Draw the Line

In the practice of law it is difficult to know where to draw the line. A good deal of what we as lawyers do involves other people, whether as sources of information (when conducting "due diligence" or settling an estate, for example), as other Parties to a commercial agreement, as co-operating or opposing Counsel, as the object of a claim, or as our own Client. While communicating with other people is greatly facilitated by telecopiers and email, there remains the problem of getting a response to those immediate appeals, for communication is by definition a two-way street. Getting a response is furthermore the lubrication to the wheels of commerce, without which things quickly deteriorate. Additionally, the failure to obtain a timely response can precipitate some very unwelcome last-minute attendances, corollary amendments and in certain instances the equivalent of professional negligence (where a loss may have been suffered as a result). The difficulty, as I say, is to know where to draw the line; when, that is, does one become perturbed enough to begin pestering the other person for an answer?

The Recession is Over!

The world is reportedly pulling out of the global recession, at least if one can rely upon the conjectures of the likes of those who are regularly paraded about the BBC and CNN. It is nonetheless undeniable that there are still a great number of people who are seriously smarting from the collapse of the financial industry and the capital markets that once supported it. In addition, the event has unquestionably caused a lot of suspicion about what’s going on. Yet the bitter truth is that few if any have any better idea about where to invest money, a dilemma made all the more tortuous when one recalls that money doesn’t disappear, it just changes hands. So where indeed did all that money go?

Everyone Has One!

Whether I have joined the ranks of the "with-it" people, or merely succumbed to what is a cheap and ineffective shot at grandstanding, I care not. Thanks to the clever Mr. Google (one wonders how he gets paid for his efforts!), I am now afforded what I consider a rather slick mechanism - a blog - by which to broadcast my humble literary endeavours (though it remains to be seen whether the casting is any broader than my formerly targeted email audience). But that doesn’t matter either, for the interesting shift which this new forum has precipitated is one away from the specific, and more to the general, a progression I view as a type of literary graduation. One might imagine that such generalization would in effect dilute an otherwise interesting account, but I don’t think it is so. Besides, where necessary or desirable, fictional names may be employed. Nonetheless, the deeper sense is a shift not so much from fact to fiction as from personal to universal. What I have hitherto written throughout my entire life is largely journalistic in nature, which everyone knows means the grimey details of one’s uninteresting life. The time has perhaps come to distance myself from the admittedly tedious and repetitious accounts of my recurring personal tragedies, and to engage in a broader and more philosophical view of the human condition. I accept as well that after six decades of climbing up and down the hills of life one is qualified to cast a remote (and dare I say discerning?) eye upon the proceedings.

Cutting Back

With the turbid affairs of the office having now moderately settled, I am able to surface, at least momentarily, from the torrent of what has been an exceptionally busy time in the past little while. Much of the bustling commotion was due to nothing more than the urgency of two Clients to complete transactions by tomorrow, in both instances a case of the Seller wanting to unload what has effectively become an unwelcome encumbrance, not an unusual occurrence these days especially for the aging members of the population. Like so many, these Clients were looking for ways to simplify life, and that often means shedding superfluous investments. As I have long known only too well, property management is not to be undertaken lightly. Whenever I feel the need to sanctify what has otherwise been a profligate life-style, I have but to remind myself how attentive I have been over the years to every need of my own little real estate portfolio. Indeed, while I am wont to consider that I have never saved a penny in my life, it expiates my guilt not inconsiderably to recall the amounts I have poured into the maintenance of these properties. As a result of the recent global downturn, I have the added pleasure of being able to wake up each morning to see the entire buildings still intact, rather than miraculously sliced in half and evaporated, admittedly a gloating observation on my part (but somehow delicious retribution for all those nasty things people said of my spendthrift ways).

The Church Wedding

When I told my father that Robert and I were going to my Assistant's wedding this afternoon, he asked, "Is it a church wedding?". Uninitiated as I am to the mysteries of matrimony in general, I wasn't entirely sure what the significance of a church wedding was in particular, except to divine that it captured the more traditional aspect of the affair. In any event, I was able to report that indeed it was to be a church wedding, and in most respects traditional as far as I knew. Robert and I had previously visited the site of the wedding, since it was in the hinterland of the Township of Bathurst, and we wanted to ensure we found our way there on time on the appointed day. The church is located in the hamlet of Stanleyville, which likely houses little more than the very church in which the ceremony was conducted.

The Walking Stick

A walking stick is not a common accessory for the majority. Of those who are in need of one, it is equally probable that only a minority of them own a stick which qualifies as anything more than a support device, often as painfully shabby as the legs they are meant to assist. Yet there are those for whom a walking stick is far more than a functional apparatus. Indeed, a walking stick can be a weapon of singular virtue when properly employed. As much as one's first instincts might be to limit the demographics of people to whom a stick might appeal, in fact there is pretty much a stick for everyone, young or old. Of course the use of a stick (apart from decapitating weeds while walking the dog, for example) is predicated upon some degree of physical infirmity, otherwise it is little more plausible than a nosegay. The extent of one's disability need not, however, be great, as even a slight sprain or touch of arthritis admits to the use of one without apology.

You’re Known by the Heap that you Keep

It is hardly enlightened to observe that - especially in Western society - most people have a deep affection for the things they own. Materialism seems to be part and parcel of the so-called modern world. The automobile in particular has long been acknowledged as exemplary of this disposition. But the affiliation goes far beyond what is at its worst mere unilateral idolatry. The ownership of a car can promote fairly significant barriers between oneself and other human beings. While it might be thought that only those who enjoy the ownership (or lease) of high-end automobiles are likely to turn their respective noses well into the air, the truth is that there are as many divisions of ownership as there are automobiles. Each brand carries with it its own entitlements (and causes for segregation). So, for example, the operator of an energy-saving small machine is just as probable to sneer at gas-guzzling SUVs. Likewise the owners of practical and economic cars are no doubt ill-disposed towards the owners of excessive and opulent ones (my preference, by the way). Then there’s the German vs. North American thing; propane vs. fuel, and so on. There’s simply no end to the forces which drive automobile owners apart and consequently provide ample fodder for indexing and honking horns when perturbed by a bit of bad driving on the part of  the other.