Judicial Fundraisers

 Back when I was actively in practice, we had to donate a LOT to judicial campaigns, and we even hosted several. In Florida, trial court judges are elected (though vacancies are appointed by the Gov), and, though the system is supposed to be free of bias towards cheap ass law firms -- you sort of don't want to be in that number.

One now deceased Judge, who I'll call Alan, since that was his first name (his last name is that of a federal employee), was a hilariously transparent case in point. Paul and I had him on a case where we settled after three mistrials -- it involved a family friend who's daughter lost a tooth in an accident, while her Mom had neck and back injuries. We got her an amazing settlement, and appeared in front of Judge Alan for approval -- since the girl was a teenager. My friend Mike was Guardian ad litem, who blessed our efforts. The Judge decided to grandstand, and said "I ALWAYS cut the fees lawyers earn in minor settlements!" Mike came to our aid, explaining how much work we had put in for the result, and the judge relented, but afterwards the Dad, Arnald, wondered if I was ripping him off. I told him to ask around, and he realized all was kosher.

Paul and I went to see His Honor later, and explained how he had embarrassed us in front of a client who was also a neighbor. To the Judge's credit, he apologized, and asked us to help on his re-election campaign. We did -- raised him well over $10K.

Several years later, we got another case before him -- a sort of comical one -- actually Wifey's favorite tale. A contractor fell through an abandoned A/C shaft in a kosher Miami Beach hotel, and broke both legs as he fell and got stuck a few floors below. He yelled for help, in Spanish. Ethel Rosenblatt (I'm making up her name -- but it was like that) called the front desk and said in her Brooklyn accent "There's a man behind my wall yelling in Spaaaaaaanish." The clerk accused Mrs. Rosenblatt of going too hard on the Manishevitz, but she insisted, and they sent someone up to rescue the poor guy.

Anyway, we filed suit, and, as we always did with our cases, set it for trial fast. Maybe 2 months had passed since the accident. The defense lawyer, who I'll call Mike, since that's his name, filed a Motion for Continuance, and we attended. Mike was totally confident he would win -- I mean -- there hadn't even been time to hire experts or anything. He made his argument. "Denied -- you'll be going to trial in 3 weeks"" boomed His Honor. 

The Court Reporter left, and Mike was incredulous, asking the Judge how he could be serious. "Well, maybe next time my friend Sy (his bag man) comes to visit your office, you won't send him away rudely. David and his partner are gentlemen!" We ended up setting up a mediation the next day and settled the case in record time.

Years later, I recalled that when I saw the T shirt in Key West that read "A good lawyer knows the law. A GREAT lawyer knows the Judge."

Thankfully, we're out of that game, mostly, but my friend Joel's sister Dawn is a friend, and so last night Mike and I attended her fundraiser at Joel's historic Grove mansion. Dawn and her protege, Judge Cristina, are the only 2 we support financially anymore -- because of friendship only.

It was a nice time. I ran into Marta, and old friend and long time School Board Member -- she thanked me for hosting a fundraiser for HER probably 20 years ago. She's 74 and went back to law school at 64 -- she know works in the Juvenile Justice system, and came to the party to support Dawn. It was great catching up with her -- we both recalled a night where my family gathered at her North Gables house and walked to Versailles. She was dating Chris at the time, whose daughter Alex was D1's friend.

I also met Jim, a childhood friend of Norman's, and his wife, from Chicago. We exchanged Chicago tales -- she loved the one I had about Gibson's Steakhouse and Sinatra.

So it was a nice evening, but happily a rare one. Those $500 checks add up...

Tonight we're celebrating D2's birthday a few days late. The plan is for Wifey and me to fetch Little Man at school at 330, and get him, his nanny, brother, and friend Riley all Happy Meals. We'll then hang a bit and have our more expensive happy meals at Sunny's Steakhouse -- one of the hip new places the NY Times profiled recently. I went a few months ago with Dr. Barry. I liked it -- too hip for Barry. He's far more of a populist than I -- I'm surprised he doesn't like Trump more...

And tomorrow I begin 4 nights of bachelerhood -- Wifey decamping to a boutique hotel near Delray for a girl's vacay. I will survive.