Barely Legal: The Blog

‘Don’t Tase Me, Bro’ Kid Is Headed to Law School

2011-05-22T08:33:00.000-07:00

Even if you disregard all of the data, statistics, and anecdotal evidence that going to law school is a terrible idea, this should be enough to convince you that law school is simply not a place that you want to spend three years.

'Unemployed JD' Goes On Hunger Strike To Protest Law Schools

2010-08-09T10:11:00.000-07:00

Link

This asshole seriously pisses me off. I hope he starves himself to death. I have no sympathy for unemployed JDs who feel like they were misled. Anyone who is stupid enough to buy into the load of shit that law school admissions feeds them deserves their fate.

At this point, a law school diploma is just a more expensive humanities degree. Worthwhile to a few, worthless to most. What makes you think you’re the exception?

Whatever Happened To...

2010-03-24T17:17:00.000-07:00

The Desperate Girl

Then: Single female law student urgently seeking a boyfriend.

Now: Just celebrated her five-year anniversary on match.com. No longer requires potential suitors to have hair. Works for the public defender and is always sure to ask her clients if "there's a Mrs. Accused of Attempted Robbery".

The Old Guy

Then: Old Guy in the school. Loved the sound of his own voice.

Now: Whereabouts unknown; presumed dead or fly fishing.

The Philosopher

Then: Unbearable intellectual classmate

Now: Landed a good job but no longer is able to entertain his musings. His new philosophy is "I bill therefore, I am". Desperately wants to get into teaching but is bound to the profession by the golden handcuffs. Rationalizes it by rereading Ayn Rand.

The Hot Girl

Then: Inexplicably hot girl in law school

Now: Got married and left her job to have a kid. Says she's going to go back in a few years, but we all know she won't. One of the 12 people who never misses an episode of The Good Wife.

Jean Shorts Guy

Then: Fashion-challenged weird guy in your class

Now: Low level government attorney; As predicted, wears short sleeve dress shirt with a tie. Still rocks the jorts on weekends. Loved Avatar.

The Feminist

Then: Shrill empowered girl in your class

Now: Single but looking. Spends her days works in public interest. Spends her nights masturbating to Don Draper and then has herself a good cry.

The Frat Boy

Then: Partying bro in your class

Now: Big firm grunt, loves to get wasted on the weekends. Still single, and doesn't see any problem with that. Will soon turn into the old guy at the club.

The Canary

Then: The person you always looked at to reassure yourself that you're not the worst student

Now: Never found a job. Burdened by debt. All to warn you that someone is in a worse spot than you are.

Agent Mulder

Then: Class conspiracy theorist

Now: After getting denied by the FBI, became an IRS auditor. Able to see malfeasance even when there is no malfeasance. Gets very angry if he comes across Lost spoilers.

Federline

Then: The lazy boyfriend/fiance/husband of your female classmate

Now: Got dumped after the sexual/income imbalance became too prominent. Closely following the current situation with John Edwards. Still in a band.

Hypo Man

Then: Extremely annoying classmate who asked ridiculous hypothetical questions

Now: Avid Tea Party member

The Ex-Cop

Then: Cop who thought he could better himself by going to law school

Now: In the criminal justice system the people are represented by two separate but equally important groups, the cops who retire on giant pensions and the ex cops who pay student loans from their meager prosecutor salaries. Bum Bum. Still an asshole.

Lucy

Then: Strong willed ass kicking female classmate

Now: Busting her way through the law profession with gusto and smeared makeup. On Saturdays she dresses like an expensive prostitute (with sexy results).

Red

Then: Person who knows everything about everyone in the law school

Now: Law librarian.

High School Smoker

Then: Pretending to hate law school so as not to be shunned

Now: Dutifully pretending that she doesn't mind working as a paralegal, despite her JD.

Captain Law School

Then: Your school's Mr. Everything

Now: Thought that volunteering for the Obama campaign would turn into a real job, but not so much. Now Captain Document Review.

The BFFs

Then: Female classmates joined at the hip from day one

Now: One got a job, the other didn't. They are no longer friends but stalk each other on Facebook. Still thinks that she is more attractive than her BFF.

If you bet on letdown, you were right

2010-03-24T16:54:00.000-07:00

When Russ and I started discussing what we might say about law school that we haven't already said, we came up blank. We have no new insights, no different perspective now than what we had four years ago, when we graduated.

I still don't think that it's advisable for most people to go to law school; if anything, it's an even worse idea now. But I no longer have the energy nor the desire to attempt to talk you out of it. If you want to go, go. It's not my problem. You might succeed, but you'll probably be miserable. However, there is a light at the end of the tunnel, unless you go into a ton of debt. In that case, you're fucked.

But what became of us? Well, as you probably gathered, I am not a lawyer, by my own volition. I was wise enough to see that there were plenty of people not getting jobs, and those people actually wanted to be lawyers. I threw my hat in the corporate world, and while it's not exactly a satisfying career, I make good money, I rarely get hassled, and I am happy.

Russ kicked around his options for a little while before catching on with a general practice firm. He quickly (and shrewdly) realized that there are tons of Spanish speaking clients out there, and they prefer white attorneys, so he learned Spanish and set up his own shop. He's doing great.

When we initially decided to do this, I envisioned a lot of posts. I was wrong. I am 10% busy and 90% lazy, and the ratio is reversed for Russ. That did not bode well for volume. Plus, like I said, we had nothing new to add. The only thing we could come up with was updating where our "People You Meet" series people are now. So we did, in the laziest fashion possible. That's coming up shortly. Otherwise, you can always catch me over at my current blog, or you can find Russ by telling a Spanish speaking person in Chicago that you're looking for El Abogago Gringo.

We're Putting The Band Back Together

2010-03-20T06:25:00.001-07:00

I got my start with this stupid blogging thing five fucking years ago over at Barely Legal: The Blog. That all got started because two bored law students, my good friend Russ and myself, used to send emails back and forth, making fun of our classmates and our experiences. One day, our respective egos kicked in and said “Wow, this shit is funny. I bet other people would like reading it too.” A day later, Barely Legal was born.

The fact that people read it was not surprising. For as much work as law students claim to do, most of their time is spent on the internet. The fact that anyone actually liked reading it is more surprising. Law students are hypersensitive and hyper critical; in retrospect it took a lot of hubris on our part to think people would actually enjoy reading our stupid thoughts.

Anyway, we graduated, talk of writing a book was pushed to the back burner and eventually scrapped, Russ retired from blogging while I soldiered on. Recently it was suggested to me that we do a reunion. Unlike most ideas from people who read my blog, this wasn’t terrible. So, why the hell not?

At the end of this week, Thursday and Friday only, will be Barely Legal: The Reunion. Russ is going to contribute too. The only problem is that we have no ideas. That’s where you, the loyal reader comes in. Use the Ask feature, or shoot me an email. We want questions, ideas, suggestions, anything you’d like to see. Most of them will probably suck and never be considered, but a few will probably inspire us, or at least give us something to write. This whole thing might fail and be a terrible letdown. In fact, that’s probably inevitable, but that’s okay. Further details forthcoming…

Quick Index To Pretty Much All Law School Posts

2008-09-07T08:59:00.000-07:00

Job Search
Interviewing Fun
Personal Injury
Job Skills
Rejection Letter Madness
A Message From Career Services
A Little Perspective
Interview Story
You Don't Want To Hear This But You Should
Screaming Against The Darkness
Finding A Non-Legal Job

Law Students
Recent IM Conversation
Bad Day
Have You Hugged Your Gunner Today?
Gullible 1L
Me, I Thought He Was An Asshole
Brainwashing
Ambition Run Amok
Sour Grapes
Email Exchange
Gunner With Poor Aim

Law School Social Life
Law Prom
SBA Elections
Don Jaun
Law School Cool
Each To His Own
Recent Email Exchange
A New Look At A Cliched Topic
Point/Counterpoint

General Advice
A Speech to Incoming 1Ls
You're Selling the Steak Not the Sizzle
2L Blues
I Too Was Warned
90% of Success is Just Showing Up
For the Undergrads
JD/MBA
Being in the Middle
Ten Commandments for Easy Livin', Part 1
Ten Commandments for Easy Livin', Part 2
20 Tips To Avoid Being a Douchebag in Law School
Welcome to Law School
Reflections on Law School

Bar Exam
Bar Review Observation #1
Bar Review Observation #2
Bar Review Observation #3
Bar Review Observation #4
The Bar is Over

Professors/Classes
Class Participation
The Legal Clinic Blues
Why I Am an Idiot
Let Me Hear Your Body Talk
More Classroom Antics
End of an Era
Applause
All These Things That I've Done
An Experiment
More Webcam Class Fun
I Rarely Speak Up In Class
Special Ed
Recent Exchange
Not Too Long Ago...
Mike v. Professor, Part 1
Mike v. Professor, Part 2
Mike v. Professor, The Final Chapter

Graduation
FAQs
D's Get Degrees
Family Conversation

Bad Reasons for Attending Law School
I don't plan on practicing, but a JD looks good
I have a worthless undergraduate degree
I want to work in a genteel profession
Law school is prestigious
I got a good score on the LSAT
My parents pressured me
I want to make a difference in this world
I want to make a lot of money
I've been in the real world and I don't like my job
I like to argue

People You Meet in Law School
The Desperate Girl
The Old Guy
The Philosopher
The Hot Girl
Jean Shorts Guy
The Feminist
The Frat Boy
The Canary
Agent Mulder
Federline
Hypo Man
The Ex-Cop
Lucy
Red
The High School Smoker
Captain Law School
The BFFs

Random
The Blossoming of a Law Student
Mind of the Lazy Law Student
Law School v Med School
Law School v Barber College
Law School v High School
Online Law Schools
Rising 3Ls Dilemma
Confessions of a Bad Law Student
Referring To Yourself in the 3rd Person
All In My Head
Journal of Thoughts From My Morning Class
You Can't Spell Class Without A-S-S
Wiseguy, Eh?
Law School Timeline
Real Life Law & Order
Regulators, Mount Up!
Family Law

Exams
The Possum
The Braggart
Smugman
The Freak Out
3Lian Gonzalez
Exam Dress
Last Minute Studying
Tabs
The Most Wonderful Time of the Year
Why You Are Asking Me, I'm Not Sure...
Under Pressure
More Studying Tips
Need An Encouraging Word?
Family Law Seminar
Three Lingering Questions About Exams

Rants
Law Students
Attendance Policies
Last Minute Questions
Paper Passing
Lack of Syllabus
Make-up Classes

Finding A Non-Legal Job

2007-04-15T14:19:00.000-07:00

For the past few weeks, Russ has posted some eye-opening stuff about job prospects after law school. And from what I have heard from friends and classmates, it's all pretty accurate. I wouldn't know personally, however, because I didn't even bother taking the bar, so finding actual legal employment was never on my list of things-to-do.

I was in the minority. When I decided not to take the bar and thus not practice law, my decision was met by classmates with a combination of disbelief and jealousy. Many couldn't believe I would spend three years in law school and not want to even take the bar. These people are obviously unfamiliar with the concept of a sunk cost. Others expressed admiration and envy of my decision, wishing that they too could make such a bold choice.

(Sidebar: Honestly, I don't know what makes it so bold. Is it unconventional? Sure. But that doesn't mean it's illogical. There is no law that says law school graduates must take the bar. I mean, I knew I didn't want to practice law. So why put myself through the hassle? I haven't once, in the nearly one year since I graduated, regretted my decision even one iota. So obviously, it wasn't a bad decision. If people are so envious of it, then why don't more follow my lead? I'll never understand people.)

Anyway, regardless of their reaction, I heard the same question over and over: "What are you going to do instead?" And I answered honestly: "I don't know."

I went into my job search blind. I figured that having a finance degree and a law degree would make me very desirable. I was wrong...sort of. I ended up with a great job that I use neither degree for. But I learned a lot along the way, so I thought I'd share some of what I learned with you. So without further ado, here is my loosely structured advice on how to get a non-legal job right out of law school.

First, a few things you must keep in mind...

Don't fool yourself, you are absolutely an entry-level candidate. You might think your law degree somehow sets you apart from the hoards of recent college graduates who have entered the job market. But unless you have some real work experience, aside from the legal work you did over the summers, you are wrong. A law degree does not qualify you to do anything except be a lawyer. Can it help in other jobs? Sure, but most companies don't go out looking for law graduates to fill non legal jobs, even if a law degree would slightly enhance the person's ability to do that job. So you need to go in with the mindset that your law degree doesn't make you special, doesn't mean you're more qualified, and doesn't entitle you to anything more than you were entitled to coming out of college. You might disagree, but read the next point.

Actually, having a law degree when looking for a non-law job does set you apart. People who aren't lawyers don't understand the practice of law at all. They think you're throwing away a winning lottery ticket by not practicing. I submitted a resume and cover letter to one company, and they called me back solely out of curiosity, to see the guy with a law degree who didn't want to practice law. They think something is wrong with you and label you as a flake, which is something you need to overcome. This can be done by coming up with a good answer as to why you're not practicing law, and incorporating that into both your cover letter and your interviews, because it will definitely be the first question they ask you. I experimented with a variety of answers, from the brutally honest to the completely fake. I found the completely fake works better. In order to avoid the flake label, you need to convince them that whatever job it is you are interviewing for is what you set your sights on to begin with, and you went to law school to give yourself a more well-rounded education. If you make it seem like you went to law school, didn't like it, and are now moving on to something better, you will only look flakier in their eyes. So you need to convince recruiters and interviewers that you never intended to practice law, you just wanted to round out your education, even if that's complete bullshit.

Start early. I decided, with 100% certainty, that I wasn't going to take the bar very early in my 3rd year. My mistake was not starting on my job search at that point. Because I was somewhat of an oddity on the job market, it took some time to get things rolling. I had interviews with places where I was overqualified, and places where I was underqualified, and it took me a long time to really get focused on what I wanted to do. If I could go back and do it again, I would have started during the school year by attending undergraduate career fairs on campus and getting a chance to talk to recruiters face to face, and I would have started sending out resumes and cover letters to different places before graduation, just to have gotten the ball rolling.

To paraphrase a line from Pulp Fiction: "When you are out there looking for a job, you may feel a slight sting. That's pride fucking with you. Fuck pride. Pride only hurts, it never helps." Lets be real. Law school is an elitist institution, where people look at prestige as a determination of your worth. If you decide not to pursue a career in the law, you need to get rid of all of that law school prestige bullshit and do what is best for you. You're probably going to end up with a job that you didn't need to go to law school to get. But that's okay, because you obviously are looking for a non-legal job for a reason. If you are in that situation, fuck pride. You don't deserve anything because you have a law degree. It'll make your search a lot easier.

What you can learn from my experience. Even though I put my pride aside, I still had standards. I knew that the job search was a lengthy process, and I prepared for that. Desperation is a bad thing. I started going on interviews in July, really ramped up the search in August, and finally got a job I wanted at the end of October. Along the way, I went on many bad interviews, rejected offers which I deemed unacceptable, and held out for something that I actually wanted. Is it my dream job? No, but for first jobs, I could do a hell of a lot worse. The lesson, I think, is to keep your options open, but don't overvalue yourself.

Final thoughts...Much like getting a legal job, getting a non-legal job is going to come down to you being able to sell yourself to employers. In a perfect world, you'll find a company that sees your JD as a positive, and they'll really want you to come work for them, and pay you handsomely. In reality, you'll get a job because you sold yourself to them, and in spite of your JD. Bottom line is, if you are looking for a non-legal job, it's either because you have no desire to be an attorney, or the legal job market put you in that situation. Regardless of why, it's up to you to go out and make it happen for yourself, because nobody is going to hand you anything.

One more thing...it wouldn't hurt to buy a lottery ticket every week.

Screaming Against The Darkness

2007-04-09T08:55:00.000-07:00

For the past couple weeks I've been writing about the grim employment prospects for many law school graduates. Certainly, not everyone or even a majority of people are unemployable, but a sizable minority are and no one ever speaks about them. I'm glad some people were candid enough to share their experiences with the rest of you.

Anyways, for those of you who choose to see law school through even though you feel like you might be unemployable (or at least your professor's grading curves do), I want to give some final departing advice for the desperate.

1) Distinguish yourself! If you're not at the top of your class or on a journal find something else about you that will separate you from the pack. I first chaired two jury trials in law school which distinguishes me from the vast majority of law students (and even most lawyers). My current boss seemed impressed with that.

2) Get a job to get a job! Before law school, in law school, and out of law school get any kind of legal employment you can. Even if you're working in a mail room, you'll get exposure and connections. I worked as a paralegal for a few months for a law firm. This made interviews far less embarrassing when I could announce that I was "currently temping at a law firm".

3) Do anything you can to get some applicable experience! Join your law school's clinic, volunteer at legal aid, call up any and all government offices seeing if they need a free legal intern. If you've seen a divorce, bankruptcy, or lawsuit through from start to finish you'll be much more employable (and you'll sound like you know what you're talking about) than any other candidates.

Good luck guys. It's way tougher out there than anyone says but if you're truly active and strategic about your job search, things will work out.

www.abogadodechicago.com
www.rdklegal.com

Conversation With A Friend

2007-04-02T06:18:00.000-07:00

Russ: How's the job search?

Friend: Awful.

Russ: Write about it for my blog.

Friend: I would but it's too depressing to think about let alone write about.

Russ: Don't others deserve to know?

Friend: They'll just be as naive and optimistic as I was. I mean, I was average. I got average grades in law school, didn't do anything special during my summers, never took on any special projects. I thought an average law student would get a job. But here's the thing, I was average at a really good school. The average LSAT score for someone attending my school qualifies them for Mensa but apparently not for the lowliest mouth breathing entry-level legal job.

Warning Signs

2007-04-02T05:53:00.000-07:00

I've received several emails from current law students who bemoan the fact that they can't find an internship, summer job, or job after graduation. I choose not to post them because they don't have the angry, frustrated quality that will actually jar a law student out of his stupor and follow the true Socratic method, leading an examined life.

But, something bizarre does occur to me when reading these emails: These kids can't get someone to let them work FOR FREE. They are being turned away by government agencies and charities. The demand for free labor should be infinite. Therefore, your average 2L's presence at a legal job site must provide a negative value to any possible employer. What does that say about your legal education.

So, guys, if no one is letting you work for free, read the writing on the wall. Even less people will be willing to pay you to work.

Mission Accomplished!

2007-03-29T14:51:00.000-07:00

From a Reader:

Subject: I don't know whether to hate you or thank you. Maybe both?

You guys have seriously either saved my life or ruined it. I was ready to be a law student. Top of my class with a 4.0. 178 on the LSATs. Extensive volunteering for a well known non-profit and even regular work in a law firm. I got accepted to one of the top three Law Schools and I was ready to graduate and go off this coming year. I didn't want a big firm job. I wanted to work for non-profits and hopefully have my loans forgiven. I was set. I was happy. God help me I was excited. I had been reading various law blogs and books for a year to try to get an idea about whether or not I'll enjoy law school and god help me I was convinced I would be a gunner. I genuinely love the law. I love briefing cases, I love staying up all night discussing them, I love it. But now for the first time I have doubt. Not just doubt, I lie awake wondering if I'm making a mistake. It's not too late for me to get out. I've signed up to take the GREs and have started looking at jobs after graduation. I now not only have other options, I'm seriously considering them. I'm terrified of law school and what it will mean when I graduate and pass the bar. I'm really not sure that I'm going any more. So yeah, your mission was accomplished. You've scared me to the bone. Whether you saved my life or ruined it? I'll let you know in a few years.

If this person isn't going to law school then why are any of you? Because they're one less person clammoring after the same job?

Submitted Law Employment Story # 4

2007-03-28T06:03:00.000-07:00

From a reader:

While I generally prefer to lurk and not contribute, your request for scare stories for law students (or those considering law school) was too much to pass up... so here's mine:

Top 25% at a first tier school (University of Wisconsin), Law Review, clinical and externship experience but no firm work. Couldn't get a job for 6 months after graduation (and had obviously been looking since before third year). While I was perhaps being a little picky about the type of work I wanted to do, I was applying for everything and anything across all geographic regions, as long as it was the area of work I wanted (environmental law - which I have a hard science background to support). Private firms (of all sizes), non-profits (my first choice), government, EVERYTHING. I only got a job by agreeing to move to the middle of nowhere to do family law (which I have no experience in) for a very hard-up non-profit agency.

I don't actually regret my decision to go to law school, but I really think students should know the reality of what they're getting into. The debt is remarkably humbling and the jobs just aren't there to make it worth while. If someone wants to practice in small-town USA, they *may* be okay, but it's definitely not a sure thing these days.

Thanks for spreading the gospel!

Submitted Law Employment Story # 3

2007-03-28T05:44:00.002-07:00

From a reader:

I ran across your blog tonight and I felt compelled to write in with my own diatribe. I never really gave much thought to going to law school until I was halfway through my master's program. I have come to conclude this has been the worst mistake of my life, to date.

My grades were fine - I made the Dean's List, got an award, even graduated with honors. I clerked for a small firm my 2L year, volunteered for varies legal groups, networked, etc. Everything the good law student should do. During my 3L year I submitted an article to a law journal and it was accepted for publication. I also graduated with honors. I thought all of these things would guarantee me a job. Seriously, Master's degree, work experience, honors, publication - my firm bio would look beautiful. I was WRONG!

I graduated in May of 2006 and now it is March 2007 and I finally got a job - as a frickin' document reviewer...second shift. I'm not even good enough to get a 9-5 job. I'm pretty sure in my next few interviews I'm going to explain the gap in my resume as being caused by a very sick relative who eventually died.

I never understood why lawyers always told me never to go to law school. Now I do. Bar review is the closest thing to hell on Earth. When you do finally pass the bar you either stay unemployed or get a soul-draining job as a document reviewer. My advice to law students is - quit while you're ahead!

Thanks for letting me rant.

The Plural of Anecdote is Data

2007-03-26T12:07:00.000-07:00

I hope some of the legal employment anecdotes we've posted have scared you (and there will be more to come). But some of you are smart enough to say, "Russ, this is one person. Unlike me, they're unlucky/stupid/ugly/socially awkward/unconnected." We don't want you to trust law school brochure anecdotes so don't trust ours either. So, to prove there are more lawyers than there are jobs available, please look at the two links below: (hat tip: some UT student)

There are something like 1.2 million JDs in the US, but guess what, there are only about 530,000 practicing lawyers. What do you think all those other people are doing? If you don't believe me, have a look at these:

http://www.bls.gov/oes/current/oes231011.htm

http://www.abanet.org/lsd/stulawyer/sep02/thetruth.html

The second one is from the ABA. Even the national bar association is telling you to be prepared to do something else with your life.

Submitted Law Employment Story #2

2007-03-25T20:02:00.000-07:00

From A Reader

While you may believe that this blog is unnecessarily harsh regarding law school, it is not. Every single syllable is true. I graduated from a big ten school with a 3.6, had a decent LSAT score and attended a local tier-three law school. I was the quintessential "average" law student. I tried my best but never managed to make Law Review or graduate in the top 20% of my class. Still, I thought I would make a "good lawyer" so I held my head up high and finished.

