TO-WIT: ABSOLUTELY
Oh, and it was music to my ears. I rose to my feet with confidence, nay, with supreme certainty, and addressed the court.
“Absolutely, Your Honor,” I said smiling. I then immediately sat back down. In these instances I find that a paucity of words serves best.
And what was not to smile about? Just minutes before, His Honor had interrupted opposing counsel as he argued in support of his motion for summary judgment and said “But as your esteemed opposing counsel has tangentially posited without actually citing the case, our state Supreme Court’s recent decision in the case of Smith v. Jones completely undercuts your argument.”
His Honor then launched into a profoundly incisive dissertation on the various and sundry ways that the precedent he inferred I had implied had rendered the motion completely devoid of merit. When he had finished, he looked directly at me and said “(I)sn’t that right, Mr. _______.” Hence my rapturous response.
At that instant, two things were both incandescently and terrifyingly clear to me. One, His Honor was very well prepared for this oral argument, and two, I had no idea what the hell he was talking about.
Now don’t get me wrong, I’m the first one to appreciate having my legal position buoyed by precedent I didn’t know, couldn’t find, didn’t find or never really understood; in addition I’m never afraid to claim a knowledge that in actuality had eluded me like a greased pig. But the point remains that there is nothing more to be feared than a judge well prepared for oral argument.
Make no mistake; oral argument is the most petrifying of all professional experiences. To stand before the court to argue law is a bit like exploring the cosmos. It may well be absolute but there is nothing absolute about it. The vastness of that universe is at once both grotesque and beautiful, a wondrous sight but with countless invisible asteroids of precedent lurking out there just beyond our awareness that can upon impact produce disastrous results.
It’s a prospect that’s always in the back of my mind. “But what about the case of Jones v. Smith decided fifteen minutes ago by the Supreme Court,” a judge may inquire of me, leaving me gasping for air and cursing the perspicacity of the judge’s law clerk.
Such moments strip us naked, make of us the fool, and are absolutely the cruelest moments in the practice of law. That’s probably why I so enjoyed seeing opposing counsel now gasping for air as he sought to dodge the asteroid about to crush him and his besotted argument.
When it was my turn to argue, I simply rose and said “Your Honor clearly has a solid grasp of the issues and I have nothing further to add.”
He thereupon issued an order right from the bench dismissing the motion for summary judgment. It was justice; that by assuring my client of a jury trial and thus increasing settlement value by at least threefold was beside the point.
Anytime I can walk out of an oral argument with all my clothes on is a good day. My client, who had been sitting in the back of the courtroom observing the proceedings, joined me as I exited the courtroom.
“Boy,” she said, “you sure are a smart lawyer.”
“Absolutely,” I replied in a swell of gaiety and misgiving, “absolutely.”
©2013, S. Sponte, Esq.