What is the meaning of life? And will I discover it before I leave this planet? How many people more intelligent than I have been down this path before me? The meaning of life: the world’s greatest unsolved mystery.
And yet some claim to have figured it out. For example, I have heard that the meaning of life lies in procreation and the continuation of the species. But how mundane and uninspiring is that? Is that all there is? I have also heard that the meaning of life can be found by singing Hosannas to Jesus. But that doesn’t make any sense to me either.
Indeed, I have struggled with religion. Yes I believe that “God” exists in some kind of cosmic sense. What I do not accept is an invisible, bearded man in the sky who spoke only to the ancients, who then authored holy and infallible books while simultaneously believing that the world was flat. I do not believe that the world is 6,000 years old. I do not believe that man coexisted with dinosaurs. I believe that it is dangerous to even entertain such nonsense.
What I do believe is that the “theory” of evolution is beyond challenge. Yes, the verdict is now in. Even at life’s tiniest level, bacteria evolve from day to day, placing mankind in a constant struggle to create antibiotics that will keep us one step ahead of disaster.
On the other hand, I do have an instinctive sense that “God” provides divine inspiration. Perhaps mankind’s most moving musical piece is the Ninth Symphony, but it was written by Ludwig Von Beethoven when he was totally deaf. Indeed, anything that we call art seems to have its roots buried in some kind of divine plane.
Perhaps the meaning of life cannot be stated in words. Perhaps the meaning of life must simply be felt in order to be experienced. Perhaps it is revealed in great books that challenge the order of things. Catcher in the Rye, The Grapes of Wrath. Or in great films: Cinema Paradiso, 2001 A Space Odyssey.
But whenever I feel that I am coming close to grasping the meaning of life, it somehow slips away. Perhaps to contemplate the meaning of life, we have to release our minds to a higher, esoteric level and abandon the rules of life that have been ingrained in us since childhood. The ways of the world have been taught to us since we emerged from the womb. But without challenge, they may also mark the prison from which we have to escape.
For example, the ancients thought that the earth was the center of the universe. And why not? And from our position on the ground, it certainly looks that way - except for the seemingly erratic movement of what we now know to be planets. But in the middle ages, planets were just pesky little stars that just wouldn’t stay put. Of course such movement is easily explained by challenging the order of things; that the earth is just another planet revolving around the sun. But once upon a time, that was not something you would want to say in public.
For the past century or so, we have viewed religion and science as being at odds with on another. And guess what? They are. The creation of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden now seems much less plausible than the existence of genetic blueprints and DNA. But truth has its own beauty, and so in the end, I suspect it will be scientists rather than theologians who will unlock the mystery of “God.” Someday we may even unlock the mystery of aging and conquer death itself. But I am sixty years old and such a discovery is unlikely to happen before I need it.
No, I will die and presumably meet my maker. Since I’ve lived a fairly good life, I expect to obtain admission to this place called heaven. And once that happens, I have a plan. I’m going to hang around the Pearly Gates and acquire a feel for the lay of the land. Sooner or later St. Peter is going to need to take a break. When that happens, I’m going to swing the gates wide open.
Good news everybody. You’re all getting in.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Saturday, May 1, 2010
DINER
There is a certain kind of diner that keeps appearing in the movies.
The layout of the diner is always the same. The diner is long and narrow. It is always on a commercial street and the length of the diner runs parallel with the street. It is invariably marked by a bright, neon sign. In the movies, it is usually raining when a customer enters the diner.
The insider of the diner is separated by an aisle. On one side of the aisle are booths. The booths extend the entire length of the diner and they face the windows. Everybody sitting at a booth has a clear view of the street outside. On the other side of the aisle is a counter. The counter also runs the entire length of the diner. Customers who are flying solo sit on stools and are served by a uniformed waitress on the opposite side of the counter. In the movies, she is always pouring coffee. She also writes the customer's order down on a tablet. She tears the top page off the tablet and puts it on a carousel, where a cook grabs it and fills the order. Later this very same piece of paper serves as a bill or check. Nobody needs a computer in these places and one senses that the IRS doesn't care much about the money coming in or going out. The food is probably good and maybe the IRS agents eat there. They don't want to shut it down.