I graduated in May 2006, it's now March of the next year and I cannot find legal work of any kind-not contract work (because it all requires loads of experience), or even work as a paralegal (because no one wants someone with a law degree as their assistant). Employers ask, "Why should I invest in training you as a paralegal when you will leave if you find something better?" I'd like to respond that there is nothing better, but morbid negativity during job interviews is never a quality that gets you hired.

The irony is had I become a paralegal in undergrad I would have a great job. No one told me that good paralegals earn as much or more money than average lawyers. I saw two job postings today. The first posting was for a paralegal at a corporate headquarters for $55,000.00 with full benefits. The second for an entry level attorney at the county prosecutor's office for $35,000 with full benefits. I rest my case.

Heard the saying, "you can do ANYTHING with a law degree?" It's a lie. You can be a lawyer with a law degree. Unless the Gods have smiled on you, you will be unemployed. Having more education than your employer is never a good thing. Welcome to the world of you are "overqualified." Law school is like attending cosmetology school. Do you believe you could do ANYTHING with a cosmetology diploma (aside from being a beautician)? Of course not, well the same theory applies to law school.

The fact of the matter is unless you are the brown nosing legal eagle A student gunner that everyone hates, you have a relative that owns a law firm, you are independently wealthy or you are attending law school to put off marrying your father's best friend's daughter from your homeland-DROP OUT IMMEDIATELY.

The constant stress and anguish from attending law school is what I imagine having herpes must be like...just when you think you will never face it again, you have an outbreak. Law school ravages your finances, your self-esteem, and your relationships. I include relationships because your family and friends will gather together to harp on you and criticize you until you are ready to check yourself into a psych ward. Either your family has a successful lawyer who looks at you across the dinner table on holidays like you are a genetically inferior misfit because you didn't make big law at graduation and still can't find a job, or your family is middle America blue collar that feels having a J.D. is like having a winning lottery ticket. Both scenarios leave you drained emotionally, and wondering why you didn't become a stripper at 17.

I know you feel this will not be your fate. But it is the fate of countless people. Law schools do nothing to protect the profession. They churn out graduates like run-down online diploma mills. It is expected that Online-University.com may give you a degree that isn't worth the paper it is printed on. But waking up one year or two after graduating from local tier-three state university law school, and realizing your degree is the equivalent of toilet paper will be devastating. Especially when you are forced to live in a van down by the river because Sallie Mae reams you monthly with interest rates that are higher than credit cards. Another lovely consequence is if you miss a payment, not only will your credit score be 112, but you will jeopardize your license or getting one, if you don't have it, by putting your financial fitness in question with your State Bar Association.

In sum, law school was the single biggest mistake of my adult life thus far. It is a far reaching, expensive and painful mistake that will not seem to go away. Sort of like getting pregnant at 15 or becoming a drug addict. Take my words as a public service announcement. Don’t let my fate become your own.

Submitted Law Employment Story # 1

2007-03-25T05:00:00.000-07:00

From A Reader

Mike and Russ, you are exactly correct on both of your posts. I graduated last May from a second tier law school. I was in the middle of my class. I put together what many have called a very solid resume for what I wanted to do (labor and employment law). I clerked for a year at a labor and employment law firm, I was the president of the Labor and Employment Law Society, I was on the Moot Court Arbitration Team and participated in our Unemployment Compensation Clinic. In May, I thought that there was no way I would have a problem finding a job. God, was I stupid! Big firms would not even look at my resume and the small firms are not hiring if you have no experience (they can't afford to pay to train you). I met with 40+ attorneys, went to CLEs to network, joined different labor and employment groups and I even started my own firm to take public defender assignments. What did that get me? Well, I got lucky, I got a job doing plaintiff side labor and employment law. I don't think it pays enough to pay all my bills (I am lucky to have a wife bringing some money into the relationship). It took me ten months to get a job. Luckily, I snuck in just before a whole new batch of law school graduates are pushed out of their comfy, fantasy land law schools into the real world where they will soon find jobs as waitresses, bartenders, and that guy from Starbucks who will give you his resume with your latte.

Thinking about law school? Seriously, don't do it unless you know what it is really like out there! And if you think you know, you don't!

You Don't Want To Hear This But You Should

2007-03-23T05:26:00.000-07:00

Do you believe in irony? Well, I have been working as an attorney for a few months now and I really like my work. I am lucky to have such a great job. The sad part is, though, I am lucky to have any job at all.

The legal market is much tougher out there than law students expect. My conclusion is that career services aren't just useless, they're largely pointless because there simply aren't enough jobs out there for all law school graduates.

Here are your options as an upcoming law grad:

1) Big firm: You already know how these work. Either go to a great school or graduate at the top of your class. Otherwise, they're not an option.

2) Government: The public defender or the prosecutors office will hire anyone, right? True but they hire much more rarely than you think. In my county, they instituted a hiring freeze and all PDs and Prosecutors and clerks with less than 3 years experience have been let go. Do not plan to fall back on this because there are people with much more experience who also have the same plan (I interned for the State's Attorney where I worked under two big firm burnouts)

3) Small firms: These mysterious small firms are supposed to soak up the remaining law graduates. This is a myth. Small firms have neither the time nor the resources to train law graduates. You really don't know anything upon graduating and some attorney is not going to take an hour or two to train you each day because he simply can't afford to. Why would they, when they can just hire one of the thousands of people big firm and government shed each year.

4) Contracting: contracting firms do hire new attorneys to do document review. You spend all day, deciding relevant or irrelevant and privileged or unprivileged, while your career stagnates. Believe it or not, these jobs are competitive as big firm burnouts frequently gravitate to them for a well deserved rest.

Don't believe me? Look at your local law bulletin for "help wanted" ads. You'll find they all want at least 2 years of experience. The reason the employers ask for experience is because they can always get it as big firms shed employees each year.

I went to a good school, University of Illinois, and I know lots of people with good grades who are still looking for legal work. And, sadly, the February bar test takers will be flooding the streets of my state with 600 more attorneys and in May another few thousand grads will hit the market and the vicious cycle will continue.

If you are a law student and you have no way to distinguish yourself: good grades, good experience, good network, then you will most likely not be able to find legal employment. Not immediately after graduation. Not after you pass the bar. Not after a younger fresher class does the same a year later while you have to explain your year of unemployment on your resume. Save yourself a lot of grief and a lot of money. Drop out.

But, knowing law students, you all think you're the exception even though your 3.2 from the University of Toledo says you're exactly average.

So, law grads, e-mail us with your stories of unemployment, underemployment, or misemployment and we'll post them so that law students can be fairly warned.

Update: A 2L from a third tier school with a sub 3.0 GPA is both unimpressed and incredulous regarding my post. Someone set them straight.

Update #2: Mike added his thoughts on the topic over at his new blog.

I wrote this once, never got around to posting it...until now

2006-12-10T12:20:00.000-08:00

Q: I went to an interview, and the job sounds awful, but they offered it to me. What should I do?

The biggest reason so many people end up disillusioned in law school is because of unmet expectations. We come in expecting great jobs, interesting work, and endless opportunities. We later come to find out that jobs are scarce, the work is boring, and the opportunities are limited. Thus, there often comes a turning point when we have to decide whether to accept it for what it is and take it, or move on to look for something better. If you have been offered a job that you don’t want, but think you need, you have an important decision to make: Do you accept it and the accompanying unhappiness, or do you take the road less traveled and go for what you really want?

My second year of law school was a personal struggle: I realized that I wasn’t really interested in becoming a lawyer anymore, but I didn’t want to burn that bridge yet. I had no interest in a large firm job, so by default I thought I’d end up with a small firm. I had a few interviews, with varying success, but I hadn’t accepted any jobs yet. Then, during spring exams, I got a call from a local bankruptcy firm that I had applied to. They wanted to do an interview. The firm was well-known locally, and was a highly respected small firm around town. It would have been a great opportunity for someone interested in doing this kind of law.

I went in for the interview, where I met with the two partners. The office we were in was messy, stacks of paper all over the place, files piled on the floor, a half-eaten sandwich on the desk. The two attorneys looked to be in the same condition as the office: large bags under their eyes, sleeves rolled up on their dress shirts, top buttons unbuttoned and ties loosened, and they seemed genuinely relieved to be able to take a 45 minute “break” to interview me.

From the outset, the interview was going well. I established a good rapport with them, I gave good, bullshit answers that they wanted to hear. They explained the position to me, and I could not have been more bored. Bankruptcy law is just as dry as it sounds. My interest in the job went from ‘low’ to ‘negative’. I looked around the messy office, looked at the two stressed out lawyers interviewing me, and realized that I had no desire to do this.

But it wasn’t that simple. I needed to do something that summer and I wasn’t in the position to be turning down jobs. It would be so much easier if I wasn’t offered the job; then I could go out and take a risk, find something I really wanted. But from how the attorneys were treating me, I knew they would make me an offer. So at that moment I made a decision. I was going to take a dive.

I would throw the interview.

Just when I made that decision, they gave me the perfect opportunity to start, by asking if I was going to be able to work during the school year. I looked right at them and said, “I don’t know, my schedule is going to keep me pretty busy.” I was hoping it would turn the interview sour, but one of the attorneys said “That’s okay, we understand. We’ll work around your schedule, whatever it is.”

Damnit! I needed to do better than that. So when they opened it up to me for questions, I put Interview Mike back into his box and brought Real Mike out to continue with the rest of the interview. “What kind of vacation time will I get?”… “What sort of hours will I have to work?”… “How long can I take for my lunch break?”…”Can I run home at some point to let my dog out?”

When they told me there would be long hours, I winced. When they told me that I probably couldn’t take any vacation time, I grumbled. When they told me lunch was an hour and that I could go let my dog out then, I seemed positively confused.

Soon, the interview ended. Their demeanor went from happy and enthusiastic at the beginning of the interview to cold and annoyed by the end. Obviously, I had met my objective. So you can imagine my shock when they called me and offered the job. So I did what I should have done in the first place; I asked for a ridiculous amount of money, and when they refused, I told them I had to pass.

Counting Down To The Last Post....

2006-11-22T05:19:00.000-08:00

Could you post your thoughts on gunners with poor aim? I think those poor souls who try so hard to be gunners but whose answers are so completely inane and/or off topic deserve some blog space.

Excellent topic. I have been meaning to post about a former classmate of mine who fit this description to a T…

Most law students fall into one of two categories: Those who came to law school for better career options and those who came because they didn’t know what else to do. A very small minority of law students came of another reason altogether; they have a genuine interest in learning about the law. (Quick sidebar: Many people will claim to have a genuine interest in learning about the law, but most are just fooling themselves. If law school didn’t offer better career options than a liberal arts degree, then they wouldn’t be there. And if they say otherwise, they’re full of shit and well on their way to being a successful lawyer).

But there was one guy in my class (we’ll call him “Darren”) who was in law school first and foremost because he wanted to learn about the law. He was middle-aged and left his successful career on a whim to go to law school. He was eager and enthusiastic and hungry to learn. He always had a bounce in his step and was always ready to discuss that day’s reading, or any other topic so long as it related to the law. He loved law school for what it was. This would have been somewhat refreshing, but his newfound love affair with the law gave rise to three annoying traits which drove his classmates crazy.

1) He took every opportunity to volunteer not as an option to speak, but as a duty. Often he would raise his hand before the professor even asked for volunteers, ensuring that he would be heard before anyone else had a chance. He approached class like there were two people in the room and thus, many classes devolved into one-on-one conversations between him and the professor. Now this wouldn’t be so bad, except…

2) He was one of those guys who liked to research topics outside of the reading, and bring that information to the classroom discussion. But that wasn’t the problem (although it’s totally gunnerish). The problem was, he usually got way off track with his research, confusing the issues, and often the professor in the process. It wasn’t that he was trying to expand the topics; he just missed the mark. It would be like if you asked someone to explain the impact of the Red Sox winning the 2004 World Series on Boston sports fans, and they came back with a report on the Patriots winning the Super Bowl. Related? Somewhat. Relevant? No.

3) He had no Time-Left-In-Class Awareness. Countless times he broke the unwritten rule that you are not allowed to raise your hand in the last five minutes of class. The ends of classes would become anxious with him around, everyone nervously shifting their eyes back and forth between the clock and his right arm, hoping he didn’t have anything left to say. When he would raise his hand, there would be an audible groan, which didn’t deter Darren in the least.

One story that I have perfectly describes the Darren experience. Fall semester of my 3^rd year, I took Landlord/Tenant Law with Darren. The class met for two hours one afternoon per week. During the last class before exams, with 15 minutes left, the professor passed out a sample essay question and told us to just identify the issues. Since I hadn’t read a page all year and had yet to study for the final, I had no idea so I just kept on surfing the internet while my classmates dutifully identified the issues. After ten minutes, the professor told us to stop because she wanted time to go over the correct answers.

“Would anyone like to share their answers?” she asked as Darren’s hand shot up. She looked hesitantly at him for a second, knowing all too well there this was going, and undoubtedly regretting offering him the option. But before she could change her mind, he launched into his list of issues.

Instead of sticking with the expected landlord/tenant issues, Darren went all out. He found legal issues that fell under commercial paper, secured transactions, contract law, and civil procedure. Conspicuously absent, however, were many landlord/tenant issues. The professor interrupted him, in an attempt to reign him in, but he couldn’t be stopped until he read all 16 issues that he found. He finally finished, pleased with himself. All 70 people in the room were staring at him, with the same look of confusion and amusement on their faces. A few people snickered, and one person was loudly laughing at Darren’s answer. (Okay, that was me.)

“Um…well,” the professor said, choosing her words carefully. “You should have found five issues in this question, all of which pertain to landlord/tenant law. How many landlord/tenant issues did you find?”

“Two, but…”

I couldn’t take it anymore. I got up and left. To my surprise, half the class followed my lead, leaving the poor professor and an oblivious Darren there to discuss how civil law would apply to landlord/tenant situations in our common law state.

This Won’t Be The Last Post, But...

2006-11-15T17:09:00.000-08:00

I’m sure you’ve noticed that the posting on this blog has become sporadic lately. Both contributors have been dealing with some serious personal issues.

Russ recently had an old girlfriend return to his life with twin sons he never knew he had. The old girlfriend is no longer in his life, but she left the twins to him to care for.

Mike is experiencing advanced kidney failure and is desperately awaiting a transplant, and he just can’t find the humor in life anymore.

This isn’t the last post, necessarily. If Mike finds time between dialysis treatments, or if Russ finds time between cleaning spit-up off of his shirt and trying to support this new family, they may post something from time to time.

May your prayers be with them.

Job Search Post #7

2006-11-12T19:58:00.000-08:00

For some people, especially those out in the working world, this post is going to go straight into the “No shit, Sherlock” category. But for other people, those naïve souls still lucky enough to be sheltered away in undergraduate or graduate schools, or the even luckier jerks whose family connections ensure that their next cushy job is just one phone call away, I came to learn a hard truth over my three-month job search: Employers treat job seekers like shit, and there isn’t anything you can do about it.

I could make a list a mile long of my grievances, but I’ll stick to the three worst instances:

1) I had an interview with one company that was scheduled for 2:30. Like a good little candidate, I arrived ten minutes early and was instructed by the secretary to take a seat in the lobby. So I sat down and waited….and waited….and waited. I kept pulling my cell phone out of my pocket to look at the time. 2:30 came and went, and no one came to get me. By 2:40 I was annoyed. By 2:50, I was furious. The fact that the secretary sat 15 feet away from me but made no attempt to find out what the delay was or even acknowledge my wait only added to my anger. I decided that if 3:00 came and I was still waiting, I was going to leave. After all, if I had shown up a half hour late to an interview, would I have a chance at getting the job? Of course not.

I was staring at my cell phone, rooting for 3:00 to come so I could justify leaving. Finally, and to my chagrin, at 2:58 the guy came out to get me. By this time, I was livid and I had no desire to be there, but I decided to give him one more chance; if he apologized for the wait and gave me an explanation (even a bad one would have sufficed) I would have been appeased.

We sat down, he looked at his papers and said “So you’re my 2:30?” I told him that I was. And with that, he launched into his questions. I decided right there that I was no longer interested in the job, and my answers reflected as much. I gave short, sometimes monosyllabic answers to all of his questions; I told him that I wasn't really interested in the industry; and the only question I asked him was about vacation time. Twenty minutes later, the interview was over. My whole experience there led me to believe that it would suck to work there. That impression was solidified when, an hour after my interview ended, they called and invited me back for a second interview. Given how intentionally bad I had made my interview, I certainly didn’t want to work for any company that would have that version of me as an employee.

2) In early September, a little more than a month into my search, my first really good opportunity came along. The job was a good combination of my undergraduate and law degrees, they were hiring multiple people to make up a training class; and it paid well. For the first time in my job search, I found something that I was actually interested in and I prepared accordingly. I’ll spare the details, but the interview went very, very well. The guy I spoke to was so impressed that he went and got his boss to meet me. The big boss and I hit it off as well, and spoke for almost a half hour. Among the topics of our conversation was how important professionalism is in that company, and how important it is to treat coworkers with dignity and respect. I dutifully agreed with him, and he passed me back to the original interviewer. We spoke a little longer, and he sent me on my way. As I left, I was sure that I would get the job. So sure, in fact, that I decided to take a break from job search activities for the rest of the week, and I even started to splurge on some nice new clothes to wear to my job (not suits though).

The following Monday, there was an message in my junk mail folder from the HR department of the company. I opened it, and was treated to the following:

Mr. [Mike],

Thank you for your interest in the [job I interviewed for] position with [the company]. We regret to inform you that we cannot offer you a position at this time. We will keep your resume on file in case something else meeting your qualifications becomes available.

Human Resources

What happened next was like the five stages of job rejection. At first I was in denial. This email read like some generic auto-response that I received when I submitted applications to other jobs which I never interviewed for. Surely this must be some sort of mistake. "Maybe I should call the HR department and get it straightened out," I thought.

Next there was disappointment. I was so sure that I would get the job, I had mentally gotten away from the job seeking mindset and moved back into lazy relaxed mode. The prospect of going back to the job seeking grind was not a pleasant one.

Next, I got confused, because my interview had gone great. I had every single qualification they were looking for, my law degree actually brought something to the table that impressed them, and they were hiring five people. Sure, one person could be a better candidate than me. But five? No way, not for this job in this market.

After that, I got pissed. I accepted the fact that they didn’t want me. I can take rejection. But it was the way that informed me that made me mad. They didn’t have the decency to call me, mail me a letter on company letterhead, or even send me an email from a real person. They sent me a generic rejection letter from an email address I couldn’t even respond to. I wanted to call the guy I interviewed with and tell him to be a fucking man.

Finally, I accepted it, but I wanted answers. I figured that if I wasn't going to get the job, I at least wanted to know why. Over the next two weeks I left four voicemails for the guy I interviewed with, none of which were returned.

Professionalism my ass.

3) About a month ago, before I was offered the job I eventually accepted, I responded to a job posting in the Sunday paper. It wasn’t particularly interesting, but it was a decent opportunity, so I figured I might as well apply. The next day, Monday, I got a call from that company, asking if I could come in for an interview the next day at 4:00. I accepted, and was happy to find on mapquest that the company was located in the office park across the street from my apartment complex. So at 3:50 I hopped in my car and drove across the street.

By 4:05, I was home.

What happened? Well, I walked in and was directed to a conference room. A minute later, some guy walked in and introduced himself, and asked for a copy of my resume, which I handed over, freshly printed on high quality resume paper. He looked it over and asked me about my experience in the field. I told him that I had none, and launched into my spiel about why I was uniquely qualified because I went to law school, blah blah blah. When I stopped, he said, annoyed, “Okay, but the job requires at least three years of experience.”

“Then why did you call me for an interview?” I asked.

“Uh….Not sure, to be honest.”

“Oh, well that makes sense,” I responded sarcastically.

“Sorry,” he said, as he stood up to indicate to me that it was time to leave.

“Not to worry,” I told him as I also stood, this time in an overly cheery manor. “I’m sure it happens all the time.” He looked at me blankly for a second, then finally got that I was making fun of him. As I was walking out the door, I stopped and said, “One more thing…I want my resume back.” I snatched it from his hand and left the building.

So those are my stories. What are yours? Send me your best job seeking stories to barelylegalblog@gmail.com, and we might post a few of the best.

Sworn Into the Bar Today

2006-11-09T13:48:00.000-08:00

So, I'm officially an Esquire.

I've joined the elite ranks of Bill S. Preston and the only men's magazine that doesn't have nudity and yet still manages to sell copies.

Job Search Post #6/Random Rant #9

2006-11-06T05:47:00.000-08:00

You know what really bothered me more than anything during my job search? Having to wear a suit to interview with a company where professional dress is not required for the job. There are few things more awkward than wearing an uncomfortable business suit when the guy across the table from you is comfortably kicking back in some Dockers and a polo shirt. If the job doesn’t require you to wear suits to work, then why wear one to the interview? (Also, why do we wear the same suit in warm weather as we do in cold weather? No one else wears jackets when it’s 90 degrees, except crazy homeless people. Shouldn’t it be a sign that something is wrong with a social trend when the only other subset of people who follow the trend are the mentally unstable?)

My question is, what is the point of wearing a suit? It’s all well and good if professional dress is required for the job, because if you are required to wear a suit to work, wearing one to the interview proves you own the proper wardrobe. But if the job is business casual, wouldn’t you want to look business casual? Just because it makes you look professional doesn’t mean you are professional. The only thing that wearing a suit signifies for certain is that at one point in your past, you purchased a suit. It’s not as if owning a suit is prestigious. Suits are not a scarce commodity, only sold to those people with the dignity and class required to wear such a fine piece of clothing. Suits are getting cheaper and cheaper to purchase. It won’t be long before Wal-Mart is marketing a suit, shirt, and tie combination for $49, meant to be worn to custody hearings and weddin’s. Any idiot can put on a suit and have someone tie their tie for them. Employers can’t possibly gauge any real level of professionalism from what they wear to an interview.

Maybe it has some other aesthetic qualities, but so what? Lots of things look nice. Can’t we come up with a more comfortable way to dress well? Whenever a suit is considered proper attire, it is undoubtedly an important event (interviews, business meetings, trials, weddings, funerals, and so on.) These events are the most likely places where a man is going to get nervous. So why did we settle on the most uncomfortable combination of clothing to be the proper attire for formal and professional events? It’s like a cruel joke. “Hey, let’s take a heavy fabric, like wool, and make a jacket and a pair of pants out of it. Then we’ll make a shirt out of cotton to wear underneath. But we don’t want that shirt to be too comfortable, so we’ll add starch to it, so it’s stiff and rigid. Then, we’ll take a long silk piece of fabric and tie it tightly around the neck, thus constricting breathing. For shoes, let’s not give any padding or support, so as to limit comfort. Then we’ll make it pretty much mandatory for men to wear this crazy costume to every important event in his life.” Now tell me, does that make any sense?

People say, “clothes make the man”, but if anything, it’s the contrary. After all, a genius in sweatpants is still a genius, and an idiot in an Armani suit is just a sharply dressed idiot.

