A short while ago I was contacted by a junior Associate who I will call Jennifer. Jennifer was looking to move to a well-established Vancouver law firm.
The interview with the senior partner went well and Jennifer received an offer which was more than acceptable. She was very excited about taking the next step in her career.
Rob was one of my favourite clients. He had intellectually challenging work, treated my whole team respectfully, gave me reasonable deadlines, and promptly paid all of his bills without question.
Yet, there were lawyers in my firm who did not like working for Rob, who, being smart and creative, would frequently propose unusual business structures or litigation strategies and then insist that we convince him why they would not work.
At my high school, athletics were valued above academics. I am pretty sure that we had the only ‘Reach for the Top’ team (an academic competition) which had a student who failed a grade one year and returned to the team the next year. Needless to say, our team did not win.
On the other hand, our school had three football teams, all of which won their respective divisions just about every year.
I went to high school so long ago that personal computers were not yet a thing. All of the students were required to take typing, which did not sit well with Gerry. He announced on the first day of class that since, as a man, he was never going to be a secretary, he did not need to learn how to type. He then skipped all of the typing classes for the entire semester.
So, here is the situation. I am closing a deal with a senior partner from one of Canada’s largest law firms. Let’s call him “Big Law Guy.”
I am a senior partner myself, but with a medium-sized suburban law firm. By definition, he is supposed to be smarter than I am and his junior is supposed to be fortunate to be working for him instead of working with me.
It is an incontrovertible fact that young lawyers destined for private practice arrive at law firms without much clue as to how to practice law.
A lucky few are welcomed into a structured environment where good quality training, mentoring, and resources are provided to teach them their craft and to maintain quality control and client service while they learn.
I am on a fifty-five day segment of a one hundred and eleven day geriatric world cruise. That is not the official title – the cruise line just calls it a ‘world cruise.’ But if you think about who can afford the time and money to be on vacation for that length of time, you can see why the average age of the cruisers is high enough to make me, at 68 years old, one of the youngsters.
When I entered law school, each year the most powerful law firm in Montreal would obtain from McGill Law School the names of the ten students with the highest grades in their first year of law school and write to them to offer them summer jobs. I received such a letter when I completed my first year of law school in 1976.
Had I gone to law school a few years earlier, I would not have received that letter, because the firm extending it had made it a practice to exclude Jews from the program.
You may have heard the story about the flight attendant who assisted an elderly gentleman by giving him a pillow and a blanket, and then asked him if he was comfortable. The man replied, “I make a living.”
When I was young, my parents were not comfortable, but they insisted that I obtain a university education. They expected me to earn whatever I could in the summer to fund my education, and they agreed to cover the balance. Luckily, this was back in the days when university and law school were affordable in Canada.
We have all heard the expression, “write about what you know,” usually attributed to Mark Twain, who knew a thing or two about writing.
I don’t do that.