TO WIT: SHAVIN’ LIKE YOUR FATHER
Some years ago there appeared on television an advertisement for an electric razor which offered immediate salvation to blade users smart enough to switch to that product. The message was honed to an even finer edge with the progenitorial admonition that if we start out shaving like our fathers, we’ll end up shaving like our fathers. The premise of their advocacy was, I suppose, that the right way and the wrong way can be a matter of perspective and may depend largely on how one learns the rules of the game.
All of this came back to me recently as I read of the disbarment of a law school classmate of mine. It seems he had co-mingled a client’s funds with his own, in a numbered Swiss bank account, under a fictitious name. What surprised me was not that he had been disbarred, but that it had taken so long for someone to catch him. I recall quite clearly his propensity for novel solutions to commonplace problems during his law school days. During one semester he cut an entire course, and he faced the final exam completely unenlightened by the burden of knowledge. Class notes were permitted for the test, and in an attempt to compensate for his fast at the lectern of the gods, he photocopied a 400 page text on the subject to place between the covers of a notebook otherwise as barren as he. As Lady Lex would have it, he forgot to copy the index, and was still frantically trying to locate the answer to the first question when time ran out. Seeing his professional obituary also reminded me that his father too had been shot down by the canons of ethics some years earlier, but apparently not before he passed on the torch which later burned his offspring.
My own father was not a lawyer, but rather a man smart enough to realize he could not solve all his own problems, much less the problems of others. Accordingly, he went on to lead a fine and private life. I was left to learn the facts of lex from a Preceptor who would sooner have cheated on his wife than the mistress of his mind. He was honest, ethical, trustworthy and forthright, and despite those enviable traits, he earned an enormous income from his practice. Our paths were initially drawn together by corresponding needs, mine for a teacher, a gentle soul, and a steady, practiced hand, and his for a ready pool of cheap labor. I learned my lessons well, and while I have always met with abysmal defeat practicing municipal law, I nonetheless fancy my colleagues and clients accord me a small measure of esteem for my integrity, and I have survived.
A few members of my class completed the embryonic stage of their development with members of the profession from whom they learned a different set of rules. Having nothing with which to draw a comparison, they plunged into the fray with ethical blinders fixed firmly to either side of an expensive education. They were taught to hand deliver demand letters to insurance carriers so as not to upset Uncle Sam, on the theory that the time lost was well worth saving the time otherwise risked. They learned to run without ever leaving their office, and they subscribed to the daily advance sheets of accident reports.
And one by one, in time, they drop by the wayside, some from stupidity, others greed, a few simply overwhelmed by their foolish attempts to impose order on unyielding chaos. Some get just what they deserve, others still the Disciplinary Committee.
While the child is father of the man, there will always be some out of step in our parade, maybe just a beat or two, maybe a whole block. I get the feeling though sometimes that the distance from the front rank to those dancing from one close shave to another at the rear is in part a function of how well we can deal with the chins of the fathers.
© 1978 – S. Sponte, Esq.