Recent IM Conversation

2006-11-02T09:55:00.000-08:00

Reader: That wasn’t very nice to call Courtney an ignorant slut
barelylegalblog: I didn’t really mean it, it’s a classic pop culture reference
Reader: I’m not familiar with it
barelylegalblog: Well you’ve proved your ignorance…was that the only part of it you were offended by?
Reader: Haha, I may be a slut but I’m not ignorant
barelylegalblog: Your parents must be proud
Reader: Why?
barelylegalblog: I guess I’d rather have my daughter be known for her ignorance

Point/Counterpoint

2006-10-30T20:52:00.000-08:00

…with Mike and Courtney.

Topic: Did the social scene at our school suck more than at other schools?

Courtney: I contend that the social life at this school is much worse than at other schools for several reasons: First, the city itself sucks. There isn’t anything fun to do and all of the bars are overrun with undergrads or local white trash. Second, the people at our school suck; they’re either overly serious and pretentious dorks, or they’re obnoxious idiots. There are very few people cool, laid back people who are fun to be around who won’t discuss law all night, or who don’t start acting like 19 year old loud sorority sluts after three apple-tini’s.

Mike: I contend that you’re wrong. You aren’t describing our law school; you are describing every law school. Sure, our city isn’t great, but unless you’re in Las Vegas or South Beach, what would you expect? It beats some hick town with four bars and a college where the locals look down on book learnin'. And do you think there is some magic school out there with only cool, laid back people who are fun to be around? Of course there isn’t. It’s no secret that law students aren’t the most happenin’ group of folks, but I think you’re being pretty harsh. It could be worse. Law school will not be as fun as undergrad, if you did undergrad the right way. Your best bet is to find a handful of people like you and ignore the rest. You’re just bitter because you think you made a bad school decision, but in reality it’s pretty much the same everywhere.

Courtney: Nuh-uh. I know people who went to law school at [Fun Undergrad Party School] and they had a blast, always going out and having fun.

Mike: Yuh-huh. If you had gone to [Fun Undergrad Party School] for law school, you’d be just as annoyed by your classmates. There’s nothing to stop you from going out all the time here. I knew people at our school who went out all the time, and they were really annoying. And having more options as to where to go out doesn’t mean the people are going to be any better. After all, if that really obnoxious drunk girl that everyone hates had gone to any other school, she’d still be just as annoying, right?

Courtney: Okay, fine, but other schools have other graduate schools, so you can hang out with med students or MBA students or whoever, instead of just law students, so I could go out to bars and not be surrounded by classmates or undergrads or townies.

Mike: Courtney, you ignorant slut. Do you even hear what you’re asking for? Have you ever hung out with a med or MBA student? I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’ll take my chances with law students. I just think you’re letting your passionate bitter hatred of law school get in the way of reason and logic.

Courtney: Reason and logic having to do with law school? Now who’s being ignorant? Plus, I’m not being unrealistic…

Mike: No, you’re not being unrealistic…You want a law school filled with cool, laid back people to hang out with, but saving that you want a school that offers bars and other establishments where there are no law students, undergrads, or townies, filled with fun and exciting med and MBA students. Is this correct?

Courtney: Yeah…

Mike: No wonder you can’t find a man.

They're Looking for a Few Good Men

2006-10-27T12:22:00.000-07:00

I'm trying to start a business, so I need someone to employ me part time as an attorney straight out of law school. Needless to say, it's not easy. Especially since i graduated in the fat part of the curve, which seems to always come up in interviews, especially the one "C" I received. Here's how one of my interviews went.

Interviewer : "According to your transcript here, you got a C in Advanced Torts. What happened there?"

Russ: "You want answers?"

Interviewer: "I think I'm entitled."

Russ:"You want answers?"

Interviewer: "I want the truth!"

Russ: "You can't handle the truth. We live in a world where 100,000 law school graduates are plunked out onto the streets every year, hungry to pay off their student loans, thirsty for tortworthy issues. You want those attorneys to casually abandon the law as a youthful dalliance while they move into real estate or consulting. Well who's gonna make them do that? You? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You question my grades while you curse the law system. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know: that my legal inneptitude, while widespread, probably saves people from lawsuits. And my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves people from the anxiety of dealing with our labyrinth of a legal system. You don't want the truth because deep down in places you don't talk about at ABA funtions, you want me getting a C. You don't want me in that courtroom standing next to your ex-wife. You need me with that C, not knowing that the bird feeder in your backyard could be classified as a "nuisance". I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who sleeps under the blanket of legal impunity that my legal incompetence provides."

So, if anyone needs a part time attorney in Chicago, let me know.

Know Your Customer.

2006-10-24T07:26:00.000-07:00

The other day I was at the grocery store. While pausing and looking at the products a man approached me and said, "Can I share something with you?"

I was going to say, "Thank you but I already have a Book of Mormon", but I just nodded.

The stranger then said, "Have you ever heard of prepaid legal services?"

"Yes I have," I replied.

"Then you know that that with prepaid legal services you just pay a small policy and if an incident ever arises you'll have access to fully paid attorney to assist you..."

"Actually," I interrupted, "I am an attorney. So, essentially, all legal services I'll ever need have been prepaid."

The disappointed salesman stopped his pitch and glumly said, "Yeah. I suppose so."

"In fact, my prepaid legal services plan cost me $75,000. I bet you guys offer a better deal."

We shared a frank look and he said, "We sure do."

"Well, I wish I had run into you four years ago"

Like any good salesman, he had suddenly come up with answer to my objection. "Don't they say that if you use your own legal services you'd have a 'fool for a client.'"

"Tell me about it," I said as I turned and headed towards the liquor section.

It Had To Happen Eventually...

2006-10-23T08:00:00.000-07:00

I finally got a job. Not just any job, but a job I actually wanted and am looking forward to. I will post more details later (including how I almost blew it before I even got an interview), but for now, here is what I want to know:

I start two weeks from Wednesday. To all the people who are now stuck in the working world, what is the best way to spend the last two weeks of absolute freedom that I'll have for the next 40 years? What would you have done if you knew you had two weeks before work started, if you could do it all over again? Email me at barelylegalblog@gmail.com

Book Update #1

2006-10-18T07:21:00.000-07:00

As many of you know, we plan on writing a book. Actually, we have two books that we want to write; the first one will be geared towards the law school crowd, while the second one will be for a much larger audience and has a lot more potential to make us relatively rich. But we want to do the law school book first, and so that’s what we’re focusing on.

Part of the reason we kept the blog going after we graduated was to keep our readers updated on the book process. I’m not quite sure what we expected to be happening; perhaps being jetted off to New York by big publishing houses trying to woo us with expensive Manhattan dinners and meetings with smart, urbane editors who share our vision. And while I still hold out hope that that happens, we are learning that the publishing industry moves as slowly as the obese guy in your class when he gets to the third flight of stairs. Basically, at this point, we have written a proposal, which our agent (who is fantastic, by the way) sent out to a handful of publishers. Depending on what happens with those publishers, she will keep sending it out until someone decides to make a very smart decision. And when someone does, we’ll let you know.

In a nutshell, our law school book is going to be an anti-guide; an insider’s look at law school written by the average law student, for the average law student. It’s going to be brutally honest, funny, and hopefully informative. It’s not going to paint law school in a negative light, per se; rather, it’s going to be the honest appraisal of two people who didn’t like law school and found that a lot of people shared their view.

This brings me to the point of this post. Today, our agent let us know that a publisher had passed on our proposal. This isn’t a big deal in and of itself, but what did strike me was the reason why. After explaining that our proposal was very funny, and that the book could do very well, the publisher said that she thinks the authors need to come from “big name schools” and that our schools lack name recognition (which isn’t really true; our schools lack ivy covered walls.) Essentially the publisher was saying, “If you had gone to Harvard, I’d publish this book.”

This logic pretty much flies in the face of why we want to write the book to begin with (other than money). All the law school books out there suck because they are written by top students from big name schools, and are about as useful to the average law student as an advanced English dictionary would be in the kitchen of your typical restaurant; only a few people can actually understand it, and even fewer actually get anything useful out of it. This blog, and hopefully our book, is meant for the proletariat of law students, whose numbers far outweigh the big school elite. For every kid at Harvard or Yale or any of the other handful of elite schools, there are hundreds of law students on the other side who have to do more than show up and graduate to get a plum job. So when it comes to name recognition, I have no doubt that our lack of “elitist” pedigree will speak to a much larger audience than some “insider’s” guide written by a guy from a school that most of us had no shot at.

But if it’s name recognition that they are looking for, then look for the book under our new pen names: Russell Hemingway and M.D. Salinger.

Job Search Post #5

2006-10-16T08:02:00.000-07:00

As soon as I walked into the office, I got a weird feeling. The lobby was drab, with beige colored walls and tan couches, with no art work on the wall, and only a slightly pitiful looking fake plant in the corner. I followed the secretary back to the boss’s office, and I noticed that the employee cubicles were devoid of the typical decorations and individual touches that usually pepper modern offices. It didn’t sound like a normal office either; I didn’t hear any boisterous employee banter or even a spirited phone voice. The employees seemed subdued, speaking in hushed tones or busily staring at a computer screen. No one was up walking around. I made eye contact with one woman, and she looked warily at me with exhausted eyes. Just as I was starting to wonder what the hell was wrong with this place, I got my answer.

The secretary led me into the manager’s office, where I met the source of everyone’s discontent. A short, muscled man with a crew cut and a sour look on his face was standing behind his desk, waiting for me. I immediately guessed that he was an ex-Marine. Within 30 seconds, he confirmed my premonition and informed me that he did two tours in Vietnam. After 90 seconds, he twice informed me that he was the regional vice president, and that he had been brought in here from the Pittsburgh office “to right the ship” and that he had done just that. This man was clearly a stern disciplinarian, a micromanaging taskmaster who took a ‘my way or the highway’ approach. He had succeeded in hiring an office full of people who would roll over when he bullied them around. Finally, after his ego stopped talking, he started the interview.

At this point, I could sit here and write out the transcript of the first ten minutes of our conversation, but I won’t because it mostly consisted of him asking a question about law school, and then before I could answer, he would go and make a negative comment about lawyers. Now, I have no problems whatsoever with talking bad about lawyers. I do it all the time. But my comments are well-informed critiques coming from personal experience, not ignorant opinions lifted from a book of lawyer jokes. Nor would I have had a problem had the man been kidding around. However, I failed to find the slightest hint of humor or irony in his voice when he told me that “lawyers would have everyone burning flags and let terrorists run free”, apparently confusing lawyers with liberals. (I told you he was ignorant.)

Finally the conversation turned to the actual job, and with every answer I could see that he despised me. Granted, he didn’t know anything about me, but he must have seen my kind before. So when he asked the next question, he gave me the perfect opportunity to transform from “Interview Mike” to “Normal Mike”.

“Let’s say that you have to manage an office full of 25 people. What do you think the best way to do that is?”

“Well, there isn’t one best way to do that. I think the most effective managers are the ones who can get to each employee individually, and learn how to best motivate the individual. What might make X work at a high level might make Y pull away and alienate them. Some people like to be told exactly what to do and how to do it. Others like to be made to feel like they have an input in the decision making process. Others can be left alone with just the occasional pat on the back. The real talent in managing is to identify what works best for each person and to do that.”

Then I added the kicker. “Any idiot can stand in front of his subordinates and tell them what to do. Good managers are adaptable. Bad managers are not.”

He stared through me with a look that was previously seen only by the North Vietnamese soldiers he killed 30 years ago. Finally, he found the words to express what he felt. “Where did you learn that?” he asked, with utter contempt. “Law school?”

“No, it’s just common sense.”

And the job search continues.

Mike and Russ Email About Grey's Anatomy

2006-10-12T19:25:00.000-07:00

From: Mike
To: Russ
Subject: (none)
Date: Thursday, 12 Oct 2006 21:34:01 -0500

I am sitting here watching Grey's Anatomy with my girlfriend and we had the following exchange…

Me: I'm sorry, I cannot watch this shit any more.

Her: Why?

Me: Okay, so you have Patrick Dempsey, who is apparently "McDreamy" and every woman in the world thinks is amazing...

Her: Definitely

Me: And you have Chris O'Donnell, who's hotness you have commented on five times so far...

Her: Oh my god yes....

Me: And I am expected to believe that these two men are both pining after a squinty, pursed lip, lisping, slightly whorish woman who spends most of her time bitching about men and waxing poetic in conveniently placed soliloquies about life, when they could reasonably go out and have any woman they want.

Her: I guess.

Me: Well I don't buy it for a second. I cannot suspend disbelief here. Let's just say that I am very aware that I am watching a pipe dream written by some single, day dreaming woman. This is porn for women, and I'll have no part.

From: Russ
To: Mike
Subject: Re:
Date: Thursday, 12 Oct 2006 21:51:33 -0500

They need some male perspective on that show. I'd like to see the blonde handsome guy doctor go out to the bar each night in his scrubs, go home with some girl, take care of business, say he's got to get back to the hospital, leaving nothing but a bottle of penicillin on her dresser.

Attention Fellow Bloggers

2006-10-10T13:46:00.000-07:00

Someone recently asked me what it takes to get a link on this blog. The answer is surprisingly simple: Just ask, and link us in return.

I'll admit, we aren't the best linkers. Sometimes someone emails us their blog, with a link request, and I have all the intentions in the world to update our blogroll. But I forget, and their link is never added. But this week, since I'm bored, I decided to do a link cattle call.

If you have a blog and would like a link on ours, just shoot over an email and let me know. Don't be shy. I know there are lots of blogs out there who have linked us for a long time, so it's the least I can do. And don't take the lack of a link to your blog as some sort of insult; it's just laziness. So good or bad, we'll link you if you ask. So send me an email at barelylegalblog@gmail.com and I'll take care of it.

Update: Keep them coming. If you don't see your link on the side (or any link) it's because blogrolling.com is having issues, but don't worry, it's getting fixed.

Email Exchange With A Reader

2006-10-09T13:53:00.000-07:00

Hey guys,

My friends and I have been having a debate. What is the proper etiquette for missing class when you are sick? I say that you should miss when you are contagious, otherwise you should suck it up and go; one friend says you should go if you want, contagious or not; one friend says that you shouldn't miss class if you're sick becase you are showing weakness if you do, and one friend says that you shouldn't go if you're sick, because, "why would you?" Who is right?

Josh

**********************************************

Um...Is this a joke?

**********************************************

No, I'm serious, we need you to settle this. We have a bet going, and we decided to let you settle it. So please, who is right?

Josh

**********************************************

Congratulations, Josh. In this email, harmless at first glance, you were able to express everything that is wrong with law students in just 88 words. It would have taken me a trilogy of phonebook sized volumes to capture the essence of what you said about law students in just one paragraph.

You see, Josh, you were able to demonstrate the overall dorkiness of law students with the premise of your bet, while capturing the four main archetypes of law students through the individual stances of you and your friends.

Still with me, Josh? If not, let me elaborate. First off, who the fuck would sit around debating the "proper etiquette" for taking a sick day? Seriously, I cannot think of a stupider topic to debate, and yet, here you are, with enough difference in opinions to need to ask a neutral party to settle it. But that isn't the worst part, Josh. When I got the email, I figured, 'this must be a joke'. I even asked you if it was a joke, but in my heart of hearts I knew it wasn't, because you are a law student, Josh. I wasn't surprised at all when you told me it was a serious debate. So to answer my seemingly rhetorical question,who would sit around debating a topic such as this? Law students would. That's who.

But it was so much more than that, Josh. In each of your four unique opinions, you showed us just how warped the law student mind can be.

"I say that you should miss when you are contagious, otherwise you should suck it up and go."

Luckily, Josh, you aren't one of the bad ones. Your viewpoint is noble but misguided. It's considerate that you wouldn't want to go to class when you're contagious. But if not, you should suck it up and go? Why, Josh? If you are feeling ill enough to consider taking a sick day, what good will showing up do you? Is sitting in a class for an hour with a low grade fever and nausea going to improve your grade? Has anyone ever said, "I sure am glad I went to class that day I had diarrhea, or else I'd never have gotten that question right on the exam. I remember the professor talking about it between trips to the can."

"One friend says you should go if you want, contagious or not."

Now this is more like it. Not only is this person misguided, but he doesn't even have the decency to consider the classmates. No, this is the person who doesn't share outlines, raises his hand with a minute to go in class, and happily reports classmates for honor code violations. The fact this person even has friends to debate with is surprising to me.

"One friend says that you shouldn't miss class if you're sick because you are showing weakness if you do."

I never understood this attitude. What is this, boot camp? If someone misses class because they're sick, does this guy say "Looks like Sam can't deal with a little strep throat. How will he ever understand joinders? I can safely say I'll do better than him." What a tool.

"One friend says that you shouldn't go if you're sick, because, "why would you?""

Josh, I am glad to see you have one sane friend. My advice: dump the other two idiots and hitch your wagon to this guy's star. He's going places.

So do you need me to settle the bet? Okay, fine, here's my answer: You all need girlfriends.

Recent IM Conversation

2006-10-07T11:03:00.000-07:00

AnonymousReader: Guess what? I passed the bar!!!
barelylegalblog: congratulations
AnonymousReader: Okay I gotta run to work
barelylegalblog: you work?
AnonymousReader: Yeah, I have been working at my parents store while I am looking for a real job...Now that I passed the bar, I feel like it's beneath me
barelylegalblog: I need to congratulate you again
AnonymousReader: What for?
barelylegalblog: You apparently passed the Snobbery and Pretentiousness portion of the bar too
AnonymousReader: Hahaha...Yeah, S&P was my best class in law school
barelylegalblog: and it shows

A View From The Bottom Of A Law School Class

2006-10-02T16:31:00.000-07:00

We get lots of emails. Some of them are amusing, some of them are sad, and some of them are just so honest that they are both amusing and sad. This is an email we received today which pretty much sums up the futures of many of you (even if you don't want to admit it). Scratch that...she's probably doing much better than where you'll end up. Names and locations have been changed or removed at the request of the author.

I'm a recent law school graduate – ___________ School of Law 2005 – and here's a brief synopsis of my experience:

In late 2001, I was living at home in [Popular Mid-Atlantic Vacation City]-, bartending four nights a week, which was actually a highly lucrative career choice for someone with a BA (2000) in Art History. I spent all my tips earned for serving drinks by tipping others for serving me drinks, or buying clothes to wear out drinking. I complained when my parents wanted me to pay my own car insurance. Eventually, I realized that going back to school was easier than getting a god-awful real job. It also allowed me to suspend reality for another three years and excuse all my actions and inactions with the phrase "I'm a student." AND I would be able to move to a really cool new city. So I went to law school. In [Fun Desert Vacation Destination] .

I quickly found friends. I also found a gambling addiction…. But… back to the friends. With respect to the two close friends I made in law school, one dropped out after first year, one flunked out, and prior to those glorious achievements, the three of us nearly all got kicked out of law school for laughing in court while a rather unfortunate prostitute was arraigned. We had to write apologies to the dean and the judge, seriously. In the quagmire, I found a boyfriend… who, incidentally, had a wife. This boyfriend more or less saved my academic ass by teaching me Civil Procedure – to a solid C- level – in the course of 5 days so that I finished first year barely escaping academic probation.

Over the following two years, my dedication to my studies diminished dramatically, yet, strangely, my grades steadily improved. It reaffirmed what I had been convinced of for years – I am unable to self-destruct. The less I cared, the more I was convinced that I was a law school savant, destined to be discovered by some glamorous firm that would employ me for my natural mediocrity and impeccable instincts, and altogether overlook my absence of work ethic. This obviously did not happen.

I took the summer between 1L and 2L off, opting to spend my time lounging on the beach, occasionally bartending a night here or there, and dining and drinking with my married boyfriend. It was a summer of fantastical whimsy and utter avoidance. The summer between 2L and 3L, I worked for two lawyer friends of mine from [Popular Mid-Atlantic Vacation City], and on terms that can playfully be called "pro bono" – paid only by martinis and expensive bottles of wine, often consumed over lunch breaks. I used my paycheck-free status to excuse myself for showing up late or not at all, taking extended weekend vacations, and playing dangerous amounts of online Scrabble. I learned little of any pertinence to a possible career in law, mostly because "a career in law" was still far too disconcerting to take seriously.

Then came Third Year. Unprovoked, married boyfriend decided to leave his wife for me. The inevitable countdown to graduation occurred. I ran out of money and my parents refused to subsidize my career in professional sports betting. I was forced to work part-time waiting tables while frightfully considering the possibility that I may have to get a law-related job. I interviewed, and not well. My casual demeanor, personal charm and flawless conversational skills proved useless in the interview format. I decided that sometimes the best answer to a question was a question back to the interviewer. I thought these stodgy law types might appreciate someone who cares what animal THEY would be if they could be. Somehow, the artificiality of the interview process did reveal the truth about me – that I was completely unemployable in this realm.

While a strong sense of panic set in, my newly divorced boyfriend and I enrolled in a 2-credit class called "How to Start and Build Your Law Practice." The grade was based entirely on a final project called a "business proposal" that was, for me, a chance to make an artsy scrapbook designing letterhead and firm announcements, cutting and pasting pictures of classy office furniture, drawing blueprints and picking out hardwood floors. I got a B+, losing points only for my lack of examining financial pragmatism. Our class lectures consisted of a parade of lawyers delivering speeches about their successful practices. They always wore expensive suits and rarely mentioned the frightful phrases "zealous advocacy" "making a difference" or "pro bono." These lawyers, my boyfriend and I decided, were exactly who we wanted to be.

In his mind, I'm now aware, were dreams of business ownership, riches beyond belief, spending 24/7 to build something of which he could be proud, and doing all of this with his beloved girlfriend. In my mind were sighs of relief and joy for not having to endure any more interviews, for justifying taking 6 more months off before receiving bar exam results in October 05, and for installing hardwood floors and taking 3-hour/3-martini lunches.

We were able to fund this endeavor from the profits of the sale of his house in [Fun Desert Vacation Destination]. We both passed the bar exam and started our practice in October 2005. I somehow got stuck in this niche of doing [Boring and Depressing Area of Law], and I cannot articulate the extent to which I despise my life. But here I am, with real live clients, a website, a yellow pages ad, a 5-year lease on office space, and those goddamn overpriced hardwood floors. We just got a package in the mail reminding us to renew our malpractice insurance, and it is to me beyond all belief that one year has passed and I have not been sued for malpractice, investigated by the state bar, treated for a nervous breakdown, or had my stomach pumped.

Strangely, the firm is making (some) money, yet I have no idea how I have ended up here. Guys, I am spiraling out of control and cannot point to a definitive event whereby I could have prevented this hell, but I think I blame my parents for making me pay for my car insurance. (Not really. But this is the type of statement that best characterizes the level of absurdity of me being a lawyer.)

I just discovered your blog, and have thus far been immensely entertained. I guarantee you that no one could be less suited for the law while being so squarely ensconced in it as I am.

Reflections on Law School

2006-09-30T07:10:00.000-07:00

Someone recently asked me why I didn’t like law school very much, and it came down to one thing: the law is a serious business and, frankly, I am not a serious person.

I like jokes, and the law is no joke. One day you’re arguing in a wood paneled room, the next day 10,000 convictions are overturned because of a ruling. The WASPy dad from Legally Blonde was right; “Law really is for ugly, serious, and boring people.”

