Yogalysha strikes again

Posted by Karen Koehler on February 25, 2012

yogalysha.jpgI had to bribe my children to read.

It started when Cristina reached Junior High and the other two were in grade school.  They never wanted to read for enjoyment. 

Growing up - I made weekly treks to the Lake Forest Park library underneath the neighborhood shopping center.  It was small.  I read every book in there - sometimes more than once.  So it was disorienting that my girls could not conceive of reading a non-school book.

For their first summer reading program I offered $5 per book over 200 pages.  They were not impressed.  Bargained me up to $10.  I figured they'd read five books max.  That first year all of them read over 20.  Laughed at me for being such a sucker.

I let them buy clothing with their newfound wealth.  Too late they realized that I would have furnished their back to school wardrobes anyway.  Next year they imposed a new condition on the bribe - it had to be paid it in cash.  Which I countered with - half cash, half to their savings accounts.

In the end the strategy worked.  The girls stopped reading for dollars and found themselves in love with various authors and stories.  This translated to the fact that all of them write beautifully.

Here is Alysha's latest blog.  It puts mine to shame.

Panic before the party

Posted by Karen Koehler on January 06, 2012

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Don't write out "to do" lists.  Don't want or need to see how much there is to do.  What would be the point. Besides, the lists go around and around inside my head like a pinwheel anyway.   

Lately though,  have been a bit filled to the gills.  Can obsess about work when the kids are away.  But when they return - it is kids plus work.  Add to that the house remodel and have no breathing space left at all.

This manifests the day before the party.  Rush to work.  On the way from car to office, drop off some recycling in dumpster.  Also drop keys.  Can here the clank at the bottom.  Reach over trying to grab them.  Dumpster lid flops across back.  Legs dangling, waving in the air.  See them.  Can't reach them.  Am unsuccessful dumpster diver. 

Walk into office and happily Mike is right there in the kitchen.  Tell him dropped keys and he gets a tool and goes to fish them out.  Don't realize it at the time but dropped keys are an omen.

Go straight to deposition.  Cristina calls to go to lunch.   Need to get Alysha's birthday present on the way.  Drive to store.  Buy present.  Go to Red Robin.  Noelle is not happy with me.  She is on break from school and waiting for my call.  Call and wait for her to get back to me.  Mommy Lawyer Guilt sets in.  Put brand spanking new iphone in purple case on lap to make sure hear it when rings.  Eat lunch.  Get up and drive back to office just in time for second deposition.

Am getting ready to leave office to go to the conference room when realize.  Don't have iphone.  Whaaaaaaa.  Look in purse and coat.  Dump purse out.  No phone. Forgot it was on lap so wouldn't miss Noelle.  Must have stood up and dropped it.  Call Red Robin.  No phone has been left.  Yeah right.  Call Cristina.  She will go back over there to find it.  She goes back.  It is gone.

Which brings us to the day of the party.  Have crossed it off on calendar.  DO NOT BOOK ME.  Have 2 dozen people coming to house that we've only been in for a week.  Jon the builder arrives at 7:15 and is working on the fireplace which won't be done for another week but at least is no longer a hole in the wall.  Dust is flying. 

Am checking email, writing preamble and conclusion sections for the two summary judgment responses (that Paul and Garth wrote).  The ones Grinches Nick and Dale filed the friday before Christmas Eve.  Have to make fruit salad, buy desert, find a gluten free version, get more food, wrap gifts, get card, do something with construction debris and moving blankets, figure out where dishes are and wash them.  Etcetera.

Email pops up.  Co-counsel Gordon is stuck in Las Vegas at the airport.  The flight is delayed.  He can't make it in time to cover the deposition set for 1:00.  I have to do it.  Waaaaaaaaaaaah.  At least it is by phone.  But wait.  Have no cel phone.  Lost it day before.  Have to go to office.   Drive.

Deposition starts.  And keeps going and going and going.  Engage in twitter rant with twitter pals.  Here is how it goes.

  • I'm not supposed to be working today. Supposed to be getting ready for alysha's 21 birthday party at our new house.Instead am stuck in dep.
  • Defense lawyer is moving at the pace of a slug. Am going crazy listening to his monotone. Want to shout out: HURRY UP!!! Bite tongue.
  • It is a ponderous, agonizingly slow, repetitive monotone that is driving me bonkers. I have places to go things to do for Pete's sake.
  • @davidsug seriously. The billable hour enables gross waste of time. If they got paid like us based on results - life would be better.
  • @mitchjackson if he was doing this in trial, the entire jury would have fallen asleep by now. Depos should be abolished!
  • @wyzgaonwords envision eyes rolling around, arms and legs twitching and aura of intense frustrated exasperation emanating from my rigid form
  • okay 1 hour 45 minutes and defense lawyer #1 is done. #2 is now starting off by asking THE SAME QUESTIONS already asked. Kill me now.
  • @Nicole1515 @DavidSug we should videotape the defense lawyers, not the witnesses.Maybe if they saw how awful they were, they'd stop.
  • #2 says. Ok have nothing further. Oh, one more thing... and he keeps on going and going. Will no longer be upset. This is my life.

