Law School Dad

I'm in a petty mood today, so time to moan about one of the annoying trivialities of life at Cardozo: Holding doors open for people. Frankly, I'm sick of it. (Disclaimer: This is by no means an attack on the noble profession of Doormanship, so ably practiced by thousands of Door Men and Women (New York's Politest?) in apartment buildings across this great city. At the very least, these fellows get paid for opening doors.) First, some background. The law school is situated over 11 floors of an office building. There are only three slow-moving, breakdown-prone elevators for the thousand-plus students, faculty and administrative staff who traverse the campus daily, so invariably people are forced to use the internal stairways to get anywhere. This means opening a door when you enter the stairwell and opening another when you exit. Then there's classroom doors, bathroom doors, locker room doors, PC and study room doors in the library, and doors leading directly to the Fiery Depths of Hell. (I made that last one up.) With so many doors and so many people trying to go through them, it occurred to me that a huge amount of productivity must be lost due to folks needlessly holding doors ajar for others perfectly capable of accomplishing the task themselves. Precious study time is expended as one tries to calculate whether the person two or three steps behind is close enough to be worthy of door propping. Stress and anxiety levels rise as students entering stairwells crowded with people try to gauge the politically correct distance at which they can insert themselves into the flow without raising the ire of their fellow travelers. While a one time door prop may cost just a few seconds of the holder's time, the accumulated time wasted over the course of a semester must be staggering*. My solution is simple. I propose a new rule banning the holding of doors. Entirely. That way, there are no misunderstandings, no grey areas of "should I / shouldn't I". Everyone is free to move at their own pace without having to constantly consider whether their door management skills are meeting the expectations of the courtesy-sensitive in their vicinity. Some here might argue that this just a curmudgeonly attack on one of the last remaining symbols of civility in our increasingly uncaring, self-centered society. I would remind such reactionaries that you checked your civility genes in at the door (another door!) the day you started law school. -LSD 

When it's really cold, we say "It feels like Siberia in here." I wonder what people in Siberia say under similar circumstances. Possibly, "It feels like Vostock in here." (A record low temperature of -89.2°C (-128.6°F) was registered at Vostok, Antarctica, on July 21, 1983).

But this leads me to two further observations. Firstly, if it's so cold on a particular day in Siberia that someone feels the need to comment publicly, presumably any attempt to actually do so would fail due to the sound waves freezing and dropping to your feet like icicles.

And secondly, all that does is make me wonder what someone in Vostock would say (or rather, think, with whaterever part of their frostbitten brain still functioning) on a really cold day (aka July 21, 1983) ...

As you can see, law school is making my mind sharp like a razor.

-LSD

YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

After 32 years scarred by near misses, injustices and countless heartbreaks, Australia are going to the World Cup.

Repeat: AUSTRALIA ARE GOING TO THE WORLD CUP.

http://www.footballaustralia.com.au/public/article/show.asp?articleid=9742&menuItemID=

-LSD

Wanna know how to spread instantaneous fear and panic among first year law students? Burst into the student lounge and yell "Our grades have been posted! Our grades have been posted!"

For the record, I got a B+ in Elements of Law. This is good, because anything less and I have to start lying to my wife, Sacrificer-in-Chief for this entire endeavour.

-LSD

Over the weekend, I had the privilege of listening to a lecture by Rabbi Dov Linzer, Rosh Yeshiva of the Chovevei Torah Rabbinical School in Manhattan. His theme was "Orthodoxy and Orthopraxy*", and appropriately he started his talk with this wonderful quip: An itinerant rabbi was visiting the local community and was invited to address the congregation from the pulpit. Before commencing, he was warned by the in-house rabbi: "Make sure you speak loudly, the agnostics in here are very bad."

From cutesy anecdotes to petty misfortunes...

Last night came home to a kitchen drain so exquisitely clogged that it spat back an entire bottle of Draino at us without so much as a gurgle.

Probably last week's chollent remnants wedged down there. Shudder at what it must be doing to my arteries.

-LSD

I've had complaints (alright, a single offhand observation by my mate Scooter, but I like to imagine there's a large and enthralled readership out there) that I don't mention my kids much on these pages. That's because I assume that things I may find cute about my kids are a bore to the general public. But I'm willing to test the presumption, so here's a little vignette:

My 2-year old Abie has a habit of running words into each other. So when his sister tells him to do something, rather than answering "OK, Kayla", he responds "Okayla."

For example:

Kayla: "Abie, let's decorate the freshly painted walls with our markers."
Abie: "Okay-la."

Okayla, that'll do. Barring a flood of requests for more delightful anecdotes about the Goldberger tykes (by "flood" I'll settle for two), back to normal programming.

-LSD

It's a little disconcerting really, the number of legal practitioners I meet who openly curse the day they first set foot in law school. Later, remembering they're talking to a freshly minted law student, with hopes, aspirations, and truckload of debt committed to the very path they long ago traveled and are now busy eschewing, they look at me in wonder and ask: "Are you sure this is what you want to be doing?"

Generally I just respond with a noncommittal chuckle, but what I'd really like to reply with is: "Of course I'm bloody well not sure! You're talking to a guy who's on his fourth career at age 35! Hardly the poster child for decisiveness, am I?"

I gave my friend Joe a ride to the bus stop this morning. He wearily informed me that he hadn't been home before 1am a single night this week, trying to finalize an appellate brief that's clearly anything but. He also explained that not seeing his kids was not an issue, as, newly emboldened by the return of Eastern Standard Time, they are only too happy to wake him at 5.30am for some spirited cavorting. I attempted to sympathize by proposing that no doubt his missus wasn't rushing to volunteer for dawn duty, but by then poor Joe had nodded off.

-LSD

Today the first year class has its initial meeting with the Office of Career Services. This is where we are officially informed of what most of us already know but are too polite to admit out loud: for the upper 10% of the class, top NYC law firms will be banging down your doors with offers of six-figure starting salaries, full reimbursement of bar review courses, and annual bonuses .

The remaining 90% of us will face a starker reality: either go out there and scrap for jobs at small and midsize firms along with the other 15,000 law school graduates churned out by NY area schools each year, or take a rewarding "public interest" position with a city agency (read: defend indigent drug dealers, rapists and pedophiles) for the princely salary of $34,000 a year. On that income, we'll be assured, you'll comfortably finish paying off your student loans by, oh say, ... NEVER. BWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!