The Velvet Hammer™ -

Head jerks forward.  Eyes open.  Where the heck am I.   Are we still in Minneapolis.   Can’t figure out if the plane has taken off.  Or is landing.  It hasn’t taken off.  Thirty minutes later we bounce down in Fargo North Dakota.

Alan the Executive Director of the trial lawyer association has texted me to call him.  I do.  The airport terminal is clean, new and small.  At the landing by the escalator, a big tall blond woman is hugging another big tall blond woman in greeting.  They appear to be sisters.  Talking in a language that is definitely not English. 

No one’s waiting for me.  Walk outside.  There are five cars.  At the far end of the roadway sits a solitary van.  Covered in ads.  Look at phone.  No call back from Alan.   Raise my arm.  The van doesn’t move.  Raise arm again.  The van moves an inch then stops.   Still not sure if it is a cab.  Raise arm one more time and wave.  The van creeps forward.  The driver seems a little amazed that he has a customer.   Ask him to take me to the Holiday Inn.   Turns on the clicker.  It starts at $4.50.

Am looking out the window.  It is dusk.  There are no hills.  We approach an area that has some low rise buildings.  The tallest announces itself to be the Holiday Inn. Hand over $13.00 and a tip.

Check in.  The clerk says turn right then right then left.  Or is it left then right.  Can’t remember.   The room numbers are in the 400s but am on the first floor.   Looking for 171.  Now the numbers are in the 100s.  Back to 400s.  Criss cross the pool area a couple times, rolling luggage.   There’s a pirate’s ship in there.  And two ping pong tables.   Finally find the room.  Pull out ipad.  Hit Fandango.  There’s a movie theater close by.  It is 9:15.  Call downstairs. 

Is it safe to walk to the theater at night.

As in creepy people safe or getting hit by a car safe, he says.

Both. I laugh.

No creepy people, but you have to cross a road.  

He offers to drive me one way so will know how to walk back. 

Get lost twice walking to the lobby.  Adam is standing in the middle of it.  Waiting for me.   He invites me to get into the front passenger seat of the van.  He is from Minnesota.  He has a slight build and slightly greased dark hair.  Not the best complexion.  Is in his final quarter of hotel and restaurant management.  Has an interview to potentially work at the Four Seasons in Maui.  If only he can get the job and his girlfriend will agree to move.   What a dream that would be.

The theater is two blocks away.  After popcorn, diet coke and two hours of movie happiness, I run in the wind.  Through the parking lot of the sleepy theater.  Past  the McDonalds.  Get lost inside the Holiday Inn Express which is the wrong hotel.  Find a janitor who points me  to the correct regular Holiday Inn.  Where I get lost again.  Spend more time lost in the hotels than outside.   Find 171.  Finish powerpoint for the speech and it is just about 3:00 am.

Wake up at 7:30.  Lie there til 8:30. Hustle.  Make only one wrong turn before arriving at the conference. 

A man is walking towards me beaming.  It is Alan.  His phone went dead last night.  He stayed out late.  Michael Freeman (speaker after me) was out with the group at the Lucky Seven last night.  He was so fun.  Not many speakers hang out with us like that, Alan says.  I am of course a case in point.  Anyway, he got home late, charged his dead phone.  And at 6:00 am it restarted itself off and woke him up.   Beeping with my message (“I’m here)  from the night before.    He slaps his head with his hand.

Don’t worry about it.  I didn’t mind walking from the airport to the hotel.  He isn’t sure if I’m joking.  I wait a few seconds.  Then laugh.

It is 9:10.  There are two large trays of giant cinnamon rolls.  Have been trying to reduce morning sugar intake.   At least they are baked not fried.  The choice is frosted or pecan glazed.  Do calculations in head and choose frosted.  Turns out to be a good choice because there is almond paste in there. 

 The speaker before me finishes early at 9:15.  They take a break.  I plug in my computer before the tech guy can get there.  Mark the attorney putting on the seminar, greets me.  We met sometime around 2004 or 2005 at an AAJ car crash seminar in New Orleans.   Alan is fairly tall and big.  Mark is bigger and taller.  He is twinkling around me.  Buzzing actually. 

Dave Bossart, a hall of fame lawyer, comes and gives a hug.  Have heard him speak many times around the country.   He is twinkling too.

 Am eating the cinnamon roll in between saying hello. 

