Leon, 3L

I wear a tie to work. It's not the worst occupational hazard, I understand, but it can be rather annoying. Like, for example, this past summer, when I had to change a tire on the side of 93N in some serious heat... I would have preferred to not be dressed for success. Similarly, when brushing wet snow off a car at 6ish in the morning, in a driving rain... I prefer something closer to a scuba suit. In the inimitable words of the Rolling Stones: You can't always get what you want.

When your day starts with an impromptu (and involuntary) second shower that you get to take while already dressed, you are uniquely positioned to notice other things that tend to make you groan:

For example, when a brief written by an actual attorney (or at least a law student) contains the oft-misued expression "could care less" -- you tend to battle the urge to devote a paragraph in the opinion to an in-depth discussion of how "can" and "cannot" mean different things.

Then there's my favorite gas station. When you drive a lot, you tend to notice gas stations. There's the one near my house which has pricing ADD -- the gas price seemingly changes hourly. Then there's the one near the highway. It's full-serve only, so it is automatically eliminated from contention (there is no way some seventeen year old gets to spill gasoline all over the side of my car, thank you). However, on Monday, I saw this sign: "CHEAP GAS PRICE" It was located right next to the sandwich board which has the price on it. Actually, the sign is a lie -- the prices are not that low. When I first saw it I wondered about the point. People who see that sign undoubtedly see the prices, which means they should have been able to deduce that the price is "low" on their own. Imagine my shock when on my way home tonight I saw a line of idling cars, slowing traffic on the entire street, waiting to be gassed up. I am not sure what amused me more -- the fact that people pay attention to a sign that draws their attention to the other sign that had always been there or that people idle their cars for fifteen minutes or more in an attempt to save five cents a gallon.

In more court-related news, I sat in on some testimony yesterday. A DEA agent was brought in to testify during a trial of a man accused of conspiring to rob a drug dealer. The DEA agent's testimony was limited to where cocaine is produced -- one of the charges was interference with interstate commerce. Meaning? The government has to prove that the cocaine involved could not have been grown, harvested and processed in the same state as it was being sold. If it traveled across state lines, then stealing it would be interfering with interstate commerce. Nevermind that the sale of cocaine is quite illegal. The law is full of irony. All we can do is enjoy!

Posted by Leon at 9:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

In the legal world, just like in the real world, it is important to be able to laugh every once in a while. Keeps you sane. So, for example, when you are neck-deep in trial records, motions, briefs, denials, hearings, re-hearings and various other transcripts in a mostly futile attempt to give the appellant's argument some sort of background... when you realize that you are not so much floating above all this, but are slowly sinking into the depths of it... you can bring yourself back when you see the following (taken verbatim from a pre-sentence report):

"As to his present status, defendant admitted that he has been cured by the Almighty."

So, he's got that going for him, which is nice.

In other news, I spent part of the weekend in Mystic, CT for reasons completely unrelated to their excellent aquarium or the nearby casinos (though those are not bad reasons to visit the area). The nice thing about co-op is that while it is a lot of work, it generally leaves my weekends relatively unencumbered.

Now, if it would just stop climbing into the 60s every other day so that we could finally kick off the ski season for real! I mean, count me among those who are thrilled that gas is below $2/gallon again, but what does it say about the state of the planet if an outdoor ice rink (with a cooling system for the surface) in New England... in December... comes closer to resembling a kiddie pool than it does a frozen surface?

So, for those keeping track at home, Leon's holiday wishlist is now two items long:
1. Draft opinions should write and edit themselves
2. Temperatures should get down into the single digits (and stay that way until March)

Not sure which is more likely, to tell you the truth.

Wait! Just thought of a third item:
3. The Buffalo Bills will stop making play-calling decisions which roughly approximate sticking one's tongue into a light socket. You know it's bad when you see a "highlight" from the game and immediately think "Wow, I have to call my buddy, the Bills fan, just to make sure he isn't suicidal or something."

Ok, that's it for now.

Posted by Leon at 10:09 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

One week into my internship, and exactly three and a half paragraphs into my first draft opinion I have come to the conclusion that I could not be a judge. This is fine, because last I checked my phone was not exactly ringing off the hook with offers to become one. Since this realization did not occur suddenly, but instead has been built up over the course of the week, I suppose I should start at the beginning.

Of the people that work for the judge, I am usually the second to arrive in the morning (the Judge is the first), and as such, one of my duties (and so-far my absolute favorite thing to do) is to check in with the judge in the morning to see if there is anything I can help him with. One thing that became quite apparent from these short meetings is that the judge has an absolutely impeccable memory. When he has a citation that needs to be double-checked, it is invariably correct. Even when the opinion is a relatively obscure one written over twenty years ago. Did I mention that the judge is easily double my age (and then some)? I can't remember what I did last week or what was the point of this paragraph.

