Has Alzheimer's Set In?

I got up later than usual on Wednesday. The boss informed me on Tuesday that he would be in court for oral arguments on a motion he succeeded in submitting to the court three weeks ago, and then at a CLE course all morning. What better time to slack off? I decided to sleep more and come to work a bit later.

When I arrived an hour late, Ben was already in the office. He had come in a couple of minutes before me. I learned this from neat freak Juan's associate. When Ben saw me, he said that apparently the court had other business that day, and motion arguments were scheduled for next week.

Not a terrible mistake; it happens to most people once or twice in their lives. For instance, in law school I have attempted to cut classes when none were scheduled, and attempted to attend classes that were cancelled. This was partly due to my not being present when cancellations were announced.

The rest of the day, and week, however, demonstrated that Ben Waterman is slowly becoming senile.

There's a simple rule surrogate courts have in estate cases when there's one distributee: they require an heirship affidavit. It's a simple document saying basically that the person signing it knew the dead person for x amount of time, and the sole distributee is in fact the dead person's closest living relative.

This situation arose in one of our cases. I ask Ben for whom I should write (we say "draft" in lawyer speak--it seems that whenever an allusion to drinking can be made it is) the affidavit. Ben's been doing decedents' estates for three decades, as I mention again and again. After correcting me, it's draft, not write, Ben said he didn't understand why the affidavit was needed. He made me call the court, then he called the court, and still, he could not understand. It took over an hour for something that takes me about 10 minutes to write.

Then there was the estate accounting he's been working on for two years. The executor's getting a bit antsy, and Ben is quickening his pace. The court has rejected his papers in this case several times, each time giving him specific instructions on what to fix. He has tried to get me to do it. Because I have no competence in such matters, I have until now managed to resist.

The court's instructions were pretty clear on some points. For example, expenses prior to death go in schedule D, not C, where Ben had them. So, I look up when the person died, take all the figures from before that date in C and move them to D. Ben is with me on this. Because several amounts were removed from C and added to D, the totals for the two schedules have to be changed. It's not rocket science. Ben does not understand why the totals have to be changed. Dude, we moved $4,000 from C to D. From C's total we have to subtract $4,000, and add $4,000 to D. Ben does not understand. He says, fine, you do the rest. Then he concentrates on getting a mortgage on his house.

Why would a lawyer with 30 plus years under his belt need to mortgage his house? Either he's broke or he's crazy. Want to work super long days for decades and the need to borrow money? Be a lawyer.

Ben's wife doesn't seem to work, his kids, part of my slacker generation, only call him to ask for money, he's got a maid, and travels to Europe when the dollar's worth shit. Meanwhile, he's trying to save a few bucks a month by downgrading his cell phone plan. This is a person who sells advice for a living. I feel sorry for him.

My at work vacation is over

The boss is back from Europe. Perhaps I haven't been around lawyers long enough,* but am I wrong in thinking it's a bit strange for someone to go straight to work after an eight hour flight? Ben Waterman is that type of guy, a lawyer. His plane landed some time around 12 PM, and at 2:40 he walked into the suite, luggage in hand, just in time to receive a fax from the American Clerical Service that certain court papers he filed were rejected. He also interrupted my conversation with Juan, who was railing against the socialists in Spain who pay people $300 a month for housing. (Oh what horror!)**

I had hoped for a final day of peace.

Wouldn't the old fool need to rest a bit, perhaps readjust to NY time? Why was Ben carrying his luggage? Didn't he take the trip with his wife? He didn't even take her home and drop off his own things? Why didn't his wife take his stuff?

Am I just thinking from a normal person's perspective? Maybe the office is Ben's home, and his suite mates are his family. His wife lives in the house, and he visits on weekends. Maybe that is work for him.


* This can only be a good thing. Being in contact with lawyers comes in two ways: Either you're in trouble and need a lawyer, or you are a lawyer or work for one. Neither is a good prospect. What about having lawyer friends or family members? you ask. Well, you wouldn't be much in contact with them, for lawyers don't have friends that aren't lawyers, and family members rarely see them.

** If there's a way to obtain Spanish citizenship or citizenship in a European Union state, please let me know, because I'd love to move to Spain.

What is a lawyer?

During my interview with Ben, he said that he favors the havenots of the world, and practices law only to travel. From what I've seen, however, all his out of work activities involve the practice of law. For example, when he goes to lunch, it is either with some other lawyer or to some law school lecture. He's on several Bar committees, and participates in some sort of Bar theater project, which produces plays starring lawyers. Ben usually plays the part of a lawyer. The only acting that takes place, I imagine, is that Ben appears competent. He's also a member of a book club, another bar group. I don't know how often he comes home, but I don't think he even recognizes his wife's voice. She calls him sometimes, saying, "Hi Ben, this is your wife, Veronica." I wonder, would he know it's her if she didn't say it was?

