1 Toe Down And 9 To Go

Copyright (c) 2009 Lucille Uttermohlen

If you read my blog yesterday, you would have seen my rant about the guardian ad litem who was appointed in one of my guardianship cases. I am reminded of one of those incidents that should be embarrasssing, but make you giggle so much when you remember it that it is hard to keep a straight face. If grumpiness was a sign of judicial competence, this man would be on the Supreme Court. Yesterday morning, for instance, I had what I call a "hearing to set a hearing" in his court. Since I live 30 miles away, and would have to hire a driver to get there, and would only have to call my office to consult my calendar, I told opposing counsel I would attend the hearing by telephone. Mr. Judge accepted my call, but he was not happy. "You realize, Miss Uttermohlen, that allowing you to participate by telephone goes against my long standing rule."

I wanted to tell him that I have a few long standing rules of my own. One of them is that you don't hire a driver, buy gas and stand in line for a half hour in court to ask that a hearing be set. The civilized way to accomplish this evil is to file a motion and have the secretaries coordinate the times. If I were judge, I would do it that way. Maybe this guy is a little challenged in the laziness department. I'd offer to give him lessons, but that would take too much energy.

Before his good luck in the election, Mr. Judge was one of us commoners. He has forgotten us little people in his climb to fame, but I remember His Honor when he was a mere attorney. In fact, he used to scrape part of his living from divorce mediations. These are conferences where couples pay their own attorneys as well as an objective third party to decide for them who gets the microwave oven or the 1998 Buick. His honor conducted a mediation in one of my cases, and it was the first, and among the very few such conferences in my career. In short, I'd slept since then, and was only reminded of his honor's participation in the incident in a later divorce case in his court.

HH: Miss Uttermohlen, do you think mediation might help in this case?"

MU: "No sir, I don't. I hate to say it, but I've only hired a mediator once in my career, and it was a waste of money. All the mediator did was blunder back and forth between the two rooms and tell the parties what the other party wanted. We knew that much when we got there, and the mediator didn't help a bit. No, sir, it truly was a waste of time, money and breath."

No mediator was appointed in that particular case. I rose and left the courtroom, and my client admired me for my bravery, and the fact that I had probably saved him $1000.00. I preened myself in the glow of his admiration until I remembered my first, and only mediation, and the fact that I had just informed my first mediator that his participation was worth less than a bucket of spit, and that he had acted with less competence then a trained monkey. As I finished swallowing my size 10 foot in the elevator, it did occur to me that the Chinese custom of foot binding might have served me well just then.