Do you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?
Imagine you are a blonde LA model who gushes, chirps and bats her eyes as she sashays through life. One day you die but up in heaven you brazenly push the return to earth button. Back down you rocket.
At the same time, a brunette, stout, workaholic trial lawyer named Jane saves her senior partner’s life. She jumps in front of him just as a crazed former client shoots. She takes the bullet. Is on the operating table but it is no use. She breathes her last breath and in you drop from heaven. When Jane awakens you are her. Same ditzy yet caring personality but with a twist. Now you are unfashionable, super smart and drive a nice car.
Read MoreThe quest for the best story is front and center as we prepare for trial. Data is all good and well. But stories are the way to connect with real people.
These tips from Kurt Vonnegut may not be exhaustive but they ring true. I've simply substituted the word "juror" for "reader".
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It is a beautiful Sunday morning. We enter the freezing West Seattle High School gym. Am wearing poofy big jacket so no problem. Cristina is looking stylish in a vest and begins to turn blue.
Have volunteered to handle the scoreboard and clock. Am going to make Cristina do the hard part. The coordinator gives us directions. The teams are warming up. We are watching them. Not paying attention to the guy. I tell Cristina to listen to what he's saying. We end up splitting the duties in half. I do the score and fouls. She does the clock.
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Several years ago my friend and colleague Morris Rosenberg asked me to work with him to represent Nancy Callan a world class glass artist. She was and is a fun and amazing person. After the case concluded I visited her house/studio and bought a glass sculpture. I also bought an modern architectural painting from her long time partner Julia Ricketts.
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Am feeling like pious good mom. Am going with Noelle to see "Never Say Never" - the Justin Bieber movie. She's seen it once but wants me to see it with her.
We drive to Jimmy Johns. She gets tuna. I get veggie wrapped in a lettuce leaf. They make them both in two minutes flat. I give them a tip. They try to give it back because apparently they aren't allowed to have tips - why not who knows. Noelle sticks the wrapped tasty morsels in her purse. Has to crunch them up a little. Movie theater doesn't like healthy food.
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We really should be going to a political luncheon. One of the high points of AAJ conventions are the big wigs who come to speak. Sometimes they are phenomenal. A couple years ago we had Hilary Clinton, Barak Obama, Joe Biden and Bill Richardson one after the other. But today, we walk out into the sunshine, grab a cab and head towards the Haiti district. It is a bit out of the way and our cabbie offers to come back to get us.
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Thelma (our receptionist) gives me a manilla envelope. She says - after much sleuthing I figured this out. I don't understand. My name is not on the envelope. Black marker simply says "Jo-Hanna Read."
Jo-Hanna is the only person I've ever known whose name is Jo-Hanna. I'm careful to spell it correctly because it is a very special name. Jo-Hanna is a dear friend of mine. A trial lawyer who champions the rights of those who are abused - usually sexually.
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