A comedy in one act.
It is literature, not life, I promise ;)
-Act I, Scene I-
A hearing in a pretend county on an emergency motion. Hour 1.4 of what was supposed to be a thirty minute hearing.
Our poor fool is sitting with her client, who is FABULOUS,
everyone should have a client like him.
Opposing Counsel, we’ll call “OC” because it works, has just finished up her client's trip
down memory lane.
During cross, which is unusually organized
if the author may speculate, Counsel begins to notice a familiar wobble in her
voice, flushed cheeks, and a bit of warmth at the back of her head. She looks down, and sees that her hands are beginning to shake. She thinks: “No.
Bueno.”
Counsel finishes cross and returns opposing party (who is
testifying via telephone. Not Court
Call, mind you, the telephone) to OC. Not wanting to pass out at counsel table and
bash her head in (Insurance doesn’t kick in for another week or so.) Counsel
searches for options. “Hazaah!” She remembers a fruit leather tucked neatly
away in her court backpack. (Seriously, don’t bring an actual backpack to
court.) Believing she has a short time left before full meltdown and several minutes
before OC finishes her conversation,
Counsel shoves the entire fruit leather into her mouth.
At just that moment, JO, who has been away from Counsel’s
sightline for the entirety of the hearing by a dragon of the 1984 boxy desktop
variety, leans forward and asks “Re-Cross Counsel?”.
Chipmunk Cheeks for the win!
-End Scene-
-The End-
**No chipmunks were harmed in the writing of this play. Or
any other time that I’m aware of.**
**Hypothetical shout out to my better work half, CJK, for
making sure my backpack was stocked with snacks before sending me off to camp
this week.**
Crack is wack. I
learned that from Whitney Houston waaaay before I learned from work that crack
really IS wack. Crack is so wack that it
is regulated to the point of zero legality.
Not even for medicinal purposes people and I’m not messin’ around here.
However,
there are other substances, legal substances that I am thankful are
regulated. I know, most of you know I
don’t like too much regulation all up in my “bidness” if you will… so before
you think I’ve gone all this guy:
Let me just explain…
They’re HIGHLY addictive.
They do things to your body that you cannot recover from. They change the way reasonably sane people
conduct themselves. Sane people do not
tear apart their friends and family’s homes looking for their next “fix”. I am so very very thankful that they are
highly regulated, even if not by “the man”.
No, they’re regulated by the “little wo-mans”. That’s right, I’m talking about these demons:
I may or may not have consumed 1.5 boxes of these nightmares
in the last 72 hours. Never in my life
have I been so thankful that they are only available once a year, for a short
time, and that you can only buy them if you are so unfortunate as to cross the
path of some diligent pushers loitering outside of your local grocery
market. Or if you have a close tie to a
munchkin who has ties to “the organization”.
I’m not kidding, they keep these things on a tight leash. Thank goodness.
Can you imagine a world where we had free
flowing daily access to Thin Mints? Any
time of the day or night you just pick up your phones and order delivery? I shudder at the thought. The internet tells me that I would survive a
very long time in a zombie apocalypse. I
am quite confident that that is because they did not ask me any questions about
the withdrawal I would sink into on the day that the Thin Mint supply line
dried up. Ohhhh golly.
Hold tight to your loved ones people, it is Girl Scout
Cookie time.
Not to knock Ms. Witherspoon. I adore her.
However, the words she uttered in her application video have haunted me
on a daily basis these last few years.
Personal Opinion: Most people should NOT be comfortable
using legal language in every day conversation.
Snobbish? Perhaps, but also practical. Why?
Because lots and lots of people don’t bother to look up what a word or
phrase actually means before they use it.
That’s why. Read: “notwithstanding” “and what have you” “could
care less” and one of my personal favorites “that’s hearsay”.
Trust me, I worry all of the time. I make up words for whimsy but I worry that
people think I don’t know they’re made up.
I worry that the real words I’m using will be used incorrectly on
accident. Am I using affect when I
should be using effect? (OHH how that torments my waking hours – autocorrect anyone?)
True confession: I practice law on a daily basis and I still
have to re-read the many many exceptions to hearsay all.the.time. There are about a bagillion, fyi, and it is
hard to remember them all. That’s
possibly why it really burns my biscuits when some fella sitting next to me
(insert random place and time – all the time) arguing with another individual
throws out a “that’s hearsay” as his shoot down of the other’s argument. Well, no, brother man, it is not hearsay. It was an observation of your physical state
and a statement of that man’s belief.
