiss the case.

Motion Practice

As written: “Due to an ongoing criminal investigation, the relevant corporate officers are unable to assist with the investigation of the claim"

I could have said: “The client has been denied bail”

A hot mess

I wrote yesterday about the finger damage. It’s time to update the roll of awesome:

• My fingers are changing colors to pinkish. They still hurt. So does my head (where I hit the cross bar in the soccer game last night), my wrist (where I was stepped on) and my posterior (turns out that diving all over the place has ill effects)
  
• I have sent out multiple letters today to various different attorneys on a host of matters. Thus far, I’ve seen that I have misspelled “Attorney” “Insurance” “Examiner” “Illinois” and my last name.  I am scared to look back at others that have gone out today.
  
• I referred a friend a potential job connection and gave her the office fax number to call.
  

In order to salvage this day, it is now time to drink.

Peace is our profession

The Morning Court Call begins early and the assembled masses were in for a show:

Attorney One: This is my motion for…

Attorney Two: Your honor, if I just can say…
Attorney One: This is my MOTION, let me FINISH!
Attorney Two: Your honor, as I was saying regarding this motion…
Attorney One: I just want to present my motion!
The Court: Gentleman, you have every right to take advantage of the Court’s time, that is what I am here for. However, you are here on a weekly basis because of the adversarial personal relationship between the two of you. You are grinding the litigation process to a halt because you refuse to agree on anything…
Attorney Two: As I began to say your honor…
Attorney One: I have to be allowed to speak! This is my MOTION!
The Court: You do realize that right now you are just looking at me. But when this is all over, you are going to have to look at the 30 pairs of eyes that are staring at your backs intently right now?

Fifteen minutes later after multiple motions from both attorneys, objections, and arguments over the definition of the word “it,” the pair of attorneys finally turn from the Judge. As far as I can tell, neither of them actually got what any of their motions were asking for. But I was too busy laughing quietly with everyone else in the room to pay that close of attention.

These two immediately realize that the entire courtroom, packed with attorneys who have just witnessed this temper tantrum, are now staring at them. They stop moving away from the bench. One attorney puts out his hand to shake.  The other attorney looks at the appendage like it is infected with Ebola but after several long seconds, he shakes. It was much like Yitzhak Rabin and Yasser Arafat at the White House.  Only this wasn’t peace, it was just another Cook County personal injury case.

Soccer is a beautiful game

I got kicked in the hands making a save today. Beautiful save. And now beautiful colors: my ring fingers have a sultry purple hue above the joints. They will go quite well with a purple shirt and purple tie tomorrow.

The real issue is not this forced fashion decision. The real issue is that both of my ring fingers took the brunt of the impact of the guys foot. I believe that one is broken and the other is dislocated. Or both are broken. Either way it is something not good.

I’m totally psyched to type a brief tomorrow with the three fingers I have full control of that don’t hurt.

A lawyer is a J.D. not M.D.

Caller: You a lawyer? Can ask you a few questions?
Me: Yes sir, go right ahead
Caller: I had surgery in November and it still hurts, is that normal?
Me: I am a lawyer not a doctor, I have no idea if that is normal. Talk to your doctor.
Caller: But I want to sue.

I laughed, I smiled, and then I snorted a little

I walked out of my office last night headed towards the train station and, as per usual, there was a row of cabs waiting for passengers. I noticed that someone that had left just in front of me had gotten into one of the cabs lined up. But it wasn’t the first cab and apparently this is some sort of cab etiquette faux pas.

A brief lesson from Cabbie Etiquette School: deodorant optional, ongoing cell phone conversation required, and damnit, passengers must get in the first lined up cab.

The first in line cabbie popped out of the cab as he saw what happened and ran to the cab behind him screaming at the driver. “You stole my passenger! How dare you? Give me my passenger!”

I don’t think much of this as I continue my walk to the train station. Then I approach another line of cabs and I watch another cabbie pop out of his cab and make a beeline for the cab parked in front of him. This guy is pissed. He is loudly using words that my mother doesn’t like [but are George Carlin approved] and he is pounding on the cab’s driver side window with his fists clearly questioning the species of that cabbie’s mommy.

This cabbie isn’t big, maybe 5’6, portly (but not grossly obese), and he is definitely getting his money’s worth out of this tantrum. As this is all going on, another guy and I are standing waiting for the light to change just observing the humor.

