LawyerJD
04-27-2008, 10:57 PM
Digging a Trench with a Spoon
The judge was late. Again. Hell, he's always late. He starts court when he wants to because he can. He's the presiding judge over the circuit felony court. He literally has the power of life and death. He starts court when the hell he wants to.
Finally, 35 minutes after court was supposed to start, he takes the bench. I'm third on the list - the end result of getting up extra early, driving for almost 90 minutes and then waiting for court to start. At 9:47 a.m., I get the call.
I walk with confidence to the podium. After a decade of walking to the podium to make legal presentations, I'm not nervous at all: "We request a one docket cycle continuance for additional discovery, as stated in my written motion before the court."
The motion is granted, the judge calls the next case, and I leave.
Another wasted day accomplishing absolutely nothing in a court of law.
Many people think the courtroom is exciting, especially the drama of criminal law. The truth is not pretty: Criminal law court is about as exciting as reading the dictionary.
Television makes criminal law exciting. Television producers are smart - they focus exclusively on the 1/10th of a percent that is exciting and avoid the deadly dull.
Don't get me wrong. This isn't just a mid-life crisis. I am not suffering career burnout. In fact, I am certified by my state as a specialist in criminal trial law. I've handled cases that would scare the hell out of most rational people: Would you want to defend a war veteran in a quadruple homicide death penalty case? You think that such a case would be an adrenalin rush no matter which side you were on. The truth? 99.9% of it was . . . dull.
The problem with our legal system, from my, is that most of our time is set on fire. The daily reality is that the way we do things is the legal equivalent to digging a trench with a spoon. You can dig a trench with a spoon, but your arm will be sore and hand is going to cramp. You can dig it, but it will take forever.
Yet . . . I've now broken free. I almost never go to court unless something exciting is going to happen. If something exciting is going to happen, I want to be there. I almost never go into the office, either. Some of my staff have never seen the office. In fact, I haven't seen some of my coworkers - ever.
When I tell people about this, they often ask "how did you do it?" A better question would be about why we did it. Two words: Hurricane Ivan.
When Hurricane Ivan hit is 2004, it destroyed every business on the gulf coast Island my office is located upon. Every business except for one: My law firm.
The area was devastated, infrastructure was literally destroyed, and a law office without electricity is worthless. Phones, computers, printers, fax machines - everything in a modern law office depends on electricity. Our was out for two months. The office made it through the storm, the power lines didn't.
On top of all of that, we had to evacuate 8 times over the next two years - once while I was recovering from successful cancer surgery. That sucked.
So we rethought our business model and brought in the Florida Bar's most highly recommended technology specialists . . . who cost us over $25,000 and created a remote network system more suited to grandpa's law firm. That really sucked.
So we fixed it. Find a way of make one. We made one. In my next post, I explain how.
Cheers!
T. Hink
April 27, 2008
The judge was late. Again. Hell, he's always late. He starts court when he wants to because he can. He's the presiding judge over the circuit felony court. He literally has the power of life and death. He starts court when the hell he wants to.
Finally, 35 minutes after court was supposed to start, he takes the bench. I'm third on the list - the end result of getting up extra early, driving for almost 90 minutes and then waiting for court to start. At 9:47 a.m., I get the call.
I walk with confidence to the podium. After a decade of walking to the podium to make legal presentations, I'm not nervous at all: "We request a one docket cycle continuance for additional discovery, as stated in my written motion before the court."
The motion is granted, the judge calls the next case, and I leave.
Another wasted day accomplishing absolutely nothing in a court of law.
Many people think the courtroom is exciting, especially the drama of criminal law. The truth is not pretty: Criminal law court is about as exciting as reading the dictionary.
Television makes criminal law exciting. Television producers are smart - they focus exclusively on the 1/10th of a percent that is exciting and avoid the deadly dull.
Don't get me wrong. This isn't just a mid-life crisis. I am not suffering career burnout. In fact, I am certified by my state as a specialist in criminal trial law. I've handled cases that would scare the hell out of most rational people: Would you want to defend a war veteran in a quadruple homicide death penalty case? You think that such a case would be an adrenalin rush no matter which side you were on. The truth? 99.9% of it was . . . dull.
The problem with our legal system, from my, is that most of our time is set on fire. The daily reality is that the way we do things is the legal equivalent to digging a trench with a spoon. You can dig a trench with a spoon, but your arm will be sore and hand is going to cramp. You can dig it, but it will take forever.
Yet . . . I've now broken free. I almost never go to court unless something exciting is going to happen. If something exciting is going to happen, I want to be there. I almost never go into the office, either. Some of my staff have never seen the office. In fact, I haven't seen some of my coworkers - ever.
When I tell people about this, they often ask "how did you do it?" A better question would be about why we did it. Two words: Hurricane Ivan.
When Hurricane Ivan hit is 2004, it destroyed every business on the gulf coast Island my office is located upon. Every business except for one: My law firm.
The area was devastated, infrastructure was literally destroyed, and a law office without electricity is worthless. Phones, computers, printers, fax machines - everything in a modern law office depends on electricity. Our was out for two months. The office made it through the storm, the power lines didn't.
On top of all of that, we had to evacuate 8 times over the next two years - once while I was recovering from successful cancer surgery. That sucked.
So we rethought our business model and brought in the Florida Bar's most highly recommended technology specialists . . . who cost us over $25,000 and created a remote network system more suited to grandpa's law firm. That really sucked.
So we fixed it. Find a way of make one. We made one. In my next post, I explain how.
Cheers!
T. Hink
April 27, 2008