Break ends.  Mark gives an introduction.  And then says – let’s give her our traditional North Dakota Welcome.

Am thinking – do they say something quaint from the movie.

The room rustles.  Chairs are pushed back.  They give a standing ovation.  Before the presentation.

This is the nicest welcome have ever received.  Usually am greeted by a polite semi round of applause from those who are not glued to solitaire or the news on their laptop.  Or more typically – expectant critical stares.

The glow of being appreciated before have opened mouth, carries me through the next hour and a half. Finish.  Dave gives two more hugs.  Michael F is next.  More hugs.  The only bad thing is, am leaving in an hour.  Should have stayed longer.  But it is mother’s day weekend, and need to get home.

Walk down the hall to the lobby.  It is 11:30.  There is a luncheon in a banquet room.  Filled with women with short white puffy hair.   In front of the door, the sign reads:  Goodwill Bridge Club.  Reach the front desk – can you call me a cab.  They give me a look.  Remember the shocked look on the cab driver’s face.

We have a van and can give you a ride, they say.  They check their books.  No problem in ten minutes.  Walk back to room.  Mind wanders and lands on the Morrow case I tried a few years ago.  Against Holiday Inn for a dangerous courtesy bus – in Seattle.   Will not mention this to the van driver.

 Do not get lost.  Change, pack, return to lobby.

Kip is putting stamps on a box.  Just a minute, he says.  And walks me to the van.  Tosses my bag in the back and has me get into the front passenger seat.

Kip asks if I’ve seen the movie Fargo.  A long time ago, I say.  How many times have you seen it.  He says too many times to count and laughs.

His hair is light brown and buzz cut.  He is another big one.  With freckles.  He has been to Seattle once.  Saw Pike’s Place.  Mainly he goes to Oregon.  His uncle lives there.  He loves to fish.  He caught a sturgeon on the Columbia River.  Have you ever seen those – they are scary looking.  Prehistoric, he says.   In fact, I have a picture of one of them on my phone. 

We are on the elevated entrance ramp loop to the freeway.  He pulls out his phone and starts scrolling through it.  I’m watching the edge of the ramp.  He manages to stay on the road.  Here it is!:  he announces proudly.  Hands over his phone.   Yep.  There he is.  Holding a sturgeon.

Did you eat it, I ask.

When I was a girl, one of my favorite fairy tales was about a prince who was turned into a carp.  I can feel the fear of the prince.   

Nope, threw it back,  Chip says.

Arrive at the airport.   Chip hands over the suitcase.  Thanks, I say.  Yaaah, y’betcha, he grins.  I say bye.  He waves and tells me to come again.  Have turned and am walking into the building.   He yells – and make sure you see the movie Fargo again.

Suitcase is packed.  We are out the door on the way to the airport. Cristina says - did you see the weather report.  Um, no Robert said it was in the mid 70s.  Seems a cool front is blowing in so minus that by at least 10.  I've packed shorts sandles, and a short skirt to give my talk in.   Oh great.

We land, get the rental car.  And drive in our red Chevy Aveo thru the Marie Antoinette style mansions lining the road to the historied Biltmore where the convention is.  Get lost but finally find registration.  They don't have me down.  Which is fine because my law partner has become ill.  So I check in as Paul and Cristina takes over Mary Elizabeth's spot.  Back to our car we go to the Bohm's house.

Robert, Georgia and their doggies welcome us to their charming villa.  We talk.  We eat. 

In the middle of it all, Cristina says Whitney Houston just died.  I think she's joking but not quite.  She isn't.  We look at FB and Twitter for more details.  Am on verge of tears.

Sarah the new associate joins us.  More talking.  More eating.  Finally cannot stall any longer.  It is 10:00 which means it is 11:00.  Which means haven't figured out a speech for tomorrow or done a powerpoint. 

Which means, must play with ipad.  Haven't done much with it yet.  Just got it.  Noelle started loading it with apps last week when I saw her.  Now it is Cristina's turn. 

Have you heard of Talking Tom. 

Why no, daughter I haven't.

You haven't. Really

No.

So up Talking Tom comes.  And we start talking to him.  And then we have him become us.  And well, there must be trial uses for such an app.  We investigate for 15 minutes. Click here to see the fruit of our efforts: 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X9WCvE5-aRo&feature=youtu.be

Yes ladies and gentleman, this ipad app has enormous trial potential.