The more serious the subject, the less I cared. When my classmates would passionately make arguments about constitutional law, I didn’t bother to analyze them. All I could think was, “Jesus, he actually believes in this stuff.” I couldn’t imagine myself ever making a constitutional argument beyond some DUI search and seizure issue.

When guest speakers who were judges, clerks, or big firm attorneys told us that their greatest pleasure was “making an impact,” I made a mental note to steer clear of that hornet’s nest. I just couldn’t wrap my head around the concept of the law being this end-all-be-all concept that most of my classmates perceived it as.

I never once imagined myself as a judge or big firm lawyer. My parents both own small businesses. To me, the law seemed like a skill set for a small business. I picked up what seemed applicable, and left the rest to the eggheads.

While most of my classmates used every moment to buttress their future careers of power and prestige with studying and activities, I just went with the flow. This contrast seemed especially clear to me during Trial Ad when we each had to pick an evening each week to present. My classmates fought tooth and nail to get the evening they wanted, ex: “I can’t do Tuesdays; I take depositions from victims of Asbestosis who are only conscious from 6 to 9 on Tuesdays.”

Finally, when my name was called and the professor said, "Russell, do you want Thursday or Tuesday?”

I replied, "Either is okay. I'm just happy to be here."

People say they always want a “Pit bull of a lawyer”. Alas, I am an easy going Golden Retriever type.

P.S.: No wonder some counties have banned pit bulls.

Brother, Can You Spare 1500 Dimes?

2006-09-26T12:13:00.000-07:00

I was was making enchiladas the other day when my cell phone rang. I answered, hoping to hear about a job, but instead I was disappointed. And, it should come as no surprise that the source of this disappointment was my law school.

"Hi, Mr. [Mike]," a bubbly voice greeted me. "My name is Sarah and I am a freshman here at the University of ________, and I am calling on behalf of the University of _______ School of Law Alumni Association. How are you this evening?"

"A little bit disappointed," I said.

"Excuse me?"

"Never mind, what can I do for you?" (Knowing full well she wanted money.)

After getting my new address, the conversation changed abruptly. "So,when was the last time you visited the law school?" she asked. The question sounded rehearsed, and all the stranger coming from her bouncy, high pitched sorority voice.

"The last time I was at the school was the day I turned in my final take home exam," I said flatly.

"Oh okay…", she said. My caustic answer seemed to throw her off. "Well, are there any fond memories of law school you'd like to share for the alumni newsletter?," she inquired.

"Sure," I said, laughing. "The last day of school when I turned in my final take home exam, that was the best day of law school ever."

Sarah started giggling, and continued to do so throughout the next question. "So what are you up to these days?"

"Makin' enchiladas. Want to come over for dinner?"

"Hehehe...No, I meant career wise." Her giggling was getting out of hand.

"Still looking," I told her, not wanting to explain my job hunting situation to a giggly 18 year old.

"Okay, well, the reason for this call is…"

Here we go: She went into a long, choppy spiel about the law school, and new features it has added, and efforts to raise it's profile, etc., all stuff I knew to be just lip service. The proposed changes meant virtually nothing in reality to any current or future students. So when she finished, and asked for $150, I was ready.

"Sarah, here's the thing; as we just discussed, I don't have a job yet, so I don't have an extra $150 sitting around to donate. Why don't you call me in a few months, when I will have a job and presumably some extra cash, so when I decline to donate, I can actually look at the extra $150 I have and decide I'd rather waste it on something else."

There was another pause. I was afraid I had offended her. But, she burst out laughing. "You're much more entertaining than the other law school alums I call all night", she said.

"Sarah, you don't know the half of it."

Best Email We've Ever Had

2006-09-24T09:48:00.000-07:00

Reading your 'why is law school so much like high school' piece, I, a 1L at a well known southern law school, suddenly became a little more at piece with the world... I was, for a moment, no longer one of the 85% who sits about despising the 15% despised.

I let it all go, man. I saw through all the bullshit, it all got so clear: I even remembered the name of the girl from 10th grade whose name I can never remember when trying to count how many women I've slept with...

Then I further remembered last Thursday, when one of the bopping socialite butterflys fluttered about to every pastel colored polo in the room whispering plans for a secret, "cool people only, ghetto-fabuluz 40oz theme party".

my clarity fogged over.

and as for Thursday night: 15% of the 1Ls attended a secret party. 82% studied or had a drink with a friend. and, luckily, the 3% of our class who are black, were somewhere being grown-ups.

Job Search Post #4

2006-09-19T13:44:00.000-07:00

Interviewing is an inherently fake activity. The interviewer is being fake, in that he or she is trying to portray the company and the job in the most positive light possible, conveniently omitting the fact that your future boss has little man’s syndrome and coffee breath. You, the interviewee, are being fake in that you are trying to portray yourself as an idealized version of you, sort of the “you” without the lazy side and drinking problem. Both sides know that this is the case, and yet no one is willing to admit it. Is there any other social situation where two people can sit across from each other and lie, where each knows the other is lying, but accepts the lying as a better alternative than the truth…Well, other than dating? If employers knew everything there is to know about the people they interview, they’d never be able to fill the position because no one would ever be good enough. Conversely, if job seekers knew the full truth about the job and company they were interviewing for, no one would ever want to accept a job because all jobs have a downside.

The worst interviews are the ones where the interviewer doesn’t really know what he or she is doing, and has to fall back on a series of inane questions for which the desired answer couldn’t be more obvious. “Tell me about a time where you showed leadership abilities,” I have heard often. Unless you commanded some Army Rangers in Afghanistan or took charge of a hostage situation, there isn’t an answer for this question that really shows any actual leadership ability.

President of your fraternity? In my frat, we elected the least irresponsible person, hardly a ringing endorsement.

Student government? Is it really leadership if the organization which you led has no actual power?

Organized a project for the rest of the interns one summer? That just means you weren't competent enough to do a real job.

If I told an interviewer about my real leadership examples, I’d never ever get a job. No matter how qualified I was, I just don’t think they want to hear about how I successfully organized a large scale garage hopping expedition when I was 17, or how I talked a Mexican cop out of arresting my friends and I when I was 19 without bribing him. (Note: If you don't know what garage hopping is, send me an email or IM and I'd be happy to fill you in.)

So, regrettably, when presented with that question, I pause, put on a brave face, and go on about how I “took charge and saved” an important group project during my last year of college, while the interviewer nods encouragingly, knowing that I am feeding him a line of bullshit, which is exactly what he wants to hear.

Story Contest Winner

2006-09-17T12:05:00.000-07:00

From Don:

There were 160 victims - I mean students - who were accepted into law school with me. The first week of our first semester involved mandatory student orientation. All 160 wide eyed, naive, “Perry Mason wannabes” were crammed into the law school's largest class room/court room. We were told how lucky we were, we were told how proud they were to have us, we were told how much better our law school was than the ratings reflected, we were told how great a class we were - standard bull-hockey. We were told who was who, what was what, and where everything important was. We heard from the Dean of the Law School, the Alumni Director (prepping us to donate to alumni crap was obviously higher on their priorities than just about anything else) (as a footnote I tell them every year when they call asking for donations that until I feel like I got my moneys worth and until they stop bringing in every crackpot liberal they can find to brainwash future lawyers I am not the least bit interested), the Career Services lady (can you say "teats on a bore hog"?) then the Dean of Student Affairs.

Finally some useful information? He proceeded to tell us that unlike undergraduate (exactly like kindergarten I realized much to late in life) 1Ls have no discretion in their classes, their professors, or their schedules. In alphabetical order we were arbitrarily assigned to sections based on nothing more than the first letter of our last name (the arbitrariness of this was a precursor to the whole experience and the profession). We were all given the same classes, the same number of credit hours and we were informed that there would be no change whatsoever. Since our next two semesters were preordained and non discretionary we were told that unlike those who had attended undergraduate school at the university there was "no registration process for you." He then politely asked if there were any questions. Of course someone immediately raised their grubby little hand and asked "so when do we register?" Dead silence. The Dean of Student affairs quickly scanned for the Candid Camera and then very nicely and amazingly non sarcastically said "well as I said earlier you don't register we have already assigned you your schedule and classes and it is mandatory." On cue another brainiac raises there hand - “Yes” says the dean, to which the 1L says "where do we go to register for our classes." (I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP). I pulled a muscle rolling my eyes as the Dean reiterated that he had already registered everyone (even the stupid ones). I knew at that point that law school was going to be much more tedious and mind numbing than I was prepared for (if only I had had the insight to act on that knowledge!).

In fairness I must point out that neither of those two “goobers” made it out of the 1st year of law school (but I am quite sure that I have appeared before more than one judge in my career that was capable of making the same bone headed question) - but my first impression of law students was quite an impression.

You know what is really sad?

2006-09-13T06:45:00.000-07:00

We have a war going on where a dozen or more Americans die weekly, with no end in sight and no real point anymore...

A college degree is now required for jobs that didn't need a college degree a generation ago, and even then, nothing is guaranteed...

On top of that, the cost of education is soaring...

The government is slowly eroding away our constitutional rights...

And the one thing that gets young people really mad, finally ready to band together and fight, is the new facebook features?

Seriously, get a fucking life.

New Look at a Cliched Topic

2006-09-10T18:46:00.000-07:00

Russ and/or Mike,

I am a 1L, and have been in school for a few weeks now, and I have to ask...Why is law school so much like high school?!?!?!

I’m sure you have a good answer for this.

Kristy

Kristy,

First of all, way to make a fresh observation. Next up, are you going to ask why they don’t make the whole airplane out of the little black box? Perhaps a few President Clinton cigar jokes?

But despite the clichéd nature of your question, it is still valid nonetheless. While most law students make the inevitable law school/high school comparison at one point (and often, much more frequently), to my knowledge no one has ever tried to explain why this is the case, beyond the whole “lockers/assigned classes” theory.

In order to understand it, we must first examine the social structure of high school. If your high school was at all typical, then it broke down like this: 15% of the student body-the attractive, the athletic, and the dynamic- were the envy of the other 85%. Those 15% set the standard of cool. The 85% could either strive to be like them, or seethe with jealousy about them, or pretend not to care about them, but no matter what, those 15% directly or indirectly dictated the behavior of the rest of the student body.

Law school is made up primarily of the former 85%-ers. Without the attractive, athletic group to either emulate or despise, law students all jockey to fill the void at the top of the social hierarchy. Some do this by striving for academic excellence; others try to become socialites. But no matter the method, they are overlooking one major element: this is no longer high school! Social standing doesn’t determine who is cool and who is not.

At some point during the undergraduate years, the definition of “cool” goes from the standard high school definition to a more fluid, expandable definition. At this stage, “cool” is all about embracing who you truly are, and being comfortable with that. So if you like Star Wars and playing Halo 2 all the time, you are a dork. But if you admit that you are a dork and embrace it, then you are cool. Some law students miss this concept entirely. Still stuck in the high school mentality that social status determines coolness, they try to be something they are not. Instead of embracing the person they are, they try to be better than that person. This isn’t self-improvement; it’s self-denial.

Granted, not all law students act like this. In fact, many do not. But just a few people can bring down the maturity level of the entire class. Here is how it happens: Someone wants to be looked up to and admired, to be in that 15%, so to speak. But what they don’t realize is that the 15% doesn’t exist anymore, at least not like it did in high school. Nobody looks up to them because they are on law review or are the most obnoxious drinker or anything else. (If you want to be on law review or be the law school drunk because that’s who you are, then do it. But if you are doing it to improve your standing in the eyes of your peers, then you are part of the problem.) Their classmates get disgusted with them and their posturing, and start to complain about it, which makes the classmates the de facto 85%. So an odd balance is struck; even though the days of high school social structure should be over, they come roaring back, but instead of being split between the cool and the uncool, it is a split between the despised and the despisers.

But at a personal level, you can escape it. I was having a discussion with a 1L once, who was complaining about the high school feel, and continually bad mouthed and gossiped about many of her classmates, including some of her friends. When she asked me what she how she could escape the high school feeling, I told her that if she didn’t want to feel like she was in high school, then perhaps she should stop acting like an immature teenager herself. She didn’t like hearing it, but it’s true. If you can ignore the idiots around you and try to act with some semblance of maturity, you won’t feel like you have been transported back to the 10th grade quite so much, although you’ll never be able to fully escape it.

On the bright side, at least now you can stay out as late as you want…So that’s something…

FAQs

2006-09-06T16:26:00.000-07:00

Q: What are you guys up to now?

Mike: I just moved in with my girlfriend back to my hometown of Cincinnati, where I am looking for the most non-law related job I can find that doesn’t involve work boots or calluses on my hands. Since my full time employment is imminent, I am spending my last days as an unproductive member of society tinkering with my fantasy football teams, watching the Food Network, and getting reacquainted with all my favorite local eateries. Recently when someone asked me what I was doing that weekend, I replied, “Who cares? When you’re unemployed, weekends are meaningless.”

Russ: I am in Chicago, living with/off my girlfriend, and tinkering around with starting a business while half-heartedly looking for a non-legal job. Depending on the degree of success my business idea has, I might be trying to figure out which area of law requires less substantive legal thinking: bankruptcy or worker’s comp.

Q: What is going to happen to the blog?

A: We considered doing a long, drawn out, somewhat weepy goodbye post, but that seemed gay. We considered just deleting the whole thing, disappearing in a puff of cybersmoke, but that wouldn’t be much fun. So we’re going to keep posting. Why not? See those ads on the side? We make money off of those; like $100 a month. I know it’s not a lot, but technically it makes us professional bloggers, which is sort of like the arena league of professional writers. But even arena football players are technically still professional athletes.

Q: Have you guys considered writing a book?

A: Waaaaaaaaay ahead of you. We’ve been working with a literary agent since the spring on writing a book. We’ve written some sample material and she is going to start sending out proposals imminently. Hopefully it will work out. If a piece of shit like Law School Confidential can get published, then we could win a Pulitzer.

Q: What is the book going to be about?

A: We’re keeping that under wraps a bit, because we don’t want to jinx it. But it’s going to be like Gone With The Wind, War and Peace, and Catcher in the Rye all rolled into one, only set in law school. It will vault to the top of the best sellers list and stay there for a record length of time. It will be required reading for high school honors students. We are in talks with Steven Spielberg to produce the movie, and hopefully direct (fingers crossed). So as you can see, we’re cautiously optimistic. But I don’t want to build it up too much, so we'll keep you posted.

Time For Another Story Contest

2006-09-05T19:33:00.000-07:00

Okay folks, lets hear your best 'getting called on on the first day of class' stories. It can be something that happened to you, or to someone else, or even be a law school urban legend. The winner's entry will be posted.

Also, 1Ls...how has law school been different than you expected? Is it better or worse? Any other impressions you have, we'd love to hear.

Send anything to barelylegalblog@gmail.com

Sour Grapes

2006-09-01T07:46:00.000-07:00

I hated law school. In fact the more I think back on it the more I disliked it.

The objective ranking of subjective talent, the endless lectures about boring minutiae, the obsession with citation. I hated it all.

One thing I didn't really hate, however, were my classmates. Sure, lots of them were boring, pompous nerds but, realistically, so am I. So, if I ever disliked them I was only displeased with their features that I actually saw in myself. Most law students are actually surprisingly thoughtful and well spoken people compared to the general public.

But there was one guy who I did truly hate. Let's call him "Tim".

Tim was a short little wiener with a squeaky voice who, in my darkest law school days, I could point to and think, 'at least I'm not him.'

Tim was always happy to be in class. Never volunteering but always prepared when called upon. He never carried the scowl of being flustered or the empty look of boredom that most law students do.

In other words, he annoyed the hell out of me.

Then one day, he and I got to talking about our spring breaks. I always go somewhere really cool for spring break and was ready to do some well deserved bragging. Tim listened politely and then told me he was going to umpire some tennis tournament in Florida that spring break. He also mentioned Maria Sharapova was competing and he looked forward to calling her match.

"Well, try not to pop a boner on the court," I said, trying to minimize his accomplishment while I gritted my teeth in jealousy.

Another day in class some other student was thanking Tim for stitching up a wound. Tim shrugged it off and said, "It was easy. I get kids with open wounds every night."

Turns out, Tim was also a medical student who worked in the emergency room each night while I was at home complaining about 30 pages of reading.

He disgusted me.

A few months later one of the class' sweet, pretty and overtly Christian girls (there's always one) commented to Tim that she had seen him at church the previous Sunday. Tim smiled and said, "Yeah, most people don't see me there because I'm usually in back playing the organ each Sunday."

I wanted to throw Tim off a cliff.

Tim, if you're out there fulfilling your next accomplishment with ease and modesty, bypassing once again the angst and self-doubt the rest of us are cursed with, I want you to remember one thing: I'm taller than you and always will be.

Job Search Post #3

2006-08-29T08:45:00.000-07:00

It was recently suggested to me that since I am looking for non-legal jobs, I might need a cover letter that better explains how my skills and education translate over to the business world. Here is what I came up with:

Dear Sir or Madam,

I am interested in a [Blank] position with your company. I have a Juris Doctorate from [Redacted] and a Bachelors in Finance from the [Redacted]. My previous work experience and education make me a perfect candidate to help use best practices to make industry-specific critical business decisions that will propel the organization into the 21st century and beyond.

In my previous work experience, I excelled at facilitating the company’s vision and core values into shifting paradigms. I worked with cross-functional teams to help foster client relationships while maintaining a high level of professionalism and efficiency. I am not afraid to roll up my sleeves and push the envelope when it comes to making face to face presentations to industry movers and shakers. When you combine this experience with my educational background, you get a dynamic, proactive, results driven team player who is not afraid to think outside the box in order to add value to the bottom line.

I am eager to leverage my experience into a position where I can use tactical solutions and synergize emerging technologies into a proven business plan while getting onto the fast track to upper management, and this is just that position. I am always willing to push the envelope and refocus my energies to best live up to the mission statement. I am ready to apply my knowledge base and go the extra mile for your company. Please touch base with me at your earliest convenience so we can make a game plan to discuss all of the buzzwords I just used.

Sincerely,

Mike

Job Search Post #2

2006-08-27T10:48:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago I interviewed for a job which I wasn't qualified for. Actually, I am overqualified for the job, but according to the company, they want somebody with industry experience, which I don't have. But they granted me the interview for a reason, which I assume was either a) they wanted to see if I could convince them that I was right for the job despite my lack of experience, or b) clerical error.

Usually in interviews, I can tell how well I am doing. I have had interviews where I knew all along that I was nailing it and that I would get the job, and I have had interviews where the conversation was more awkward than the waiting room at Planned Parenthood. But this interview was different than any other I have ever had.

First we talked about my background and how it would translate over, and he seemed genuinely impressed and interested. I started feeling more confident about it, when all of the sudden he started talking about the ideal candidate for the job, and it was clear I wasn’t close to what he was looking for. My newfound confidence was rattled, so I started trying to steer the conversation back to how my background would translate over to this job. The interview ended on an upswing, with him seeming interested in me again, and getting the assurance I would hear from him soon.

It was like going on a date and having the girl tell me how great I am and how much she likes me, then in the next breath talking about a guy from work who she likes, then getting short kiss, and having her seductively tell me “I can’t wait to do this again!”

Friday, after almost two weeks, I hadn’t heard back, so I gave him a call. He seemed kind of startled to hear from me. “Oh…hey Mike…Well, I regret to inform you that you weren’t selected for a second interview.”

“Okay….had you planned on ever contacting me and letting me know, or did you just hope I forgot about it?”

“Honestly, I just forgot about you, so I guess I hadn’t planned on contacting you again.”

I got legitimately pissed. “Oh, that’s real professional,” I told him, and hung up.

Then it slowly dawned on me, “I just called someone else unprofessional. What is happening to me?!?!"

Welcome to Law School

2006-08-23T06:23:00.000-07:00

In the last week, I have been inundated with IMs from 1Ls who are about to start or just recently started law school. Typically, the 1L is seeking some sort of advice (which I am happy to provide) or some kind of reassurance (which I probably will not). But mostly, they want to know about my first days of law school. Why, I’m not sure. Perhaps they want to draw some parallel; “If only my experience is better than his, maybe I have a chance.”

I realized early on that law school just wasn’t for me. Remembering my early days of law school took some prodding. I repressed those memories, putting them in the same place that I put those ugly childhood memories of being teased and picked on. I trudged through my year first and a half unhappy with myself and my decision. This blog, started during my 2nd year is the equivalent to when I grew 6 inches and gained 40 pounds between 7th and 8th grade and went from picked on by bullies to protector of nerds. That slightly depressing allegory aside, here are my memories from the early days:

First, let me say that I was really, really naïve about law school before I started. I knew next to nothing about it, so I went in with an open mind. In hindsight, this was probably a mistake. Since I didn’t really know about the downsides, when I faced those downsides for the first time, it was that much more of a let down.

One thing stands out about the first day of class: it was the longest day of my life. I had four classes scheduled over five hours, but I felt like I was there for much longer. The time just crept by. Part of it was the expectations; I didn’t know what the next class would bring, so it seemed slower. But part of it was just how boring law school classes are. I recall equating it to the time I decided to take a manual labor job during a summer in high school. I had never done such work before, and when I did, I realized then and there why people go to college. That eight hour shift was the slowest eight hours of my life. I resisted looking at the clock for as long as I could, and when I did, I expected it to be close to lunch time. In reality I had been there a little over an hour. Needless to say, I didn’t go back the next day. That was sort of how my first day of school felt, only I returned the next day. I am still debating the merits of that decision.

One more memory: During orientation I went to the assignment board to check what I had to read for the first day. All of my classes had an assignment, except for torts. My torts prof had posted an assignment, but it was assigned to section 2. I was in section 1. Never mind that section 2 didn’t have him for torts, and that I was fully aware of that fact. Never mind that my classmates seemed to make the connection and realize his error. I looked at it and thought, “Cool! One less assignment to read this weekend!”

I got to school Monday, and people were talking about the torts case. I asked what case they meant, and they told me. I said, “But we didn’t have an assignment.” They all vehemently disagreed and pointed to the pages. I then realized, much later than the rest of them, that our torts professor had simply made a mistake. But no worries, I thought. If I was called on, I would simply explain the mistake and he’d move on. Right?

I know you are expecting me to tell you that he called on me, laughed at my excuse and ripped me a new one. But that didn’t happen. The nice thing about being in a section of 95 people is that you only have a slightly greater than 1% chance of being called on. And the odds were in my favor that day. However, nothing better illustrates my transition from naïve 1L to slacking 2L to jaded 3L better than this: My first year, I made the honest mistake of misunderstanding what was assigned and had the honest belief that the professor would understand. As a 2L, I would have seen that mistake and used it to my advantage by not reading and then pointing out the mistake to my professor and claiming ignorance if called upon. And as a 3L, I wouldn’t have bothered checking the assignment board to begin with, let alone read for the class. So incoming 1Ls, that is what you have to look forward to. Best of luck. If you need me, I’m here. It's the least I can do.