Not. Hearsay. “I saw you hit that car” – Not hearsay. “He
goes on expensive vacations but hasn’t paid his child support in three years.” Also, depending on how the speaker came
across this information, probably not hearsay.
Damaging, yes. Hearsay, no.
What you don’t know CAN hurt you. Besides the exceptions to hearsay (‘cause
evidently I’m on fire there), and how to get your evidence admitted there are
other pitfalls to not knowing the full meaning of what is happening. Recently, I was presiding over a case where a
party offered up some text messages as evidence. Now, I might not have let those in. However, when I asked Mr. Smartyrepresenthimselfpants
if he objected to them being admitted, his response was “Yes, that was a
confidential conversation with my kid.” Nope.
Nope it wasn’t. (Sadly, they do not let
us simply scream out “OBJECTION!!!” when we don’t like what is happening.) We all have bad days. More than once I’ve sincerely wanted to say “all
of them” instead of naming an objection.
The point though is, I know what the objections are supposed to be and
the words will come and 90% of the time they’re the right ones. Stick to the words you know. Even if they are
shorter.
Please,
please, in the name of all things holy, if you don’t know what a word/phrase means,
don’t use it. If you don’t believe me,
take a listen to this guy (min 5:16 especially). Surely he knows what I’m talking about. Or sadly, maybe he doesn't.
Spring! I had just
started believing that old man winter was going to pull an Olaf and stick
around to see “whatever it is that snow does in summer”*. But soft, what light through yonder window
breaks? It is the sun, praise God, and
it may warm my tootsies up to 63 degrees today!
I don’t know about every small firm, but for ours, the
change from winter to spring also means a change in practice area volume. For us, January/February is family law
flood. Lots of folks have made it
through one last holiday with a spouse or significant other and decide to start
the new year making a significant life change. People receive their tax return and use it to
file for modifications in parenting time, or for contempt for missed holiday
time, bad gifts and holiday indiscretions… you name it, it gets filed.
Then comes the warmer weather. Every year, with the warmer weather, like the
new crocus bulbs in the garden, come the rush of new public intox and DUI
cases. Something about the nice weather
makes people want to do their drinking outside or on the move. I get it, totally, yesterday I heard a Jason
Aldean song on the radio and thought “hmmm that IS “my kind of partaaaay”. Trust me though, my drinking will not be done
on the move, I don’t even intend to get “thrown into public” while intoxicated
and I won’t even buy package alcohol in a county that may or may not rhyme with
“camilton”…these are my choices. I
encourage folks to make similar choices.
I mean, sure, I love going to court for public intox cases in my “home
counties”. The courts are well run, the
prosecutors are generally slightly more relaxed and it pays the bills. However, I don’t wish the damage that these hiccups
cause on anyone.
So
please, enjoy the weather, the flowers and the “cultural appreciation days”.
Just please enjoy them safely and in ways that don’t make me
enforce my “Emergency Time” clause. I’ll
come see ya’ at 3am downtown, but neither one of us is gonna be happy about it.
Well, my boss who pays the bills will, but I won’t. I need my beauty sleep.
-DEC
*Seriously, I love Frozen.
** Not me, doesn’t even resemble me, and NOBODY actually
sleeps like this.
First, for the record, I take mine on the rocks with
salt. HOWEVER, I support those who
choose the frozen option. I’m open minded that way.
In addition to the wonder that comes from the blending of
tequila, salt, lime, ice, etc., I would like to sing the praises of the
absolutely fabulous: Frozen.
I know it is Disney.
I initially thought, like many, that it was a “kid” movie. A few weeks ago though, all that
changed. I decided that after a week
full of yelling, hair pulling, knock down drag out fights (and that was just my
pup and her roomy) I needed an escape. I made plans to cut out early and catch
a frivolous, whimsical tale set to music.
(4:20 showing at Trader’s Point).
The obstacle standing in the way was a hearing at a courthouse which
shall not be named but might deal with children, let’s say. I had a 2pm hearing and at 3:30, I mentioned
to the fabulous bailiff that I might need to re-schedule my movie plans. This very masculine man inquired as to what
film I planned to take in. Let me be
honest, I paused. I didn’t want this gatekeeper to some JOs that I really respect
to think me a ninny… but I decided to be honest. “Frozen…” The response startled me “Oh hell
no, you aren’t missing that. It’s the best one Disney’s done in forever.” Ten minutes later my hearing had been called
and I was on my way.
