RAIN MAN

TO-WIT: Rain Man

As a general rule, I stay away from bar association conventions, seminars and meetings. I find them tepid, dull, insipid and boring, and I find that if I ever hunger for that kind of atmosphere, I can always eat lunch with the judges.

Nonetheless, in an effort to both broaden my horizons and lower my malpractice premium, I recently attended a continuing legal education seminar in a nearby large city. Of interest to me was the practicum on how to turn a mediocre small town law practice into an efficient, profitable enterprise, a kind of “before and after” presentation. I would not have attended except I had been asked to be one of the lecturers. I also would not have attended had I known that I had been slotted in as the prototypical “before” example.

At the social hour following the presentation, I spotted an old law school class mate of mine. He was standing in a corner, a drink in every hand, and he was surrounded by a profoundly jovial crowd. We had been friends, lo those many years ago, but I had not seen him since graduation. He had been elected by our class as the graduate most likely to uphold the dignity of the profession and at the commencement ceremony, he justified our prescience by offering to sell his plaque to the highest bidder.

I walked over to him to say hello, and when I offered my hand for shaking, he put a drink in it.

“how are ya, how are ya,” he said, appearing glad to see me, “and how’s business?”

“Oh, it …,” I started to reply, but before I could form the word “sucks,” he turned away to shake someone else’s hand.

During the next half-hour, we had an interesting five minute conversation. Every few seconds or so, we were interrupted as he turned to wave or shake another hand or slapped a back, but during the course of the conversation I managed to glean that for many years now he had been a senior partner in a large, prestigious city law firm and that it was his sole function to attract clients to his firm, get business in the door, you know, a rainmaker. He also confided rather proudly that, at his partners’ urging, he had decided to run or judge. He was apparently attending this seminar out of a naïve belief that some fundamental grasp of the law was a prerequisite for his election. I assured him he was in error, that many, many judges had already been elected with no grasp of the law whatsoever, and he seemed relieved.

I have heard of rainmakers before but in all my years I don’t think I ever actually met one. To those of you out there who may not be familiar with the term, rainmakers are lawyers who do not actually practice law, but who, by virtue of their social and/or economic status, their political and/or family connections, their engaging personalities and their ability to consume large amounts of alcohol with de minimus impact upon their golf game, spend all their time courting and sparking with clients for the sole purpose of acquiring them and their business for the firm.

As one might expect, the term “rainmaker” has its origins in the primitive tribal rituals of the American Indians. The Indian rainmaker was widely respected in his community as a person of great compassion, benevolence and temperance. It isn’t exactly clear how a nomenclature embodying such qualities could have much application to the legal profession, but the term and its connotation seems to have taken root as early as the late 19th century, as large city law firms, experiencing rapidly upward spiraling expenses, began to look for new and innovative ways to get business. Of course, in those days, advertising was strictly verboten and lawyers found that utilizing rainmakers was an essential means to at tract lucrative business. Oh, there was one big city firm that tried to survive solely by offering superb legal services, but it quickly failed, and to my knowledge, the attempt has never been repeated.

While a rainmaker might be thought of as someone who doesn’t take kindly to the confrontational life of a real lawyer, sometimes things can get a tad rocky. A number of years ago two well-known rainmakers from competing big city law firms got into a terrible boundary dispute over possession of a significant client. there was a great deal of billable time at stake and neither side was willing to give an inch. The controversy might have deteriorated into complex and embarrassing litigation but for the fact that neither combatant knew how to draft a complaint.

I feel sorry for my old classmate, I really do. His legal career is finished. Oh, I know that now he’s feeling chipper, so full of himself, what with his campaign for judge and all, but that’s only because he doesn’t understand. You see, in the strange world of law firm politics, nothing is as it seems. Good rainmakers are worth their weight in gold and, just as in baseball, you can’t have enough good pitching.

The only reason his partners would have persuaded him to run for judge is that they want him out of the firm. He must not be pulling his weight and I guess they figured to palm him off on the judiciary where he can’t do too much damage, at least not to them. If he loses the election, sooner or later they’ll force him out anyway, and if he wins, he’ll have to go to the bench. That’s a lousy way for any lawyer to end up, even a rainmaker.

© 1990, S. Sponte, Esq.

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