Those following this space have noticed the steady exit of my writing companions from under analysis and their retelling (if not re-imagining) of the group’s history. I have only been part of the group for 18 years and I am not done writing here just yet. Apologies where they are due.
The group’s farewell tour has been understated to say the least- our merch is not selling well. We did kill at the Assisted Living for Attorneys Home in Dubuque. That is an overstatement as no one actually died, but Charlie did knock someone’s drink off their walker.
Since my writing mates shared their recollections of the group, I feel obligated to do so as well. This dawned on me last week when I was pressure washing and painting a deck. For those who have never used a pressure washer, I highly recommend it. It gives an unexpected feeling of gratification to watch years of neglect and dirt disappear. I wish there were a device to do that to my waistline or old friendships, but perhaps without the Midwest summer heat I experienced.
As a young lawyer, I was hungry for the law. The passion I had as a 1L, arguing loudly in public spaces about Blackacre had faded to a more manageable level of crazy when I passed the Bar exam but was still embarrassing to friends and family. In those days, the local daily legal newspaper was the first thing I would grab with my morning coffee and read it front to almost back- the last section was full of public notices and courthouse sales in which I couldn’t even feign interest.
under analysis was known as The Levison Group locally back then, long before the demise of the Levison Towers. The group’s columns ran weekly and, along with James McElhaney in the ABA journal, they became my go-to legal brain snacks. It was obviously a long time ago as McElhaney stopped his column in 2011 and I quit the ABA around the same time.
The Levison Group column that has stuck with me all these years was written by Mr. Kramer and was about painting, of all things. His conclusion was that nonpainters should leave painting to the professionals just like non lawyers should leave the law to lawyers. I clearly didn’t heed this advice out painting my deck, but at least I remembered it.
When I first joined the group, besides being the youngest writer (at the time), I took chances on the page. In fact, we likely lost our contract with some legal papers in Utah over one of my more risky and perhaps risqué columns. The other guys often found my columns funny. At least, they were kind enough to say so. Since they were virtually devoid of substance, funny was all I had to offer. I cringe a bit looking over some of my early offerings while I searched for my writing style and voice. Some would say the search continues. Others would say the search should be abandoned.
Now that our writing group is splitting up, I think some behind the scenes stories are due. I never really liked my writing companions. When we gathered around the big oaken table to cross edit each other’s work, fights were common. We couldn’t even agree on snacks for our gatherings- they wanted white wine spritzers, I wanted Diet Fresca. They preferred a charcuterie plate and I was happy with a bag of Fritos.
Some may remember the women who wrote for the group. Their stints were brief but we enjoyed the points of view they shared. One quit practicing law the week before she interviewed with and joined the group but didn’t tell us for several months. That level of nondisclosure has only been rivaled once in my legal career, by the lawyer/business coach I hired who didn’t tell me he had been disbarred. I was less offended by the former than the latter.
Mark and I had the least in common. He has worked for many of the better law firms in our town and I, well, haven’t. Like his clients, I have no idea what he does. He wrote frequently about travels to places I couldn’t find on a map. I distinctly remember him cutting a vacation short to get back in time to start his next vacation. When giving me notes on my columns, Mark’s most frequent redlines were “this doesn’t make sense,” or “this isn’t even a sentence.”
Charles looked and acted like a writer. He smoked cigars into the wee hours with debutantes and miscreants and had a ready laugh. I have never been completely sure if his disheveled hipster look is consciously created or organic. If a writer’s job is to think outside the box, Charlie succeeded because he had no idea what a box was.
Kidding aside, it has been an honor to be a part of under analysis and to get to know the other guys. They are great story tellers and creative in their approaches. It is great to get letters and emails from you, Gentle Readers. I will still be found in these pages albeit without the under analysis crew and name- the group’s lawyers have already been clear about that with me. I am also working on a novel but will probably finish reading it this week and return it to the library. Stay tuned.
©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. Thanks for reading! Comments or criticisms about this column may be sent directly to Under Analysis via email at farris@farrislaw.net.