But for now, it's time to get down to business.  Must figure out PPT for speech.  So can focus all attention on Robert's chocolate chip pancakes in the morning.

Am being good patient non-wiggling member of audience at the convention.  For several hours.  It is the Luvera Seminar without Luvera (dear Paul please get well).  Another Paul (Stritmatter) my partner, is playing the role of host to a rapid fire panel of speakers.

Paul tells a story to illustrate the point that jurors always like him the best of anyone in the courtroom.  He says he works hard to be professional and nice and liked the best.  And over time whether inside or outside of the courtroom, it is a habit that has stuck.  He is a very pleasant and likeable fellow.

A real paragon. 

Which means of course there needs to be a counterpoint.

As the hours tick by, am starting to feel a bit wiggly.  The seventh speaker's subject is Young pups in the world of old dogs:  what it's like to work with bullying opposing counsel.

He talks of being pummeled by the mean defense lawyer.  Over and over again.  In discovery.  In motions.  At trial.  And ultimately losing.  And what that's like, and what that means for him.  And as he's thinking aloud on this very personal subject and being quite vulnerable... well...the Goblin awakens.

Oh No.  Feels almost like indigestion.  Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn, and caldron bubble.   As the speaker continues to speak of patience and persistence, The Goblin has a mind of its own and springs forth right out of my mouth and says something along the lines of: what's wrong with fighting back.  And as the speaker begins to respond, the Goblin makes a pithy comment about world peace, love and happiness and spouts off other challenging, nonpolite, bad Goblin words.

Paul (Mr. Iconic Good Man)  is up there looking at me or rather at the Goblin with wide eyes but he knows there's no stopping it.    Others in the audience gallantly charge in to rescue the speaker who is warding off the Goblin fairly adeptly anyway. 

And then ding, time is up.  Goblin goes back to sleep.  And it is the eighth speaker's turn. 

The next day am moderating for Rick Friedman whose subject is: How to be a Good Trial Lawyer.  Rick is as equally perfect as Paul.  A very good person.  Kind.  Gentle.  Caring.  Compassionate.  Soft Spoken. Humble.  Looking for the shared Moral Core.   And what does he want to start off with.  Why about speaker number seven's topic from the day before. 

Am sitting there on the stage off to the side of Rick facing the audience.  Ouch.  Oh that bad Goblin has really just done it.  There's no escape.

At break, go and talk to number seven and apologize.  He graciously says his speech actually needed "it" (Goblin's bad behavior). It illustrated his point.  Am properly put in role of Old Dog.    Accept that. 

We finish an entire day of seminars and luncheon and more speeches.  Have been pretty much punished fully for not keeping mouth shut and letting Goblin out the day before.  Go for long run.  Clean up and arrive at Araxi restaurant for dinner with large group in the wine room.  Ready to relax and have fun.  Sit down.  The last three empty seats are across from me.  Who comes in to fill them - why speaker number seven, his wife and son. 

Awkward.

But Goblin is no longer present.  And speaker number seven has already bestowed forgiveness.

So dinner ends up being quite lovely indeed.

Photo:  Taken by repentant me during Rick's presentation.

Eagerly open the door to the hotel and rush over to the little table in my room.  There's the candle and right next to it should be the chocolate covered biscotti.  Last night found it in the little goodie bag left by one of the convention sponsors.  Didn't eat it then, but was saving it for a moment just like right now.  Except there is no biscotti. 

Where could it be.  Did I already eat it.  No.  Pretty sure did not.   Look all over room and suspicion grows.  Have adjoining room with Cristina and her friend Michele.  Would she - no she would never.  Open connecting door - they are out on the town.  Look inside room.  What a mess. Consider taking a picture of it, but decide to preserve world peace and don't.   Find various wrappers around the place but can see no evidence of missing biscotti.

Had been out with dear friends at a restaurant and did not order dessert because of the biscotti which isn't here.  Find a pack of gum and begin to chew.

A little while later I hear her calling me.  They are back.  Being cute and delightful.  I say - did you eat my biscotti. Cristina says - what biscotti.   Michele says - yes she did.  At the same time.

After spending four hours in CLE followed by three hours of receptions and a meal, I want one little piece of sugar and it has been consumed by my daughter.

This is how the second day of the WSAJ convention ends.

