After one of my early jury trials, a juror came up to talk to me. I know this was a long time ago because I have less than zero desire to talk to a juror after a trial now. If we win, they have little real idea why they voted for my client. They will say a reason, but it is unlikely to be why they chose as they did. On the other hand, they sometimes remember evidence that never came in, or in a way that my opponent and I never considered. Jurors after a win are not helpful.
Jurors after a loss are worse. Those that are willing to speak to the lawyers fall into two camps. The first, like the jurors after a win, aren’t particularly helpful. They either didn’t understand the evidence, didn’t hear the evidence, or are trying not to hurt the lawyer’s feelings.
The second group has no interest in the losing side and their feelings. I’ve had jurors tell me that “the only thing we agreed on is that we hated you,” or that “we were never going to give money to your client, it was God’s will that this happened.” Of the two camps, I prefer the second as they are at least honest. Their truth hurts though.
I remember that I had won the case, so I was happy to talk to jurors. This grandmotherly woman only tempered my euphoria a little bit when she said “You will be a pretty good lawyer when you get some grey hair.” In my neck of the woods, we call those left-handed compliments- they are compliments on the surface but with a little bit of stink just below. This lady was well-intentioned and I took her words to mean that she saw promise in my skills, not that I was awful and could only get better. Even as a young lawyer, I knew better than to ask a question if I didn’t know the answer and it was potentially devastating. I thanked her and smiled.
Practicing law, by all accounts, gets easier with experience. I know more about the law now than I did three decades ago and it takes me less time to accomplish a task. That is, if I can remember what it is that I know. When we say that we have forgotten more than some new lawyers know, it is mostly because we forget. A lot. I may not make fewer mistakes but I don’t make the same ones over and over, and there are fewer new mistakes to make these days.
The thought of getting older has been on my mind a lot lately. It only makes sense- the time I save from doing tasks faster and making fewer mistakes leaves more time to ponder existential stuff– death and the like. I caught wind of a recent book by Justine Bateman via an article in Time Magazine. Sometimes the Universe puts up a billboard to get my attention when I have missed the small signs.
Ms. Bateman is an actress about my age. In her profession, your looks are your currency. Sean Connery always looked like James Bond, Joe Pesci never would have. Like all folks my age, Ms. Bateman no longer looks like she did in her twenties. It is fairly common for actors and actresses to “have some work done” as they age to put off looking old. Ms. Bateman refuses to do so.
Instead, she wrote that she: “hated the idea that half the population was perhaps spending the entire second half of their lives ashamed and apologetic that their faces had aged naturally.” She is wise enough to recognize that when her skill and talent are at their peak, some of the superficial crutches she used to need to both get and perform jobs are now unnecessary.
Being male, I know that the aging process doesn’t affect us quite the same way it does women. A man with grey hair looks distinguished which is a compliment rarely paid to women. Even so, I know more than a few men who have had a nip or tuck, or gone to a back alley barber to hide their grey hair. We buy suits that are cut more generously perhaps, or keep our shirts on at the beach lest our dad bods frighten the children. I have literally been tripped over by young folks at a beach as I have become completely invisible to people under 30 unless they share my last name and want money.
Among other things, 2020 altered my perspective on getting older. I am less likely to avoid something that I am too old for, but more likely to listen when my body says I have gone too far. I’m not at the end of the road yet, by a long shot. Though much is taken, much remains and so on. I still enjoy the practice of law and plan to continue for a little longer at least. If anyone knows where that juror is, tell her the grey is plenty but whether I am good yet is debatable.
©2021 under analysis llc. under analysis is a nationally syndicated column. Spencer Farris is the founding partner of The S.E. Farris Law Firm in St Louis, Missouri. If you can tell AARP to knock off the marketing mail, that would be great. Comments or criticisms about this column may be sent directly to Under Analysis via email at farris@farrislaw.net.