As I sit here — as I have sat here nearly half a day now — trying to decide what to write for what I last year called “The Obligatory End-of-Year Post,” I find myself overwhelmed.
First of all, has it really already been another year?
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As I sit here — as I have sat here nearly half a day now — trying to decide what to write for what I last year called “The Obligatory End-of-Year Post,” I find myself overwhelmed.
First of all, has it really already been another year?
There’s an old story about The Tortoise & The Hare.
This isn’t it.
This is a story about different kinds of attorneys and why I’m not that.
Well, maybe I can say that a little more clearly: this post is about attorneys practicing several different areas of law and why I’ve so far chosen to practice only one, strenuously resisting all temptations — and there have been many — to add another.
The “blawgosphere” — at least the part to which I pay attention — is justifiably a-buzz over a recent closing argument in a DUI case. The title of this post hopefully means you’re not sitting there in suspense over who gave it.
The criminal defense attorney inspiring all the buzz is Jacqueline Goodman Rubio of Fullerton, California.
I am not a religious person. I am not, however, opposed to the lessons of religion. Unlike the majority of Americans, I frequently read the Bible. (JPS version, if you must know, although I’ve read a number of other versions and even studied Koiné Greek for two years so I could translate the so-called “New Testament” for myself. I translated five books before I quit.)
One religious concept which means enough to me that I still think of it daily is tikkun olam which, in Hebrew, means “repairing the world.”
I haven’t done as much writing lately as I should, or as I would like, or as others might like. My readership is, justifiably, dropping because of it.
It’s not that I’ve nothing to say. It’s the cognitive dissonance I’ve been feeling lately over what I might want to say.
You see, what I might want to say is that it’s about time for blood to run in the streets. What I might want to say is that it’s time for a revolution. What I might want to say is that if you work for the government, you are someone the rest of us should consider putting down.
But that’s not really right.
And I haven’t figured out yet how to deal with the fact that I do, actually, think it’s true that we need a revolution, with the fact that people really do get hurt in revolutions, and with the fact that I also don’t think this line of thinking is really right.
The other day, I was in court when a judge I actually like did something that I definitely don’t.
It’s not just a matter of my not liking it, however. It’s part and parcel of why the United States of America no longer exists under its original charter, the United States Constitution.
Lest anyone think this post is a criticism of that judge, it is not. One day, I think it’s even possible that judge will become a fine judge. The judge is just a product of zeitgeist and has not yet thought clear of it.
One of the more difficult things about being a criminal defense lawyer has been learning how to deal with the question of plea agreements. I’m not the only one who has struggled with this question; not even the only lawyer who has.
This article is not intended as some deep discussion of plea bargains. As I write this sentence, I don’t know yet exactly what this article will be about. One of the reasons I think I started blogging years ago was as a natural extension of “journaling” — something I had taken up while trying to navigate the straits between my prolonged adolescence and adulthood. I write to learn.
But the primary “inspiration” for this article was an irritating encounter with a family member of a client.
The Law Office of Rick Horowitz provides criminal defense services
in Fresno, Tulare, Kings, Kern, Madera and Merced Counties.