Right through the side door, left at the street and another quick left on the outside of the hotel property line.  That way I don't have to run through the pool sunbathers.  Turn right and run along the boardwalk hugging the side that is sometimes covered in shade.  There's not much of a wind and it is mid afternoon.

The people are fairly colorful.  In all ways.  Kids with bright tatoos.  Tourists bedecked in loud attire.  I especially like the women wobbling on the bricks in sky high heels. I see a few in boots which makes no sense at all since it is 80 degrees.  However, the most ridiculous costume award goes to the woman wearing the fur vest over her swimsuit and Uggs with the Chanel purse.

Dogs are very little.  I almost step on a teeny white chihuahua that springs too close to my feet.  There's a man with a bright blue guitar.  Roller skaters weave their legs into quick figure eights as they race through red or yellow cones placed apart at perfect intervals on the pavement.  My favorite runner is a man in shiny green shorts over black fishnet stockings with a multicolored tucked in nylon shirt.  He runs on his toes.  Which is kind of cute.

The boardwalk veers to the right.  This is the channel where the enormous cruise ships float out to sea.  They look like giant icebergs with windows.  People sit on an unnaturally green hilly lawn and wave as they go by.  Rented sedgeways outnumber the bicyclists.  No one wears a helmet.

I pass a restaurant.  There are two cats that roam around - a gray tabby and a black one with green eyes.  They are totally nonchalant.  Don't appear to be bothered by any of the small dogs that yip at them.  I dodge the waiters who traverse the boardwalk which links the kitchen to the diners who sit at tables with kaki colored umbrellas. 

Come to the marina.  Some of the yachts are pretty big.  All of them are pristine.  Watch the people rent jetskiis and buzz off.  Take a left up the pedestrian part of the bridge over the channel.  It is loud, dirty and ugly as the cars rush by.  I just want to get to the crest so I can turn around and look at the spectacle of the boats and aqua blue underneath me.  Turn around and run back.

This time when I get to the main part of the beach, I stay on the sand.  There is a little breeze but no shade.  My shoes are coated in white.  It is much quieter here.  I see a pelican come in for a landing.  Something about its giant beak makes me so happy.  Probably a left over childhood memory from a fairy tale. 

People lie on towels in the sand or on chairs laid out by hmm, what's the politically correct name for cabana boy.  I can see some of the layerouters are toasted to an uncomfortable shade of red. It's amazing that they can't seem to feel the pain of their burns because they just continue to lay out there. 

I arrive back at the hotel. De-sweat.  Head out to the PanAmerican Art Projects Gallery.  And get lost in a sea of paintings.

(Pictured is Janda in one of the backrooms of the gallery).

I have an hour between meetings.  Rush up to 11^th floor.  Toss on red bikini and gold flip flops (hey it’s Miami).  Throw on shorts and black flowy t-shirt thing.  Ipod.  Kindle.  AAJ logo beach bag with computer.  Hat.  Sunglasses.  Rush back down.  Walk under gorgeous canopy of palm trees leading to the pool.  Grab towel.  Traverse crowd on loungers surrounding pool.  Keep walking out through little gate.  Skim across promenade.  Ahhh.  Toes hit fine white warm sand.

Only have an hour so don’t bother with chair guy.  Lay towel down.  Wiggle out of tshirt/shorts. Pop in ipod.  Open kindle – am reading The Help.  Remember clicking through about five pages before dozing off.  Wake up at 2:55. Have meeting at 3:00.  Throw stuff back on.  Bag everything up.  Retrace route back.  Escalator up to third floor.  Enter meeting room. 

It is the litigation group chair training session.  Mandatory.  Because I’m co-chairing the new spinal cord injury litigation group (hurrah).  I listen with one ear.  Draft the articles, membership affidavit and application.  Email the finished documents to the staff who are teaching the session.  Put down my computer, listen to them finish up and look around.  Really look around.  Study the dozen or so people in the room.  They are the new litigation group chairs.  Just about the time I’m thinking – hmmm they are all in suits or “business casual.”  I look down at my legs and see there is a nice coat of sand on the left one.  It extends down my entire calf.  Both of the tops of my feet are nice and sandy. 

I realize one other thing.  With the exception of Lauren who is AAJ staff, I am the only woman in there.