I am aware of no diners of this type in the Chicagoland area.
The layout of the diner is always the same. The diner is long and narrow. It is always on a commercial street and the length of the diner runs parallel with the street. It is invariably marked by a bright, neon sign. In the movies, it is usually raining when a customer enters the diner.
The insider of the diner is separated by an aisle. On one side of the aisle are booths. The booths extend the entire length of the diner and they face the windows. Everybody sitting at a booth has a clear view of the street outside. On the other side of the aisle is a counter. The counter also runs the entire length of the diner. Customers who are flying solo sit on stools and are served by a uniformed waitress on the opposite side of the counter. In the movies, she is always pouring coffee. She also writes the customer's order down on a tablet. She tears the top page off the tablet and puts it on a carousel, where a cook grabs it and fills the order. Later this very same piece of paper serves as a bill or check. Nobody needs a computer in these places and one senses that the IRS doesn't care much about the money coming in or going out. The food is probably good and maybe the IRS agents eat there. They don't want to shut it down.
I am aware of no diners of this type in the Chicagoland area.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Covenant Marriage (And Divorce)
It is my understanding that States of Louisiana, Arizona and Arkansas allow for a second, super-duper form of marriage called “Covenant Marriage.” While I am no expert on such things, I understand that couples opting for Covenant Marriage are really stuck with one another because the grounds for divorce in a Covenant Marriage are much fewer.
In theory at least, Covenant Marriage is really wedlock.
In 2001 the Census Bureau announced that the average length of a first marriage in the United States was about 8 years. Supposedly the overall divorce rate for all first marriages was somewhere around 40%. But here is an interesting statistic: the 30% level was not reached until the 18th year of marriage and the 40% level was only approached by the 50th year of marriage.
Fifty year-old marriages going down the tubes. Is nothing sacred? I guess not.
Incredibly the divorce rate for second and third marriages is even higher, suggesting we are either an unsatisfied or masochistic species.
Anyway, Covenant Marriage will supposedly put an end to all of this roaming. Or will it?
You see lawyers and judges know something that most of the general population does not: divorce in America is an illusion. Just as the marriage was never permanent, neither is the divorce. Divorce simply redefines the relationship between the parties rather than end it. In other words, no handcuffs are taken off when the judge signs the decree. Instead the case is assigned to a post-decree courtroom where the fighting and name-calling will continue in a different forum. The divorced couples continue to wear handcuffs. The only difference is that they have a referee.
So instead of “Covenant Marriage” I am now proposing a new legal concept: Covenant Divorce.
In Covenant Divorce, the handcuffs truly come off. There will no longer be any contact whatsoever between the formerly married parties. None. No visits, no phone calls, no e-mails, no texts. All prohibited.
Just peace, quiet and everybody going on with their lives.
In theory at least, Covenant Marriage is really wedlock.
In 2001 the Census Bureau announced that the average length of a first marriage in the United States was about 8 years. Supposedly the overall divorce rate for all first marriages was somewhere around 40%. But here is an interesting statistic: the 30% level was not reached until the 18th year of marriage and the 40% level was only approached by the 50th year of marriage.
Fifty year-old marriages going down the tubes. Is nothing sacred? I guess not.
Incredibly the divorce rate for second and third marriages is even higher, suggesting we are either an unsatisfied or masochistic species.
Anyway, Covenant Marriage will supposedly put an end to all of this roaming. Or will it?
You see lawyers and judges know something that most of the general population does not: divorce in America is an illusion. Just as the marriage was never permanent, neither is the divorce. Divorce simply redefines the relationship between the parties rather than end it. In other words, no handcuffs are taken off when the judge signs the decree. Instead the case is assigned to a post-decree courtroom where the fighting and name-calling will continue in a different forum. The divorced couples continue to wear handcuffs. The only difference is that they have a referee.