Y’all,
it was fabulous. I downloaded a song off
of itunes. I now have six songs so you
can tell I was pretty in love. I loved
that the song Let it Go wasn’t
angry. It wasn’t a raging destructive
power ballad, it was a song about coming into her own and living into
herself. I think that’s pretty powerful
for little girls and grownups alike. It
is catchy too, and someone with a pitchy alto-ish range can sing along with
reckless abandon (you’re welcome west side morning drivers) like a theme song
for self-confidence without a “B**ch” or a “h*” in sight.
It is positive. It is beautiful. It teaches little girls not to wait around for a prince to save them, but if he wants to be your partner, let him help. (A valuable lesson for big girls too.) Siblings, long estranged, heal broken hearts to make their own little family. And if you don't think the little ones are watching/listening/learning from these shows they watch...I can attest that they are. (I don't have kids, so obviously I'm a perfect parent.)
During a dance recital on a very recent Saturday, I sat, surrounded, by about two dozen small ballerinas. You can imagine their surprise when the "big girls" did their recital dance to Let it Go. During the first chorus there was a small, hesitant voice whispering the words. By the second chorus, twenty tiny ballerinas were singing with all their hearts. For the next five minutes I tried desperately to quiet the many tiny voices trying to tell me all about how brave the characters were, and how they loved each other even though they didn't always get along.
I grew up sitting in the back left pew at Lakeview United Church of Christ. I know it may be surprising, but back then I
preferred to observe before jumping into things and the back left pew was a
great place to do just that.
*This is pretty much the view from my old pew. Technology is crazy, I know.
Back in those days, I would generally wait to see what the
rest of the congregation would do before I’d follow my impulses. I was
young. That’s pretty much worn off these
days. On occasion though, following a
really great choir ballad, in the quiet of the sanctuary I’d hear a soft slow
clap, reflecting the cry of my heart, start from somewhere in the sanctuary. It
never started from this girl sitting in the back left pew.
Fast forward a couple of decades and I’ve been ruminating on
the noticeable change I’ve run into of late.
Increasingly I meet or observe rude, hostile individuals who feel free
to say the most horrible things by justifying them with the statements “I’m
just being honest” or “I’m being my authentic self”. Admittedly, sometimes my
filter turns off and I speak a harsh truth.
I try to do it though in a way that does not cause the recipient to run
crying from the room. (Regardless of the
fact that I may actually sort of WANT to send them crying from the room.) I filter myself in the names of the greater
good, and world peace. I’m not entirely
uncivilized, I assure you. It seems,
however, that the whole “brutal honesty” trend is becoming more and more common
place. I may prove myself old and
crotchety for my years, but I just cannot rest easily with this.
This week while watching an episode of The Bachelor (don’t
judge, everyone needs their mindless relaxations…sometimes mine comes in the
form of “reality” television) I saw a “gentleman” reduce a woman to tears for
the umpteenth time with statements he followed up with “I’m just being honest”
as justification. This time, in response
to this statement the crying lady responded with “there’s a difference between
being ‘honest’ and being an ‘a**h*le’”.
BAM. First ever slow
clap from the back left pew people. You
know what? Standing ovation coming from
that back left pew. I’ve been waiting
weeks to stop watching this show hoping just one person would respond to the
tear inducing “honesty” flowing freely across the screen. Now, I can rest easy switching back over to
Jeopardy or Rehab Addict. I feel much
better about my tv time when I at least come away learning random bits of
trivia or useful skills like how to rehab the bathroom in a 200 year old house
with the appropriate grout color for the subway tile. Sadly, I’m not kidding about that.
I may have mentioned it before: I love the law. I love practicing law. Besides showing up in court rooms and
fighting with people, and making the occasional Constitutional law argument
(believe it or not, it does happen), I get to do some other really cool law
related things that cause the occasional geek out. These occasions include, but are not limited
to: volunteering as a Guardian ad Litem (very cool), serving as an “Ambassador”
of the Indiana Attorney General’s office at community events, presiding as a
judge pro tem over court proceedings, and the most recent geek out opportunity
- the opportunity to speak at one of this summer’s immigration and
naturalization ceremonies. Why is that a
“geek out” opportunity? Because
I.Love.America.
I know it may not be cool to say, but I do. With all her faults and flaws and discord, I
love her from sea to shining sea. Except
parts of Kansas (I-70 anyone?). Sorry
Kansas. I get choked up at the sound of
a crowd singing the Star Spangled Banner even when it is off key. As anyone who has been with me at the opening
of the “greatest spectacle in racing”, you can pretty much consider me down for
the count after a WWII flyover. Any
flyover really. I am in love with where
we’ve been and in prayer for where we will go.