I leave the balcony and sit in the hall outside of the Periwinkle room.  My mission – convince AAJ SLGCC (don’t ask me what it stands for) to approve a spinal cord injury litigation group.  They are late to call me.  I’ve been waiting about 25 minutes.  I get 5 minutes to talk.  And I’m splitting it with my friend Warren Collins.

When we were in Vancouver this past July, I was sitting in another hallway waiting to hear what SLGCC had to say about my presentation.  Confident because what better cause could there be than helping attorneys who help some of the most severely injured people in the world.  I wrote a beautiful presentation with MSFT publisher complete with visuals.  Printed meeting notices.  Drafted all the documents.  Prepared to the max.  Lauren of AAJ comes out and says the group does not gain approval.  I am mute.  It doesn’t register.   I’m ushered back into the room and SLGCC tells me we are being tabled until I can …well, basically do a better job of convincing them.

The child in me throws a super duper tantrum.  Have I ever told you how much I hate to lose – at anything.   But thanks to many years of practice, serene calm yoga-like façade kicks in.  And (after a bit of thrashing around) I decide not to give up.

Fast forward to today.  I walk into the meeting.  Get up and give a one minute presentation.  Let Warren tell his story of starting an SCI section in London (which also was initially denied 10 years ago).  They usher us out the door.  We wait one minute.  We’re ushered back in.  And it is official.  There is now an AAJ SCI litigation group.  Warren and I will co-chair it.  It will be absolutely fabulous.  And the first meeting will be Tuesday from 1 to 2.

Now, I’m going to go for a run in the beautiful south beach breeze.

I’m sitting on the 3^rd floor balcony of Loews Hotel on South Beach.  Aviator sunglasses, white rolled up jeans, black flat gladiator sandals, a black tied around the neck blousy shirt with little rosettes.    My hair which can behave so badly in Seattle, is soft and poofy and blowing in the strong warm breeze.  You’d probably think I was on vacation except I have a computer on my lap.

I began attending AAJ conventions a decade ago.  The first time I went, I clung to my then law partner Pat LePley’s side.  There were so many people – so many of them loud people.  It was overwhelming.  Over the years I’ve developed friendships.  I love seeing everyone and hearing about what they’ve been up to. 

I hear a scary fact today that reminds me that AAJ is not just about building relationships.  The billions spent by powerful lobby groups is being discussed.  The Chamber of Commerce has a budget of $100M.  Big Pharma $30 M.  The insurance companies and big corporations gazillions of millions.   So who speaks up for the rights of the little folk.   I learn that AAJ has an annual lobbying budget of $2M.    How have we managed to preserve the right to jury trial and prevent total destruction of the civil justice system when we are a financial peanut compared to these Big Guys.

I’m not the most political person in the world.  But I do feel good about supporting AAJ.  Plus being on this deck is a pretty nice little deal.

We are at a convention banquet and it is my last official appearance as President of my state trial lawyer association.  Gerhard – the Executive Director – is going to say a few words.  I’m sitting up on the podium along with other officers looking at the audience of smiling faces.  This is a tradition.  Time to pass the gavel.  And Gerhard starts off:  “I have to admit, I was kind of dreading having Karen as President.”  The audience gasps.  Not sure.  Is that a joke? 

I’m laughing.  It isn’t.  He definitely was worried about me being the “face” of the organization.  Sure I’m competent, but I also am hmmmm unpredictable.  Mainly because I don’t like scripts, speak my mind, and can be a bit irreverent.  He then goes on to say very nice things.  But still, afterwards people come up to me worried that I may have been offended.  Hahaha  not hardly. 

One of my goals as President was to keep Gerhard constantly entertained.  Each month I wrote a column for our newspaper.  He retained the right to edit it.  So, of course I would turn in the column late so he had to be quick.  Several times I managed to turn it in so late that he couldn’t do anything.    One of his favorites was probably the time I "threw punch" out our national association (AAJ) for failing to have a diversity plan.  I actually made some folk very angry.  The article called “DISSENT” had a photo of me with duct tape over my mouth.  AAJ’s ED called up Gerhard and asked why he let me publish the piece.  Hah!  Why indeed.   The following wonderful quotes came from that article.  

In the forward to A Mathematician's Apology (Cambridge University Press 1940) Prof. G.H. Hardy says:

It is never worth a first class man's time to express a majority opinion. By definition, there are plenty of others to do that.