So instead of “Covenant Marriage” I am now proposing a new legal concept: Covenant Divorce.
In Covenant Divorce, the handcuffs truly come off. There will no longer be any contact whatsoever between the formerly married parties. None. No visits, no phone calls, no e-mails, no texts. All prohibited.
Just peace, quiet and everybody going on with their lives.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
A BIG F***ING DEAL
This has been a very good week for me.
First, my daughter has been accepted into three graduate schools including the school that had been her first choice. She will also receive a prestigious scholarship. Now she can march forward with her goal to become a clinical psychologist. Most of all, she wants to help people and improve the world. What would be better than that?
Second, Barack Obama, finally became presidential with both the health care reform victory and the arms reduction treaty with Russia. At last I am seeing the man that I voted for. His autographed photograph hangs in my office and is not coming down anytime soon.
To borrow a bit from Joe Biden, this has been a good f***ing week.
First, my daughter has been accepted into three graduate schools including the school that had been her first choice. She will also receive a prestigious scholarship. Now she can march forward with her goal to become a clinical psychologist. Most of all, she wants to help people and improve the world. What would be better than that?
Second, Barack Obama, finally became presidential with both the health care reform victory and the arms reduction treaty with Russia. At last I am seeing the man that I voted for. His autographed photograph hangs in my office and is not coming down anytime soon.
To borrow a bit from Joe Biden, this has been a good f***ing week.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Gerry Spence
Perhaps the greatest living trial lawyer in America is Gerry Spence of Jackson, Wyoming.
But why is this the case? What is Spence’s special gift? How did Gerry Spence become to trial practice what Albert Einstein was once to physics?
Reasonable minds might disagree on the source of Spence’s courtroom talent. Some point to his strong personality and imposing physical presence. Others believe that Spence’s power lies in his deep voice, which he plays like a musical instrument. Then there is Spence’s use of psychodrama as a trial preparation tool. Perhaps all of these have played some role in his success. But I think Spence’s genius lies in his creativity. He always seems to find a unique and different way of looking at a case. Then he communicates his vision so effectively to the jury that they are compelled to share in it. Gerry Spence never loses.
The truth is that most lawyers try cases in a very predictable manner. Their minds have been programmed to work that way. They prepare for trial in almost an assembly line fashion, much in the same way that cars are built. Yes, they might have been told the value of storytelling and the necessity of developing a trial theme, but often the chosen theme is so obvious and predictable that a fifth grader could have thought of it while walking home from school. Gerry Spence never makes this mistake. His themes are custom designed. They invoke emotions of righteous indignation. They are arrows to the heart.
Gerry Spence once tried a case against McDonalds in Chicago that involved the breach of an oral agreement for the sale of ice cream cones. Most lawyers probably would have turned that case down. Who in this day and age could even imagine the concept of an oral agreement involving millions of dollars? To the contrary, we live in a time in which important contracts are not only reduced to writing but have grown to the length of short novels, rife with definitions, obligations, exceptions to the obligations and then exceptions to the exceptions. To suggest the existence of an oral agreement with a major corporation the size of McDonalds almost hinted of naivety. But Spence looked at the issue in a different way. He reached into the past, to a time when a man’s word was considered to be his bond. And then he asked the jury to “put honor back into a handshake.” They did: $52,000,000.00 worth. It was, at the time, the highest verdict in the history of the State of Illinois.