That does not, by any stretch of the imagination, mean that I agree with
every policy made by any leader or governing body of my lifetime. On the contrary I can think of a good many,
especially of late, that give me great pause.
That is the beauty of this place.
I can absolutely categorically to my bones disagree with a major policy
decision, or war, or domestic or international policy, or tax, or non-tax, and
not have to love my country any less. But
I was born with it.
For
more than two centuries, this country has allowed my family the freedoms and
opportunities to chase life, liberty and engage in the pursuit of happiness in
whatever direction they’ve seen fit. I
am excessively excited to be able to share that with a new group of fellow
Americans. I know that people come here for
different reasons and that everyone’s experiences are different. I know that we are not always going to
agree. I also know that at that
ceremony, I will be looking into the faces of some people who have done what I’ve
never had to. They’ve “chosen” us. For
better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, they’ve said goodbye to old
homelands and cast their lot with us and that is huge to me. I’m thankful for them. I’m thankful for the reminder of everything
that I love about my home. There have
been dark days, certainly, and there always will be. We are promised the opportunity to pursue
happiness, not that it will be handed to us and I think that is a beautiful
thing. For myself, the beauty, the
pride, comes from the hard battle won.
Even in the courtroom I take less joy in the easy victories. I hope
that these new citizens are ready to roll up their sleeves and dig in because
there is work to be done. I hope that
they see all of the possibilities that lay before them. I hope that two hundred years from now their
15th great grandchild will be just as geeked out to stand in front
of a crowd and bid welcome as I am. Because, if you can’t tell, I’m pretty
excited.
This man is confused. (No actual likeness known to any real person,
especially not current or former client(s).) He’s suddenly found himself behind
bars but he’s not sure what, in the world, he’s done!
We don’t like for people to be confused so, for your
reference and use, here are some situations we’ve run across/heard of in a bar/maybe seen on t.v. where a body should
maybe not be so surprised to wake in jail:
-If there are red and blue lights behind you and you yell “WOOOOOOHOOOOOOO”
and hit the gas. (Okay, that one I saw in a movie, but it happens.)
-Urinating. In. Public.
-If you have recently committed a very obvious crime and the
police have been sitting outside of your house for a week*.
-If a JO politely requests that you wait calmly while your
attorney attempts to work out a deal and you look at the judge and say: “F**k
YOU!”
-If you get into a fist fight in the courtroom. (Seriously
dude, tuck and roll, that Sheriff will pull the other party off of you in just a tick...)
-Being “animated” and not the charming kind.
-If you didn't show up to court because you: had a warrant/fled the jurisdiction/didn't want to pay.
-If you tell a JO that you don’t intend to “agree” to
anything that happens in his/her courtroom.
-If you don’t pay your child support. For a year. **
-Disrespect a JO
-Disrespect court staff.
-Disrespect another attorney or court staff in front of a JO.
-Any variation on the themes above.
I don’t look good in orange, so I do my best to avoid these
situations. If you dig orange/black and
white horizontal stripes (nobody looks good in that)/a weird khaki color and eating cheese sandwiches please feel free.
However, I hear out of county food is better… it’s a rumor, but I feel pretty
confident it is true.
On a completely unrelated note – When did 40 degrees become summer? Good glory it is a B.E.A.U.tiful day outside!
*“IMPD Surveillance Van” and “IMPD
Surveillance Van – Guest” showing up as wireless options on your ipad for a
week are a reasonable tip off.
**There have been recent reports of a man
“going to jail for paying too much child support”. I’ve seen the news clips and I’ve read the
articles and I feel pretty confident that he was not sent to jail “for paying
too much child support”. My clues which
lead me to that conclusion are as follows: article states that man “walked out of courtroom after
being found in contempt”, the fact that he scrambled to pay $3K right before
the hearing to get “all paid up” and my general courtroom experience. Let me say this, if you are sent to jail in
one of the counties in which we frequently practice, and you have paid AS ORDERED, see one
of the other above reasons as to why you may have landed in a jumpsuit.
Believe it or not,
there is a sign at one of our local courts that advises people that bathing
suits are prohibited. WHAT!??!! You say, “Who could think that a bathing suit
is appropriate attire?”. Trust me, I had
this conversation with my fabulous partner on his first trip to that
court. He absolutely did not believe
that someone would wear a bathing suit to court. Then, the first summer he was working there,
he became a believer.