Progress is made, not by comfortably agreeing with the conventional wisdom, but by having the courage to say what no one else is saying and to say it with clearly articulated reasons that motivate people to change their opinions.

Perhaps the greatest value of dissent is "that the sponsoring and protection of dissent generally have progressive implications" for social change because "[d]issent communicates the fears, hopes, and aspirations of the less powerful to those in power." Dissent, Injustice, and the Meanings of America. Steven H. Shiffrin. (Princeton University Press 1999).

 There is a reason why law students are taught to argue both sides of a case.  Lively debate is considered a fundamental touchstone to the truth finding process necessary in a democratic society.  An organization that shies away from embracing the expression of dissident opinion, no matter how insulting, is an organization that risks being undermined and weakened by its own self satisfaction. 

But the peculiar evil of silencing the expression of an opinion is, that it is robbing the human race; posterity as well as the existing generation; those who dissent from the opinion, still more than those who hold it. If the opinion is right, they are deprived of the opportunity of exchanging error for truth: if wrong, they lose, what is almost as great a benefit, the clearer perception and livelier impression of truth, produced by its collision with error.

John Stuart Mill, (Oxford: Blackwell, 1947) at 15.  Quoted in Justice Brennan’s opinion in New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U.S. 254, 270 (1964).

My friend  Ron Ward, a true hero for the cause of diversity, sent me this quote:

".....If there is no struggle, there is no progress. Those who profess to favor freedom and yet depreciate agitation, are men who want crops without plowing up the ground; they want rain without thunder or lightning. They want the ocean without the awful roar of its many waters."

FREDRICK DOUGLASS, West Indian Emancipation Celebration at Canandaigua, New York, August 4, 1857.

Speak up.  Be heard.  Make a ruckus every now and then for something you believe in.

This is how we do it!

It is high noon and I squeeze in a run before hanging out with Cristina at the pool.   With AAJ convention having occurred last month, here is what I notice.  When my kids don't come with me, I socialize much more in between all the events.  When they attend, I am conscious about needing to spend as much time as possible with them.   I never achieve a perfect balance with work and family.   I'm constantly saying to my kids - what do you want to do today.  This is code for - how am I going to fit in everything that needs to be fit in today.  

We go to the small pool where she has been since the morning.  She lasts about thirty minutes before she's tired of the sun and goes back to the condo.  I am loaded with ipod and chick lit.   The next thing I know, my phone is ringing, Cristina's on her way back, and my hand has fallen asleep from me laying the wrong way on top of  it.  The problem by the way, with me taking a nap in the middle of the day, is that I will still be writing a blog at 1:30 am. 

We return to our cottage, rustle up suitable attire, and off we go to the big bash at The Great Hall.  What happens there you wonder?  Well, words cannot describe.  Here is the video.

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Awards luncheon at the Great Hall

I have so many credits stored up I don't ever Need to attend a CLE.  Where did this bad attitude of mine come from.  I've never really liked lectures.  I can remember correcting the grammar of my high school English teacher one too many times and being sent out for alternative "advanced" tutoring for the rest of the school year.  Today I'm late because I decide to go for a morning run since we are going white water river rafting after lunch.  The speaker is Eric Oliver.  He's very good but again, I've heard him several times before.  And so I split my attention between him and my computer.  The stuff I've already heard washes around me, but then he says or shows something that gets my attention because it is new and helpful to me.  This is why even despite my bad boredom behavior, I like going (more or less) to CLEs.

The luncheon is in The Great Hall.  It looks like the inside of a ski lodge in all its big wood glory.  It is lunch time and of course I'm thinking, where's the food.  We are a bit late getting started, but no food.  The speeches have launched and we are a good 20 minutes into things before the salads start arriving.   I'm on the official platform since I'm introducing an award recipient.  We get a basket of bread as we watch the salads being delivered to everyone else (we're always last to get served).   It is around 1:00 and our salads arrive.  Unfortunately there are no utensils.  Those arrive.  No salad dressing.  I ask for it and that arrives.  No butter for bread - I ask for it that arrives.  Food service isn't really the highlight of the Sunriver experience.