Job Search Post #1

2006-08-20T17:57:00.000-07:00

About a month ago, after taking the two months after the end of school off to sleep late, watch TV, and be generally unproductive, I started looking for a job. Now, I sleep late, watch TV, and spend a couple of hours or so each day doing “job search related activities,” whatever that means, which by definition is productive.

The job hunt is a slow process and I am an impatient person; needless to say, we don’t get along very well. However, my patience is on par with a special ed teacher compared to my mother’s, who was incredulous that I didn’t have a corner office and cushy salary after a week of scattering my resume around town. To say that my mom has a vested interest in my job search is an understatement. She is, by nature, a worrier. She worries about everything, and her latest worry is that I won’t find a job. Ever. And that I’ll have to move back home like some Italian mama’s boy and live with her. And she’ll have to support me while I wear track suits and fall in with some local toughs.

All of these worries come despite the fact that I now am a proud owner of a Juris Doctorate to go along with my undergrad degree in finance, an actual useful major that is desired by employers; that I have good interpersonal and communication skills and do great in interviews; and most importantly, that I really do want to find a job.

It should come as no surprise then, that several weeks ago when I had a job interview, she called to wish me luck, we had the following exchange.

“Did you wear a suit?”

“No, flip flops and shorts, and a polo shirt.”

“You better be joking.” Her tone was ominous and devoid of humor. Naturally, I further prodded her.

“Well my polo is tucked in…” She was about to go off, but I stopped her before she could start. “Of course I wore a suit, lighten up.”

“Good. I never know with you. What color shirt?”

“It’s like a dark blue with white stripes, and a solid tie.”

“WHAT?!?!?! YOU CAN’T WEAR A STRIPED SHIRT TO AN INTERVIEW! IT HAS TO BE WHITE OR LIGHT BLUE.!!!” You would have thought I told her that I had knocked up my girlfriend or decided to become a Hare Krishna.

“Relax, it looks fine.”

“I don’t care if it looks fine. They will judge you on what you wear. It’s just not interview attire, go home and change.”

“No. Let them judge me. If they don’t want me to work there based on what shirt I wore to an interview, fuck them.”

“I think it’s a huge mistake. Everyone else they are interviewing will be wearing a solid shirt.”

“That’s to my advantage. In a world of white shirt followers, I’ll be a striped shirt visionary.”

Postscript: The interview went fine, and they invited me back for a second interview. However, I decided not to take them up on the offer because I wasn’t overly impressed with the company, and they wanted me to start a lot sooner than I could. So the search went on.

Email of the Summer

2006-08-18T08:14:00.000-07:00

We received this the other day; I don't know the exact circumstances under which it was written, but I like to think the author hit his breaking point and decided to vent by sending us an email. He says it so well, I pretty much have nothing to add (which is very rare indeed).

Subject: THE WHOLE TRUTH AND NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH...

Thank you for being a beacon of truth to the innocent and naive contemplating law school. If I had it to do over again I would be an engineer or architect, but alas I am too old, bitter and jaded at this point to admit my mistake and start over from scratch. I too (being the approval seeking type I am) counseled with other attorneys and lawyers (there is a difference sometimes) about my vision of being the next great legal mind. They all - to the person - told me that it was not what it’s cracked up to be, that being a law student is not much better than being in the boil unit of the local medical facility, and that being a lawyer was a thankless, mind numbing, and usually unrewarding job. Instead of taking this solicited advice I was certain that I had stumbled onto directions to the mythical cities of Quivira, Cíbola, Shangri-La or El Dorado, or found the Fountain of Youth . . . I believed with all my heart they were saying these horrible things to keep me from entering the unbelievable life of enlightenment and joy that they greedily wanted to themselves. I was - with all this negativity - certain that I was headed for something so great and so wonderful, that an elaborate conspiracy had been erected to keep the weak at heart, or the cowardly, out of the “greatest profession” in history. Boy do I feel stupid now. It is closer to the “oldest profession” than the greatest. And while I have managed to distinguish myself and accumulate some degree of economic security, I am still overwhelmed every day with the feeling that I was totally screwed. More than ten years later half my graduating class that I know is out of the profession and happy or in the profession and as bitter as me. In quiet moments each and every attorney I converse with admits that they feel as I do about their chosen vocation. I know that any non-L reading this will probably feel as I did but at least I can sleep at night knowing that I told the truth about my profession. Keep up the good work guys.

Don

I Fought The Law, And Surprisingly, I Won

2006-08-15T10:19:00.000-07:00

Last Friday, I was on my way home from running a couple of errands, driving down a street I had traveled hundreds of times. I came to an intersection where the light was red and veered into the right lane. I stopped, looked to my left and saw no cars coming, so I made my right turn to continue on my way home.

Or so I thought.

As soon as I made the turn, I glanced into my rearview mirror and saw a police car coming up behind me. “Five-0, be cool”, I said to my dog, Ike, who was riding shotgun. That very next instant, he sped up to get right on my bumper and flipped on his lights. I cursed to myself, and pulled over to the side of the residential street I was driving on.

I put the car in park, rolled down my window, and watched in the side mirror as the cop approached my car. He was short and stocky, with dark blond hair that he wore in a closely cropped crew cut. He looked like a cop sent over from central casting. He arrived at my side, sized me up, and asked for my license and proof of insurance. I handed them over and he examined them. After a few seconds, he looked back at me and said, in a tone dripping with attitude, “So, do you think these street signs around here don’t apply to you?”

My inner smartass begged me to answer, “Yeah, pretty much,” but I resisted, mostly because I was genuinely confused as to why I had been pulled over. “What street sign are you referring to?” I asked.

“The one back there at the intersection that says ‘NO RIGHT ON RED, SCHOOLDAYS 7:30am-4:30pm,” he informed me, none of the attitude having left his tone.

“Oh, that one…Yeah, I saw it,” I replied, with a hint of arrogance in my voice.

He became incredulous. “Oh, so that street sign doesn’t apply to you,” he said, his voice filling with anger.

“Not today, it doesn’t. Today isn’t a school day.”

A wicked smile came across his face. He glanced at his watch, and said, “Well pal, last I checked today is a Friday, and Friday’s are a school day.”

Without saying a word, I pointed to the sign outside of the school across the street from where I pulled over, no more than 50 yards away from the intersection where I had made the allegedly illegal turn. In big black letters, the sign read: WELCOME BACK! SCHOOL STARTS AUGUST 21.

He read the sign and turned back towards me. “That don’t matter. School days are Monday through Friday, and today is Friday. You made an illegal right turn on red on a Friday, which is a school day, it don’t matter if school ain’t started yet.”

“Yes, it does,” I replied. “If they had intended to prevent right turns on red Monday through Friday, the sign would have read ‘No right on red, weekdays’…But it doesn’t. It goes one step further. They specified only school days. Thus, it doesn’t matter if they could have school on a specific day. In theory you could have school any day out of the year. What matters is if there actually is school on that day. So just because today is Friday doesn’t mean it’s a school day. It’s only a school day if school is in session. And according to that sign and the noticeable lack of activity around here, it isn’t.”

The cop’s eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched, and his face turned red. A vein appeared above his right eye, and for twenty of the longest seconds I can ever recall, he stared at me. The tension was palpable and the silence awkward. The only noise was Ike’s heavy breathing. Finally, his anger and embarrassment subsided enough to allow him to speak. “I’m gonna go run your license,” he snarled. “It had BETTER come back clear.”

He returned three minutes later and threw my license at me. His face was still red. “If I see you do anything around here, and I mean anything, I am going to pull you over and write you a ticket.” With that, he turned around and walked back to his car.

I pulled away, careful not to exceed the 25 mile speed limit. I turned to Ike and said, “That law degree is paying for itself, one $90 ticket avoided at a time.”

Don't Want to Practice?

2006-08-12T08:23:00.000-07:00

Or are you thinking about what your alternatives would be to practicing law?

If so, send us an email to barelylegalblog@gmail.com. We have a quick survey we'd like you to fill out. We'd really appreciate it.

Thanks in advance.

P.S. we're not going to make fun of your responses (as we've been known to do).

I Hate Thinking of Titles

2006-08-10T11:47:00.000-07:00

A friend of mine, who also recently graduated law school, relayed the following story:

Right after I decided to attend law school, my dad put me in contact with a friend of his, an attorney who worked for a large firm. We met for lunch, and at the outset he was condescending and arrogant, just looking to shoot me down. The first thing he asked me was, "How did you do on your LSAT?"

"I got a 165," I responded.

"Is that any good?" he asked.

"I suppose. It's in the 90th percentile."

He looked at me, trying to find the most delicate way to tell me something. Finally, he said, "Son, perhaps law school isn't for you."

Surprised, I asked why.

"Well, if 90% of the people did better on the LSAT, I just think you're going to struggle."

Yet Another Email Exchange

2006-08-07T15:31:00.000-07:00

From: Mike
To: Russ
Subject: Recent phone exchange
Date: Monday, 07 Aug 2006 16:34:29 -0500

Just got a call from a company I applied for a job with. The recruiter said she was calling about my resume, and then said, "So the $64,000 question, why aren’t you practicing law", setting the bait to either give my canned, rehearsed reply or be startled by the question.

Instead, I said, "Depends, how much time do you have?"

From: Russ
To: Mike
Subject: Re: Recent phone exchange
Date: Monday, 07 Aug 2006 16:55:36 -0500

Funny. Here is your story put through the Opinionista translator:

"Here's the $64,000 question" said the recruiter, a lithe young woman hungering to take a bite out of Manhattan yet still using clichéd mid-American phrases. Girlfriend was trying to procure me through the other line so I nervously hemmed and hawed, unsure of what to do. "Shoot me straight" the recruiter queried, as I could practically hear her Tiffany diamonds sparkling through the phone, "I need to know why you're not practicing". I had asked myself that question with great numerocity. Was it all a mistake just like her scolding tone implied? At last I stopped pouting in my Dartmouth class of 2001 pajamas and answered, "I want to be a writer".

Recent Email Exchange

2006-08-06T18:32:00.000-07:00

From: Mike
To: Russ
Subject: Why I Hated Law School
Date: Sunday, 06 Aug 2006 15:22:09 -0500

Russ, I was talking to a friend of mine the other day and I realized why I hated law school so much. First, let’s stipulate that everyone hates law school to a degree. Working off of that assumption, what bothered me was that other people didn’t seem as put out by it as I was. You know that I am not a bitter person in general. But law school made me bitter, at least towards law school. When I got out of my car everyday, it was like a black cloud appeared above my head, and followed me around until I got back out to my car after class, when all of the sudden the world would be sunny again. But no one else seemed to be like this. They all said they hated it, but then turned around and spent all their time with other law students, and joined clubs, and generally seemed to make the best out of it. And I couldn’t bring myself to make the best of it, so I was even more put out by it. Does that make sense?

From: Russ
To: Mike
Subject: Re: Why I Hated Law School
Date: Sunday, 06 Aug 2006 15:39:43 -0500

I don’t know if I follow you. What do you expect, everyone to make suicide pacts?

From: Mike
To: Russ
Subject: Re: Why I Hated Law School
Date: Sunday, 06 Aug 2006 15:43:21 -0500

No, what I am saying is, my problem wasn’t just law school, it was jealousy. Everyone else seemed to hate it too, but they made the best of it. I couldn’t. I just couldn’t make the best of the situation. I wish I could have sucked it up and found a way to enjoy it, but I couldn’t. And because other people could, I was jealous which made the whole thing that much worse. I guess part of it was my stubborn nature, part of it the degree of bitterness that had already built up. Some people can make the best of a bad situation, but I couldn’t, not this time. Maybe my coping skills suck.

I would have been a terrible addition to Ann Frank’s attic.

From: Russ
To: Mike
Subject: Re: Why I Hated Law School
Date: Sunday, 06 Aug 2006 15:49:12 -0500

Yeah, that makes sense.

Mike: “Hey, we're in here! I can't stand it anymore! ‘I believe that people are really good at heart?’ Are you crazy?!?!?!”

Incoming 1Ls,

2006-08-05T11:12:00.000-07:00

I know you all have dreams of being ranked in the top 10% and having the legal world be your oyster. But statistically speaking, you are just as likely to be this guy.

Ambition Run Amok

2006-08-02T06:55:00.000-07:00

I have a friend; let’s call her “Courtney”. Courtney, like many of you, is a law student. Also like many of you, she hates law school with a passion. Courtney works for a fancy law firm this summer, which she hates. And Courtney has no desire to practice law.

I figured that Courtney got into her predicament the usual way: she was utterly clueless before entering law school, and by the time she realized her true feelings, she was stuck. Assuming this was her story, I made a remark about it to her, which she quickly corrected.

“Oh, no, I knew it would be like this,” she told me curtly. “When I was in college I had friends who were in law school, and they told me all about how much they hated it.” I was about to interject, when she continued. “Then after I graduated, I worked as a paralegal at a giant law firm for a year. It was miserable; the people were terrible, some were really evil. I was a naïve 22 year old when I started. I know this sounds weird, but working at the firm, I lost my youthful innocence.” I was about to make a virgin joke, but she kept going. “All my friends who were in law school when I was in college had graduated and moved on to big firm jobs of their own, and they hated it too. Plus, I started researching law school on my own, and discovered that most people I talked to, perfect strangers who were recent grads or current students all told me not to do it. I knew exactly what it was going to be like, and that I would hate it.

When she paused to take a sip of water, I got a word in. “Wait…so if all these people gave you such a bad impression of it, and you knew you’d hate it, may I ask why you even bothered to begin with?”

I assumed that this profound question would give her pause, and make her ponder her decision. I was wrong. “It was my goal,” she said earnestly as she took a bite of taco salad.

There's a real over-importance placed on ambition. Sometimes it's not always the best quality. Wouldn't the world have been better off with a lazy Hitler? He would've turned in and taken a nap halfway through Poland. He’d awake later and forget all about Europe, and decide to learn how to play the guitar.

Random Self-Indulgent Story About Me & My Dog

2006-07-30T09:32:00.000-07:00

In the summer of 2003, before I started law school, I decided to get a dog. All my life, my family had dogs; they were always cute little furry creatures that my mom would put bandanas on and would prance around the house. These were great dogs, but I always wanted a dog more suited to me. It’s hard to feel masculine walking a Shih-Tzu down the street. So I resolved that when I finally got one of my own, I would get a dog that was quintessentially mine. This is how I came to own an English Bulldog, who I named Ike.

He was a good puppy; playful, friendly, goofy, and a total chick magnet. He never chewed up furniture or shoes, was housetrained fairly easily, and followed me everywhere I went. He was a great little dog.

Around the time that he turned six months, his bulldog personality began to really come through. He was stubborn and obstinate. He approached everything with the sort of persistent tenacity that made the breed famous. He absolutely had a mind of his own, and was never afraid to use it. If I would catch him doing something he wasn’t supposed to be doing, like chewing holes in the drywall, I would scold him and he would take it like a champ. As soon as I was done, he would go right back to doing what I had just interrupted.

When it comes to stubborn, obstinate, anti-authoritarian, persistent personalities, Ike met had his match. He would have walked all over a weaker person, but not me. When I tried to make him do something that he didn’t want to do, he would sit down, ears back, eyes wide open, and stare straight up at me, defying me to make him do it. When he did, I had no problem waiting him out. If he didn’t want to pee in the rain, I would drag him to the middle of the yard and stand there looking at him until he was done struggling to try and get inside, and finally relented. If he didn’t want his ears cleaned, we’d have a Clash-of-the-Titans style wrestling match until he finally gave up and let me do it. And I loved every minute of it.

Ike's Defiant Look

When he wasn’t quite a year old yet, I left him with my parents for the weekend, and needless to say, he did not behave himself. When I got home I was told all of his misdeeds. “He wouldn’t leave Oscar and Mazey (their spoiled rotten Shih-Tzus) alone,” my mom told me. “He wouldn’t lie down and rest, he just was relentless in trying to get them to play. He is noisy, and just ran around all day and night. And when I tried to tell him what to do, he just sat there and looked at me like there was no way in hell he was going into his cage.”

“Yeah, he’ll do that,” I laughed.

“It’s one thing if you can handle him, but we can’t. Why don’t you take him to obedience school?” This seemed like a good idea. He behaved with me, but not with others, and if I wanted people to dogsit for me, he would need to learn to calm down and listen. Although I loved his stubbornness and independent spirit, I knew it was probably a smart thing to do. I researched obedience schools in the area, and learned that a top dog trainer was around here. I called and made an appointment for a free consultation. I liked the guy, and he said Ike would do better in one-on-one sessions. “Bulldogs are notoriously difficult to train. They take lots of work, but I can do it.”

“Don’t be so sure,” I told him. “He’s a stubborn little guy.” I decided to schedule three sessions for $100. “You might need more than that,” he said. I told him that if he was doing well, I’d schedule more sessions, but if it was apparent that it wasn’t going to work out, then I didn’t want to be out more non-refundable money.

We arrived for our first session, which was held in a big warehouse-like room. The first thing the instructor wanted to go over was the ‘sit’ command. Ike was a master sitter. I had been working on his sitting since he was a puppy, and it showed. He sat perfectly every time for the instructor. “This guy might be easier than I thought,” he told me. “Don’t count on it,” I said. Since Ike sat so well, he decided to move onto the ‘stay’ and ‘come’ command. He took out a treat, showed it to Ike, and told him to sit. Ike did. Then he said ‘Stay!’, and backed away, about 30 feet. He stopped, and called out, ‘Ike…Come!’ Ike barreled across the room, and received his treat. The trainer looked at me slyly, as if to say, “I told you so.”

He took out another treat, showed it to Ike, instructed him to sit and stay, backed away, stopped and called Ike again. Ike ran across the room, and got his treat. “I don’t know what you meant when you said he was stubborn. He’s a star!” the trainer exclaimed, clearly enamored with his own abilities. And I had to admit, I was impressed too. Had I been doing something wrong? Was Ike easily controllable all along, only I wasn’t fit for the task? Just as I thought this, the trainer again told Ike to sit and stay, and backed across the room. He called Ike to come, and Ike bolted in his direction. But halfway across the room, Ike suddenly put on the brakes, skidding on the concrete floor, and ended up in a sitting position, his head held high, ears pinned back, eyes wide, with a look on his face that said, “I know you are trying to train me, pal, and I don’t appreciate it.”

The trainer was baffled, and tried to get Ike to work with him, but Ike flat out refused. No amount of treats could entice him into cooperating. After 45 minutes of the one-hour session, the trainer quit trying, and said, “He’s a tough one. I suggest that you enroll him in our academy. I’ll take him for three weeks, work hard, and when you pick him up, he’ll be a changed dog. The cost is $2000.” I declined, and not just because of the price. When I watched Ike skid across the floor and defy the trainer, I decided that I liked him just the way he was.

Postscript: Ike’s puppy behavior was quite typical of bulldogs, I learned. They continue to act like puppies for two years. Eventually, he mellowed out and now spends most of his day sleeping and chewing giant rawhide bones. He still loves to play; some neighbors have puppies that he romps with until he tires out and decides to plop down. As gentle as he is with these dogs one-fifth his size, he is just as protective of them. Recently, when a strange dog lunged at one of his puppy friends, Ike went from docile and jovial to full on ready-to-attack mode, showing a ferocity that I had never seen before, ready to throw down with a large aggressive dog that got too close to his puppies. As for Ike and me, we still butt heads over things such as who gets the good spot on the couch and how far we are going to walk, and I still win. When I said I wanted a dog that was more suited to me, he was exactly what I meant.

Ike, with a puppy friend

The Bar is Over...

2006-07-26T16:02:00.000-07:00

...and now all I'm left with is the thought, 'Did I get 60% of the questions right needed to pass?'

Actually, I've found the best way to reassure yourself is to remember that only 20% of people fail. The trick is to count that 20% out and realize you're not one of them.

Here are my calculations based on my classroom of 50 bar exam takers:

* 5 people sweating freakishly who's skin broke out during the 6 hour test. I'll assume they freaked out and failed. That's 10%
* Two people didn't show up, and are counted as fails. That's 4%
* One girl's phone went off and got kicked out and counted as a fail. Another 2%.
* Guy with a ponytail obviously has very poor judgment which I'm sure will be reflected on the bar. Another 2%.
* Southerner who I'm sure will miss all the cosanguinity questions on the Family Law portion. We'll give him 50/50 odds so that's 1%.
* Idiot, who after hearing the instructions that he was to have nothing in front of him except pencils and his ID, asked "My wallet's in my pocket. Is that OK?"...Wait a minute, that was me.

Anonymous Lawyer Book Review

2006-07-25T09:26:00.000-07:00

We both had a chance to read Jeremy Blachman’s Anonymous Lawyer earlier this month, and we both agreed that it was surprisingly good. I say “surprisingly” not because I don’t like the Anonymous Lawyer blog, but because was able to create a conflict with a definable story arc while sticking to the core theme of the blog (a hiring partner at a large firm blogging about firm life).

The entire book is told through blog posts and email exchanges, and this is done very effectively. The blog posts in the book take on the same over-the-top tone that the posts on his blog do; you know he is exaggerating, but you are never sure by how much, while the emails serve the purpose to move the story along and humanizing him (to a small degree). Critics of the blog (and undoubtedly the book) are typically defenders of the big firm lifestyle, who dismiss the blog and the book as a wholly inaccurate portrayal of BigLaw. That criticism might be valid, but the fact that so many other who work in BigLaw agree that Anonymous Lawyer is eerily like their real life jobs makes me wonder if it isn’t all just a matter of perception. Some have accused Russ and I of being anti-BigLaw; this really isn’t the case. Most people who I have met who want a firm job know exactly what they are getting themselves into, and I admire that. Others think they do, but find a reality much different from their expectations. The truth, like with most things, probably lies in the middle. I have always said that people who want a big firm job deserve exactly what they get, whether that is a satisfaction from having a career at the top of the industry and a very high salary, or depression and disappointment from getting involved in a lifestyle that they couldn’t handle.

An underlying theme that I gathered from the book is that Anonymous Lawyer is a deeply depressed individual who has tried to fill emotional voids with career achievements and the accompanying prestige. But it doesn’t always work out this way. One of my favorite parts of the book had a blog post about his upcoming high school reunion, and how he was looking forward to showing all the people from high school how successful and powerful he was. The next blog post expressed deep disappointment about how none of his classmates had heard of the firm or even knew what a partner did, and generally didn’t really care either. Jeremy did a great job of exploring how within the legal community, title and prestige mean everything but that outside of the legal community, those things are meaningless to the non-lawyer, and those who think otherwise are just heroes in their own minds. Ultimately, the book comes to a point where the reader is left rooting for Anonymous Lawyer to succeed, despite how unlikable he is. The story is fast paced and easy to read, well-written and cleverly executed, and no matter what your take on the big firm life is, a must-read.

Buy it here

Let's Make A Deal

2006-07-24T06:59:00.000-07:00

It's no secret that much of my law school "success" can be attributed to commercial outlines. I amassed quite a collection of them over the years, and since I have no use for them, why not sell them to you, the reader.

For my money, the best outlines on the market are Gilbert's, and thus, that is the brand I have. These will cost you upwards of $30 each if you buy them new, but I'll sell these outlines (which are like new) for much cheaper.