Then the ‘victim’ cab driver gets out of his cab.

When you see a man that is taller than seven feet get out of a cab and he is glaring down at a pesky little prig losing his mind, the only thing you can do is just start to laugh. Convulsions of laughter. That’s exactly what the two of us watching this exchange did. I didn’t stick around to see how the third cabbie that joined the fray refereed the fracas, but in just witnessing this, my night had been made.

What happened? I blacked out

I don’t ever want to think that I am getting the hang of this lawyer thing.

I know that I need to have more practice at certain critical aspects of the practice of law. This mentality of realizing that I am so close to failing keeps me on my toes and to always be learning, watching, and adapting. A fear of losing is my motivation.

This is the long-winded set up to the fact that I had a contentious motion argument today on a motion (and a case) that is entirely my own project. The process of investigating, assembling, drafting, and re-writing took about three months.

This was the first motion that I have ever worked on of this nature in my career. When I first got the assignment, I had no idea what I was doing. To make matters worse, this is not the run of the mill motion that everyone does. I asked four different attorneys for copies of similar motions and none of them had one (only one could recall ever doing one). The legal research performed was vague and not particular insightful. In other words, I was flying blind.

As I was walking into the courtroom, I just so happened to remember that I hadn’t done anything more than skim the opposing brief. Whoops. Then I remembered that I knew the factual based argument of my position, but I couldn’t for the life of me remember the legal standard that I was arguing. Double whoops. Further realizations then occurred that I didn’t have specific facts on the tip of my tongue. Triple…well you get the picture.

There I am, furiously reading through my motion, my supporting documentation, and the opposing brief as I awaited the judge to enter the courtroom. I am totally sure that my opposing counsel who was sitting next to me was wondering what sort of nitwit he was about to wipe the floor with. All I knew as I was walking towards the judge, the law and the facts favored my opponent. But something amazing happened: I won.

The long end of the short of it is, I have little to no idea what I’m doing a lot of the time. Apparently, that bodes well for my clients.

Almost made it through the day without the harming of me, the attorney

Despite not having thrown coffee, tea, food, or a pissy client on myself, I managed to slice open the inside of my finger with a wicked paper cut thanks to a motion for summary judgment that I am filing tomorrow.

I'm trying not to bleed on the keyboard right now...

Mind you, I work in a modern office skyscraper

There is nothing more uplifting to one’s spirit than walking in from a relaxing weekend, heading to the office bathroom to freshen up, and finding a cockroach staring you in the face.

Is it next weekend yet?

My brain has frozen

When I left for work this morning it was a balmy -11 degrees or if you are using the metric system, it was totally fucking cold.

I am seriously contemplating not leaving my office until Spring arrives.

---

3:30pm: It's risen to a summer like -6 degrees.

If it ain't broke, it will be soon enough

Three Attorneys are sitting at counsel table prior to the beginning of the morning court call. Two of them are of the sage and wise generation, the other one is wearing pink.

Old Guard Attorney #1: When the weather gets like this, I have (long named medical condition that I cannot pronounce, spell nor remember) and I just can’t breathe.
Old Guard Attorney #2: You take anything for your heart?
Old Guard Attorney #1: [Pulls out a pill case and shakes it]
Old Guard Attorney #2: I take so many pills that I just get so tired [he begins to list five or six different heart and blood pressure medicines]
Me: [Sitting awkwardly at the table listening to this exciting future that awaits]
Old Guard Attorney #1: You know, we had better stop talking about our health, otherwise this young guy [points to me] is going to run screaming from the practice of law.
Me: You guys have given me a lot to look forward to.
Old Guard Attorney #2: Fifty years in the practice of law and this is what happens to you.
Me: Better living through chemistry.

A Monday Night Contradiction [and other thoughts of today]

1.  I love snowy nights.  I love walking in the falling snow.  To steal a phrase from The American President, its Capra-esque, I love it.  I hate the snow just sitting on the ground.  I hate the cold.  I hate the wind.  Snowing = good.  Snow = bad.

2. I was prepping for a deposition while having lunch this afternoon. I was at a restaurant near where the deposition was going to happen while going over my notes. It was then when I heard a girl at another table call her mom a Namby Pamby. She then had to define what a Namby Pamby was to her mom. I was laughing.