Ben does like to travel--to far off, remote places of the world. On his bookshelves there are pictures of him with his family in various settings--some sort of jungle, desert, huge mountains, etc. My interest in the pictures, besides a juvenile circus sideshow fascination with ugliness, is how the photographs are composed. Ben and his family crouch or stand in front of an assembly of the region's indigenous people slightly in the background, wearing traditional or tribal garb, or nothing at all. It's as though Ben's at the zoo or the Natural Museum of History, with these people behind as an exhibit.

I don't know if these people are haves or havenots, if they're paid to pose or do so willingly, but it's extremely insulting. The worst part, for me anyway, is that Ben's probably not even aware of it. That is, if the pose were done on purpose, with Ben trying to show that he and his family are better than the natives, that the natives are just background scenery on his glorious adventure, it would certainly be offensive but not that bad. It would say Ben's audacious and full of himself. Hiring a photographer to go on trips with him would add a touch of class.

My problem is that Ben is completely oblivious to it. His denigration of these people is entirely by accident. An educated person with absolutely no sense of decency. That is a lawyer. People hate lawyers, a known fact. This is part of the reason. While being a blood-sucking leech has something to do with it, it's the indifference, the sheer obliviousness of doing something terrible that really makes one abhor lawyers. Here is another trait of the ugly American. No coincidence, I think, that the US is the most litigious country.

And the havenots? I've already mentioned the Ramierezes. Other examples and complaints to follow soon.

What are the uses of KY Jelly?

With the frowzy boss away in Europe, I sit behind his messy desk. On top and all around it are documents. I've been through this before, so I won't describe it again. From this perspective, however, I can see under some of the crap on his desk. One object not visible before is a container of KY Jelly. First incredulity and then disgust fills my mind. Is this why Ben's going to the bathroom all the time? And those client files he's always taking with him, is that what they are?

I always thought Ben's old age was responsible for his frequent restroom trips. Now I'm not so sure. Men do have their needs, I suppose, and as Ben pretty much lives in the office, maybe it's understandable.

But maybe I'm rushing to judgment. What, besides the obvious, are the other uses of KY?

Lip gloss, shaving treatment, massage oil, hair gel, puffy eye treatment?

His lips are never shiny, I don't see any razors, I doubt he gives himself massages except the one that brought my original disgust, his hair is never gelled and I don't see a comb, so maybe it's puffy eye treatment, although there's no freezer to stick the KY in.

Any other uses?

For the record, I'm not eavesdropping on my boss. I'm allowed, and encouraged to sit at his desk, and I don't go through the shelves.

I started washing my hands after leaving the office.

Waterman the idiot

The boss has left for Europe, to be with his wife's family and to send me imbecilic emails throughout the day and night. He's only been there since Saturday and already there are problems.

He attempted to file an accounting of an estate. As I mentioned in an earlier post, he's been doing estate stuff since the 1970s. But after all this time, does he know how to do an accounting? Nope. Apparently I have to fix it tomorrow because the court rejected it. Things are in the wrong place, e.g. in Schedule B instead of Schedule D, and some stuff isn't in there at all. I have to put it in, but don't know where to look in his ocean of documents covering the floor.

How is it that after over 30 years he doesn't know anything in the field that is his specialty? He's got a fracking LLM in it. NYU must be a really crappy law school, because he knows squat.

Juan the compulsive cleaner has also ventured into estates with Ben Waterman's success. Last week the court rejected his petition for "a voluntary administration." Even I know there's no such thing. There are voluntary accountings and there are applications for letters of administration. It seems Juan has not learned that following Ben's advice is not a good way to go.

The funny thing, not from the client's perspective, is that Ben makes more money off his mistakes than he would if he did it right the first time. Everything takes him three times as long to do because he's always messing up.

If you care at all about those who will inherit your property, avoid lawyers at all costs. Set up transfer on death accounts and trusts whenever possible.

Office Intercom

There's a fancy, though somehow deffective phone on my desk at the office. Yesterday, Ben discovered that all the phones in the suite are connected by an intercom system.

And so it began--

My phone started making noises and I jumped. Then Ben's voice was there, right next to me. With panic I looked over my shoulder. Ben was in his office, fiddling with his phone. What the hell?

He said my name again. "Are you there?"

Who the frack is talking to me? "Yes? Ben?"

"Yeah. Did you know we [garbled, indecipherable speech]."

"Excuse me?"

"We have [garbled, indecipherable speech]."

"What?"

"We have an intercom!" Ben shouted from his office.

"Oh."

"[More garbled sounds from the phone.]"

"What?"

Ben shouts from his office, "I have a bill from the messenger service for a hand delivery to Park Avenue. Do you remember what that was about?"

"Um, I think that's from the Smith case."

"Don't [garbled noise.]"

"You don't have to shout, use the intercom!" Ben shouted.

"It's the Smith case. Copies of documents for their new lawyer," I said sceptically at the phone.

"Wha--"

"Smith case. Documents for new lawyer."

"[Static]"

I get up from my chair, take ten steps to Ben's door. "Smith case. Documents for new lawyer."

"Oh, right. Thank you."

Five minutes later, my phone beeps again. And so it went, all morning until Ben's luncheon, when I could finally do my work in peace.