Here are the award recipients:

New Member - Angela Macey Cushman

Public Justice - JoHanna Read

Pillar of Justice - Bob Dawson

President's Award - Steve Bulzomi

Trial Lawyer of the Year - Mark Kamitomo

Speeches are interesting things to watch.  Everyone has a different way of doing them.  Some people have every single word written out in a script.  Right before it's my turn, here are the notes I scratch onto a slip of 2x2" paper to remind me not to miss anything:

"2^nd son - 16M.  Valentines day 91/92 4.5M.  Pearl Harbor.

The lunch is running too long because we started late.  27 of us are going on a white water river rafting trip and are supposed to meet at the place at 2:00.  It is 1:50 and we have to sneak out before the Presidents' speeches are done.  I feel badly about this as I'm up on the platform.  Very bad form.  But no choice.   Drop Stritmatter off at his place so he can change, rush with daughter to our place so we can change, and make it to the meeting place only 10 min. late.  Sign waivers allowing them to essentially kill us with no recourse, put on sun screen, pop Dramamine then pile into converted school bus for bumpy ride to the river.  Get off bus, spray on bug repellant, put on still wet life vests, divide ourselves into 4 boats, and head out.

Being on the river is so funnnnnnnn! Our boat is the Best!  We fend off one-way water gun fights from a hostile raft, navigate the rapids and play games to bounce people out into the water.  I swear, our tour guide was a young version of Crocodile Dundee.  Get back on bus, back to Sunriver and with sopping wet clothes rush directly to the WOW reception.  OTLA is having their formal dinner right afterwards so their lawyers are all dressed up.  At one point they take a picture of all the female past presidents of both groups, and everyone lines up with Judy Massong and I absolutely dripping at the end.

Rush back to change for board meeting, where the food this time is lined up against the wall smorgasbord style.  Have a  salad (semi-healthy) and mashed potatoes (tasty but not healthy) and do good deeds.

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Mary Alice McLarty wins AAJ VP election

The convention comes to a climax this morning. It is election time. Contested election time. You can feel the sense of expectation. There is a bit of pomp and circumstance. As casual as I can be, I also like to go through rituals. They remind you that there have been those before and there will be those after. The ballots are cast and counted. And for the first time in the history of the organization, a woman has won a contested election. The underhorse has pulled an upset.

I don't smile until I determine that I am not hallucinating and she actually has won. I am beaming as I leave the convention center, leave the hotel, and leave Vancouver B.C.

A couple days ago if you asked me how I felt about AAJ, it wouldn't have been pretty. I was boiling hot angry ticked off mad. Nothing that a two hour run (have you ever noticed that being upset makes for good exercise) wouldn't cure though. The SLGCC (don't ask me what it stands for) is a group that you need to pass by in order to start a litigation group. I felt there should be a spinal cord injury litigation group. They weren't so sure. In fact they were pretty sure not. They tabled the application. I am a poor loser (another personality flaw I do admit). Hence my fury. Part of me said - screw it, I can do something else with my extensive free time. But the trial lawyer part of me said - no. I'm going to see this through. These clients, these cases, and the attorneys who handle or aspire to handle them deserve to have a national group.

What should have happened today, was that there would have been a first meeting. Instead, we are limited to having an "organizational get together to see if there is any interest." I am wearing shoes with nice cushy platforms that are tender on my blisters of yesterday. Even so I grumble as I traverse the length of the convention center until I come to almost the very end where voila, the non-meeting will be held.

We have a choice to be negative and mad, or to suck it up and look for the positive. So I explain the history of the non-group and ask for help. (In voir dire it is called "give to get"). Seated across from me is Warren Collins who hails from London. He tells us that he proposed an SCI group to the British version of AAJ (APIL) years ago and was turned down for almost the same reasons. They reconsidered and now it is one of the most successful sections in APIL. I want to hug him. I had been feeling so icky with being "tabled". Here was Warren, validating the entire concept. The non-group brainstorms and encourages and plots how to get approval. AAJ has sent its liason (a disconcertingly handsome man I must say - yes, I do say these kind of things from time to time) and he is entirely good natured and helpful. To prove that the non-meeting has occurred, I then "flip" everyone with my miniflip of course.

We will create a facebook page and an email list of attorneys around the country who would like to be in a hopefully future group. If you are interested, email me and I'll add you to the list.

The moral to this story. Hmmm. There are times when the only thing that will make a difference, is perseverance.

