MALADY OF LOVE

TO-WIT: Malady of Love

I was not well. The signs were unmistakable. Normally I am quite calm. Normally I always listen calmly and dispassionately while every client-father enumerates for me all the valid and unique reasons why he should not have to pay child support. Normally I never bat a litigious eye while every client-neighbor cites each deep-rooted principle behind his decision to sue his neighbor for arboreal trespass, and then asks me to take the case on a contingency fee. I have calmly endured the slings and arrows of outrageous justice for nigh on to twenty years, including family law, without so much as a nervous tic, palsy or tremor and yet there I was, all strung out and sitting in my office yelling above high C at my secretary to answer the goddamn phone.

“But it isn’t ringing,” she said with the insouciance of one whose pension has just vested.

“Assuming without admitting that there’s something wrong with my hearing,” I said with a snort, “how can you explain that I saw flashing lights on the phone?”

“Your eyes are failing too,” she snorted back.

She was right of course. “If anyone calls, I’ll be at the law library,” I told her and out the door I went, on my way to the doctor’s.

In truth, I had first become suspicious of my vision a few days ago when I didn’t see a certain custody hearing officer as she passed by me in the courthouse and I lost the opportunity to acknowledge her presence with my customary obscene gesture. In a desperate effort to accord her the abuse she so richly deserves, I called out “you contemptible moron” but the clatter she made as she inadvertently fell down the stairwell all but drowned out my greeting.

“Do you want a history,” I asked my doctor.

“Naw,” he replied, “I never done good at history. Just cough. I like that part best.”

After a brief exam I found myself seated in the doctor’s inner office awaiting the preliminary findings.

“Well, I can’t be certain until we get the lab results back,” he told me as he came into the room, “but I suspect Steinberg’s Malaise.”

“What,” I exclaimed.

“Steinberg’s Malaise.” He took down a volume from the shelf behind him, leafed through some pages, found his place and handed the book to me. There, under the chapter entitled “Diseases of the Law”, was Steinberg’s Malaise.

“Are there really diseases of the law,” I asked.

“You mean besides penury and calumny? My heavens, yes. This whole chapter is devoted to them. Borrow the book if you like. Please pay on your way out. Normally we’d bill you but with Steinberg’s Malaise … well, you understand,” and on that enigmatic note, I left, taking the book with me.

Assuming that medical books are more accurate than law books, thee are, it appears, a whole host of diseases which affect only members of the bar. In the belief that you may be interested, I have set out some of the more prominent illnesses below. Perhaps you will recognize some of the symptoms outlined, if not in yourself then in a colleague or two. I caution you however – do not leap hastily to any conclusions here. We above all others must resist the temptation to assume that anyone who practices law is sick, and what might at first appear to be behavior born of illness may be nothing more than the conduct of a naturally deviate personality.

By the same token tough, keep in mind that in a world which far too often treats the twin novelties of justice and due process in much the same way as nature treats a vacuum, it is a miracle that more of us are not infected.

STEINBERG’S MALAISE – FIRST NAMED FOR napoleon Steinberg who,

after many consecutive years exposure to the ravages of barristry, lost all of his senses save smell. Unwilling to follow his doctor’s advice to retire, he instead took a seat on the Superior Court where is inability to comprehend oral argument was conduct indistinguishable from that of his brethren.

LUCILLE’S QUIVER – NAMED FOR Lucille (The Won’t Iron Lady)

Gehrig, who, whenever a jury returned a verdict against her, became subject to violent involuntary contractions of all major liquid-producing organs, creating mayhem in the courtroom and a horrid spattering of the jury box. When word of her disorder became common knowledge to all venire men, her success rate rose dramatically.

CONSILIOSIS – an obsessive need to settle cases, resulting in the

lowering of results, blood pressure and morbidity rates.

MAXIMILLIAN’S SHELL – similar to Steinberg’s Malaise, it’s named for the Honorable Bessamae Mucho Maximillian, who, after seven straight years as Family Court judge, took to inserting his fingers into all of his bodily orifices ` during hearings, the better by which to totally isolate himself from further tatter and decay. Although his grasp of testimony deteriorated, his rulings improve significantly.

DIGITITIS – a malady of busy lawyers who, in their efforts to learn how to use computers, overtax their fingers to the point of exhaustion. Also an exchange of greeting between trial lawyers during settlement conferences.

CLYMIDIOT – an obsession among some to make partner.

SNYDERRHIA – an extremely rare disorder of the central media, characterized by premature baldness and an acute sensitivity to the sound of an ambulance siren.

Oh, by the way, for those of you who, like me, wondered about that strange reference the doctor made as I left his office, I can clear that up for you. He called the other day to tell me that the lab results were in and he was wrong. It was not Steinberg’s Malaise at all, but rather a nasty head cold.

I’m so relieved,” the doctor said. “Steinberg’s Malaise is usually fatal.”

“You’re relieved?” I replied. “How do you think I fell? I thought I had to go sit on the Superior Court.”

© 1990, S. Sponte, Esq.

ME AND MR. BIG

LOL