The 1L Package- This will get you Con Law, Civ Pro, Torts, Contracts, and Crim Pro for the low, low price of $50 plus $8 shipping. So for $58, you get five commercial outlines, a value of over $130, and I'l throw in a Crim Law-In a Nutshell for free. So that is five commercial outline, mint condition, plus a nutshell book, for $58. That's quite a deal folks. (Note: If crim pro isn't required the first year and you don't want it for later, I'll take it out and sell the other four, plus the nutshell book, for $48. First come first serve.)

The Business Nerd Package- For the upper level law student with a business background, there is going to be much temptation to take classes related to your business knowledge. That's why I put together this package of commerical outlines for Securities Regulations, Individual Income Tax, and Taxation of Business Entities (i.e., Corporate Tax, as mentioned in Confessions of A Bad Law Student) for the price of $30 plus $8 shipping. Any two of these books will be $35 total with shipping, and an individual book will be $20 with shipping. Again, first come first serve.

If you are interested, email me at barelylegalblog@gmail.com and we'll work it out.

***UPDATE***All the books have been sold. Thanks to all those who inquired

Recent Email Exchange

2006-07-20T15:28:00.000-07:00

From: Mike
To: Russ
Subject: The Hills
Date: Wed, 19 July 2006 20:47:28 -0500

My favorite show on TV right now is The Hills; but it reminds me of a quote from Daisy in The Great Gatsby: “I'm glad it's a girl. And I hope she'll be a fool -- that's the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool.”

From: Russ
To: Mike
Subject: Re: The Hills
Date: Wed, 19 July 2006 20:55:12 -0500

I don’t think anything could better sum up your odd combination of lowbrow and highbrow tastes than that email you just sent me.

Each To His Own

2006-07-19T15:11:00.000-07:00

During Law School orientation they tour you through the campus. You look around during the tour and it smacks of familiarity: classes with the same people all day, lockers, a cafeteria. Then it hits you and you realize, ‘This place is set up exactly like high school!’

Naturally, you revert to your high school instincts and your mind races, ‘Gotta fit in! What clique do I belong to? Who am I better than? Who am I beholden to?’

I quickly found a group of similarly preppy white guys (which in law school are in overabundance) to hang out with. Comfortable in my clique, there was nothing left to do but hope they’d open up football tryouts as I was now 60 lbs heavier than I was in high school.

Not all people see law school as high school, though. Some see it as a “do over” for undergrad. For them, law school holds the promise of parties, girls, and drinking. One such character was a fellow by the name of Jonathan.

Jonathan hadn’t matriculated directly into law school from undergrad but had worked a few years and was glad to be back on campus. While the rest of us were still dipping our toe into law school social scene with trepidation, Jonathan was wallowing in it. Jonathan talked to everyone, hosted social events, invited himself to others.

When we all picked our seats the first day, everyone segregated themselves: Me and the preppy guys in the middle left, some jocks discussing fantasy football in the back row, and 50 nerds taking most of the other seats (I think I saw some Magic cards, even). Jonathan refused to fall into a clique, though. In fact, he decided to sit in the hot girls row.

I have to admit I was impressed. Jonathan seemed to be having good and regular conversations before and after class with the hot girls thanks to that seat.

‘Maybe this wasn’t high school, actually,’ I thought, ‘If those hot girls will talk to Jonathan then the high school social dynamic must truly and finally be broken. At last, law students have risen above the base human need to divide and conquer through social positioning’

Then one day the hot girls all showed up early to class. The entire “hot girl row” was filled because now there was one chair missing, Jonathan’s chair.

When Jonathan finally showed up he had to sit in the front row with the old guy and the LLM, literally inches from the professors spittling lectures.

After that day, a new calm pervaded the room. The hot girls occupied their row unmolested. The jocks dominated the last row. Jonathan slinked in each morning to join nerds in the front, and once again, the universe was in balance.

Fun With Apartment Hunting

2006-07-17T20:21:00.000-07:00

I am in the midst of apartment hunting, which is always a pain. My search criteria includes “not the trendy area with lots of yuppie jerkoffs,” “not the trendy area with lots of pretentious artsy types,” and “not the ghetto.” My task is even more difficult because of my dog, Ike. I have to find apartments which will let me have a 50 pound dog live there. Before I bother to go look at a place, I call first to make sure they allow pets, and allow pets of Ike’s carriage. I found one such place today, but the lady informed me that no 1st floor units were available, and that Ike was too big to live on the second floor. “I’m sorry, we only allow pets under 35 pounds in second and third floor apartments,” she told me. I asked why.

“Dogs over 35 pounds are too noisy to live above someone, so we limit them to the ground floor.” She sounded slightly irritated.

“I understand that,” I said. “But let me ask you this: I weigh 220 pounds, and if I didn’t have a dog, I could rent any unit you have, right?”

“Um…well, yes…I don’t understand where you are going with this…”

“You said that a dog over 35 pounds is too noisy to live above someone, so they have to stay on the ground floor. Well, I weigh four times what my dog weighs, and I could clomp and stomp around all day and it would be fine, correct? Which is noisier, me or my dog?”

“Uh…I guess you are…I never really thought about it like that. I guess it’s a valid point.”

“Okay then…so can I come look at the second floor apartment?”

“No, like I said, your dog is too heavy, and that’s the policy. And from what I am gathering, I’m not sure we would want you living on the second floor either,”

The Douchebags Speak Out

2006-07-14T19:52:00.000-07:00

I still wear my high school shirt and hoodie. I went to a competitive NYC high school and I am DAMN PROUD. (not to mention, the high school is a big plus for hiring as well within NYC)

You should just stop picking on "douchebags," you might be more wrong than right.

Heather

Heather,

I'm totally with you. I still wear my Kaiser High School Track Letterman's jacket, whenever I can. I'm DAMN PROUD, too, of my 5 min 32 sec mile (and employers all want a guy who's quick on his feet, right?)

Russ

Dude...

2006-07-14T10:44:00.000-07:00

...what is up with #16 on your how not to be a douchebag post? What’s wrong with wearing fraternity clothes in law school? This is just some bullshit anti-Greek hysteria. You were probably that guy in college who didn’t join a frat and spent the whole time jealous that they were having more fun than you.

Dude, actually, I was in a frat. That’s where Russ and I met. It was a blast; all of my best friends are from my fraternity and I wouldn’t trade that experience for the world. I think people who don’t go Greek are missing out on a great opportunity. However, when I left college, I left my fraternity days behind me. I gave away almost all of my shirts to other guys in the house. I stopped tying my identity to some Greek letters. I know what you’re going to say: “But if you have an interview with another person from your fraternity, you’re way ahead of the other candidates.” Yeah, I know that. It’s on my resume (in small letters). If anyone actually cares that I made a choice to have a social life when I was 18, and wants to give me a job because of it, all the better.

As for wearing your fraternity clothes when you’re in law school, I suppose there is one acceptable situation: Hangover wear. If you are out drinking one night, wake up and decide to go to class for some reason, it’s acceptable to throw on a fraternity shirt along with your warm-up pants or jeans. However, rules still apply: The shirt cannot be tucked in. A tucked in shirt shows intent to look stylish, and you simply cannot look stylish in a fraternity shirt if you are no longer in college. Hooded sweatshirts can only be worn when your day of classes starts earlier than 10am. And fraternity hats should not be worn under any circumstance, unless you are going bald and want to hide your shame.

Wearing Greek shirts in law school is the equivalent of wearing high school letter jackets in college. If you do it, people will notice and you are “that guy”. Besides, wearing Greek letters in law school doesn’t make much sense. Why announce to the world you are an elitist in an institution full of them?

Bar Review Observation # 4

2006-07-11T19:19:00.000-07:00

Barbri was brutal today. The subject was MPT which, apparently, is just fact spotting (learned that 1L year) and instruction following (learned that in 3rd grade). It was so slow and pointless that a few people left during the first break. Then people started walking out during the lecture. The crowd started to thin out and until all that was left was a few self-loathing souls starring at a $2500 video.

Now you’d think this would happen often during 4 hour lectures about Commercial Paper. But this was, believe it or not, the first mass walk-out.

Then I remembered a humorous story of another walk out.

My friend Brett from Blafayette invited his grandparents out to visit him in Blafayette. What does a 24 year old guy do with his grandparents? Usually visit them, eat your grandma’s pot roast, lift something heavy that your grandpa can’t without hurting his back, and listen to how your cousin Jeremy is med school.

Brett had to fill the evening somehow. His grandparents were old, so he thought they might like to see someone else who is old. So, he bought tickets to George Carlin.

Now, to say Brett’s grandparents are conservative is an understatement. There were two things they didn’t stand for, democrats and, except for the occasional N-word, profanity. Needless to say, George Carlin’s liberal attitude towards both politics and censorship didn’t go over well. Brett’s grandparents walked out and the three of them settled for enjoying an awkward ice cream together instead.

I sat in class for another 5 minutes and then walked out, myself, while professor Spak kept jabbering on.

“Man,” I said to myself, “This guy is no George Carlin.”

20 Tips to Avoid Being A Douchebag in Law School

2006-07-09T18:48:00.000-07:00

We have been getting lots of requests lately from anxious 1Ls-to-be, asking for advice on a variety of topics, from “how close should I live to school” to “what is the best method to highlight my casebooks”. My advice to them is not nearly as narrow as their questions. Simply put, I tell them not to go. Sadly, these folks don’t realize that if they are asking me for law school advice, things probably aren’t going to work out quite like they hope. But if they refuse to listen to me, and insist on starting school in the fall, I will dispense one crucial piece of advice: Don’t be a douchebag. Here’s how:

1) Don’t ask random bloggers about how to highlight your casebooks.

2) Don’t be the person at orientation talking about how you have already done the reading for the first day.

3) Actually, don’t read for the first day of class before orientation starts.

4) Don’t make a color coded graph of when you are going to study and for what. And if you do, please, don’t share it with other people. (Seriously, I actually was subjected to a detailed explanation of someone’s study plan at orientation.)

5) The following words should never leave your mouth: “I pulled an all-nighter at the library”; “I started outlining after the first week”; “I started outlining after the first month”; “I started outlining before Thanksgiving Break”; “My outline is longer than yours.”

6) Don’t announce your intentions to be on Law Review, even if it’s the one goal that would make your life complete.

7) And don’t “coincidently” buddy up to 2Ls on Law Review either. Your intentions couldn’t be more obvious if you sent them a dozen roses and a pair of your underwear.

8) Don’t go introduce yourself to your professors. They don’t care who you are, nor should you want them to know who you are.

9) Don’t wear work clothes to school unless you either just came from work or are going directly to work. No one is impressed.

10) Unless you have had major surgery on your back, do not buy a rolling book suitcase thing. If you can’t carry your books on your back, hit the gym.

11) Don’t have a douchebaggy name like Jordon, Jacob, Moiz, Kyle, or Ethan. Seriously consider a name change.

12) Don’t email us and announce your intentions to start a blog and become our successors. If we had a dollar for every time someone did this, we’d have enough to buy one of each item on the McDonald’s Extra Value menu.

13) Don’t brag about having lunch with your professor.

14) In fact, don’t have lunch with professors.

15) Don’t raise your hand and arrogantly give the professor an answer. You came here to learn the law, don’t act like you already know it. You don’t know shit.

16) Don’t wear your fraternity shirts to law school. I don’t care how great your Kappa Sigma Fall 2004 Annual Moonlight Semiformal Barn Dance was; now you just look like a tool.

17) Do not refer to books like One L, or Law School Confidential for guidance. Even if you have read these books, never ever, when a situation arises, say “Well, in
One L, Turow says…”

18) Do not, under any circumstances, raise your hand when there are five minutes or fewer left in class. And if someone who routinely does this should happen to get struck by a car, his classmates cannot be blamed if they don’t rush to his aid.

19) BarBri will try to get you to reserve your seat as a 1L. Keep walking. It’s probably a good idea to make sure you can pass first year classes before you start worrying about the bar exam.

20) Finally, don’t be the person that schleps the Westlaw water bottles the size of a big gulp around all the time, and causes a huge backup at the water fountain because it takes seven minutes to fill. Just because it's free doesn't mean you have to use it. Save a shred of dignity.

Law School Cool

2006-07-06T10:49:00.000-07:00

Mike and Russ,

I have noticed a running theme on your blog that you like to call law students nerds, and generally say that they aren't cool. Speak for yourselves. I don't know where you guys went to school, but here, there are lots of cool people. Not everyone is a nerd, and some people are really cool. So before casting every law student as a nerd, realize you haven't been every school and met every law student.

Other than that, love the blog.

Chris

(If you use this email on the blog, please don't print my real name)

Chris,

Oops, I accidently used your real name. Oh well.

The fact that you analyzed our blog enough to extract a "running theme" from our posts proves your own nerdiness right there. But to address your overall concerns, let me pose this to you: Coolness (whatever it may be) is, like all other things, relative. Think about the coolest character in TV history: The Fonz. Leather jacket, motorcycle, greasy hair...the man was the essence of cool. But look a little closer, and you'll realize that Fonzie wasn't really that cool. I mean, how cool can you be if the next coolest guy in your clique was Richie Cunningham? Throw in Ralph Malph and Potsy, and it's clear that The Fonz understood the Big Fish/Small Pond phenomenon. Surround yourself with nerds, and suddenly you look that much better.

Law school works in much the same way: A person with some decent social skills and a little bit of an attitude suddenly becomes The Fonz when surrounded by a sea of Richies, Ralphs, and Potsys. Had Fonzie tried to hang out with the other greasers, he would have gotten his ass kicked. That's why they hung out at the Asian guy's diner all the time. Make no mistake: Darry, Dally, Ponyboy, Two-Bit, and the rest of the Outsiders wouldn't have let him into their group. He reeked of Soc.

So when you see a "cool" law student, remember: The Fonz was just Henry Winkler with a pompadour.

Just Got A New Ipod

2006-07-05T08:01:00.000-07:00

...and it has changed my life. Below are scenes from the past week:

Street Activist: "Excuse me, Sir. Do you have a moment for Greenpeace?"

Russ: "Brown Sugar, How come you taste so good..."

--------------------------

Homeless Guy: "Spare Change?"

Russ: "California knows how to party, knows how to party..."

--------------------------

Girlfriend: "Could you take the garbage out?"

Russ: "Gloria. Gloria. I think they got your number..."

In another life....

2006-06-30T13:37:00.000-07:00

While I have a girlfriend whom I love deeply, a man's mind can't help but wander. If I were single, I'd definitely date a woman who had a big firm job.

Some guys would find a big firm associate girlfriend emasculating but, for me, it would be the perfect woman: At Work All The Time + Lots of Money = Less Nagging + Can Afford a Maid to Pick Up After Me.

Here's how I imagine it going....

Russ: Wow, 11 pm? You're home late.

Big Law Girlfriend: Yeah, a statute of limitations was going to run and we had to decide whether we were going to file or let it run to reduce our own joint liability. I have to have a memo on the partner's desk by tomorrow morning, so I still have work to do.

Russ: I know what you mean. The TV was on the fritz, today, and I had to figure out if it was the cable or the TiVo box that was broken or I was going to miss a "Magnum PI" re-run...Don't worry. All I missed was the theme song.

But the real fun would be attending Big Firm social events with the Big Firm Girlfriend...

Big Firm Male Associate: Can't complain about the salary. I live in a big apartment down town.

Russ: So do I.

Big Firm Male Associate: And I make impulse purchases without looking at the price tag.

Russ: So do I.

Big Firm Male Associate: But, I have to work slavishly in a high pressure environment.

Russ: So did I...until my girlfriend bought an electric cat litter cleaners. Now my entire day is free.

What could have been.

Recent Exchange

2006-06-29T03:32:00.000-07:00

Russ: Hey, do you download music?
Mike: When I do, I use Napster.
Russ: You actually pay for it?
Mike: Yeah, if I really want it.
Russ: You're crazy.
Mike: Man, I can't sit here and steal music in good conscience while the surviving members of Blind Melon go without that second Jaguar. That just isn't right.

Go ahead and google the words "barely legal." Believe it or not, we are the #2 google search result for that famous phrase. In this porn addled world, that's quite an accomplishment.

We've often speculated when Larry Flynt will serve us with a cease and desist order so, until then, thanks for reading!

Don't believe us? Think we're just cynical?

2006-06-24T09:41:00.000-07:00

...Well the Wall Street Journal agrees with us. Here's there latest article. (You need a password to reead it so I'll just repost it below). In the June 23rd, 2006, Wall Street Journal, Cameron Stracher writes:

The legal profession is really two professions: the elite lawyers and everyone else. Most of the former start out at big law firms. Many of the latter never find gainful legal employment. Instead, they work at jobs that might be characterized as "quasi-legal": paralegals, clerks, administrators, doing work for which they probably never needed a J.D.

Although hard data about the nature of these jobs is difficult to come by (and relies on self-reporting, which is inherently unreliable), the mean salary for graduates of top 10 law schools is $135,000 while it is $60,000 for "tier three" schools. It's certainly possible that tier-three graduates tend to gravitate toward lower-paying public-interest and government jobs, but this lower salary may also reflect the nonlegal nature of many of these jobs and the fact that these graduates are settling for anything that will pay the bills.

At $38,000 a year for law school, plus living expenses, law-school graduates certainly have a lot of debt ($60,000 on average, upon graduation). For this price, college students and their parents should be thinking harder about their choices. When I went to law school, nearly everyone tried to convince me that doing so would "keep my options open." All this really means is: "You can still be a lawyer."

If I wanted to be a screenwriter, waiting tables would have kept my options open, too. In fact, many wannabe screenwriters find themselves going to law school, misled by adults into thinking that it will help them get into the movie business. It won't. Sure, you can be a talent agent or a movie producer with a law degree, but you can be one without a degree, too. Most of the skills you learn in law school (and legal practice) won't help you make a movie, and the few that will may not be worth the cost (more than $120,000, including tuition, living expenses, as well as three years of forgone experience and salary). Rather than keeping options open, the crushing debt of law school often slams doors shut, pushing law students to find the highest-paying job they can and forever deferring dreams of anything else.

It's time those of us inside the profession did a better job of telling others outside the profession that most of us don't earn $160,000 a year, that we can't afford expensive suits, flashy cars, sexy apartments. We don't lunch with rock stars or produce movies. Every year I'm surprised by the number of my students who think a J.D. degree is a ticket to fame, fortune and the envy of one's peers -- a sure ticket to the upper middle class. Even for the select few for whom it is, not many last long enough at their law firms to really enjoy it.

There's something wrong with a system that makes a whole lot of people pay a whole lot of money for jobs that are not worth it, or that have no future. If we wanted to be honest, we would inform students that law school doesn't keep their options open. Instead, we should say that if they work hard and do well, they can become lawyers.

To all those with big firm jobs congrats on "winning" the lottery. To all those who can't get them, remember what you learned in law school: You cannot discharge student loans when declaring bankruptcy.

Brainwashing

2006-06-22T15:02:00.000-07:00

Naivety can lead people to do some dangerous things. One minute you are a lonely college freshman who gets invited to a Bible study, and the next thing you know you are getting your head shaved, changing your name to Elmo, and are a full fledged member of the local cult.

I admit that I was pretty naïve about the whole thing when I was a 1L, and that’s how I came to join the law school version of a cult: The study group. Like a cult, the study group exists mainly for the comfort of the members. They gain no actual benefits, aside from a false belief that they are on the path to enlightenment. Both the cult and the study group are led by one person, who acts like they are all knowing but in reality are full of shit. And like cult members, study groupers are quick to attribute their academic success to their membership, but are quick to absolve the study group of any blame when their grades don’t turn out as they hoped.

Halfway into my first week as a law student, the people with whom I shared a row in Torts asked me if I wanted to join them for lunch. I had been talking to these people, two guys and two girls, since orientation, and they seemed alright, so I accepted. After lunch, one girl pulled me aside and said, “Would you like to join our study group? We meet every day at 8am.” I didn’t know what to say. I have never liked studying in groups, but everyone seemed to be dividing off, and I didn’t want to be left out. So like the lonely college freshman invited to the Bible study, I told them I would.

The next day, I strolled in around 8:45, found the room they had reserved, and went in. The four of them all looked at me, annoyed. I set up my little work station, and we got down to business. The topic at hand was a case assigned for property. I don’t remember what it was about exactly, something to do with land use rights. The leader of the group started off by saying, “Okay, first lets figure out the procedural history.” They all scanned the case for clues as to how it reached the state supreme court, while I informed them that from what was given, it was not readily ascertained from the case. They tried to piece together the few bits of information about it that were included, but could not come to a consensus. All the while I was suggesting we move on to the important part of the case, which fell upon deaf ears. For 45 minutes, the argument continued. Lexis and Westlaw were pulled up, a civil procedure book was retrieved from the other side of the library, the librarian was consulted, but still, the procedural history could not be figured out. Finally I snapped. “Look, there isn’t some clue you have yet to discover, it just isn’t there. So quit wasting all your time trying to figure it out, and worry about the important part of the case.”

“But what if he asks us about it,” one guy whined.

“Then tell the asshole that you spent 45 fucking minutes trying to figure it out, admit you are a failure as a law student, and then explain the important parts of the case, the parts that actually matter.” They all looked at me with half-shocked expressions, and without saying another word, I packed up my stuff and left. As I was walking out of the room, I heard one girl say, “Maybe it was an appeal by the defense….”

I left the study group like people leave all religions: still confused about the world and my place in it, but at least having eliminated one dumb way to go through it. Three years later I can safely say I never drank any of the law school's kool-aid.

One more thing: when one of them asked the professor about the procedural history after class, he said, “I don’t know…It doesn’t matter anyway.”

The Tao of Mike

2006-06-20T07:52:00.000-07:00

A little while back, I was on my way to eat dinner at my parents’ house when traffic came to a standstill. When I finally crept past the cause of the delay, I saw two cars which had been in a pretty bad accident. My immediate reaction was not “I bet the blue car is at fault,” or “The white car probably has a great negligence claim,” but rather, “That sucks.”

At dinner, my mom spoke of a customer of hers who hadn’t paid his bill. When my mom asked me for what kind of options she had, I didn’t say “Well, he is clearly in violation of the contract and you have remedies available,” or “When I get home I can do some research and get back to you,” but rather, “I can go break his thumbs if you want.”

Later that evening, I came across several police cars which seemed to be searching a car that they had pulled over for drugs. The words “probable cause”, “Terry stop”, or “1983 violation” never even entered my mind. All I could think of was “Busted!”

Then it suddenly dawned on me. The law student in me was dying, and the old me was reemerging. Over the next few days I noticed other changes too. I could watch Law & Order without correcting glaring inaccuracies. The word “reading” took on a positive connotation. I no longer felt the need to reeducate people who want to go to law school; instead I just pitied them. In short, a new sort of inner peace and calm had come to me.

I asked Russ about this, and he had noticed the same thing. “Law school is an unhealthy place,” he said. “Black is white, B’s are average, and nerds are cool. Once you leave, it’s like a weight is lifted.”

I feel confident that my inner peace is going to be with me for a while. Other recent grads won’t be so lucky. Once they get out there and start being real lawyers, inner peace will only be a faraway fantasy, right next to “happy marriage” and “relaxing vacation.” But don’t feel too bad for them. Who needs inner peace when you have Prozac and bourbon?