More recently Gerry Spence defended attorney Geoffrey Fieger, who stood accused of violating campaign contribution laws. It was claimed that Fieger illegally circumvented federal limits on campaign contributions by having other people make donations to the John Edward’s presidential campaign, after which Fieger would provide reimbursement for the donations. The trial judge ruled that this amounted to a violation of the law, and on the surface at least, the case seemed incapable of defense. But as usual, Spence found the Achilles heel. No crime could have been committed if Fieger did not know that he was violating the law. And there was nothing in the language of the Act that specifically prohibited reimbursement. From this chip in the armor, Spence built his defense. He compared the prosecution to a police officer writing tickets to motorists for disobeying traffic signs that did not have anything written upon them. He talked about housewives, without any income, being prosecuted for making political donations to candidates simply because their husbands gave them the money to do so. He compared the government’s over-zealous arrest of Fieger to the now discredited “shock and awe” invasion of Iraq in 2003. He noted that many decisions of the United States Supreme Court were decided by a five to four vote, suggesting that reasonable minds can disagree as to a law’s meaning. Not surprisingly, Fieger was acquitted on all counts.
Of course this all leads to a bigger question of whether creativity can be taught, and learned. I don’t know the answer. But I do know that to the trial lawyer, creativity is life’s golden goose.
But why is this the case? What is Spence’s special gift? How did Gerry Spence become to trial practice what Albert Einstein was once to physics?
Reasonable minds might disagree on the source of Spence’s courtroom talent. Some point to his strong personality and imposing physical presence. Others believe that Spence’s power lies in his deep voice, which he plays like a musical instrument. Then there is Spence’s use of psychodrama as a trial preparation tool. Perhaps all of these have played some role in his success. But I think Spence’s genius lies in his creativity. He always seems to find a unique and different way of looking at a case. Then he communicates his vision so effectively to the jury that they are compelled to share in it. Gerry Spence never loses.
The truth is that most lawyers try cases in a very predictable manner. Their minds have been programmed to work that way. They prepare for trial in almost an assembly line fashion, much in the same way that cars are built. Yes, they might have been told the value of storytelling and the necessity of developing a trial theme, but often the chosen theme is so obvious and predictable that a fifth grader could have thought of it while walking home from school. Gerry Spence never makes this mistake. His themes are custom designed. They invoke emotions of righteous indignation. They are arrows to the heart.
Gerry Spence once tried a case against McDonalds in Chicago that involved the breach of an oral agreement for the sale of ice cream cones. Most lawyers probably would have turned that case down. Who in this day and age could even imagine the concept of an oral agreement involving millions of dollars? To the contrary, we live in a time in which important contracts are not only reduced to writing but have grown to the length of short novels, rife with definitions, obligations, exceptions to the obligations and then exceptions to the exceptions. To suggest the existence of an oral agreement with a major corporation the size of McDonalds almost hinted of naivety. But Spence looked at the issue in a different way. He reached into the past, to a time when a man’s word was considered to be his bond. And then he asked the jury to “put honor back into a handshake.” They did: $52,000,000.00 worth. It was, at the time, the highest verdict in the history of the State of Illinois.
More recently Gerry Spence defended attorney Geoffrey Fieger, who stood accused of violating campaign contribution laws. It was claimed that Fieger illegally circumvented federal limits on campaign contributions by having other people make donations to the John Edward’s presidential campaign, after which Fieger would provide reimbursement for the donations. The trial judge ruled that this amounted to a violation of the law, and on the surface at least, the case seemed incapable of defense. But as usual, Spence found the Achilles heel. No crime could have been committed if Fieger did not know that he was violating the law. And there was nothing in the language of the Act that specifically prohibited reimbursement. From this chip in the armor, Spence built his defense. He compared the prosecution to a police officer writing tickets to motorists for disobeying traffic signs that did not have anything written upon them. He talked about housewives, without any income, being prosecuted for making political donations to candidates simply because their husbands gave them the money to do so. He compared the government’s over-zealous arrest of Fieger to the now discredited “shock and awe” invasion of Iraq in 2003. He noted that many decisions of the United States Supreme Court were decided by a five to four vote, suggesting that reasonable minds can disagree as to a law’s meaning. Not surprisingly, Fieger was acquitted on all counts.
Of course this all leads to a bigger question of whether creativity can be taught, and learned. I don’t know the answer. But I do know that to the trial lawyer, creativity is life’s golden goose.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
The 88th Best American Film Ever Made
Yesterday I attended a screening of the film Easy Rider. Peter Fonda, the star, producer and co-writer of the film was there.
