Old Dogs

When I was a young lawyer, they were called old dogs. These were the older lawyers who could be seen every day, hanging around the courthouse. I didn’t invent the term “old dogs” but it certainly seemed to fit.

These old dogs had a certain look to them. Later I would find out that these “old dog” lawyers were not as old as I thought they were. Instead I learned that almost all trial lawyers look older than their chronological age.

The old dogs shunned the spotlight. Or perhaps they once sought it but gave up on the search. In any event, the old dogs were different than the prima donna lawyers of the trial world. The prima donnas operated from large luxurious offices, had publicists and huge staffs. The prima donnas also hired associate lawyers who would cover most of the court calls. In fact the appearance of a prima donna lawyer in court was a rare event, usually associated with a trial and a high-profile one at that.

And so if one wanted to spot a prima donna lawyer, the best place to do so was at an expensive restaurant at lunchtime. In contrast, the old dogs could be found in the courtroom cafeteria during the late morning hours. Usually they were having coffee with other old dogs.

The old dogs were not incompetent. To the contrary, they were journeymen. Unlike us young lawyers, they had been around the block again and again and again. On the other hand, they didn’t seem to be cutting edge.

The old dogs also seemed to care less about their appearance than the younger lawyers. They were not slobs, but they were not slaves to fashion either. And when an old dog removed a file from his briefcase, it usually consisted of a tattered manila jacket jammed with papers. Sometimes the volume of documents crammed into the file would cause the jacket to tear open at the side. But instead of transferring the documents to a new folder, the old dog would simply repair the side of the jacket with tape. Often the old dog’s name and address were preprinted on the folder, usually in the middle near the bottom. I always figured that if an old dog lost a file, this was how he would get it back.

Most of the old dogs represented personal injury plaintiffs. And because I was a young insurance defense lawyer, I had occasion to visit many of the old dogs at their offices when I presented my clients for depositions. Typically the old dogs would locate their offices in old buildings not far from the courthouse. And the old dogs tended to be sole practitioners. Yes they might have an assistant, but otherwise they worked for themselves.

Sometimes the furniture in an old dog’s office looked like it had been purchased from the Salvation Army. Their bookshelves were frequently filled with paperback advance sheets because the old dogs saw no point in wasting money to buy hardbound volumes that contained the very same cases. And the pictures that hung on their walls were old, dated and often had some kind of legal theme.

At times it seemed like the old dog lawyers had boarded a train that just wouldn’t make any stops to let them off. I say this because the old dogs never seemed to retire. But they did die. This would usually be followed by a pleasant obituary for the old dog in a legal newspaper that only other lawyers read. I always wondered what happened to the old dog, now dead dog’s tattered files. I assumed that they eventually worked their way over to the office of another old dog.

The judges treated the old dogs differently than us young lawyers. We pups were constantly being yelled at for our incompetence. But the old dogs were treated with tolerance and even a certain level respect. Maybe this was because many old dogs were older than the judges who heard their cases. Or perhaps the judges feared that a tirade might give an old dog a heart attack.

Next year I will have been practicing law for 34 years. I am a solo practitioner. I have no partners, but I do have an assistant. My office is in an old building across the street from court. I have now commuted, by train, to and from downtown Chicago on over fifteen thousand occasions. I refuse to buy a PDA. I am older than many of the judges who hear my cases and they treat me with respect. I am a journeyman and I know what I am doing. So have I become an old dog? I don’t think so. Times have changed and things are different now. But I can’t quite put my finger on why.

Pandorum

This has to be the worst film of 2009, possibly forever. Zero stars. I wish I could buy the last two hours of my life back. Yes, when I am on my deathbed and the sand in the hourglass is running out, I am going to be thinking of the time that I wasted on this film. Even Ed Wood would have given this film a "thumbs down." Plan Nine from Outer Space is Citizen Kane compared to this monumental waste of celluloid.

