Mooning over a breakup?

Maybe it is the moon. We just experienced a big red lunar eclipse - not sure what the technical term is, but I am a lawyer after all, not an astrologer. These events happen about four or five times per century. The next one is to occur in 2033, and I am not sure I will be around. If it is anything like this one, I won't mind missing it. While science can't confirm it, anyone who deals with consumers will tell you that the moon brings out the crazy. After 24 years as a trial lawyer, I always think I have seen as much weirdness as I will ever see. And I am always wrong. Super model eclipse blood moons bring out the craziest. At least they did this week. Ken had been my client for a while now, and I liked him. I still do. I called him a couple of weeks ago to say that our professional relationship needed to end. Not that Ken isn't a good guy - he is. I took on his contract dispute case because his opponent wouldn't respond to our letters requesting that they notify their insurance company. This isn't uncommon. The manager of a company thinks that if they ignore me long enough I will go away. I don't understand the word "no." To be fair, there are a lot of words I don't understand. "No" usually results in a lawsuit. Once papers are filed, the manager calls their insurer and things are resolved. Ken's opponent said "no" and I filed suit. It was then that I learned that things weren't exactly as Ken had told me. Without going into details that would bore you, Gentle Reader, suffice it to say that Ken's case had a few warts and bruises. It was not winnable. At least, not by me. I had Ken into my office to break the bad news - a letter or phone call seemed like poor form for a break up. He listened attentively with his wife as I laid out all the "new" facts I had learned, and why they were bad facts for him. I told Ken that we could accept the nuisance offer the other side had made or he could hire another lawyer and I would step aside, but there was no way that I was going to continue litigation. When his wife chimed in that she could see the problems, I thought I had said enough. Ken called me two days later. It was early and his slurred words coincided with the vodka I thought I smelled on him when he was just in my office. He spent about fifteen minutes telling me why he had a good case; one that was a slam dunk. Even the hardest hearted of jurors would want to help him. No way was he dropping this case, he wanted justice! I listened. I prayed for deafness after a while, but I listened. Then I asked him how long he needed to find another attorney. "I am not getting another attorney. You are my attorney. I want you to handle this." I work for clients on a contingent fee. This means I am risking my time in cases, as well as paying the litigation costs. While insurance companies talk about frivolous lawsuits, at least in my office, frivolous means I am risking my time and money without good grounds. Such a thing is really just gambling. If I want to gamble, I will play poker with friends. I am risk averse. I don't gamble. Because of that, I may try a suit that is a long shot, but never a "no shot." Ken had a no shot if there ever was one. "Ken, I like you, and I understand that you feel wronged. I understand that you want to keep this case going, and I don't blame you. I am just not willing to go on the ride with you. You need another lawyer." Ken repeated all the reasons that he had a good case. I was missing a real chance here, and he wasn't going to get another lawyer. I would thank him later, he told me. "Fine. I will continue as your lawyer, but I am going to need a $25,000 retainer for expenses. Otherwise, I am going to withdraw at the next hearing." After a long silence, Ken told me he would get back to me. So far, he hasn't. Many folks of my age group remember the Seinfeld episode where George Kostanza is trying to break up with a girl, and she refuses to give him up. He asks his friends, "Why am I the only one working at this break up?" His friends, like mine, listened to his pitch, and couldn't understand why George couldn't get single. While there are lots of applicable comparisons between me and George, I finally understood how he felt. I never knew he dated on a contingent fee. Or maybe it was just the moon. Under Analysis is a nationally syndicated column of the Levison Group. Spencer Farris is the founding partner of The S.E. Farris Law Firm in St Louis, Missouri. While he is not an astronomer, he knows a little about crazy moons. Comments or criticisms about this column may be sent c/o this newspaper or directly to the Levison Group via email at farris@farrislaw.net. © 2015 Under Analysis L.L.C. Published: Fri, Oct 02, 2015