Going to this screening, I could not help but wonder if Easy Rider has stood the test of time. After all, it is ranked by the American Film Institute as 88th in its list of the greatest American movies ever made. But Easy Rider debuted in 1969, over 40 years ago. To say that times have changed would be a gross understatement. And so, in the end, the short answer is “no.” Easy Rider is a good but not great film.
As everybody knows, Peter Fonda and Dennis Hopper are the anti-heroes in Easy Rider. They play two young drug-dealing potheads who have made a big score. Now they are making a cross-country excursion from California to Florida where they intend to retire. Along the way they meet a variety of characters, some interesting, some not and some simply strange.
But the music is very good and the cinematography is actually outstanding. Particularly compelling are the scenes of Fonda and Hopper driving their choppers on two-lane blacktop often oblivious to the majestic beauty of America, which serves as a spectacular backdrop to their journey.
On the way they meet a farmer with a large family. They make some small talk over dinner about a man doing his own thing in his own time. Next they visit a commune, but it is the kind of place where I wouldn't last for even an hour. They are given a tablet of LSD to quarter and to use at the right time with the right people.
Next they crash a parade and wind up getting arrested. Apparently the cops don't discover the tablet of acid or the money that has been hidden in the tank of Fonda's motorcycle. But it is at this point that a young Jack Nicholson appears and a very mediocre film is suddenly elevated to something meaningful. Later, Nicholson gives a remarkable speech about how many Americans embrace the word but not the concept of freedom. This is actually the best part of the film. Unfortunately Nicholson's time in the movie is much too short.
Thereafter Fonda and Hopper arrive in New Orleans for Mardi Gras, and visit a brothel that Nicholson had told them about. While there, Fonda receives a premonition about his death.
Next Fonda and Hopper head to a cemetery with two prostitutes where they all drop acid and experience a bad trip. In my opinion, the bad trip is unnecessary and takes much too long. If it happened earlier in the film, you would go out to buy more popcorn.
Fonda and Hopper then resume their pilgrimage towards Florida. But before reaching their destination, Fonda announces to Hopper at a campfire, "We blew it." Hopper seems to wonder what Fonda is talking about, and frankly, so did I. Perhaps Fonda was suggesting that there are more important things in life than money and that one shouldn't sell drugs to get rich. Or perhaps this statement was supposed to suggest that these bikers represented a corrupt corporate culture in which money, however obtained, reigns supreme no matter the human casualties. Or maybe it simply means that Fonda and Hopper should have stayed at the commune.
But for me, the poignant part of the evening was the presence of Peter Fonda himself. A table was set up for him in the lobby of the theater. He sat there, indoors at night, wearing aviator sunglasses. Signs indicated that anyone wanting to meet Peter would have to (a) buy a ticket to the screening and (b) purchase a photograph from another table (for $20.00), which Peter would then autograph. For another $20.00 you could get a picture taken with Peter while standing behind a motorcycle.
Many of the autograph seekers appeared to be in their 60's and were dressed in motorcycle regalia. Some came with Easy Rider DVD's for Peter to autograph and one man actually had a miniature model of the motorcycle that Peter rode in the film. One sensed that if Easy Rider ran at midnight every weekend like The Rocky Horror Picture Show, many of these folks would be in attendance.
Prior to the film starting, it was announced that Peter was not feeling well. And so he would address the crowd after the film rather than before. He did so for a few minutes.
By the time we left the theater, Peter was back in the lobby signing autographs. And I remembered that he had once been nominated for an academy award for his performance in Ulee's Gold, an outstanding film.
Unfortunately there will not be any special screenings for that.
Going to this screening, I could not help but wonder if Easy Rider has stood the test of time. After all, it is ranked by the American Film Institute as 88th in its list of the greatest American movies ever made. But Easy Rider debuted in 1969, over 40 years ago. To say that times have changed would be a gross understatement. And so, in the end, the short answer is “no.” Easy Rider is a good but not great film.
