Quicklyish

I’m having a case of the Mondays, so I’ll be brief.

1. Listen to us drunken pontificate. BL1Y and I have recorded, posted and edited (in that order) our second podcast (appropriately titled “Episode 1”) of Blind Drunk Justice. Check it out here. Do it. Now.

2. Namby is Scholarly If you have stumbled upon this corner of the internet because it’s part of your law school curriculum, drop me a line (thenambypamby@gmail.com) and let me know what on earth the educational value of my attempted humor happens to be. I’m looking at you California Western School of Law.

3. Objection! Counsel do not care. I have a trial Thursday. Neither opposing counsel nor I are all that thrilled that we cannot get this case settled. There is a very large chance I am going to mail it in. There is also a very large chance that opposing counsel is going to do the same thing. It could be a trial for sleep deprived. Either way, it's cramping my style this week.

Celebrating the advantages of a weekend office visit

The partners are out of town and several other individuals are on vacation. I've just stopped by the office to get vital work done (use the gym showers). And it is amazing thing being here. There is no one else here. No one. It is dark, it is peaceful and smelled like the place had been clean.

Presently, I am sitting behind my desk sweating profusely and smelling like a garbage heap (thank you soccer games!). I'm walking barefoot to other offices and scratching myself inappropriately.

Because. I. Can.

[This is the only advantage of being here. But I am going to celebrate it]

The Caffeine Fueled Attorney and the Epic of Fail

I’m sitting in the courtroom this morning waiting for the morning motion hearings to begin. At that moment, I’m conferring with opposing counsel on a few minor matters (i.e. Tiger Wood’s progress at the Barclays). The judge enters, we stand, we sit and the first case gets called.

The lead attorney on this case has had her coffee this morning as she nearly sprints towards the bench. The two other attorneys commence their stroll towards the judge when the first attorney starts: “Beth Smith on behalf of the Movant, ABC corporation, your honor, I would like to address my argument in three distinct points…”

It’s about this point that the other attorneys finally reach the bench.

“Judge Jones…” The caffeine fueled attorney continues as rapid fire pace, “It is clear that we are entitled to an order entered in our favor if you look your past rulings in this case, the new case law on this matter and more importantly looking at the supreme court’s recent…” This attorney is oblivious to the fact that the judge has his hand up and hoping to stop her before she really gets into it.

“Uhh…Counsel”

She is too wrapped up in her argument to realize the judge has actually spoken. Mind you, she brought a court reporter to her argument today that was dutifully transcribing everything that was being said in front of this Judge. “Counsel, let me stop you there,” she finally looks up and stops talking, “I can see from the file that this is a case that Judge Jones has ruled extensively on in the past and as I am just covering today, why don’t we enter and continue this for when Judge Jones is back on the bench. Does that sound good to you?”

“You’re not Judge Jones?”

I couldn’t see the entire face of this attorney from my vantage point, but I could definitely see the Judge’s name placard sitting directly in front of him (and within 24 inches of her mouth) that clearly established that the judge was not named “Jones” not the mention this Judge looks nothing like Judge Jones. But yet, this realization seemed to escape her:

“I really thought you were Judge Jones.”

I love confident and knowledgeable representation in the morning.

Take this Sabbath day…or whatever you call the first day of class

As countless masses of lawyers in training start their first day of law school for the year, there is finally some good news for all unemployed, underemployed and soon to be lawyers out there!

The new Georgetown law school dean (or whatever they affectionately call the head of the Georgetown University Law Center) believes that the economy will inspire lawyers to do more of what they want as entrepreneurs, focus on public interest and identify areas of employment that resonates with why they came to law school in the first place. As if there weren’t enough people on the food stamp rolls…

But this got me thinking that it is time for a pop quiz for all of you out there:

What are the acceptable reasons to go to law school?

A. You possess a desire to spend the rest of your professional life working in public interest for a pauper’s wage never being able to pay off your loans, credit cards and/or bookie. But you then run for President as a Junior Senator from Illinois.