I saw the sign again the other day and it stuck in my
head. “No bathing suits”.. Sure, most of
us would not think of wearing a bikini to a court. However, there are all kinds of other, less
obvious traps that folks fall into every.single.day. I call them: “Over-dressing your request”,
“Casually uncool” and “What were you thinking?”. Now, these are in the context of the
courtroom ‘cause that’s where I live.
However, they also apply to the work place, the gym place, the street
place, anyplace really. I’m going to hop
up on my soap box again for a wee minute to address some issues. Let’s face it,
I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight unless we do.
Over Dressing –
The most rare of attire faux pas, it does still exist and can cause trouble in
unexpected ways. We all want to look our
best. However, if you are going to ask a
judge to give you a public defender for your criminal case, or to lower your
child support obligation, the choice of a Coach bag, or a Prada belt, or a
baseball cap with the tag still on it will probably not help your cause. The Court does not know if the bag is a knock
off, or the hat was a gift from your Grandma for your birthday, and they are
not likely to ask. I wouldn’t. Also, if there’s the chance that you’re going
to lock up, 15 lbs of jewelry maaaaay be a poor choice. Also, that 3 piece super fine woven silk suit
with matching suede heeled boots? Whoa. Just Whoa.
Under Dressing – Things
that should be off the table for court immediately are: Gym shoes (even shiny
super clean ones), t-shirts, hoodie sweat shirts, non-hoodie sweat shirts,
jogging pants, etc. Torn jeans, whether
you tore them or they came that way. Unless they’re Jeaggings, in which case –
see the next category. While jeans have
gained acceptance in the regular work place and all sorts of previously formal
events, most JO’s still cringe at the sight of them. I know one JO who, afraid that she was being
unreasonable, went to several Goodwill stores around the city to compare prices
for jeans and khaki pants. She
determined that both jeans and khaki pants were priced the same ($3 if you are
curious). She determined, therefore,
that the excuse of “I can’t afford to buy pants that aren’t jeans” would no
longer be accepted. She’s kind of a
genius so I trust her judgment.
We should not even
have to say this – If you can wear it to a night club, a health club, or to
bed, it does not belong beyond courthouse security. If it says “Juicy” anywhere on it, leave it
at home. If you bought them in the
slipper department but they look like regular shoes (I’m not judging, I bought
them too…) don’t even try it. The Court
does not want to know how great your legs are and no, leggings, jeaggings and
opaque tights are not pants. I saw a man
leaving a paternity proceeding recently wearing a t-shirt that said “Not a Role
Model”. I don’t know what he was seeking
in that hearing but you can bet that the judicial officer took his t-shirt as
truth. Also, just because I have to say
it, see through lace shirts with a different color bra, seriously?
Good GRIEF?!?! What
is this world coming to? It is -15
outside and some “gentleman” just bit it in the middle of the street because
his pants were so low that he couldn’t bend his knees to save himself when he
slipped. I don’t know what look he was going
for but “attractive” wasn’t what he put off.
In fact, young fellas, here is a PSA from the ladies: We don’t think
your butt being out in public is attractive.
We don’t think your underwear, whatever the style or label, being out in
public is attractive. Please for the
love of Pete, pull up your pants. Help
me, help you. (Thank you Jerry McGuire that face at the :52 mark? Yeah, I made it about 47 times last week.)
In the words of the
immortal Tony Dungy: “If you sag in the behind, you sag in the mind.” I read that on a poster at the YMCA last
summer, it is catchy. But seriously, please don’t wear a bathing suit to court.
Okay, so he’s not Jesus.
But it applies, I promise.
There is a sizeable debate in Indiana right now and the tone
of it hurts my heart. If you’ve been
living under a rock, there is a bill in the Indiana Legislature (HJR-3) which
would add an amendment to the Indiana State Constitution which would prohibit the
legalization/recognition of same sex marriage in the state of Indiana. Regardless of your stand on the issue, I
think it is fair to say that it is a “heart issue”. What I mean by that is that it isn’t
necessarily something that a person decides on just using reason in the mind,
but often more deeply, without rhyme or articulable reason, the stand rests in
the heart. What hurts mine most in watching this debate unfold is the way I
have heard and read people talk to and about the opposition. Facebook rants about “idiots” on the other
side (and worse), blurbs on the news, in the papers and splashed across my
computer screen. It is not restricted to
one side or the other. There is one
thing though that I don’t see. I don’t
see those tactics changing hearts.
Do we soothe crying babies by screaming at them? No. If
you do, you’ve got bigger problems and will probably be hearing from DCS shortly.