3. Over the last couple of weeks I've been working out more. Yay healthy living! However, I keep hitting the 'emergency stop' button on the treadmill as I am running. I am not sure about the physics of the situation, but it just can't be good to self inflict a case of whiplash while sprinting.

Jack Bauer es Muy Supremo Liveblog

It's been too long since my guilty pleasure has been torturing the evil doers.

But he's back. Finally.
---

The First Thoughts:

• Evil Tony:  32% Hotter than Tony with Michelle.  18% Less drunk than out of work, ex-con Tony
  
• Jack Bauer needs to tell the Senator to go back to That 70s Show.  Thankfully, the FBI told the Senator Jack is needed to fuck some shit up, you can go back to speechafying tomorrow.
  
• Hot Redhead FBI...  Not really a deep thought, just a fact

It just gets better as the minutes tick by:

• I really want Gary Oldman to reprise his role as the hijacker from Air Force One and ask the President "How's your dress?"
• Jack Bauer is much more likely to stimulate the economy than Congress.
• Wouldn't it be awesome if the editors of 24 had decided to intersplice a few scenes from the movie Airplane into this?  "Timmy, you ever seen a grown man naked?"
• As far as 24 Presidents go, I want President Pedro Cerrano to come back from the dead.  It seems that this season's Madam President is a mix of Hillary Clinton, my male high school librarian, and Bob Gunton's furrowed brow.

Has it really been 40 minutes already:

• The First Husband is a pussy.  Jeanine Garafalo is a nerd.  Jack Bauer still hasn't shot anyone yet. 
• As has been said before: Jack Bauer is still the leading exception to the 4th Amendment.
• The Hot Redhead FBI Agent controls Jack?  These people in Washington are delusional.

Time Flies When Jack Bauer hasn't shot anyone:

• FBI Operation means what now?  Jack can't tear fingernails off?  Pity
• Irish guy, with a wicked scar, me thinks is in for trouble.  Hottie FBI just doesn't see it yet.
• Hottie FBI...I spoke too soon.  You da man.  And now you just gave Jack carte blanche.
• Pen mightier than...well...everything but that sniper
• MY NAME IS ROGER MURDOCK

One hour down and Jack hasn't killed anyone.  Hmm...Disappointing.  I think that RedFBI (that a good name?) is going to be a good partner for Jack.  That is until she gets shot 3 minutes into the second hour.  The president is mere surplussage for me.  I need a good "Behroooooz" scream or a Chloe scowl.  Or something.  

The Following Takes Place Between Now and Not Now:

• Pilots, I guess, are just like Ron Burgundy.  
• A mole?  In the FBI?  On 24?  Tell me more.
• You may take Jack's gun but you will never take RedFBI's freckles.
• My name is Roger Murdock-san
• Benevolent Tony Almeida is good.  Commercials are bad (except that T-Mobile family talk commercial is pretty damn funny: "you can call that woman you are always staring at during my soccer game")

He gon get it:

• Tony is going to kill Jack.  Yes.  I believe this.  Not.
• Bob Gunton is thinking about the good old days back at Shawshank...stupid Andy Dufresne put him into politics
• Madam President is showing some leg!
• One dead FBI Agent is coming right up!  Maybe not.  Intrigue.
• Jack and I have a thing for RedFBI.  Do you think that they would cuddle after killing a bad guy?

90 Minutes gone...I have the sad:

• Of course the black guy from Africa is the bad guy.  Racist writers.
• Jack Bauer and RedFBI are off on a tryst.  Leave it alone bossman, just leave it alone.

It's almost over...no killing by Jack.  I might as well be watching C-Span:

• First Gentleman Namby Pamby...
• I feel that some shooting is going to happen soon.  Jack is going to deliver some justice.
• RedFBI gets hotter by the minute: first the freckles now the gun to Jack.
• And Jack claims his first victim, poor surveillance camera.
• You killed him together, what a great first date.
• They seriously need to teach typing while holding a gun at the government's school of agent training.
• Bossman just caught Jack and RedFBI In Flagrante Delicto

Well, Jack's Back.  I'm sated.  

We are ready to launch the weapon

I wrote about this the nuclear option case about a month ago.  At that time, I had just sent a professional ‘wtf mate?’ letter to the other side looking to see if we could get a handle on this situation.

A Fax, A Mailing, and several follow-up calls later and what have I heard? Nothing.

