Bar Dues

So my annual statement came today, from the Florida Bar. It costs $265 for a year of practicing law. You also have to swear you either perform pro bono work, or contribute to a legal aid charity. I reflected back to the Fall of 1986, when my friends waited anxiously for news from the Bar -- did we pass the exam? 80% of us did, but we still wanted to hear the good news. My friend Mike's father Ed was my mentor. He did appellate work, and was good friends with the Supreme Court Clerk, Sid White. I sat in my office one October afternoon, and Ed called. "A (he always called me by my last name) -- congratulations! You got your license to steal!" I confirmed that Mike passed, which he also did, as well as the fates of several of our buddies. All now had the coveted license. I called Wifey, and then my mother. I remember thinking she was an old lady -- and she was all of 66 -- just 3 years older than my partner Paul now is. Then again -- my boss Dan's staff had a surprise birthday party for him -- he turned 40. I remember thinking what a fossil he was, too. My friend at the big firms got to wait until the official swearing in ceremony -- at the Third District Court of Appeal. As soon as I told Dan I had passed -- he had his secretary Marcy, who was a notary, swear me in. "Great!," he bellowed. "Now you can go cover that damn 8am hearing tomorrow in front of that crazy Jew Phil Bloom." Dan was a proud anti semite -- he said he hired me because he thought I was German - not Jewish. I was glad to have the job, though, and time wounded that heel. He suffered a bad stroke and had to quit the practice early, though he remains a hated member of his country club -- he cheats at golf. I still attended the swearing in with my classmates. I'm still close with Mike, and Norman, and Jeff from the class, and good acquaintances with several other members. Jeff quit the practice in 1994 -- the year I started my firm. Norman and Mike are at the top of their game. Ed died young, in 1994. 27 years in this strange profession -- I recall having to ask where to file papers in the Dade Courthouse. Now filing is electronic, and I have to rely on the staff to do it. As I opened the dues envelope today, my roommate Mark was walking by. He's a very well respected criminal defense lawyer. He's in his mid 60s, and still wears a beautifully tailored suit each day. "Oh," he said "time to renew the licenses to steal?" I smiled and agreed.