Catch more flies with honey people.
This popped up more in my head more today as I thought about
the passing of Pete Seeger last week-ish. “Who is Pete Seeger?” you ask. I’m appalled.
Pete Seeger is pretty much the coolest cat who ever lived. (Despite some rather
significant ideological differences between us, I mean.) Widely considered to be the father of the
American folk music genre, he wrote, performed or made famous most of the major
protest songs for issues from pre WWII labor disputes, to de-segregation and
Civil Rights, to the Vietnam War, to the Hudson River clean up and even Occupy
Wall Street. You name it, this man took
a polarizing stand, but set it to a tune.
Don’t think you’ve heard of any of his music? Try these on for size:
If I Had a Hammer
This Little Light of Mine
Where Have All the Flowers Gone
We Shall Overcome
Turn, Turn, Turn
This Land is Your Land
These songs moved people.
They inspired others like Peter, Paul and Mary, Woody Guthrie, Bob
Dylan, and countless others. While he
did not always agree with political leadership (and by not always, I don’t
think ever) and he was considered a dissident by some, he was also seen as a
peaceful unifying force for causes that went deep to the heart of the evolving
American culture. He was a persistent,
gentle voice and his music helped change the character of the country. I’m not telling people what to do or where to
stand (and before you send a search party to bring me back from the hippie
commune you think I’ve been whisked away to) I’m just saying, I wonder how
differently this conversation would go if people would stop screaming at each
other and use some different tactics.
I
know, I get paid to advocate, I’m a natural born scrapper. However, there is a time and a place. “To
every season, turn, turn, turn” if you will.
Personally, I would prefer a season that builds us up as a state, and as
a nation, rather than tears us apart. If
Mr. Seeger were still with us, I wonder what he’d sing.
Care to partake in some fabulous American music
history? Give these a try:
So, in the era we’ll call “Pre-practice” I was your typical
suburban gal. I had worked in
Entertainment & Attractions at Paramount’s Kings’ Island for years and I’d
seen some things, but I still tossed out that word “never” a whoooole lot. “That would never happen”, “Never in a
million years”, and “Well, I never…”.
Limited possibilities.
Since
I’ve landed in Neverland, I can honestly say, that the times I use the word “never”
have dwindled significantly. Why? Because, you name it, people do it, it has
happened, and it’s going to happen again.
Probably tomorrow. I’m not
kidding people. As a civilian I would
have spent half of my days looking like this little fella:
What that means is that, things that previously might not
have seemed normal, that a person should maybe not expect to get accustomed to,
are starting to seem common place. Let’s
give a “for instance” or three shall we?
1. Talk shows and celebrities. It no longer surprises me when clients, or potential
clients, mention that a key piece of evidence is either footage of, or tied to
a nationally syndicated talk show or celebrity.
Has Dr. Sally Maury Jerry Judy told you that your mother’s crazy sister
is your brother’s baby’s father and that they can lose 100 lbs in a week?
Yup. Probably. In fact, I once witnessed a practitioner who
was more surprised that a JO (Judicial Officer) did not want to watch some particularly
zaney footage than she was at the fact that the footage existed. You know what? Give it to me, I’ll watch it. I’ll add it to
the stack with the others right after I get off the phone with this woman who
says Jada Pinkett Smith hates her. We did not take that case, but I did hear
myself utter the phrase “Well, I hear Jada is very nice, why would she want to
do something so mean to you?” (Insert your
own PSA for taking your meds.) These things are real. These lives are real. And
I really do think JPS is probably really nice.
She looks nice.
1.‘I didn’t let my child go to his Dad’s for
parenting time because it was raining/snowing/cloudy with a side of meatballs.’ Now, I’ll address this one more in another
post entitled “Things Are More Likely To Get You Sent To Jail” but I bring it
up here to give you an idea of the reasons why people do what they do. To most
people, whatever their reasons for doing something, in their mind, it made
perfect sense. You cannot effectively
convince them that it does not make sense.
Sometimes you have to settle for convincing them that other people could
see it differently or at minimum that even if they think the JO is wrong times
infinity plus another infinity, that they must do as the JO says.
2.I can’t even tell you the really good one. Let’s just say, “dead guy on my desk” and
leave it at that shall we? Totes Magoats
people Totes Magoats.