My sister has given me a deliciously beautiful pair of shoes that are too big for her. They are gray and sparkly - totally not "business attire" - and therefore entirely appropriate for me to wear today. Problem is, the left shoe is too big for me too! So I'm walking around the vast convention center, heel flapping, trying to look totally cool. The biggest initial problem this causes is that I can't hustle from room to room fast enough to watch the overlapping programs that I'm interested in. I make up for it by saying hi to everyone I pass which hopefully keeps them looking at my smile and not my flapping footwear.

I walk into the bad faith litigation seminar. David Beninger is speaking. Remember what I've said about being bored so easily. Well, it is pretty impossible when Beninger speaks because he is so danged smart-quick-eloquent-poised. I did come up with my speech last night...er morning. Here's the title: "UIM Bad Faith (sorta) Jeopardy". I figure it will be a nice contrast: David's Intimidating Brilliance followed by TV Knock off Game Show by Karen. I am Trebek and Pat and David will be the contestants. It goes swimmingly well. I will remember this "co-op people at the last minute" approach for future seminars.

From here I need to go sign up for another litigation group - opposite end of the building down another floor. By now the sparkly shoes are absolutely undelicious. In fact I can distinctly feel a blister forming. I'm walking(hobbling) slowly back and forth to all my meetings. Finally I can't take it anymore. I need to traverse the entire blasted convention center to get up to my free lunch. So I do what any other person would realize is the best solution - yes indeed. I take off the shoes and sigh with contentment as I run to my meal.

Today I go to the traumatic brain injury seminar. We're putting on a mock trial. I get there at the begining (a rare occurrence) but even more amazing, I don't leave until 5:30 pm. Unprecedented attendance for me. Initially I stay because my role is to do the closing argument so I need to know what the facts and arguments are. I have little expectation but Gary Pillersdorf does the plaintiff opening and you already know how much I love him. He is very transparent, perhaps a tad too flippant and New Yawkawrish for these west coast jurors. I do catch them smiling at him, because he is so darling.

But even when Gary is done, the rest of the day is fascinating. My friend Gordon Johnson put the program together and I must say bravo Gordon. The lawyers are all really good and Stewart the judge adds the right tone. There's also a consultant who runs a live jury of real people. She converses with them throughout the trial, getting their impressions. They are a little timid at first, but then get the hang of it, break out and speak with great frankness. Ouch! I love hearing their criticisms and viewpoints - they pretty much match many of my snap opinions - except the young 'un. He's way better than I thought he would be. The case is framed within the scope of the dreaded "admitted liability" scenario. Which means they are zeroed in on judging the plaintiff.

Most of the lawyers stay the whole day, even when their role is done. We are such a competitive breed us trial lawyers. We want to see what the jurors have to say. We want to know if we are going to win. Even though this is not the real deal.

I'm rushing past a sign, when I double back. Michael Freeman is going to be speaking. I pull out my phone and dial him. Woo hoo we are able to get together for lunch right away.

I take him to the smorgasborg in Leader's Forum. Hey - if my firm is going to pay the extra funds needed to support AAJ - well, I'm going to eat for free whenever possible. Plus the food here is really fresh and good. In fact, I have a salad with balsamic vinegar dressing and vegetables and two helpings (hey I don't eat meat and there was nothing else) of cute little roasted potatoes, an entire plate of fruit and half a cream puff (a cream puff is not candy. I haven't violated my ban on candy).

Michael is as hyper as I am. We are like two atoms bouncing off the walls as we eat our free food. He's telling me about a new epidemiological paper he is writing with several other geniuses. And I'm smiling and nodding my head and understanding about one out of every ten things he says.

I'm late for the Women's Leadership event ... because I didn't feel like getting up any earlier. I go because I want to show support, the topics aren't really of too much interest for me since I am now such an old attorney (oh I am just such an impatient person - a true vice). I really arrive at the perfect time - because it is lunch! I find the room, sit in the nearest seat, look to my right and how perfect. I've seated myself next to Janice Kim.

I first heard Janice speak probably ten years ago now. I love her because she is completely fine being herself which is great. She is from Hawaii, and is one of those people who is always thinking about things in a Jerry Seinfeldish kind of way - pulling out the simple essence of the matter. Making you go --- hmmmmm. She's introspective and always putting her life lessons into her "art."

We spend the whole lunch catching up and reconnecting. Every time I see her she has "something new" she wants to try out. I hope I can see her presentation. There is always so much going on at AAJ, that they have to pile events on top of and over one another.