What was this film about? I have no idea. It takes place on a large spaceship and whenever anybody talks, there is an echo. The film should have come with subtitles, but I doubt that subtitles would have been enough to save it. The little bit of dialogue that I did pick up made no sense. Then there is some confusion and fighting. People walk around the giant spaceship. A couple of people eat living grasshoppers that are supposedly a good source of protein. Weird weapons are pointed at people's necks. People are put in tubes. There are some jumpy, pale, threatening, demonic zombie-type creatures who resemble the ones that gave Will Smith so much trouble in I Am Legend. They are supposed to be scary, but all I wanted them to do was finish off the main characters so that I could leave the theater and go home.

It is reported that the budget for this film was $40,000,000.00. A good piece of humanity could have been fed for that $40,000,000.00, not to mention the time that could have been saved from peoples' lives.

Dennis Quaid was in this film and it looks like all of his scenes must have been shot in a day. His performance seems to be phoned in, but at least it was a performance. I wonder how much Dennis got paid to appear in this turkey. Not much, I bet.

I am always interested in films starring Dennis Quaid. He has had some good films but he does not appear - well - selective in the roles that he takes. But he does have a name that at least the public recognizes. And so I sometimes wonder if film producers look at the big movie stars and their salaries, then keep lowering their sites until eventually they sign Dennis Quaid.

By the way, I intensely dislike texting - especially when people pull out their cell phones in a theater and start sending and receiving texts during the middle of a movie. Well there was a lot of texting going on in tonight's audience. But for the first time in my life, I wished that I also knew how to text.

Health Care & Socialism

President Obama’s desire to bring some form of universal health care to the United States has been greeted with resistance and may be doomed for failure. The question that remains to be answered is a simple one. Why?

Approximately fifty million people in the United States have no type of health insurance whatsoever. The rest of us have to deal with HMO’s, PPO’s, insurance adjusters making medical decisions that overrule our doctors, claim denials, exhaustion of benefits and exclusions for pre-existing conditions. If we can jump over all these hurdles, we might get our insurance company to pay something. But don’t count on it. Check the court docket in any big city and you will see hospitals suing the major health insurance carriers for payment of assigned benefits. Why do so few wish to escape from this prison?

Health care is a fundamental right in virtually every other civilized country on the planet. It would seem that only the United States is lagging behind. It is curious that the Constitution would provide us with freedom of speech, freedom of religion, the right to a lawyer, the right to a jury trial and apparently even the right to keep a gun in our homes, but include no right to receive fundamental healthcare. Apparently the Founding Fathers, with all of their wisdom, never saw this one coming.

Of course the solution to this mess is relatively simple, and that is to make Medicare available to everybody. And it doesn’t even have to be free. Those under 65 can pay premiums, just like we are already doing to the private insurance companies who refuse to pay our claims. And if you don’t want to buy “government” insurance - if you are satisfied with the coverage and service being provided to you by the No-Pay HMO of Bumfolk, then by all means stay with the No-Pay HMO of Bumfolk. But please allow some of us to purchase this “government” insurance that supposedly nobody wants

The following are the most prominent arguments that have been presented to date that prevents the Sipsa family from buying into Medicare:

(a) Government operation of a health insurance company would amount to “socialism.”

(b) A government operated insurance company would surely be bureaucratic and inefficient;

(c) Private insurance companies could not compete with a government operated healthcare system.

Quite obviously (b) and (c) are contradictory concepts. If a publicly owned health insurance company was truly bureaucratic and inefficient, then private insurers should have no problem providing formidable competition. But would a government operated insurance company truly be bureaucratic and inefficient? For all of its purported problems, I have not heard a single senior citizen tell me that he or she wishes to give up Medicare.

That leaves only one remaining argument, that a government operated health insurance company would drive the United States into a socialist nightmare, complete with healthcare rationing and “death panels.” But since most health care tends to be provided near the end of life and since most of these health care recipients are already being covered by Medicare, why isn’t the rationing and “death panels” already in place? To the contrary, Ray Sipsa’s mother underwent coronary bypass and valve replacement surgery at the age of 83. It was paid for by – you guessed it – Medicare.

