So, here we were gathered last Thursday evening for an airing of “The Law Firm,” David E. Kelley’s new reality program showcasing the emerging talents of burgeoning trial lawyers. The format of the show is a legal version of “The Apprentice.” Each episode, Roy Black, the managing partner of “The Law Firm” fires two of the lawyers.
Now, I had one daughter visiting, another hooked up by phone and, of course, my wife. This was occasioned by my appearance as a judge in one of the segments. The cases were outlined and my older daughter seemed relieved to learn that the segment about the dominatrix was not mine. My wife seemed to be dozing off, oblivious. Younger daughter would call back after the show. My segment revolved around an allegation of defamation and “false light” flowing from a prank gone wrong.
A man created a wanted poster depicting his friend as a wanted terrorist and displayed it in a public convenience store above the cash register. Interstate travelers, unfamiliar with local humor, frequented the store. This poster depicted the plaintiff as a “rural redneck” holding up a can of beer in field of corn. In large lettering at the top of the poster was something to the effect: “Terrorist-Wanted-May Be Armed and Dangerous.” The name ascribed to the plaintiff began with something like “Muhammad Abdul.” In much smaller type were allusions to finding the “terrorist” loitering by the coffee machine. An acronym consisting of the letters “EAT ME” was included. The poster was supposed to be humorous though clearly the plaintiff did not think so.
Almost immediately, I was being pumped for a spoiler.
“So, just tell me how you ruled,” piped my daughter (subtext: just tell me how you ruled so I can go find something to watch on HBO).
“Not telling,” I said.
“Oh really?” she replied. “Well, I would be surprised if you rule in the plaintiff’s favor-this is so clearly intended as a joke.”
Then I was treated to a commercial break diatribe on freedom of speech and that old chestnut:-political correctness run amok. Let’s put it this way, my family is full of donkeys and elephants.
Now, I should say that the focus of the show is the lawyering. Advocates are divided into teams and present their cases to arbitrators and judges. As in real life, a case can be shaded by strategy of the attorneys. And frankly, the plaintiff’s team was out lawyering the defendant’s by far. I could see my daughter squirming as she tried to reargue the defendant’s case to me during the breaks. The plaintiff’s attorneys asked the right questions, had the right demeanor and presented lucid arguments. Still, she looked hopeful. After all, the poster had “Eat Me” with corresponding snippets about loitering by the coffee machine and featured a fairly goofy looking photo. To her, this was a slam-dunk. However I ruled though, I was certain my reasoning would be clear. The plaintiff’s attorneys had effectively argued that a post-9/11 world required a heightened sensitivity.
The moment of decision arrived. I could hear my voice blaring on the TV and was stupefied. There I was blasting the defense. My voice angry and neck muscles tense. A 10-second sound bite of melodramatic fury. I’m sure my kids had flashbacks to some of my responses to their childhood antics – like taking the car out for a spin at 2 a.m. without a driver’s license (younger daughter), hiding boy in closet as parents come home too early from evening out (older daughter), sneaking out to concert (both); trust me, it’s a much longer list.
What stupefied me, however, was that my considered judgment had been left on the cutting room floor. The nuanced decision alluding to the horrors of falsely accusing innocent people of being members of the Communist Party in the ’40s and ’50s and the concomitant destruction of their families was lost. The suggestion that strangers would not take the time to read the entire poster to see that it was a joke was lost.
The admonition that using names such as Muhammad Abdul in the context of an alleged “terrorist” before perfect strangers in these tense post-9/11 times in a rural community foster intolerance, was likewise excised by the pithy editor. I should have known better.
As for my family… “Mmmmm,” older lawyer daughter started in, “maybe they’ll be talking about this on ‘John and Ken’ tomorrow, not good.” Daughter number two, “I agree, but you were yelling!”
I turned to my supportive wife for consolation and was greeted by her gentle snores.
Folks, I am terrorized, as I will be appearing in the final episode, a victim no doubt, of the brutal cut of the editor. And my friend Roy Black owes me big time!