I like orange popsicles. The cherry flavoured ones are also okay. The grape flavour is terrible. This is one of the few topics upon which everyone in my household agrees.
It is really hard to find a box of only orange popsicles. Trust me, I have looked. So, we always end up buying a box which contains all three flavours. Eventually our freezer becomes full of grape popsicles that nobody wants and we throw them away to make room. It is a waste of money and not that great for the environment.
“There is a time for departure even when there’s no certain place to go.”
Tennessee Williams
On the day that the love of my life and I first told each other that we loved each other, we were, unfortunately, both married to other people. It was a pretty rough journey from then to now (together seventeen years, married for twelve.) Along the way a number of people were hurt, only a few of whom deserved it. I love the result but would not wish the journey on anyone, and deeply regret the hurt caused to the innocent parties.
We live in a hierarchical world. In a law firm, the levels are pretty clear. From top to bottom it goes something like this: Managing Partner, Other Partners (ranked in order of billings and client originating credits), Senior Associates, Professional Managers, Junior Associates, Law Clerks, Legal Assistants, Clerical Staff, Articling Students, and Cleaners.
Everyone in a law firm has a pretty good notion about what the hierarchy is, although Articling Students have sometimes found out to their shock and horror that they do in fact rank under the Law Clerks, Legal Assistants, and Clerical Staff.
Back in the day, there was a law firm in which the partners were – how do I say it sort of nicely – not ‘culturally aligned.’
Sam was the Managing Partner. He was charming and charismatic, and nice to everybody, at least most of the time. Aligned with him were enough partners to vote with him on everything that mattered, sometimes more out of personal loyalty or ignorance than conviction.
Gordon was the other high billing partner with a huge client base, which qualified him to lead a group of dissidents. He and Sam tended to be competitive about things such as compensation.
When I was a teenager, my buddy Bill took me waterskiing. For those of you who do not water ski, you learn to ski on two skis which is easy, then to ‘drop a ski’ which is harder, and finally to start on one ski. That was what I was trying to do.
Bill said that I was the only person who he ever saw who was still holding onto the rope ten feet under water. An exaggeration perhaps, but sometimes I really do not know when to give up.
You may be familiar with the expression, “Culture Eats Strategy for Breakfast,” a quote from Peter Drucker. As the title of this post implies, I not only agree with that sentiment, but I believe that it is drastically understated.
There is nothing funny about child abuse, so I hesitate to tell this story. But there is a point to it, so please bear with me.
Back in the day when parents did not see anything wrong with occasionally giving their kids a smack, there was a very young boy who believed that if he shut his eyes tightly, no one could see him. When his father was angry, the boy would close his eyes and feel safe. When he got hit anyway, he was initially shocked. But eventually he learned that hiding did not make him safe.
“It had evidently not occurred to her as yet that those who consent to share the bread of adversity may want the whole cake of prosperity for themselves.”
― Edith Wharton
I cannot think of anything more important in a law firm partnership than associating yourself with partners who share your values.
There is a young adult in my life who, as he breezed through his teenage years, could not understand the stress that I experienced as I managed a busy legal career and all of the other aspects of ‘adulting’ that each of us grown-up people have to deal with. When, in my stressed-out state, I used to remark critically upon his somewhat laissez-faire attitude on topics such as attending class, cleaning up after himself, mowing the lawn, or shoveling the driveway, he would just look at me and wanting to help, he would sincerely say, “you should learn to be chill like me, Mur.” Of course, that made my blood boil.
When I was young, so much younger than today, I completely bought into the fairy tale that the best and brightest lawyers are all at the large law firms and that everyone else is just not that good. After all, they practically teach you that at law school, although they never quite say it aloud, so I imagine that they have plausible deniability.