So there I was, a newly minted English major at UM in 1982, and I figured I'd graduate and then get a PhD in English, and go teach at a university. One of my mentors, Judy, strongly discouraged me from that. It was the tail end of the Baby Boom, and there were few teaching jobs available -- Judy knew of "Harvard PhD grads" waiting tables. Plus, as she said: "You're a nice Jewish boy. You're going to want to support a wife and kids someday, and doing that on a professor's salary won't be easy." She was correct, of course.
But what else could I do with a BA in English, as the wonderful "Avenue Q" song asks? Judy suggested law school. "You read and write critically and well, and law is just words -- it'll be easy for you, and you can get a bunch of different jobs with a J.D." I took her advice, signed up for the LSAT, did pretty well, and figured I'd go to law school -- not because I had any special desire to become a lawyer, but because I , like Richard Gere in "Officer," had "no place else to go!!!!"
I applied and got into UF and UM. UF was probably a better school, and certainly cheaper, but my Dad was only one year gone, and I knew my Mom still needed looking after, and so UM it was.
I disliked most of my classes right away, but stuck it out. I'm glad I did -- indeed it turned out to be a very lucrative career, and it took this "blue collar Jew," as my friend Joel calls my Levittown, LI roots and put me in a very rarified lifestyle.
Within the first year of practicing law, I again knew it wasn't something I loved. The camaraderie of friends working together, and getting paid were nice, but the lawyering itself, with all the back stabbing and dirty dealings, weren't fun at all. I could do it, and did it pretty well, I guess, but never enjoyed it.
The last 15 years I have thankfully been more of a consultant than actual practitioner, and today, as a party, I was reminded just how unpleasant the whole thing can be.
A friend from law school referred a case to my firm. Paul and Stu signed it up, and as it involved the failure of a pediatric ER doc, I got a LOT of advice from Dr. Barry. He suggested a great expert, and Stu filed suit. But Stu was also pretty much over working hard 10 years ago, and when an older friend was looking for a place to practice, Stu brought him in and asked him to be lead counsel on the case.
John was so thankful, and worked hard, and the case resolved for a great result. Ha. As If! John turned out to be like Fredo, which is my new name for him, and he stole the case and took it to a TV advertising firm, whose head, Robert, I call Saul Goodman, after the sleazy character from the show "Breaking Bad" and its spinoff "Better Call Saul."
Well, Saul fired Fredo, but kept the case Fredo had stolen, and settled it for a little more than we could have gotten for it before Fredo stole it. A substantial, though not huge, fee was earned, and Saul said we were entitled to bubkis. So we hired Scott, a bulldog of a lawyer, to collect our just fee. And today was the mediation.
Bottom line --after an hour, Saul and his amazingly unattractive underling Bonnie offered next to nothing. And so now we will litigate, spend thousands of dollars, and eventually end up before the judge who will likely award us exactly what we seek. The problem is, we'll have wasted so much time and costs getting there. But so be it.
It reminded me, strongly, why I dislike the law practice so much. Years ago, I read a true quote: engineers work at making things in life work better and more efficiently; lawyers slow down and clog up life. It is often true.
I actually look forward to giving a deposition, though. I'll follow my lawyer's admonition to not volunteer, keep my answers short and precise...but I know I'll have the chance for some on the record wiseassery. And I intend to enjoy it.
Fredo used to be a friend. In fact, yesterday I gave a ride home from a surgical procedure to my man Norman. Last time I did that, I drove and picked up Fredo. I asked Norman not to thank me by stealing any cases. He agreed, and instead treated me to a delicious dim sum lunch.
Norman still practices full time. I give him credit for having the patience. I think I'd go postal if I had to do more than I do now.
On the other hand, I wonder whether any colleges are looking for overgrown and 61 year old dudes to teach Joyce...
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