As everybody knows, Peter Fonda and Dennis Hopper are the anti-heroes in Easy Rider. They play two young drug-dealing potheads who have made a big score. Now they are making a cross-country excursion from California to Florida where they intend to retire. Along the way they meet a variety of characters, some interesting, some not and some simply strange.
But the music is very good and the cinematography is actually outstanding. Particularly compelling are the scenes of Fonda and Hopper driving their choppers on two-lane blacktop often oblivious to the majestic beauty of America, which serves as a spectacular backdrop to their journey.
On the way they meet a farmer with a large family. They make some small talk over dinner about a man doing his own thing in his own time. Next they visit a commune, but it is the kind of place where I wouldn't last for even an hour. They are given a tablet of LSD to quarter and to use at the right time with the right people.
Next they crash a parade and wind up getting arrested. Apparently the cops don't discover the tablet of acid or the money that has been hidden in the tank of Fonda's motorcycle. But it is at this point that a young Jack Nicholson appears and a very mediocre film is suddenly elevated to something meaningful. Later, Nicholson gives a remarkable speech about how many Americans embrace the word but not the concept of freedom. This is actually the best part of the film. Unfortunately Nicholson's time in the movie is much too short.
Thereafter Fonda and Hopper arrive in New Orleans for Mardi Gras, and visit a brothel that Nicholson had told them about. While there, Fonda receives a premonition about his death.
Next Fonda and Hopper head to a cemetery with two prostitutes where they all drop acid and experience a bad trip. In my opinion, the bad trip is unnecessary and takes much too long. If it happened earlier in the film, you would go out to buy more popcorn.
Fonda and Hopper then resume their pilgrimage towards Florida. But before reaching their destination, Fonda announces to Hopper at a campfire, "We blew it." Hopper seems to wonder what Fonda is talking about, and frankly, so did I. Perhaps Fonda was suggesting that there are more important things in life than money and that one shouldn't sell drugs to get rich. Or perhaps this statement was supposed to suggest that these bikers represented a corrupt corporate culture in which money, however obtained, reigns supreme no matter the human casualties. Or maybe it simply means that Fonda and Hopper should have stayed at the commune.
But for me, the poignant part of the evening was the presence of Peter Fonda himself. A table was set up for him in the lobby of the theater. He sat there, indoors at night, wearing aviator sunglasses. Signs indicated that anyone wanting to meet Peter would have to (a) buy a ticket to the screening and (b) purchase a photograph from another table (for $20.00), which Peter would then autograph. For another $20.00 you could get a picture taken with Peter while standing behind a motorcycle.
Many of the autograph seekers appeared to be in their 60's and were dressed in motorcycle regalia. Some came with Easy Rider DVD's for Peter to autograph and one man actually had a miniature model of the motorcycle that Peter rode in the film. One sensed that if Easy Rider ran at midnight every weekend like The Rocky Horror Picture Show, many of these folks would be in attendance.
Prior to the film starting, it was announced that Peter was not feeling well. And so he would address the crowd after the film rather than before. He did so for a few minutes.
By the time we left the theater, Peter was back in the lobby signing autographs. And I remembered that he had once been nominated for an academy award for his performance in Ulee's Gold, an outstanding film.
Unfortunately there will not be any special screenings for that.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
DEATHBED DIVORCE
The tabloids are abuzz with news that actor Dennis Hopper, allegedly terminally ill with prostate cancer, commenced divorce proceedings this month against his wife.
As one would expect, issues of undue influence and competency are being raised. On the other hand, Hollywood folks tend to treat marriage and divorce a little bit more casually than the rest of us. Still, the concept of a person choosing to divorce one’s spouse as his final act on the planet seems unusual if not bizarre
Of course all lawyers know that court calendars generally move rather slowly. This fact alone introduces a dramatic “race against time” element into the saga.
