Peaceful Thanksgiving meditations (maybe)

I love every week, but Thanksgiving week is my favorite. In the first place, it only contains three work days. And even those days are usually filled with anticipation of the holiday season, resulting in a more relaxed atmosphere than is typical at a law firm. Further, by Wednesday morning people are already getting casual and thinking about leaving. Of course, nobody is at work on Thanksgiving Day, that is, nobody but me. The office on Thanksgiving morning is stone-cold quiet. It is so quiet you can hear the server snoring. I don't even turn on the lights. I just look out of my windows on what is usually a gray sky, sometimes drizzly, or on a good Thanksgiving, snowy. With the hubbub of legal activity in hibernation, the eerie stillness offers a peaceful setting for thankfulness. Sitting at my desk, in the quiet of my office, I am always grateful for the great comforts and rewards the law practice has brought to me and to those I love. Nevertheless, this year, alone in the office, other thoughts started interfering with my peacefulness. For instance, I started ruminating over the fact that today's young lawyers insist upon wearing brown shoes with blue and gray suits. Who told them they can dress like that? The "fashion" seems to be quickly spreading, other than to respectable, "older" lawyers, who would never wear anything other than black shoes with a gray or blue suit. And why doesn't anyone wear argyle socks anymore? From ratty brown (usually unpolished and often scuffed) shoes, my thoughts raced to a time when there was no such thing as "Casual Friday." Maybe there's no such thing as "Casual Friday" anymore, as everything is way too casual these days. I was in a deposition just the other day, and sadly, I was the only lawyer wearing a tie (the female wasn't wearing one, but that's a topic for another column). When lawyers show up in court, they wear ties out of respect for our American justice system and the important role we contribute to it. The same should be the case during depositions. One of the senior lawyers in my firm is named John Fox Arnold. A past president of the State Bar, each day when Mr. Arnold comes to work - no matter what he's got going on that day - he is wearing a suit and tie. By the way, I like it when lawyers have three names. Another thing I don't understand is lawyers wearing blue jeans to work during casual days in the summer. Everyone knows that blue jeans are clearly not for the summer, so why are they wearing them? One more thing I thought about Thanksgiving morning is why do lawyers put diplomas on the walls of their law offices. I know most of them do, including many of my partners, but it seems silly. If you graduated from Harvard Law School - okay, I understand that - I get what's going on there. Maybe if I had graduated from Harvard I would put my diploma on the wall, and maybe even light it up, but not otherwise. I hope it is obvious to my clients that I have a law degree without me having to display proof on the wall. And anyway, I really don't think a lawyer having a diploma from Podunk U, down in the southern part of the state, is going to impress anybody. I'm thinking it should be the lawyer's legal work that impresses clients. Besides, there are so many better things to put on our office walls. For instance, I have a picture of me swinging from a vine high above the equatorial jungle. That picture, in and of itself, demonstrates that I'm going to be a tough, fearless lawyer. I also have blowups of editorial cartoons that were drawn about some of my cases. That shows I inspire people. I even have a picture of me standing atop a big earth mover, posing in front of a lit up billboard urging my fellow lawyers not to vote for me in the coming bar election. That shows I have a good sense of humor in the face of challenges. I also have pictures in my office of me with politicians that show I can get things done. Okay, it really shows I paid money to attend the fundraisers, but that doesn't dawn on most people. My office is full of odd things I have gathered from around the world that display the broad nature of my experiences, which surely demonstrates the breadth of my wisdom as a counselor. Further, my credenza is littered with souvenirs from big cases, such as signed footballs from star clients, and even the football helmet that was worn by my client when he was paralyzed and stopped breathing on the football field in Detroit one Christmas day. That incident resulted in the first football helmet case. My office also has a slogan or two littered around it like "There's only now" or "Sometimes I believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast." These are important, subliminal messages to the associates I give difficult research assignments to. I also have pictures of my dogs, my family members, and my new wife. I don't have any pictures of former, lawyer wife around the office. By the way, I am thankful for my new wife. Another thing I don't get is why when I am talking to one of my fellow lawyers and he or she wants to get off the phone, they say, "I'll let you go." That phrase offends me. What it means is they want to go, and they're trying to put the blame on me. Worse yet, they are acting like they are doing me a favor! I'm not falling for that trick. I should add that while in the office this Thanksgiving there were a couple of things I started missing. I wanted to light up a cigar as a catalyst for my contemplations, but I didn't dare. I did that last Thanksgiving, and boy, did I catch it! You could smoke cigars in law offices in the old days and, in fact, it seemed the perfect place to smoke a cigar. Nowadays, if you just suck on a cigar, alone in your office, when people report back to work - even if it's several days later - they start yelling about some sort of nasty smell. I don't get it, since cigars obviously smell so good. Another thing I was thinking about missing was hearing war stories from the old guys. I loved those stories about the Titans facing off with very little discovery - so called trial by ambush - and the surprising things that would happen during their trials. It seems like it's about my turn now to be one of the old guys, but to tell you the truth, telling war stories doesn't make me feel that good. It makes me feel old. And, besides, I can't make up trial stories as well as the ones they used to make up - with cigars in their mouths. ----- 2018 Under Analysis, LLC. Under Analysis is a nationally syndicated column of the Levison Group. Mark Levison is a member of the law firm Lashly & Baer, P.C. Contact Under Analysis by e-mail at comments@levisongroup.com.c Published: Fri, Dec 07, 2018