Three hours have been sucked out of OUT OF OFFICE day.  Go for very quick run.  Have to.  Am mad crazed woman.  Need stress relief.    Cristina and Noelle get cupcakes, flowers, disco ball balloon.   Anne has ordered all the Thai Food per list written out during deposition.  It tells Rice & Spice do not deliver until 7:00 and please have it be hot. 

By time get home Jon the builder is gone.  Nancy and Gustavo the housecleaners fantastically are done and gone.  Scurry around house in a tizzy.

And then somehow it is time.  Everyone shows up.  Everything is perfect.  It is a family friend filled wonderful evening.  Alysha is 21.  We sing her happy birthday.  She blows out her candles.  Opens her gifts.  And eventually we call it a night.

 

The psychic jury artist

Posted by Karen Koehler on December 11, 2011

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The air starts crackling.

My mom, Mary Fung,  has come to watch opening.  Her smile stretches the width of her face.  She is wearing a polyester blue and white teeny striped suit that I distinctly remember from the 1970s.  Over a blue pair of Nike shock sneakers that I used to run in.  Hair pinned up in its forever bun.  She looks fairly adorable.  Everyone in the courtroom smiles back at her. 

 Am thinking – uh oh.

She tells me to comb my hair.  Offers me a comb.  Remind her the hair is not able to be combed.  She starts picking at my jacket.  There are strings hanging.  She starts to dig out a pair of clippers from her purse.  Tell her this is the style.  It is meant to unravel.  She wrinkles her nose up, scowls and makes a sound that sounds like this:   ugh.   Ron (co-counsel) comes over and says, just focus on opening.  Am thinking – no way.  Have to keep eye on mom. 

She begins to take cosmic readings.  Tells everyone that I don’t believe in her powers.  That doesn’t bother or stop her.

Tells our client she will heal him.  Tells the bailiff and clerk  their I.Q.s aren’t bad but she can help them improve.  To put this in perspective, she previously determined my brother’s dog Izzy had a higher I.Q. than George W. Bush.  Mine, if you must know, was quite high at birth.  Then my uncle Timmy dropped me on my head when I was two and that was that.  I’m pretty sure Izzy’s is higher than mine as well.

Her favorite thing to do in court is to sketch everyone (she’s really quite a good courtroom artist).  She then does their “readings.”  This is good because it keeps her occupied and I don’t have to worry that she’ll break out the crystal pendulum and start twirling it around.  It aids in her ability to make predictions and decisions.  Actually, probably should worry but have determined it to be a useless exercise.   The woman is incorrigible. 

Judge Hill returns.  The jury files in.  She reads the preliminary instruction.  The ritualistic words wash over me.  Mind grows still and focused.  Eyes close even though they physically are open.  This is what I say to myself:

This opening is for our client.    Let me speak the right words in the right way for him.  Give me calmness of spirit to do what needs to be done.  Give me strength for him.  Let the jury see the truth.  I am nothing but a conduit.  Let me do a good job for this man.

Don’t repeat it like a mantra.  Just let it cycle through once.   Breathing slows. Can feel the air as it rests in chest.  Breathe more slowly so it can rest more deeply.  Down to the center of where it needs to be.

Judge H finishes and says – please turn your attention to Ms. Koehler.

Walk back out, face the jury, and let it Flow.

After openings are over, check on mom.  She has made drawings of everyone.  There are mathematical calculations and little notes by all of their faces.  Instead of a jury consultant, we have a jury psychic.  She has to leave to babysit for my little sister.  She’ll share her findings with me later.

Walk her out to the hall.  Kiss her goodbye.  She says she is proud and gets a little tearful.  Am truly touched.  Watch the little polyester suit walk to the elevator.  Go back in.

Drawing:  Clark v. State jury by Mary Fung Koehler.

Note:  This is an excerpt from my trial diary day 2 Oct. 2011.

President Pooh

Posted by Karen Koehler on November 20, 2011

LACBA_s.jpgMy sister Susan is the middle child of the Koehler clan.  As kids we called her Poohhead.  Pooh for short.  Over the years she regularly demanded that we stop using that name.  When my children could talk, my sister Jenny told them to call her Auntie Pooh. 

Susan is a smart cookie.  She married her college sweetheart John and they live in a "beach cottage" in Manhattan Beach, LA.  My adorable neice Ryan keeps them hopping.  I don't think she's allowed to call her mom Pooh.

Susan is an amazing lawyer and a partner with the Sedgwick law firm.  She handles insurance disputes, fidelity, and really big cases.  Recently she's been going after the scam artists involved in the mortgage lending scandals. 

When she was in college, she was president of her sorority.  That training has come in handy.  This year, she's president of the Los Angeles County Bar Foundation.  It provides pro bono services to those who can't afford a lawyer.  We are all very proud of her.  Snaps for President Pooh!!!

Photo:  Beautiful Poo on the far right is rocking the stylin' BCBG strapless number (with jacket) and Dolce & Gabbana shoes (not pictured).