I’ve been up since 5:30 this morning for some reason, I’ve worked out and I feel motivated. Thus for the past two hours I’ve been refining the motions that have been drafted in anticipation of their filing. And their subsequent in person service when we are before the judge this week. [Why, yes Your Honor, I want to torch opposing counsel’s law license, would you like to set the briefing schedule now or should I just light the match?]

This lawyering job is kinda fun.

I'm just wondering...

Why is the only toilet stall in the men’s locker room at my office’s gym a handicap stall?

Petulant Child, J.D.

I am sitting in the courtroom waiting for the call to begin as the last one finishes up. I try and pay attention because sleeping in the jury box and snoring in open court is a habit best left to the judges, not young attorneys.

Shortly after I sat down, a lawyer walked up to counsel’s table and forcefully ripped an order out of the hands of his opposing counsel as he was reading it [It sounded as if he was removing a paper jam from the printer] . The attorney who had just lost the order demanded that it be returned rather loudly: “Give it baaaaaaaaack…I haven’t been able to reeeeeaad it…”

The Sheriff’s deputy in this courtroom is one who actively inserts himself into the more vocal attorneys situations reminding them that he is, in fact, carrying a gun and that you should shut the fuck up when Court is in session. He grabs the order and says, “Children, I will show this order to the judge when you two calm down. Now be quiet.” As soon as the Deputy turns away and moves back toward the Judge, the lawyer sitting at the table crosses his arms, pouts, and says so the whole courtroom can hear him: “Don’t call me a child!”

There isn’t much of a moral here except that maybe if you are 70 years old, you shouldn’t act like a child… Then again, maybe you should act like a child, because the 15 other lawyers in the courtroom were all failing to stifle their laughter behind your back.

One Man's Death Equals Another Man's One-Third

Office Manager: [Flustered] I was an hour late because my train hit a guy!
Me: Did you give him a business card?

Brain power of the dumb and dumberer

I just called an attorney trying to discuss a case. He wasn’t in the office, naturally I left a message. I gave my name, my firm, and the case number. I then thanked the woman and hung up.

It was just after I killed the call that I realized that I didn’t leave my number.

Out with the old, in with the...um...old

2009 is starting off with a blast:

--I spilled my morning coffee while walking upstairs from the coffeemaker to the shower.
--It was 12 degrees this morning and I was told that that was going to be the high temp for the week.
--My new Cook County ID picture makes me look drunk (which I suppose is a step up from the serial killer look I had last year).
--I didn’t look before sitting, thus I fell into the toilet bowl. Again.

Is it too early to take my 2009 mulligan?

On the upside though:

--I haven’t had to lie to a client.
--I haven’t missed a court appearance nor blown a statute.
--I’m wearing pink.

I’ve got that going for me…which is nice.

New Years Selected Thoughts

1. Why is Dick Clark allowed to be on television? Pre-stroke he was less than choice, post-stroke he is epic fail. Or maybe I am epic fail for mocking him. Either way, Daisy paid him the best compliment of the night: “A stroke is like free botox!” There is a good chance that her ticket to hell was just upgraded to Economy Plus after that comment.

1a. Was I the only one who started to heave when he kissed the woman (his wife maybe?) at Midnight East Coast time?

2. 2008 had it’s highs and lows: I was unemployed, I moved home, I got a job, I lost my first trial, I won my first trial, etc. But at the end of a year I recognized the one constant of the year were my friends, we all had our highs and lows, but no matter what we have each other.

2a. And then certain friends over-served themselves. Classic.

3. I really hope 2009 is better than 2008.

4. Callaway Golf is already starting to flood my e-mail box with new equipment advertisements. I must go golfing soon.

4a. More importantly, I must take a vacation soon. I started work the second week of February. Looking back on it, independent of holidays and weekends, I took three vacation days and had 3 sick days. That math indicates that I am due to start going a little more batty than usual.

5. The voting ends today in the ABA Blawg 100. I have gotten my ass kicked. But as of last look, I am not dead last. So I’ve got that going for me…which is nice. Seriously though, it’s a fantastic honor that I still don’t know how they chose me. I use this space so that others can hopefully laugh along with me. For those of you who have come here as a result of the ABA, welcome, I hope you like what you see. For those of you who came here on your own, thanks.

5a. Not that I’d tell them this to their face, but this is ABA fanfare is something that I believe comes from having a close knit group of friends, who all blog. This recognition, at least in my mind, is a collective one for us Chicago bloggers.

Happy 2009