B. People always told you that you are good at arguing. And clearly, that’s all that lawyers do.

C. Chicks, money, power and chicks.

D. You have always wanted to start your own business that has a 1 in 3 shot to fail in your first year, After it does, you file bankruptcy and go get your MBA. [After you steal someone’s identity to escape the crippling secured debt that you have incurred over the course of your life]

E. I got a political science degree…what else am I supposed to do?

F. You have felt that God has wanted you to go to a top fifteen law school and become an associate at a prestigious firm. What you didn’t see coming was God’s sense of humor when lose your job due to economic restructuring and now do a weekly podcast with your truly in a vain hope that someone will pay us lots of money to drink and record our thoughts about the legal practice. [It's a good first show...I think...I was kinda drunk]

G. Trick question, there is no appropriate reason to go to law school.

Despite the sad economic times, dealing with people that suck and a boss that doesn’t like Microsoft Word, I still love being a lawyer.

Even though I took reason C.

Repeating to the client hallmark well wishes. (And other half-truths)

I write a lot of letters to clients. Day in and day out it always begins: "I hope that you are doing well."

Every letter. All the time. Going on three years.

I was going through a rather large file yesterday and found about 40 letters to this client that all (save one) began exactly the same way. That's a lot of hoping life is going well.

As these letters start out with my standard boilerplate only to begin the path towards nastiness with the very next sentence: "I hope that you are doing well. As you know, we appeared before Judge Soandso last week and he entered sanctions against you for offensive body odor..." But sometimes this is a necessary evil as there is no good way to begin a client letter. I just can't bring myself to say "I hope your spirits are high after the botched circumcision."

I need a new opening line to my clients. Something that conveys warmth (that I don't have) while implying hope that they haven't shat all over their cases.

Any suggestions?

On the Partnership Track Part One: Dealing with the Partner’s Families

We are at that time of year when partner’s children are in the waning days of their summer vacations. As they are about to head back to school, high school and/or college these children and young adults want to spend time with their hard working Mom or Dad so that said parent will give the child their credit card.

My general view on parter's kids is that they are agents of the Gestapo.

Anything that I say, do or think will be communicated in the direction of those that have the power to terminate my services. I do not want to offend these precious chitlins. Or their parents. Because I like my paycheck (except when it bounces).

When the inevitable questions comes to you from the Power and the Glory himself, you have to be ready with a clever and flattering response.

“What do you think of my son?”

It’s the moment of truth, do you want to be a partner at your firm?

Future Partner Answer: “Your son reminds me of you. Only more talented, funnier and a lot smarter...”

Pithy, acknowledging the strengths of your partner and implying that he has molded a better man than he. All in all, a solid response.

Future Partner of a Roadside Lemonade Stand: “Your son reminds me of what you must have been like at his age: a handsome, intelligent younger version of Rock Hudson...”

I'll just grab my things and um...write my memoirs...

This process gets trickier if your partner has a daughter. Under no circumstances should you ever compare her to Rosie O’Donnell.

Even if she could pass as her twin.

Namby CLE: Litigation strategy

Hypothetical: You’ve just been informed that the opposing party has been arrested for multiple felonies and there are multiple eyewitnesses, photographs and videos of this individual’s misdeeds. Throughout the life of this lawsuit, your opposing counsel has had a burr up his ass about how your client is such a bad person. According to your opponent, your client will be viewed as the Devil’s Third Cousin Twice Removed (a.k.a. the bastard test-tube love child of Flava Flav, Snooki and Nancy Pelosi) by the jury members of this particular jurisdiction by the time he finishes his opening statement. Keep in mind that this particular lawyer took great joy in informing you at 5am on a Friday when your client was arrested for a series of misdemeanors.

How do you use this information to the best of your advantage?

A) Print out the front page newspaper article talking about your opposing party en mass. Have a courier deliver to counsel’s office a 500 sheet batch of these printouts. Every 15 minutes.

B) If you are a defendant, attach to a wordless e-mail two things: (1) scan of the article. and (2) a dismissal order. If you are a Plaintiff, attach to a wordless e-mail one thing: a signed settlement release with an extra zero in the settlement figure.