Careful What You Wish For

2006-06-18T17:07:00.000-07:00

Recently, a reader with whom I regularly chat with via IM had a cryptic away message up, and I asked her what it meant. Rather than tell me, she made me try to guess, and a game of 20 questions ensued. I came close, but didn't quite get the answer, so she said she'd tell me if I did a post mentioning her blog. Since I am quite childish and cannot stand to not know something, I jumped at this offer. She told me, and it was worth it.

So here ya go: http://witcheseatcalculators.blogspot.com/

Mike v. Professor, The Final Chapter

2006-06-15T17:31:00.000-07:00

Part 1

Part 2

With about a month left to go before the term ended, he opened one day by telling us about his exam. “My exam,” he said, “will consist of a list of case names and terms which we covered in the reading over the course of the semester. You will be expected to explain the facts of each case and tell me what each case stands for, or what each term means.” The class was taken aback by this unconventional exam, myself among them. I am far from being a law school apologist, but I really have no issues with the typical exam format. Essay, multiple choice, or a mix of the two designed to test a students ability to apply the law to different situations requires students to use their critical thinking skills. His exam did none of that. The purpose of reading a case is to understand the underlying law, not memorize specific fact patterns and holdings. A friend later said to me, “This exam is borderline high school.” When I questioned what he meant by borderline, he explained, “it’s almost junior high.” But this is the exam he chose to give, and the class wasn’t pleased.

Dozens of hands shot into the air, and one by one, people peppered him with questions, trying to get him to narrow down the scope of the exam, or at the very least, be more specific about what he expected. He did neither. Once all of the hands had been called on, he shouted out, “Any more questions? Anyone?” Looking around the room, his eyes locked on his favorite target. “Mr. [Mike], any questions?” he asked me, despite not having my hand raised. “Actually, I do,” I said, and he launched into his carnival barker voice. “Another question! Outstanding! Please, Mr. [Mike], what is your question?”

“I was just wondering what you are trying to accomplish with an exam format like this. It seems to me that giving a hypothetical fact scenario and having us apply what we have learned in class would be a much better way of testing our knowledge than having us spit back what we memorized about certain cases.”

The shit-eating grin which had been on his face disappeared and he tensed up. “What I am trying to accomplish is to make sure that you did the reading and paid attention in class.”

“And that is more important than understanding and being able to apply the law?”

He glared at me for a second, and moved on to the lesson plan. After class, a friend told me he has never seen a professor get more defensive than he did when I called him out. Later on in that class period, in a move even more blatant than his obvious crush on the hot girl in the front row, he called on me to explain the longest, most complicated case of the semester. To his chagrin, I had read it, and succeeded in making him look stupid for the second time that day.

For the rest of the semester, he lightened up on me. Once I had called him on his awful teaching, he was less eager to let me speak up. On the last day of class, he spent the first ten minutes trying to further justify his exam. “It couldn’t be easier,” he told us. “I’ll give you a case name, and you tell me about the case. It’s just straight memorization.” And this was the folly in his thinking. For two or three years, we, as law students, have trained ourselves not to memorize cases, but to be able to read a case consisting of a unique fact pattern, and apply the underlying law to other fact patterns. This is the essence of law school. And love it or hate it, it works. Talking to my friends who are preparing for the bar, they say that even though they haven’t take Torts in two and a half years, it comes right back to them. They remember elements and exceptions and defenses, all of which was extracted from cases they read. And this is precisely what they will be tested on. The bar exam will most assuredly not ask them to recite the facts from Palsgraf. In short, the exam he gave was an insult to his student’s intelligence, and incredibly lazy on his part.

Like 3Ls across the country, I didn’t read for the last day of class. I didn’t even bring my book. I was sitting in my usual back row seat, busying myself on the internet while the class was discussing a case. He was wandering around the room, and when he was two rows in front of me, looked at me and sneered, “Mr. [Mike], tell us about the next case.”

I looked back at him and said, “I’d love to, but I didn’t read it.” I could have left well enough alone, but you know that’s not in my nature, so I sarcastically added, “Why don’t you ask me about it next week on the exam?”

The look on his face went from a sadistic smirk to utter hatred. “But class is today,” he said through clenched jaws.

“I am aware of that, but the exam is next week, and since you want us to memorize all these cases, just ask me about it then. I'll know it when it matters.”

He said something about the exam, but I didn’t quite understand him. When I asked a friend later what he had said, he told me that he didn’t understand either, and described it as “gibberish.” A few moments later, he ended class early and walked out.

Epilogue: The exam was exactly what he promised, and was probably the biggest waste of two hours since my girlfriend dragged me to see Elizabethtown. I got a B, which is what I expected, and no doubt pissed him off, seeing as how he typically gave a handful of Ds each semester.

Throughout the semester, I enjoyed telling Russ my tales from this ridiculous class, and we enjoyed making jokes about his past as a popular oldies singer. One time Russ asked why he hated me so much. I thought about it and said, “Who knows…maybe he thought I was the one who put the bop in the bop sh-bop sh-bop, not him.”

Me, I Thought He Was An Asshole

2006-06-13T18:37:00.000-07:00

I entered the classroom on the first day of my second year of law school and scanned the room for a familiar face. The class was comprised of predominantly 3Ls, and I saw only a handful of people from my class, none of whom I was particularly eager to sit with. I spied an empty chair at the end of an aisle and sat down. In the seat next to mine was a 3L guy, who busily typed away at his laptop. As I unpacked my own laptop, he started chatting.

“Hey,” he said in a booming voice. “You must be a 2L. Congrats on making it back for another round of this shit. Me, this is my third year.” He spoke louder than he needed to, with an East Coast accent that he made no attempt to conceal, and possibly was even trying to accentuate.

“Yeah, well, I’m not too pleased about it,” I responded, trying to give off the vibe that I was not interested in a conversation.

“Tell me about it,” he chortled, taking my unenthusiastic response as an invitation to open up to me. “I just got back in town last night. I sure do miss home…” He trailed off, expecting me to ask him a follow up. I didn’t, so he continued. “Yeah, I really wish I was still home…” He trailed off again, clearly setting me up to ask where home was. Against my better judgment, I took the bait. “Where are you from?” I halfheartedly asked.

His face lit up. “Me, I’m from Philly. Lived in Philly most of my life. Spent my summer working there, in downtown Philly. I love that place.” He paused, and added, “Yeah, I love Philly.”

I found it odd that he said the word “Philly” four times in his brief answer, but before I could ponder it further, he continued. “Yeah, I worked for a firm in Philly. The work was okay, but at the end of the day, I don’t know if it’s what I would want to do permanently. It was mostly tax stuff I did. Tax is okay and everything, but at the end of the day, it’s not for me.”

I was about to ask why not, but as if anticipating my question, he kept talking. “Me, I want to do litigation. Now I know, a job is a job in this market, but at the end of the day, there isn’t much litigation in tax work. I want to be in the courtroom, trying cases. I don’t care if it’s criminal or civil, defense or prosecution, at the end of the day, I want to be in the courtroom.”

By now, I was both perplexed and trying to keep from laughing. He had this odd habit of repeating a word or a phrase over and over in a short period of time. It was irritating, but also laughable because he spoke so loudly with a rather thick accent. I could only imagine how a jury would react to this. My mind pictured him in a nice suit inside of a courtroom, delivering an opening statement.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, at the end of the day there are two things I am certain of: Me, I love Philly, and at the end of the day, my client is innocent…”

He snapped me back from my fantasy world with a question. “Did you do the reading for today?” Before I could tell him that I had yet to purchase the book, he started talking again. “Me, I read it. Well, not all of it, but for all intensive purposes, I read it.” My ears burned, and he continued. “I have a system for reading for class. I read the main cases, and nothing else. For all intensive purposes, the main cases are what matter.” He said this as though he was on to something no one else knew.

“Say that again,” I directed him.

“Say what? For all intensive purposes, the main cases are what matter.”

“Look,” I said. “I hate to be the guy correcting how people speak, but the phrase is ‘for all intents and purposes,’ not ‘for all intensive purposes’. I would hate to have you mispronounce this in front of a jury.”

Instead of thanking me for my speech lesson, he got defensive. “Hey! I say things how I want to say them, and I don’t need you coming in here and correcting me. Get out of here with this ‘intents and purposes’ shit.” With that, he snorted and said something under his breath.

During class, he continued to give me menacingly dirty looks, and the professor passed around a seating chart that bound me to the seat next to him for the rest of the semester. So what did I do? I went home and dropped the class.

I know it seems drastic, but the last thing I needed was my new friend from Philly bothering me all semester, and for all “intensive purposes”, moving to a new seat wasn’t an option since the class was full. Besides, I didn’t really want to take the class to begin with, so at the end of the day, it was the right thing to do.

Bar Review Observation # 3

2006-06-12T20:32:00.000-07:00

Lots of cliches lately...

To the guy who had on the Gadzook-esque shirt that said, "Trust me I'm a Lawyer",

Not cute

To the very attractive petite blonde who pinned her bangs back the other day to look like Reese Witherspoon from "Legally Blonde",

Very cute

2006-06-08T18:22:00.000-07:00

Whoever said that possession is 9/10ths of the law was an asshole. I never liked that rule. This guy is taking the remaining 1/10th and getting back what he deserves.

http://www.evanwashere.com/StolenSidekick/

Mike v. Professor, Part 2

2006-06-08T17:25:00.000-07:00

Part 1

It all started during the third week of class. On that Tuesday, we were going over some assigned cases, and I was sticking to my usual strategy of sitting in the back, laying low, and hoping to get by undetected. The professor called out the name of another case, and said, in an exaggerated tone, almost like a carnival barker, “Mr. [Mike]…Is there a Mr. [Mike] in the house…Are you here, Mr. [Mike]?” I don’t know if he was trying to be funny or folksy or what, but it came out awkwardly, and once he was done grandstanding, I raised my hand and quickly explained what I knew about the case, which I had skimmed earlier during class. My explanation satisfied him, and sent him off on a 15 minute tangent about an unrelated topic while I sat back in my seat, knowing I was safe from being called on for a while. Or so I thought.

The next time class met was on Thursday, and since I had been called on the previous meeting, I naturally didn’t prepare. I was sitting in my usual back row seat, engaged in a few IM conversations and a game of Text Twist, when all of the sudden, I heard the carnival barker shout my name again. I was a bit surprised that he was calling on me, but at the same time, I didn’t really care. Once he was done with his silly name game and asked me to explain the case, without looking up from my laptop screen, I told him, “Sorry, I didn’t read it.” I expected him to move on to someone else, but instead, he decided to try and embarrass me. “Bad, Mr. [Mike]….Baaaad,” as if he was speaking to a misbehaving puppy. And his tone was no longer the jovial carnival barker, but took on a more serious nature. When he was finished scolding me, instead of letting it go, my high school class clown instincts took over and I responded. “Yeah well, it happens to the best of us,” I said to him, dismissively. He glared at me for a second, and I glared right back. This would be the beginning of our conflict.

Over the next month, he called on me at least once per class. It wasn’t always to explain a case; sometimes he threw a random question my way, other times asking for my opinion. But regardless of the purpose for calling on me, on thing became clear in my mind: This was his was of exacting revenge for my previous lack of preparation. If I knew the answer or read the case, I participated. If I didn’t or hadn’t, I said so. And if he tried to embarrass me, I would make a disrespectful comment towards him. (Who says I have to be mature?)

For as smart as law students are purported to be, some have a very difficult time determining if a professor is good or not. A few people have told me that all a professor has to do is “not be mean”, and he or she will garner their respect and affection. My Entertainment Law professor fell into this category for some. Between his jovial (yet fake) demeanor and quasi-former celebrity, he could have sat in the front of the room and ate a can of beans, and some people would adore him. But the smarter people who take him recognize him for what he is: Simply put, a bad professor, and nothing represents his incompetence more than his final exam.

Part Three coming next week.

The Curious Case of Mike v. Professor, Part One

2006-06-06T07:38:00.000-07:00

Ever since entering into the world of higher education, I have treated professors much like I treat wild animals: I won’t bother them, and hope that they won’t bother me. I have never been the type of person to ask silly questions or offer up crackpot answers during class. I never really felt compelled to contribute to classroom discussions, especially in large classes. I have never sought out a professor for his “wisdom” once the designated class period ended. On the rare occasions when I did have to meet a professor in his or her office, I felt uncomfortable and did my best to end the meeting as quickly as possible. In short, I did my best to blend in as one of the many faces in the crowd, and hoped that they would treat me as such. And for the most part, until this last semester, my strategy worked.

When I was choosing courses for my final round of law school classes, I needed three more hours, and I begrudgingly added Entertainment Law to my schedule. I say begrudgingly because in addition to meeting twice a week at 9:30, I had the prof for Con Law II, and walked away with the opinion that he was a terrible professor. On the other hand, the class didn’t meet on Friday, and Entertainment Law was supposedly this professor’s specialty, since he had worked in the industry both as a performer (in a well-known musical group that did covers of pop songs from the 50’s and 60’s) and on the business side. So I bit the bullet and signed up.

The first few weeks passed without incident, although I did begin to regret taking the course, because I immediately realized that he was the same horrible professor in his supposed specialty as he was in Con Law. What makes him so bad? The list of grievances is long, and any one taken alone isn’t cause for concern; but when taken as a whole, it paints the portrait of a man who has no business making a living as a professor.

His manner of “teaching” is difficult to describe. He doesn’t present himself as a hardass, but rather as your friend. However, his style is passive-aggressive, almost sarcastic, and you never get the feeling that he is actually one of those profs who wants to be everyone’s buddy. It was almost as if he humors you, like when you are subtly making fun of someone to their face, only the other person isn’t aware of it. His attempts at comedy were not funny, nor were they corny enough to garner a mixture of groans and giggles. Rather, when he made a joke, it was met with silence, or perhaps the odd chuckle, because he was simply trying too hard. He blatantly flirted with female students, even giving some of them pet names. He would assign 45 page reading assignments and cover only three of them. He would spend half of the class on a four-line note case and ignore a 15 page Supreme Court opinion on the next page. He seemed to enjoy asking his students lots of questions, although you couldn’t describe him as classically Socratic. It was more like a game of charades, when one person would give the other a clue, and then expect him to figure out the answer by simply motioning his hand in a “let’s go” fashion. In fairness, he wasn’t demanding in the typical sense, and didn’t lay into student who got stuck with one of his vague queries. He did, however, like to pick on certain people in the class, and try to embarrass them. This was where he and I clashed.

Part Two coming later this week

Bar Review Observation # 2

2006-06-05T06:21:00.000-07:00

The subject today is "Suretyship." I brought this up at a party this weekend that I was at with 4 other law students or recent grads. No one knew even the definition of the word.

Can't be that important then.

Bar Review Observation # 1

2006-06-02T08:40:00.000-07:00

I'm taking the Bar in Chicago. There are 3 schools in Chicago that each have classes of 400+ (I think), DePaul, Kent, and John Marshall. You'd never know anyone went there though by looking at the shirts of the people in Bar Bri class. If you only used T-shirts as a barometer, it seems that Chicago is flooded with Michigan, U of Chicago, and Northwestern grads.

I can't blame some of these people. I can wear all the Banana Republic clothes I want to look like an upwardly mobile yuppy but some fat balding slob can throw on a Stanford shirt and make me look like a trash collector in comparison.

I did find one girl's choice of attire rather amusing, however. What goes best with a pair of heels, Kate Spade bag, and a black skirt? Why, a navy and orange University of Virginia School of Law Section A 2003 Orientation commemorative T-shirt sponsored by Cravath, Swain & Moore, of course! Work it girl.

A Little Perspective

2006-05-31T16:42:00.000-07:00

During the first few weeks and months of law school, 1Ls are blissfully unaware of the realities of the legal world. All that matters at that point is getting to class and being prepared. There are no worries about improving grades or maintaining grades, because there are no grades to improve upon or maintain. The ugliness that some students can exhibit hasn’t shown itself fully. Jobs are not a concern, because many law schools prohibit full time students from working, and legal employers are not allowed to talk to 1Ls until November of their first year. Except for a select few who have seen through the looking glass, many believe that whatever job they want will be theirs for the taking, and that employers will fight over who gets to hand them $2000 per week in the coming summer.

In light of this naivety, it is no surprise that when the Career Services office hauled my class into school on a Saturday in early November of our first year, attendance was robust. Sure, we were giving up half of a Saturday, but this was the vaunted Career Services office. They were all knowing, all powerful. With just a simple phone call, they could have potential employers in a bidding war over your services. Or so the story went. By sitting through this meeting, we would know just how much we could expect to be earning come May, and just how easy it would be to get those jobs.

Naturally, when so little is known about an entity, stories about it are invented to make up for the lack of real information. How were we supposed to know that Career Services is typically worthless? That we could get better advice from the homeless guy who hangs out around campus? That the only people it can actually help find a job are those people who don’t need help finding jobs in the first place? That spending your Saturday morning counting the number of tiles in your kitchen would be infinitely more productive?

After listening to the Dean of the school and the Dean of Career Services each deliver the exact same fifteen minute long speech, our guest speakers arrived. They included someone from the Prosecutor’s office, a couple of attorneys from small and mid-sized firms around town, and the hiring partner from a large and prestigious firm in a nearby city. The big firm hiring partner stuck out like a black guy in your typical fraternity. He wore a $2000 suit, $500 shoes, a $200 tie, and a $100 haircut, while the other collectively looked like the bargain rack at Sears. As the other people took turns speaking, he looked bored, aggravated, annoyed, and eventually, homicidal. I could tell he didn’t belong, and my mind raced as to why he was there. Finally, it was his turn to speak. Most of the students in the room perked up. After all, the big firms, that’s where the money is. This guy is sure to give some insights, right?

I don’t remember exactly what he said, but it was brief, harsh, and completely deflated the hopes and dreams of many in that room. His message boiled down to this: “We don’t hire 1Ls, and even if we did, we wouldn’t hire any of you.”

Many people were shocked and appalled by his candor, while I was refreshed. For the first time, I could see law school for what it was. Of all people, a big firm hiring partner gave me a better perspective on life.

Daydream Believer

2006-05-30T08:14:00.000-07:00

I don’t talk on Instant Messenger with readers as much as Mike does. Probably because I’m a jerk. Here’s an example of a conversation I had with a female reader.

Russ: Do you know what kind of law you want to practice?

SportySpice: I’ll find something around here to pay the bills until I can get my dream job, a sports agent.

Russ: Well, the WNBA is experiencing a rise in popularity.

SportySpice: WNBA? No way. I want to represent Major League Baseball players.

Russ: Wow. Have you worked for an agency yet?

SportySpice: No. My uncle is in the league and he’s been asking around for me. Nothing's panned out for me yet, though.

Russ: Are there any female sports agents in the major leagues.

SportySpice: No, I checked. I’ll be the first.

Russ: So, you’re a graduating 3L in the middle of your class, at an average law school, with dubious connections who wants to break into an industry virtually every male attorney would trade clerkships or six-figure salaries for..

SportySpice: Exactly. I know the odds seem slim but I can do it.

Russ: Interesting. Hey do you remember how in elementary school they told us that any of us could be president?

SportySpice: Yeah.

Russ: Do you think that statement is true?

SportySpice: Obviously not.

Russ: Do you think it’s actually cruel to get kid’s hopes up if there is, in fact, no hope of them being president.

SportySpice: Totally.

Russ: Well, I’m not going to insult you like your teacher did. Sporty, you will never be Jackie Robinson of female sports agents. Move on with your life and stay realistic.

SportySpice: Go to hell.

Epiphany

2006-05-26T06:39:00.000-07:00

Watching television the other night, I had an epiphany. I won’t be able to use this particular advice myself, but for hundreds of readers, this could be the difference between getting that dream job when OCI rolls around and blindly writing letters to firms in hopes that you can line up any legal job before you graduate.

Are you ready? Okay, do you have a real passion for the law but only modest talents? If so, here is what you do: First, dye your hair gray so that you look like one of your parent’s friends; next, develop some facial tics and an “aw shucks” manner of speaking; then, throw away all self-consciousness and act like an idiot; after that, say “wooooo” a lot; and finally, develop a catch phrase that you spout anytime you can’t think of anything else to say. Follow these steps, and hiring partners will be throwing much more qualified people out of the way to make you an offer.

Taylor Hicks as the American Idol? This show has officially hit rock bottom, something which I didn’t think could happen after the Clay Aiken debacle. If Taylor Hicks is worthy of being American Idol, I am worthy of being the Dean of a prestigious law school. The American Idol should be someone who is marketable to a large portion of the population. We learned this the hard way with Ruben Studdard. Taylor Hicks falls under the same category. Are little girls going to want to put posters of him on their walls? Of course not. Do we really think he can produce viable pop songs that will get heavy rotation on a top-40 radio station, especially in the long run? I’ll bet against it. The American Idol should be young, fresh, and hip, not a baby boomer that looks like an odd mix between Mark Cuban and Jay Leno. Male idols should inspire men to want to be him, and women to want to be with him. No guy I know would want to look like Bill Clinton circa 1991, and only the most desperate of women have expressed a fondness for him. On the other hand, Taylor is the perfect guy for girls to take home to dad, because they have been golfing since the mid-eighties.

But America has spoken, and I think we can apply what we learned here to interviewing. Your skills and qualifications are secondary to your appeal to the lowest common denominator. Just hope that the person you interview with is not a Simon, with his common sense and acid tongue, unafraid to point out your many, many flaws. No, you better hope it’s a Paula, filled with compliments waiting to be dispensed and a heart waiting to be melted, and a glass full of rum on the table in front of her.

Are You Studying For The Bar With Me?

2006-05-24T13:05:00.000-07:00

I'm taking the afternoon class at Chicago Kent. I'd like some contacts who are in the same session so I can ask questions like, "Is there reading assigned for tomorrow?" Shoot me an email at barelylegalblog@gmail.com.

On that note, "Is there reading assigned for tomorrow?"

Ten Commandments for Easy Livin', Part 2

2006-05-24T05:57:00.000-07:00

VI. Thou shall avoideth classes taught by tenured professors. In general, tenured professors are more likely to give low grades than non-tenured professors. Professors without tenure are like an insecure girl in high school; they desperately want to be liked and won’t do anything to rock the boat (like giving out grades lower than a C). Classes taught by an adjunct professor are also a good option. Adjuncts are usually more laid back and straightforward. However, always keep in mind the first commandment, about choosing your professors with care. Every now and then, you’ll run across a non-tenured prof who is trying to establish himself as a hardass, or an adjunct who treats his two-hour per week class like a Paper Chase fantasy camp. But in general, those professors who are not full time or tenured are your best bets for a smooth ride through the class.

VII. Thou shall avoideth classes subject to the grading curve. While being part of a large class has some advantages, such as more anonymity and slacking with greater ease, it does have the disadvantage of being curved, which means, of course, that a healthy portion of C’s will be handed out. However, classes which are not subject to the grading curve are more likely to produce a higher number of good grades since the professor isn’t bound to deem a percentage of the students below average. However, again remember the first commandment and know what the prof is like before you decide to take the class. The last thing you want is to sign up for a class on some obscure topic, along with eight other people, only to have the prof grade hard and subject you to being called on daily. But usually, when combined with adjuncts or non-tenured professors, as discussed above, you have the perfect storm for an easy A.