And, just because I’m a giver, if you’ve been living under a
rock and haven’t seen it, watch this: James Earl Jones is
Amazeballs. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1RWkizigO50
So, during Snowpacolypse 2014 I became a bear. I spent 4 days, inside my home, baking
everything in sight to keep warm. My
butter consumption began to rival Paula Dean’s…pre-diabetes slim down Paula
Dean. I kid you not, peanut butter
cookies, bread, corn chowder (with whole cream), turkey, turkey pot pie…I’m
single so you can imagine this was a problem.
It was beautiful and dangerous and almost as fascinating to watch as the
shows I was binge watching on Netflix.
The problem is that since the great thaw-ish, I still don’t
want to go outside. I go out for work, duck into the courthouse once or thrice
a day, and then speed (within the confines of the local speed limits in my
jurisdiction, Officer) home where I immediately turn back into a bear. A
statute reading, hearing prepping, compulsive email checking bear. With butter.
On a related note: God bless those poor court staff who are
going to have to deal with the fallout from three days of closed courts. (More in some counties.) (Let's face it, there are sprinklings of court closing days weekly now it seems.) For anyone who doesn’t know, courts simply
don’t have days with nothing on the calendars.
Sometime, when I have proper citations, of course, I’ll give you the
exact numbers of cases that each court has going on any given year…today is not
that day. But let’s say, average, a
civil court has 4-5 hearings or meetings on their docket per day, a criminal
court may have 30-40 initial hearings or pre-trial conferences…each with
multiple parties, attorneys, GALs…multiply that by twenty plus courts in Marion
County alone, multiply that chaos by the now rescheduled hearings from closed days…insane. Someone better get
a big ole’ fruit basket from old man winter for Administrative Assistant Day
(April 23, 2014 for those who should be putting it on the calendar right now –
you know who you are).
“It was Father’s Day” – a fairy tale by Cox & Koons
I know, I know, it doesn’t LOOK like Father’s Day outside…
But it was.
On the docket for C&K were three hearings, in the land
of Blynken and Nod.
Potentially, if EVERYTHING went perfectly (she says with a
wry smile) there was a good chance we would walk away feeling like we’d done
some good. Maybe x3 which, as any medical professional can tell you, something
x3 is generally better than x2 but not as good as x4, which, let’s face it no
one truly is. See how convoluted that
was? Yeah, that’s how the day went.
First
out of the gate is the potential to reunite a man with his child whom he hasn’t
seen in quite some time. We were
prepared, we had the evidence copied, the witness prepared, and a pretty darn
good case mind you. Only to be thwarted
on arrival by the dreaded ex parte pro se continuance… doesn’t that just echo like the evil demon it is? Now, for those of y’all that don’t operate in
this area of madness daily, I'll just say, there are rules for how things are supposed to be handled and sometimes, because there are humans involved and humans are imperfect,the rules don't get followed.
In that case, there’s often nothing to be done. The other party knows that it has been
continued so they don’t show up, and the Court has already reset it for the
earliest possible date so it isn’t like there’s an earlier date you can
get. Which means, even though no one on
your side did anything wrong, you’re stuck for the time being, waiting. LOW. That hope that you would do something good
with this case, turns into the nightmare of having to face a former “knight of
the realm” who bursts into tears. I don’t
know if y’all have recently been faced with a military man in tears but it isn’t
a place I like to go. LOW. LOW. LOW.
That one is going to come home with me tonight. It’s going to follow me like a lost puppy and
cry at me in the corner, for a month, until the next court date.
But wait, there’s another chance with hearing number two…CURSES! “A new counsel on the case has entered their
Appearance today and requests a continuance to catch up, move your piece three
spaces back.” It isn’t really Candy Land
but I find that makes the disappointment sound a little more cheerful doesn’t
it? I tell myself that, in this case, at
least this father has his child and we’re “just” fighting over support
money. I say “just” because to a lot of
people that money is a really big deal.
There are cases where someone receives $12 per week, in child support,
for three kids. Anyone priced a Happy
Meal or even Ramen lately? Don’t get me wrong, judicial officers try to think
long and hard about the results each order they enter will have, so I know the
last minute continuances aren’t given lightly.
Lord knows, I’ve been super grateful to get them in the past and will
probably be just as grateful for them in the future, but it is
frustrating. Low again.
One. Last. Bastion of Hope.
There are some cases that just make you want to burst with pride over
your clients. No, we don’t get
emotionally attached to everyone (despite the way this touchy feely post
sounds), but everyone wants to get “the good” client. The one in the relationship who is least
crazy. This case was messy. The “Queen” may have actually previously
uttered words that sounded a lot like “this just became the worst bar exam
question ever” which is saying something because those questions are HORRIBLE. In the CHINS (Children In Need of Services)
case world, the best you can hope for is that the case be “closed” and, with
your client having the child if possible.