C) Nothing. It’s called plausible deniability. [Just make sure your law clerk doesn’t get caught breaking into opposing counsel’s office and replacing all of their framed art with framed poster-sized versions of the frontpage newspaper story while resetting all of the computer desktops in the firm to the picture of their client being lead out of a home in handcuffs]

D) “Mistakenly” insert it into every random court filing, correspondence and other material that will make it to opposing counsel. On every case that you have with him. For the rest of his professional life.

I can't begin to explain my actions

For reasons that make sense to no one, I woke up before 6 this morning. Despite my best efforts, I have yet to be able to fall back asleep. In an effort to re-enter dreamland, I turned on ESPN and began to watch their Sunday morning programming: Hunting.

For reasons I cannot begin to explain, I am still watching. And fascinated with these guided hunts.

Help.

Flying by the seat of my pants can lead to crashing into a lake of malpractice

The Court: Counsel, we are going to continue this for a short status date and if we need, we can reschedule for a hearing. You won’t need to be prepared for a hearing on the next date.
Me: Your Honor, it’s not fun to be prepared.
The Court: Excuse me?
Me: It’s more entertaining for you, the witnesses and my clients if I am just riffing off the cuff.
The Court: I can’t argue with your logic.
Me: My malpractice carrier can.

In full disclosure, my clients left the courtroom before I started this conversation.

Oh by the way…

One of my partner’s left for vacation today. In theory, my life gets to be a little easier for the next two weeks. At least, that is what I was hoping for until his first call into the office:

Partner: I forgot to finish the brief in the Smith v. Jones case. Please finish that for me.
Me: Which case?
Partner: Smith v. Jones. The appellate brief needs to get done and filed with the Court.
Me: Sure thing. When’s the filing deadline?
Partner: Today.

So much for life being easier. Especially when I find out that “finishing” the brief means “writing the whole thing from scratch.”

Tuesday sucks.

Danger, Danger

I walked into court and the bailiff came up to me and gave me the look of death.

"You're in the doghouse after your last time here"

Not the way I wanted to start my Friday court appearance. And I haven't stepped up yet.

Confession

I have a hard time staying motivated to work after 10 at night when I know that I am just going to take the brunt of a particular judge's wrath.

That's why I have a few glasses of wine. And pray that I'll catch my slap happy editorial comments in the morning when I do the final once over of my emergency brief.

Smiling Cannon Fodder

Apparently, I have a sadomasochistic streak in me.

My partner and I have been doing a decent amount of work on this particular case. This case has been going on for some time and we had finally made progress towards settlement when things came unglued. The relationship with the opposing parties and their counsel has been anything but pleasant. Name calling, blatant disregard for respect and decorum accompanied by a wicked case of halitosis is what we dealt with every time we interacted with opposing counsel.

As this case has progressed, my partner has started to handle more of the ‘partner-esque’ aspects of the case (meaning he is now directly calling the shots). Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on how you look at it) my partner has started taking the lead in these interactions, meaning that we will be the example of professionalism (all I want to do is punch this opposing lawyer in the face which I’ve been told is unprofessional).

Today he directed me to handle the latest contested motion that the other side has seen fit to file. The partner gave me my marching orders and off I went to Court to zealously advocate our position.

It is an ominous sign when you get cut off in the middle of your argument by the Judge.

It is a things-are-going-from-bad-to-worse sign when the Judge tersely tells you that you need to stop talking because nothing will change the Court’s mind.

The oh-shit moment is when the Judge starts ranting while beginning to yell about your firm’s (read: my partner’s) actions in this case.

There I am, the psychological equivalent of standing naked in the middle of the court with the Judge reading the riot act to me. Weirdly, I know that there are 40 pairs of eyes behind me staring at the back of my head (or my ghetto booty) and I haven’t hit that ‘flop-sweat moment’.

I was taking one for the team, getting publically torn to shreds and told of the many unpleasant things that are going to happen to me as a result of upsetting the court. I’m standing there, oddly calm while stifling a smile (almost like I’m enjoying it…?).

It was a surreal experience. One that I hope to never repeat again.