But one thing we should not do is confuse Dennis Hopper, the person, with his screen persona. Indeed, the film characters played by Dennis Hopper have often been typecast as crazed and maniacal. In Blue Velvet he played a violent sociopath. In Speed his character was a terrorist who wanted to blow up a bus.
But he was also a director and a writer. Indeed, he has directed a film that the American Film Institute has listed as being among the top 100 best cinematic achievements in American history. So maybe we should give Dennis the benefit of the doubt.
I am a lawyer, but I no longer handle divorce cases. None. When somebody calls me seeking a divorce, I generally try and talk him or her out of it. “Stay married and forgive everything” has become my mantra. But nobody listens to me. Instead they go to other lawyers and file divorce proceedings nonetheless. And of course there are other points of view. One divorce attorney in Chicago used a billboard truck to convey the following message: Life’s short. Get a divorce. This message apparently suggests that one’s marriage should be evaluated by looking at the sand remaining at the top of the hourglass rather than dwelling upon the sand that has collected at the bottom. In any event, Dennis, presumably, is looking at very little sand.
Of course most lawyers know that there is really no such thing as divorce. Oh, the judge will sign some papers declaring that you are divorced, but in the end it carries about as much significance as money left under a child’s pillow by the tooth fairy. You can believe you are divorced if you want to. But more likely the case will be immediately reassigned to a “post-decree calendar” which means that the fighting will simply continue in another courtroom and with another judge. As a practical matter, marriage really does mean until death do we part.
Except for Dennis Hopper. Because he is dying, Dennis is actually in a position to beat the system. There will be no “post decree” court for Dennis who apparently wants to die a single man. Perhaps that goal is keeping him alive. Maybe the only thing left on Dennis’ bucket list is to hold that certified decree in his hands, smile, close his eyes and start driving that great chopper in the sky.
As one would expect, issues of undue influence and competency are being raised. On the other hand, Hollywood folks tend to treat marriage and divorce a little bit more casually than the rest of us. Still, the concept of a person choosing to divorce one’s spouse as his final act on the planet seems unusual if not bizarre
Of course all lawyers know that court calendars generally move rather slowly. This fact alone introduces a dramatic “race against time” element into the saga.
But one thing we should not do is confuse Dennis Hopper, the person, with his screen persona. Indeed, the film characters played by Dennis Hopper have often been typecast as crazed and maniacal. In Blue Velvet he played a violent sociopath. In Speed his character was a terrorist who wanted to blow up a bus.
But he was also a director and a writer. Indeed, he has directed a film that the American Film Institute has listed as being among the top 100 best cinematic achievements in American history. So maybe we should give Dennis the benefit of the doubt.
I am a lawyer, but I no longer handle divorce cases. None. When somebody calls me seeking a divorce, I generally try and talk him or her out of it. “Stay married and forgive everything” has become my mantra. But nobody listens to me. Instead they go to other lawyers and file divorce proceedings nonetheless. And of course there are other points of view. One divorce attorney in Chicago used a billboard truck to convey the following message: Life’s short. Get a divorce. This message apparently suggests that one’s marriage should be evaluated by looking at the sand remaining at the top of the hourglass rather than dwelling upon the sand that has collected at the bottom. In any event, Dennis, presumably, is looking at very little sand.
Of course most lawyers know that there is really no such thing as divorce. Oh, the judge will sign some papers declaring that you are divorced, but in the end it carries about as much significance as money left under a child’s pillow by the tooth fairy. You can believe you are divorced if you want to. But more likely the case will be immediately reassigned to a “post-decree calendar” which means that the fighting will simply continue in another courtroom and with another judge. As a practical matter, marriage really does mean until death do we part.
Except for Dennis Hopper. Because he is dying, Dennis is actually in a position to beat the system. There will be no “post decree” court for Dennis who apparently wants to die a single man. Perhaps that goal is keeping him alive. Maybe the only thing left on Dennis’ bucket list is to hold that certified decree in his hands, smile, close his eyes and start driving that great chopper in the sky.
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