Robert (gurdonark) wrote,
Robert
gurdonark

in praise of efficiency



I got up at 3 a.m. and did a little legal research. I wrote a weblog entry at 5 a.m. about the musician C. Reider for my gurdonark.com weblog. I hit the road very early to a court hearing in Fort Worth and encountered very little traffic. I'm not much for talking about my court cases, and I'll keep that tradition alive today. But I will mention a lawyer there for another case, over in the bankruptcy court. This particular court involved the Trustee's staff attorneys calling out each debtor's attorney's cases for the day, and getting announcements as to status. Prior to the hearing, a well-dressed fellow who looked middle-age-oldish to me (and hence is about my age)and his paralegal (or associate) walked in. The paralegal oozed personality--attractive, I suppose, but it was more than that. She had that zing of a live wire in action. I sensed (or projected) that the other lawyers knew and liked her better than they liked her boss. Fort Worth is a big city that works a lot like a small western town. I believe someone asked the paralegal about her horses, but that may be a daydream.

The attorney and the paralegal sat one row in front of me. When the staff attorney got to this debtor's attorney, the debtor fellow had a glib and witty reply on each one. Often in this kind of court, a debtor forgot to provide a needed tax return, or failed to attend a required debt counseling meeting, or failed to work out how much to pay the secured creditor with a lien in home or car, or missed payments on his or her plan. This required explanation and a slight bit of honest tap-dancing. The attorney had a bit of bright, mock-combative and fun commentary for each of his cases. But those of us within closer earshot heard the story a bit better. She had all the notes, and whispered to him the inner truth of each case. I thought to myself how if I were a Chapter 13 debtor's attorney with dozens of cases in hearing at a time, I'd want to have an efficiently twanging ace paralegal beside me, notes in hand, who was a dollop of the best kind of "works hard, works smart, no nonsense, a bit of frill" rural Texas woman as surely as a patent medicine is a dollop of the most whiskey-laden syrup. I'm a huge admirer of omniscient paralegals. In point of fact, though, I've never utilized a paralegal that way, though I've worked with many who developed that Jeeves-like symbiosis with the attorneys for whom they work. I thought of today's paralegal in much the same way I think of stained glass, quilts and the Rice Queen at the Weiner, Arkansas Rice Festival--completely admirable, but a bit off the path for my skill set.

After morning court, I turned onto the wrong turn onto 820 and ended up heading west not east, losing 45 minutes because I made it to Lake Worth near the Jacksboro highway before I confirmed my mistake. I still made it into the office, in good order, and got a lot of work done. Then after a sandwich I drove to
the Salvation Army.

I love it when I meet with a lot of clients at the free legal clinic who are all in problem solving modes. They come to meetings at night to listen to lawyers and their jargon and seek ways to make the complex simpler. I encounter a lot of grace and dignity among the people I meet. I like that this is so.

Lately, a realtor uses my song "statia" for youtube posts about real estate for sale in Stockton, California. I like the idea of being a 2 bedroom in Stockton soundtrack.
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