VIII. Thou shall striketh an appropriate balance between papers and finals. After a year in law school, you should have a fairly good grasp on your strengths and weaknesses as a student. Maybe you have an unusual gift for completing multiple choice exams, or perhaps you have a knack for writing essays. Or you may possibly hate exams but don’t really mind writing papers. The beauty of choosing your own schedule is that you can dictate how many classes for which you’ll write papers or take exams. All the same warnings apply: You probably don’t want to take Professor Asshole just because he offers a multiple choice exam, nor do you want to sign up for a paper class without knowing the parameters of the paper. Sure, you may not like taking exams, but wouldn’t taking a three hour exam be easier than writing a 60 page, law review quality paper on product liability?

IX. Thou shall investeth in a DVR. Yes, this one isn’t really school related, but I don’t believe any law student can fully enjoy their experience without owning a DVR. Ask anyone who has one; they will tell you that they don’t know how they ever got by without it. If done correctly, you should have at least 50% more free time during your final two years than you did as a 1L. If you don’t fill this free time with something productive, you may be tempted to do something silly, like reread your assignments. Answer this question: It’s 3pm on a Tuesday, and you are done for the day. Which would you rather do, make case briefs for Federal Tax, or watch the marathon of “My Super Sweet Sixteen” that you recorded over the weekend?

X. Thou shall findeth those people whom thy liketh, and treateth the rest of the people like ghosts. The biggest complaint that people have about law school is not academic but personal. Specifically, many ILs get a bitter taste in their mouths because of their fellow classmates. How can you stand two more years? There is a simple solution to this problem: stop associating with the people you don’t care for. Figure out who you like and hang out with them. Sit next to them in class, eat lunch with them, and call them on the weekends. As for the people you don’t like, pretend they aren’t there. Don’t talk to them, don’t talk about them, and don’t even acknowledge their existence. It’s really quite easy. Once you stop sweating someone’s presence, they stop bothering you. You have your friends, and you can always expand your group. But for the people who bother you so much, just treat them like ghosts in your own law school and the place won’t seem quite so bad.

Ten Commandments for Easy Livin', Part 1

2006-05-22T06:04:00.000-07:00

We often get suggestions for posts, and they almost always fall into one of three categories. First, something we have already done. For example, “You guys should do a people you meet on the guy who still acts like he’s in his frat”; Second, something really clichéd and obvious. For example, “You guys should do a post on how much law school is like high school”; or third, something that is just plain dumb. For example, “You guys should do a post ranking which firms send the hottest associates to conduct OCIs.” But recently a reader suggested an actual good idea for a post: “I just finished my first year. What advice do you have to help me make my second and third years and painless as possible?” So without further ado, here is part one of our Ten Commandments for Easy Livin’

I. Thou shall chooseth thy professors with care. The best professor can make the most boring topic seem somewhat interesting, and a bad professor can make even the biggest sounding blow-off classes a nightmare. When picking courses, look for who is teaching a class before you look at what the class is. Information about the reputations of professors should be common knowledge at your school, and if you don’t know, ask someone. People think there are upper-level courses that you have to take for the bar. The only class you really have to take is Evidence. For anything else, let Bar-Bri teach it to you. You are going to be better off taking something challenging, like Bankruptcy, with a cool prof who is so burned out that he doesn’t care anymore, than taking a cake class, like Sports and Entertainment Law with some gung-ho asshole who doesn’t understand that people are only sitting in his classroom because the think it will be easy.

II. Thou shall not maketh thy own outlines. My philosophy on outlines is the same as my philosophy on clothes; Sure, while I probably could make my own if I wanted, I’d just as soon let someone else do it. Other people make better ones than I can, so why waste my time. The key is not to sound like a mooch, unless you are mooching off of other moochers. Also, many schools have an outline bank from past years floating around. Try and get your hands on that. Professors rarely deviate their courses from one year to the next, so if you can match both the class and the prof, you are three-quarters of the way done. Also, commercial outlines will suffice when a student-made one cannot be located.

III. Thou shall not taketh classes on Friday. This one is a no-brainer. Schools should only hold Friday classes for 1Ls, and give their upper level students a permanent three day weekend. Alas, this is not the case, but with careful planning, you can eliminate Fridays from your schedule. If you cannot avoid Friday classes, there is no harm in saving your absences for that day. Also, if possible, avoiding Monday classes is also beneficial.

IV. Thou shall not taketh classes that begin before 11am. In reality, this one is hard to pull off, but if you can, you will not regret it. Think about it; this is probably your last chance to sleep in on a regular basis for 40 or so years, and by then you won’t be able to sleep past 5:45. When looking at a class that starts early, you have to weigh the cost of taking it (sleep) against the benefit you receive from taking the class (enlightenment on topics such as Commercial Paper or Remedies). Let me give you a hint: Sleep should win. If you can’t do this every day, try to do it on Monday. Nothing takes the sting out of the Monday blues by sleeping late and having your first class start at three.

V. Thou shall choosesth as many pass/fail classes as possible. Pass/fail classes are the best kind of classes. In general, there probably won’t be an exam or a paper, and if there is, it will be easy, and they don’t affect your GPA. Classes that are designed to be pass/fail are often more hands on and interesting, like negotiation classes or trial practice classes. However, don’t forget the First Commandment, because there may be some professors of pass/fail classes out there who don’t understand that no one ever fails. The only effort required to pass is usually your presence. That being said, make sure you put enough effort in to earn that “P", or you'll be that guy who managed to fail a pass/fail class.

Part 2 coming later this week.

Don Juan

2006-05-18T04:41:00.000-07:00

While I've implied (or said outright) several times that women in law school are often single and looking, I'm well aware that their single male counterparts give those women good reason to stay single.

Law students are nerds. At least female nerds are redeemable. Every teen movie has shown us that a girl nerd can take her glasses off, let her hair fall to her shoulders and she will metamorphize into a quiet beauty. Guy nerds, however, are just a nerds with worse vision without their glasses.

Anyways, I recalled an encounter with one of these single male law students during my 1L orientation. We were all at a bar, and he was telling me how his "single days were over" and how he was "ready to settle down now that he was in graduate school."

I sat there and nodded but I wanted to give him two pieces of advice based on my very brief observations after knowing him all of 15 minutes.

# 1 If you want to get a girlfriend, don't wear a polo shirt and jean shorts to the bar.

# 2 Failing that, untuck your polo from your jean shorts when at the bar.

Not too long ago...

2006-05-17T06:39:00.001-07:00

...I was discussing a particular baseball player, and his relative attributes and skills, with a friend. He asserted, with absolutely no evidence or reason, that said player was the best in the league. I tried to get him to back this bold statement up, and he couldn't, other than saying "I don't know why, but I just know. It's just a feeling." His enthusiasm was unquestioned but his methodology was deeply flawed, which reminded me of this story...

Way back when I was just a lowly second-semester 1L, still entertaining thoughts of becoming an attorney and practicing law and such, I decided to respond to a job posting that was looking for a 1L for the summer. The posting said that a writing sample was required, and I deemed one of the papers that I had written for legal writing (a motion to do something or to block something, I don't quite recall) worthy of becoming my writing sample. I received a 'B+' grade on this motion, so I decided to take it to my legal writing instructor for some guidance as to how I could improve upon it.

I scheduled a meeting with him and arrived five minutes early, armed with two copies of my motion so we could go over it together, and I could make notes on my copy. Naturally, he wasn't in his office. I took a seat and waited. Twenty minutes later, after thumbing through an old copy of the law review and some legal magazine that had been on his desk, I was ready to leave. Just then, he burst into the office, and looked at me with the sort of suspicious eyes that a homeowner would use on some unruly teenagers standing outside of his house with a carton of eggs. "Can I help you?", he said in an accusing tone.

"Yeah, we had a meeting scheduled," I said. Then I realized he had no idea who I was, despite the fact that I was currently in his class, which had only about 15 students in it. "My name is Mike [Last Name], I'm in legal writing with you right now. I wanted to go over my motion with you so I can use it as a writing sample. We had a meeting scheduled to start 20 minutes ago..."

"Oh yeah," he said, clearly having forgotten ever scheduling a meeting with me, despite the fact I had done it via email two days earlier. "I'd be happy to help." I handed him my motion and said, "You gave me a B+, which is fine, I just want to know what I can do to improve it a little." He took about five minutes to read through the 15-page paper, handed it back to me and said, "I don't know, it looks pretty good to me."

"Well then," I said, "Why did I only get a B+?"

He paused, and sighed, and said, "Well, when I grade a paper, I look for some certain content, which is part of the grade, but for the most part, the grade is based on an overall 'feel', if that makes sense." I said that it didn't, so he continued. "Your motion was good, really good actually, but it just didn't feel like an A paper. And I'm not really sure what you could have done to make it an A paper, unless you completely started over."

This is where the me of two years ago differs from the me of today. If this happened today, I'd have told this professor exactly what I thought of his ridiculous grading system, explained how holisitc grading is a farce, a lazy method of assigning grades which are extremely important to some people, how he is cheating his students, and so on. But the me of two years ago bit his tongue, and let all those thoughts stay in my head.

I stood up to leave, and thanked him for his time. Walking away from his office, I decided that when course evaluations were passed out, I'd rate this professor as "poor", because, for the most part, he just felt like a bad professor.

Family Conversation

2006-05-15T07:40:00.000-07:00

(Outside Grandma's House)

Mom: Don't tell Grandma you aren't taking the bar, at least not yet.

Me: Sure thing.

(At dinner)

Grandma: So Michael, what kind of degree did you receive?

Me: It's a JD, Grandma.

Great Aunt: What does that stand for?

Me: Juris Doctorate, I believe.

Grandma: So you're a doctor now?

Me: No...Well, techincally, I suppose, but no lawyer ever could get away with calling himself "doctor".

Grandma: Well why not?

Me: I guess it would devalue the whole meaning of "doctor". Most anyone who has gone to law school will tell you that it's kind of a joke.

Grandma: Oh, it can't be a joke.

Me: Well, maybe not a joke, but certainly not worthy of being called a doctor afterwards.

Great Aunt: What is an esquire?

Me: I think it's an actual lawyer.

Grandma: Like you!

Me: Well, not exactly. I would have to pass the bar first.

Grandma: When do you take the bar?

Me: Uh...well...

Mom: Who wants cake!?

Take Me Out To The Ballgame

2006-05-12T05:33:00.000-07:00

There is nothing quite like attending a major league baseball game. The hot dogs and beer, the freshly cut grass, the sound of the bat striking the ball; all of these things help make up the unique ambiance of the game. Typically, only two things can ruin a game: bad weather and idiot fans.

The other night, I took my girlfriend to a Cincinnati Reds game. We had some quality seats, only about 15 rows up from the first base dugout. We arrived early and settled in, and as the game began, we were pleased to see that the seats in front of us were unoccupied, allowing us to put our feet up. The first two innings went by quickly, and then, just before the third, they showed up.

By “they”, I am referring to the three guys who had the seats in front of us. As soon as they arrived, they immediately became “those guys”, the loud, obnoxious idiots who cause parents to cover their children’s ears and the rest of us to roll our eyes. Typically, at a ballgame, idiots like this fall into one of three categories: The drunken frat boy idiots, the white trash idiots, and the dorky idiots. It was readily apparent early on that these three were the latter.

They were loud but not funny; they stood up every time someone hit a ball in the air, thinking it would be a home run; they all held empty 20 ounce coke bottles to spit their dip juice in; and, worst of all, between every half-inning, they stood up and danced. Now, when I say they danced, I mean, they fucking danced. Without a hint of shame or rhythm, they stood up and shook their groove things. It was painful, embarrassing, pathetic, and hilarious to watch. At one point, we were so sick of these guys that we decided to walk out to the seats in the outfield, so we could eat our hot dogs and drink our beers without being bumped by a wayward elbow. During a pitching change, a song began playing, and I looked across to our section and from 100 yards away, I could see the dancing dorks flailing about.

It soon became obvious that these fools weren’t dancing because they had a song in their hearts and a bounce in their steps; no, these guys were dancing with a purpose. The only time they stood up to dance was between innings, when cameras panned the crowd to find dancing folks to put on the jumbotron. Whenever a half-inning would pass without their appearance on the jumbotron, the leader of the group would implore his friends to dance harder. It was truly a sad spectacle to see three twenty-year old dorky college kids pour their hearts and souls into dancing to such songs as Mambo #5; Hey Ya; Twist and Shout; At the Carwash; and Cotton-Eyed Joe.

Finally, between the seventh and eighth innings, two of them were dancing up a storm. The guy in the middle, apparently admitting defeat or feeling shame, had stopped standing up to dance when the leader did. Suddenly, their efforts paid off, and the two remaining dancing idiots were featured on the jumbotron. And because the middle guy had given up, right between them, a row behind, I was prominently featured saying something to my girlfriend.

After their six seconds of glory ended, the two remaining dancers high-fived and berated the middle guy for not dancing. Then they picked up their dip juice bottles and headed up the aisle, their goal having been met. Their satisfaction was short lived; the apparent joy they had felt was quickly replaced by an empty feeling, the sort of feeling you get when your goal is so hollow that any satisfaction you derive from achieving it makes you take a look at how sad you’ve actually become.

A little while later, we got up to leave, when I ran into a guy I went to college with. We exchanged pleasantries, and then he said, “Hey, I saw you on the jumbotron when those dancing morons in front of you were up there…Everyone could read your lips, you said ‘What a bunch of retards’. No kidding, you pretty much summed it up. Those guys were bugging the shit out of our whole section all night.” Then he asked how law school went. I told him, “Well, I learned that the criminal justice system is unfair.” He asked why, and I said “Because, if I had purchased a souvenir bat and beat one of those guys with it, I would have gone to jail. How is that justice?”

Update

2006-05-10T19:08:00.000-07:00

I have recieved confirmation that a Dean of Admissions at an American law school throws all applications who's essays have the phrase, "I like to argue" in the "Do Not Admit" pile.

This person is a true American hero. They have saved their charges from gunners and society from more hysterionic blather. God bless them.

Being in the Middle

2006-05-10T06:49:00.000-07:00

Mike and Russ,

I need to vent and I don’t want to bitch to my friends, so I figured I’d sound off on a couple of blog guys I’ve never met. So here’s the deal: I just finished the 2nd semester of my 2L year. For my first three semesters, I always ended up right in the middle of the curve, never more than an increment above or below. My class rank was right in the middle. Being in the middle didn’t exactly afford me many job opportunities or journal positions or anything, so this semester, I decided to make a change. No more internet in class, no more IMing while I was supposed to be studying, no more drinking on weeknights, I paid attention in class, read every assignment, and even made my own outlines. My grades just got posted for a few classes, and guess what? Right in the fucking middle again, right at the curve. All of the changes and efforts that I made this semester pretty much got me right back to where I started. Not only am I pissed that I didn’t do as well as I had hoped, but I gave up all the things that make law school fun, and made myself miserable in the process. I guess what I want to know is, am I just meant to be in the middle? Is this as good as it gets?

Thanks for letting me vent,

(Name withheld)

To answer your question with the brutal honesty that our readers have come to expect, yes, you are probably just meant to be in the middle, and this is probably as good as it gets. By the 4th semester of law school, your abilities, which are reflected in your grades and rank, have been established. Your performance as a first semester 1L is probably not a strong indicator of your abilities; your performance between both 1L semesters is a better indicator; but your cumulative performance after three semesters of law school is going to pretty much establish how well you can be expected to perform.

The most frustrating part about the middle is that it's like a mediocre relationship. You'll be prone to say, "It's not bad. Sometimes the law professors are sweet and it's nice to have something to do all day. But where is it going? I've got two years invested and nothing but B's. Sure I got that A in Torts and it left me floating on air but I can't coast off that one romantic memory forever. Am I settling? Is this the best I can do? I think that Business School admissions officer was flirting with me the other day."

The middle is not the end of the world. You tried your best and ended up average. Focus on the fundamentals; you still get to be an attorney. Do you think the 8th guy who got to the lifeboat in the Titanic beat himself up for not swimming the fastest? No, he was just happy to stay afloat.

I think part of the problem is the negative connotation with the word “middle”. Middle gets a bad reputation because of some of its associations. The middle seat in the backseat of a car is called “bitch”. The Middle East has been an area of the world filled with religious and economic issues for years. When you are in a rural area, it’s said to be in the “middle of nowhere”. And, believe it or not, some people look at being in the middle class as undesirable. Can’t we give these positive connotations? Instead of calling the middle seat “bitch”, we can focus on the positive aspects, like how it’s less susceptible to death due to a side impact crash. The Middle East is very similar to Arizona, and everyone loves Arizona. Why not call it East Arizona from now on? And I’ve always preferred to call rural areas East Buttfuck, or some variation. And what’s wrong with being in the middle class? At the very least, you’ll own a house and car and take a decent vacation every year.

We lose sight of the positive associations “middle” has. The best part of any Little Debbie or Hostess snack cake is the creamy middle. “Stuck in the Middle with You” was a pretty decent song, and by far the biggest hit for Stealer’s Wheel. Malcolm in the Middle had a few good seasons, and introduced the world to Frankie Muniz. So you see, it’s all about perspective. Being in the middle isn’t so bad. You’ll be a 3L in a few months. You might as well go back to playing on the internet in class, IMing all the time, going out during the week, and borrowing outlines instead of making your own. If nothing else, at least you won’t be miserable.

Bright Lights, Big City

2006-05-08T09:09:00.000-07:00

The upwardly mobile American has an odd migratory pattern: Grow up in the suburbs, go to some rural hinterland for college, live in cramped apartments and eat take out in the city until you have kids, then back to the suburbs. Rinse and repeat.

Some law students jump right into the city after undergrad and attend a law school downtown. These law students are struck everyday by the irony of the homeless asking them for money when, without student loans, these bums are worth more than they are.

Other law students suckle a few more years off of the state at a rural law school. Not only do these law students enjoy in-state tuition but they get Wal-Mart and $ 5 pitchers. While these rural students walk out of law school in less debt, they also walk out as naïve as whatever character Jennifer Love Hewitt is playing in her latest “pretty small town girl moves to the big city” TV show.

Lessons will be learned, like $125,000 doesn’t go so far when your new parking space costs as much as your old apartment.

Men will learn that a polo shirt is now dressing down not up. Women will learn that a complex hierarchy exists based on Kate Spade bags. Both sexes will learn that romance no longer blossoms over kegs and popped collars, and has become mere credential trading between $12 martinis. Ex: “You’re an anesthesiologist? I’m a workman’s comp attorney. I’m not sure which of us is better than the other.”

Most of all, everyone will learn that the city is not as exciting as promised. Just remember in the show “Friends” how even though they all lived in Manhattan, they rarely did anything cosmopolitan. The Friends mostly just hung out in their living rooms. So guess what? If you were boring in Lafayette, Indiana, you’ll still be boring in New York City.

Bad Reason for Attending Law School #10

2006-05-05T06:37:00.000-07:00

“I like to argue”

Mike: Hey Russ, let me ask you a question…What would you say to someone who told you that they want to become an architect because they like to draw pictures of houses?

Russ: I’d say they don’t sound like they know what they’re talking about.

Mike: And Russ, what would you say to someone who told you they want to be a pharmacist because they like to put pills into bottles?

Russ: I’d say that they are missing the point of being a pharmacist.

Mike: So, then what would you say to someone that wants to be a lawyer because they like to argue?

Russ: I’d say that they don’t know what they are talking about and they are missing the point of the profession.

In my opinion, going to law school because you enjoy arguing is the worst reason to attend, but sadly, it’s all too common. Saying that you like to argue, and then deciding to convert this odd hobby into a career in law represents a fundamental misunderstanding of law school and the legal profession. Law is not about arguing; it’s about arguments. The difference between the two may seem subtle, but in reality, they are miles apart. Arguments have weight derived from logic and/or citation. Arguing is focusing on the delivery of arguments (by using volume, irrelevant anecdotes, etc.)

Being a successful law student (and eventually, a successful lawyer) requires that you know how to make a good argument. Unfortunately, the ability to make a good argument and the enjoyment of arguing for the sake of arguing are mutually exclusive traits. Those who enjoy arguing cannot be objective about it. They invest a personal stake in the argument, whether its ideology, or more often, pride. Instead of being able to objectively look at both sides of a situation and form a strategy for arguing either one, those who like to argue pick one side and will defend it to the death, no matter how inane or off base their points become. When facing an opponent who doesn’t fall for his or her impassioned yet inherently flawed argument, instead of conceding the point, or even agreeing to disagree, they become louder and more repetitive, in the hope that their opponent will have an epiphany and suddenly admit defeat. In reality, this strategy just makes them look obtuse and ignorant. Law school is for nerds, not hotheads. There's a place for these people, and it's not here; it's the AM radio bandwidth.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise, then, that the people who know how to make arguments are successful in law school, and the people who are there because they “like to argue” don’t fare quite so well. But can we fully blame those people who like to argue? Surely, this quality must have roots deep in their childhood. Maybe their parents saw little Jimmy disagree with everything his sister said, and told him, “One day you’ll grow up to be a lawyer.” The idea was planted in his head, and so as he got older, he would challenge anything and everything he encountered that he disagreed with, and more people would tell him, “You should be a lawyer.” Then, he graduates college and heads off to law school, where on the first day, he decides to argue with his professor. But the professor sees several people like him every year. He is ready for Jimmy’s logical fallacies and poorly reasoned points. The professor dismisses Jimmy, who’s arguing “skills” don’t appear as effective as he’d hoped. Poetic justice, I suppose. But maybe, instead of encouraging argumentative kids to become lawyers and further perpetuate this myth, we should call them what the really are: Assholes.

Family Law

2006-05-04T06:56:00.000-07:00

My family law professor has no practice exams available for his test tomorrow. Luckily, an episode of Maury Povich is on today that I was able to practice my custody law knowledge on. This epidode featured Georgetta, a single mother, who was returning to Maury for the 12th time to determine who the father of her children are.

Here is the fact pattern and my analysis.

Georgetta comes out to the crowd booing her. She wags her finger at them and says, “You don’t know me. I do what I want.” Several male audience members scowl and wave as though to shoo her away.

Georgetta is, in fact, right. Without a showing of evidence to the contrary she has a presumptive right to custody until we can identify the father who might challenge her claim.

Earl, one of the prospective fathers, denies parentage and declares Georgetta to be a “hood rat”.

Experts are often heard by a judge but rarely considered heavily. In considering custody, Georgetta’s financial condition, “hood,” may be weighed, but her moral behavior, “rat” is irrelevant unless it effects the child.

Maury announces that the DNA test proves that Earl is not the father. Earl pumps his fist in the air and says of the results, “That’s what I’m talking about.” Georgetta runs offstage crying.

With neither a biological basis nor intent to be a father, Earl has no claims for custody. Evidence of Georgetta’s hysterics, if found unreasonable under the circumstances, may show that her custody claim is not in the best interests of the child. That claim is only relevant, of course, if a valid competing paternal claim is proven on next week’s show.