A man murders his father and his mother and is prosecuted for both crimes. He is hauled up in front of the judge and pleads guilty. When it comes to sentencing, he begs for mercy because he is an orphan. That is the classic explanation of what constitutes chutzpah.
If you are looking for other examples of chutzpah, you may be able to find them in the legal profession.
One of my best clients was a partnership between two men who I will call Ken and Gordon.
Ken was the sales guy. Gordon was the strategic thinker and administrator. The company had offices in several Canadian cities and a few U.S. states. There were a good number of companies and trusts on the corporate chart.
Ken and Gordon owned the main company, which had made money for many years and was valuable. It was financed by bank loans secured by personal guarantees of the owners.
Many years ago when I was working 1,000 hours a week and my daughter was very young, I was trying to get her to eat an apple after a busy day at work. She was having none of it. Frustration levels were rising on both sides. Finally, with tears streaming down her face, she blurted out, “I want my parents dead.”
“Blue Sky Law” refers to securities regulation. The expression is said to have originated in Kansas and refers to hucksters who could sell ‘a piece of the blue sky’ to unsophisticated farmers.
Back when I was more impressed with Big Law than I am now, we were approached by a senior lawyer who I will call Jake who wanted to leave Big Law and join our medium-sized suburban wannabe downtown law firm.
“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.
Back when I was practicing law, I considered publications like The Lawyer’s Daily to be an unwelcome but necessary evil. I would skim the headlines and case digests looking for information that I had to know to remain competent. There were many times that I did not even read news about upcoming legislation. I figured that it was a waste of time to focus on things that may never be enacted, and I could just wait until it became law to worry about it.
In the 14th century, the philosopher Jean Buridan told a story about a donkey who, equidistant between two piles of hay, starved to death because he could not decide which one to eat.
Adults often ask young children what they want to be when they grow up. I knew one child who insisted that he wanted to be a fire truck. Nobody could convince this fellow that he could not be a fire truck. You can be a “firefighter” they told him. But no, he insisted that he wanted to be a fire truck.
I whine a fair bit about the legal profession. Occasionally someone asks me what I would have done differently if I could go back and start over. Of course, the trite answer is “be an optometrist.” (Some neat things about being an optometrist: (i) you get to wear a white coat; (ii) the hours are fairly regular; (iii) you rarely have to worry about getting sued for prescribing the wrong lenses; and (iv) according to Dr. Google, your average salary will be higher than the average salary of a lawyer.)
The magic of a franchise system is that someone brilliant develops a business system and then documents every step that must be taken to permit someone less capable to follow the system and replicate the results. So, wherever you go in North America, someone much less accomplished than Colonel Sanders can sell you a bucket of chicken that is just as tasty and unhealthy as the original.