Frankly, this “socialism” argument has me scratching my head. The Sipsa family lives in Elk Grove Village, Illinois – a predominantly Republican community. Yet the Elk Grove Park District operates a water park called “Rainbow Falls” for which it charges admission. When a governmental entity operates a water park, is that “socialism?” And if so, where is the outcry? Incidentally, the very same park district operates a health club, a golf course, a theme park for children and a banquet hall. Yes, socialism is rampant in Elk Grove Village, Illinois.

But we are not alone. One of our suburban neighbors is the Village of Schaumburg. In 1999 Socialist Schaumburg built a ballpark to lure a minor league baseball team that continues to play there to this very day. Can you imagine such a thing?

And as I write these words I am traveling on a commuter train. The train is operated by METRA, which is an acronym for Metropolitan Rail - a governmental entity. This train used to be operated by the Milwaukee Road, which was a private company. Unfortunately the Milwaukee Road was losing money until government came to the rescue. Now instead of driving to downtown Chicago in my private car, on a congested expressway, wasting the national's dwindling gas supply, I am typing on my computer as I enjoy socialist air conditioning.

The Chicago White Sox play baseball at U.S. Cellular Field. But the U.S. Cellular Corporation doesn’t own a brick at the ballpark that bears its name. Instead U.S. Cellular Field is owned by a governmental entity that sold off the naming rights.

The Chicago Wolves play hockey at the Allstate Arena, the naming rights having been acquired by the Allstate Insurance Company. But the stadium is actually owned by the Village of Rosemont. Apparently socialism doesn’t bother the insurance industry if they can paste their logo on it.

And we still have public schools to educate our children. Is that socialism? The state also operates the University of Illinois as well as other institutes of advanced learning. Is that socialism?

Yes, socialism is taking over the United States of America.

God help us all.

Lies

Today I am thinking about lies. And lying.

When I was growing up all those years ago, my parents taught me never to lie. There was only one exception: a white lie could be told if necessary to avoid hurting someone. And so I could tell grandpa that he looked good in his striped shirt and plaid pants. I could tell Aunt Lilly that she was as beautiful as ever and that she was not gaining weight.

On the surface, telling the truth would seem to be good advice. Unfortunately it only works if everybody is on board the same train. In any event, lying has become socially acceptable. We have come to expect it.

The American courtroom is practically a Petri dish for lies. In Courtroom 101, the plaintiff is claiming that he had the green light. But wait, the defendant insists that it was he who had the light Somebody is lying and the jury must choose. But lying under oath is perjury, a felony. So will the loser be prosecuted? No. Does anybody care? Not really.

I’ve watched the television drama House on a handful of occasions. The protagonist of the show is a doctor. His philosophy seems to be that everybody lies. He says this repeatedly. His world even seems to be built on this premise. And his world works. The sad truth is that just about everybody lies.

But when did all this lying start? I don’t know. Maybe Bill Clinton told the biggest, most high profile lie of modern times. One might even say that lying reached a new level of acceptability under President Bill. After all, how does one tell one’s children not to lie when the president is doing it? One could almost say that President Clinton’s lies about the Monica Lewinski affair marked the B.C. / A.D. moment on the world’s calendar of lying.

Of course none of the president’s lies hurt his popularity with the American people. Bill Clinton seemed to be a good president and a likeable guy. I’ll admit it; I liked him too. If anything, his popularity soared even after he was caught lying. The rationale seemed to be that if the president (or any other person) was caught in an illicit sexual affair, he couldn’t be expected to tell the truth about it. No, of course not. He would have to lie

And so let be borrow a bit from that fictional character, Gordon Gekko. Lying is good. Lies work. Even when one believes that the ax will fall, lying will at least buy one some time – an hour, a day, whatever. And more often than not, the ax doesn’t fall at all. A husband lies to his wife. What can she do about it? Not much. A wife lies to her husband. What can he do about it? Not much. And if we were to put all of our liars in jail, there would not be enough people left on the outside to work and feed all of the new prisoners.

In the end, telling the truth is like doing the speed limit. It’s the right thing to do, but you almost look foolish doing it.

Now please somebody: teach me how to lie.