More often than anyone likes, that just doesn’t happen. Sometimes
parents cannot get it together, or won’t, and a child is removed permanently. Fathers, in particular, have always had an uphill
battle in seeking custody. (That is
changing, praise God.) Fathers with criminal records or a history with drugs or
instability are starting off in a deep pit before they even get to the hill to
climb up. However, once in a while, you
get that client. That man who is willing
to step up and be the parent that his child can depend on, to battle his demon
dragons and win. So, several hours after
our hearing was scheduled to start we heard those beautiful words: “Case is closed,
child to remain with the father”.
AAAAAANNNNND HIGH.
A good start! BAZINGA!! (There’s probably a trade mark on
that somewhere, we did not make it up…) We’ve
all heard the jokes. Heck, in a former
life, I was a paralegal so I’ve certainly told a few. It was not until I asked for help from
friends and family to come up with a new title for our blog, that I really took
seriously the image of attorneys at large.
A lot of the proposals involved references to vampires, dirt bags,
etc. Don’t get me wrong, they were witty
and very well thought out. I laughed at
a good number of them. But in the end,
it kind of made my heart hurt.
Why?
Because we love our jobs. They’re
stressful and consuming and the rates of alcoholism and depression are
ridiculously high, but overall, when we sit down amongst others in the world’s
second oldest profession, we may not be
the jolliest of folks, but… we.love.our.jobs.
Now, we recognize that most normal people only come into contact with an
attorney during the worst times of their lives.
Understandably, their views are shaped by the outcome of their
case. Here is a tip (it is free): very
very few people are ever 100% happy with the result of any case. Even if they are happy when they leave the
courtroom they become invariably unhappy when they receive the bill for the
work that it took to get them there. No
great surprise, therefore, that attorneys are a hated bunch. So, what sort of insane individual says to
themselves “I would like to grow up to do a job that I will be hated for”? An idealist.
I know, you just spit out your coffee… but here is something the “jury”
does not usually see:
I do
solemnly swear or affirm that: I will support the Constitution of the United
States and the Constitution of the State of Indiana; I will maintain the
respect due to courts of justice and judicial officers; I will not counsel or
maintain any action, proceeding, or defense which shall appear to me to be unjust,
but this obligation shall not prevent me from defending a person charged with
crime in any case; I will employ for the purpose of maintaining the causes
confided to me, such means only as are consistent with truth, and never seek to
mislead the court or jury by any artifice or false statement of fact or law; I
will maintain the confidence and preserve inviolate the secrets of my client at
every peril to myself; I will abstain from offensive personality and advance no
fact prejudicial to the honor or reputation of a party or witness, unless
required by the justice of the cause with which I am charged; I will not
encourage either the commencement or the continuance of any action or
proceeding from any motive of passion or interest; I will never reject, from
any consideration personal to myself, the cause of the defenseless, the
oppressed or those who cannot afford adequate legal assistance; so help me God.
In Indiana, each attorney licensed to practice
law has at one time or another stood in front of the Justices of the Indiana
Supreme Court and likely their friends and family and sworn that oath. That is
a pretty weighty promise. It is one that
CJK and I take extremely seriously. It
hangs on the wall in my office and it challenges me daily. Whatever we may become as attorneys, this is
where we start. For most of us, the practice of law is more a calling than a
vocation, like those called to the mission fields or to the medical
professions. I know, at this point you
are snickering… possibly even thinking “LOL WHAT!?!??!” but think about it, the pay isn’t great
(despite what you may see on such fabulous shows as The
Good Wife, Damages, and Law and Order ((pick a spin off, any spin
off)) – most of us do not have tailored suits, a car service and a perfectly
furnished $$$$$$$$$ condo with skyline views), the hours are awful (not many
elementary school teachers wake up on Christmas Day to 6 angry voicemails from
people who want you to skip opening presents with family to call their
ex/current/spouse/neighbor/boyfriend and tell them that they should have been
somewhere 13 minutes ago) and you spend most of your days arguing with people,
most of whom you probably actually like.
Add to that the $150K plus in student loans that you can’t bankrupt out
of and yes, my dears, I say it is a calling.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not asking for pity, but
I am trying to create some perspective.
This is where I come from, who I am and why I do what I do. It is the perspective I will likely bring to
these blog posts so consider this my super fancy disclaimer… With my oath in
mind, and with the intention to do more good than harm, we begin our foray into
the blogging world. Glad to have you
with us.