Then there is the patience, which is likewise infinite. Unlike the Supreme Court, the Circuit Court of Appeals does not get to cherry-pick their cases (via granting certiorari), and as you can imagine, some of the appeals have somewhat less merit than others. My summer at the United States Attorney's office offered me a glimpse into "jailhouse lawyering" a term used to describe motions and briefs filed by inmates with access to legal resources in their libraries. One particularly meritless (though quite lengthy) argument was that sentencing guidelines in place at the time of the crime (rather than at the time of conviction) should be used to calculate "points" for prior crimes. This is an incorrect view of the law, but what was fascinating (not the word I initially used) was that the guidelines had not actually changed between the two dates. My job of answering this motion in a professional manner seemed tough until this past week, when I realized that the judge (or more likely one of his clerks) then has to write an opinion which, in an even more professional manner states the reasons why the inmate is wrong.

Legal knowledge required to be a judge is something that probably does not need to be mentioned, however, let me just say that it is my sincere hope is that by the time I retire I somehow manage to learn one third of what the judge seems to know.

Other than learning I can't be a judge I also learned that public transportation and I do not get along. My attempt to take the commuter rail to Providence one (very) early morning resulted in hopping on the Acela Express to NY instead, which thankfully does stop in Providence before it gets to the Big Apple. Even more remarkable was the fact that while an intended ride on this train would have cost me $34 (compared to the $4 it costs to ride the commuter rail which leaves from the same station, and even the same platform, about five minutes later -- as I now know), my blurry-eyed mistake cost me nothing. A very nice conductor explained to me that since I was on the wrong train (technically, this is true, I was headed to the right city, but on the wrong train) -- policy was to have be deboard at the next stop... which just happened to be Providence (I got on at the Route 128 Station). Perhaps aware that lawyers are creative problem-solvers, he did mention that he does not suggest I try this "trick" often, as others are not always as nice, and I may be out $34 per attempt. Given that the combination of car + train made my trip home that night take over 2 hours (double the amount of time it takes using just the car), I am not inclined to repeat it, even if the train ride were free. To my car: I apologize in advance for all the miles, but I promise they will be more fun than the daily commute from home to school.

Posted by Leon at 10:19 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

When entering the Moakley Courthouse* a U.S. Marshall asks you whether you are an attorney. I am not sure what happens when you answer this question in the affirmative, but I can tell you what happens when you respond "not quite yet, but I am a law student": they take away your cell phone. I do admit, this idea is not foreign to me, as the U.S. Attorney's Office I worked at this summer shared a building with the District Court and had the same policy. At first it may seem almost barbaric to separate people from what one of my friends half-jokingly calls "life devices", especially when entering a federal building -- a place where things never start on time. Given enough time to think it through, though makes you understand that the idea needs to go further. Why exempt lawyers?

If the idea is to prevent disclosure of confidential or sensitive information (most cell phones have cameras), then what makes a member of the bar less likely to misbehave? If the point is to prevent the annoying ringing of a cellphone during actual court sessions -- well, lawyers (and their blackberries) seem to be much more likely to offend in this case. And why is this limited to court houses? What about movie theatres (you know, those places people used to go to before cable TV and DVRs were invented), restaurants, classrooms and other public spaces?

I can hear the groundswell of blackberry addicts searching for a way to make my Q key zap me with 240 volts right now, and I understand their concerns. Who wants to hand over a device full of personal, sensitive information to a total stranger? What lawyer wouldn't want to be able to complete tasks on said blackberry while sitting idly in the gallery waiting for his or her case to be called? What about those emergency calls that Lassie places to your mobile device when Timmy falls into the well? What will happen to poor Timmy if you don't immediately answer?

The privacy concerns can be taken care of with technology. Instead of taking away cell phones, we can jam their signals, preventing them from being able to receive a call (given the world we live in, it seems that emergency calls to 911 should always be allowed, especially from public places). There are actually "personal" jammers on the market today, which are relatively popular, even if completely and totally illegal. You don't have to hand over your cellphone, but when you walk into a court room, or a restaurant, your cell phone can no longer receive a signal and thus cannot ring.

The Lassie/Timmy argument, while compelling, begs the question -- what would Lassie have done five, ten, or even twenty years ago? We have all become dependant on these little gadgets to keep us constantly connected, forgetting at times that none of us are the center of the universe. The world will go on even if we are incommunicado for an hour. Someone else will save Timmy, I guarantee it.

This leaves just the convenience of multi-tasking. Sure, a lawyer will no longer be able to sit there and bang out emails to their associates while listening to a case being argued, but this is a minor inconvenience. The phone would work outside the actual court room, allowing one to continue to do work, but limiting the sending and receiving of information.

Have I overlooked anything? Likely. Feel free to drop me a line using the comments link and we can hash this out further. At this point, this discussion is academic: my badge lets me into Moakley without having to surrender my phone... which is currently blinking -- someone has sent me a message. Hmm, could be Lassie. You never know -- I did see Timmy playing near a well earlier.

To those studying for finals: Good luck! To those applying to school: Same to you!

* Also known as: The John Joseph Moakley United States Court House, the United States Court of Appeals for the First Circuit, and the Pretty Courthouse With the Huge Curved All-Glass Wall.

Posted by Leon at 9:20 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)