In Part One, I told the story from out west of a lawyer who I called Bill. Bill, apparently at the urging of his boss (who had bigger fish to fry), tried to dump a client by making a motion to get off the record a few days before the trial date, and returnable on the trial date. He showed up, having done no trial preparation, and put the client at risk of being ordered to proceed with the trial.
I am going to tell you a true story from out west. The names and a few details have been changed to protect me.
Bill is fairly new to the profession. Bill works for Sue, who has been around quite a while, has a boutique practice, and has made a name for herself handling high profile cases.
“Denial ain’t just a river in Egypt.”
~ Mark Twain
I was speaking to a mom of three children the other day. She drives them to their different schools every morning and ferries them to sports activities after school and on the weekends, while trying to advance her career in the remaining time. She was talking about how difficult it was to stay on top of everything and take care of her own health, but she was pleased that she was somehow managing it all. My response? “Sure, right up to the breakdown.”
My wife likes to tell the story of the first file that she worked on for me when she articled for my firm. (Those were in the days when she did what I told her to do, because I was the boss. Things have changed.)
I had her work on a financing file. Back in the day, financing statements under the Personal Property Security Act were typed on a government form, and submitted over the counter.
I love watching Hallmark romance movies. (Yes, I am a guy.) My wife and former Associate, Maureen McKay, does not. They are too sicky sweet for her taste.
I watch these films because, after a lifetime of stress in the legal profession, I find that thrillers and suspenseful stories trigger my self-diagnosed and made-up condition, Post Professional Stress Syndrome. Formulaic romance movies are predictable, safe, and non-triggering. I can sleep at night after watching them.
I recently observed a transaction from afar. It was the sale of a small retail shop – a tiny deal for a few hundred thousand dollars. The seller was getting out because they had to. There was not a tonne of money to go around.
Coming on three years ago, I wrote about toxic productivity. Among my pithy comments were the following nuggets:
Martin is a lawyer who has closed many residential real estate transactions. Back when he was starting out, Martin read the relevant statutes and regulations and prepared all the documents himself. For each transaction, Martin drafted a Statement of Adjustments, adding numbers in his head. Eventually he used a calculator, and then a software program. Then, he hired a law clerk and taught her how to do it. Should the situation arise where Martin needs to prepare a Statement of Adjustments manually, he can easily do so, because he knows everything that there is to know about them. When a dispute arises as to the accuracy of a Statement of Adjustments, he can resolve it.
Back when I was attending Vanier College in Montreal, I met a girl named Marta who was quite beautiful. I could see myself dating someone like Marta, so I tried to get to know her. I was very happy when Marta told me that she thought that I was a nice guy, she liked me a whole bunch, and she cared very deeply about me.
Back in law school, my criminal law professor told us that our job would be to use every bit of our intelligence, ingenuity, and strength, and to work tirelessly, to deliver the best possible outcome for our client. “But,” he told us, “if at the end of the day, someone has to go to jail, make sure that it is your client.” He was warning us not to become so zealous in our representation of our client that we crossed over the ethical or legal lines.