At the end of his post, Will Connecticut Residents Finally Be Able To Buy Alcohol On Sunday? he lists some arcane (and quite amusing) Connecticut laws. Inspired by his research, I decided to do some of my own.

With the sale of alcohol on Sundays on everyone’s mind in Connecticut these days … well maybe it’s not on everyone’s mind but it’s on enough people’s minds to be the subject of debate … And with the whole restructuring of the Probate Courts taking place as you read this, I offer the following statute:

Chapter 545 Sec. 30-97. Town and probate records not to be kept where liquor is sold.

Town or probate records shall not be kept in any room in which alcoholic liquor is sold, nor in any room from which
there is direct access to a room in which such liquor is sold. Any town clerk or judge of probate violating the
provisions of this section shall be subject to the penalties provided in section 30-113.

(1949 Rev., S. 4298.)

FYI, that law was repealed effective October 1, 2002! I guess someone finally took the time to read that chapter!

My question is, who thinks up these laws? More importantly, why?

On the day in question, I was serving as a court-appointed GAL (Guardian Ad Litem) for the minor child in a paternity case. The alleged father had recently been released from prison and the State was brining a paternity action as a precursor to a child support action.

In such cases, the Assistant Attorney General (AAG, for short) generally asks the mother a series of personal – but necessary – questions that may help to establish paternity. Rather than put the mother on the witness stand, the magistrate allowed the AAG to question her while she (the mother) remained standing at the counsel table. I stood to the mother’s left, facing the magistrate. I was literally standing right in front of him. Well, I was about 5 feet away from the bench, but I was standing directly in his line of vision. The AAG stood to the mother’s right and consulted her notes. The court clerk, a court reporter, and two marshals were facing us from the front left side of the courtroom. The courtroom was packed, quiet and extremely bored.

As you read the following exchange, keep in mind that 1) I was intent on maintaining professional decorum at all costs; 2) I was in full view of a magistrate the entire time and therefore could NOT laugh for any reason; and 3) The clerk, court reporter and both marshals were laughing hysterically almost the entire time. Sound like fun? Read on.

AAG to the mother: Okay, Miss Y, I have to ask you some very personal questions now. Do you understand?

Mother: Yes.

AAG: Okay. Miss Y, did you have intercourse with Mr. X around the time you became pregnant?

Mother: Yes.

AAG: Were you having intercourse with any other man around the time you became pregnant?

Mother: What? No, just him.

AAG: Did you give birth to the child on or about April 1, 2006?

Mother: Yeah, that’s my kid’s birthday.

AAG: So, is it safe to say that you became pregnant sometime around July 1st of 2005?

Mother: No.

AAG: No? Well, did you find out you were pregnant sometime in July or maybe August?

Mother: No, I had the baby on April 1st.

AAG: I understand that. I’m trying to determine when you became pregnant.

Mother: Ok.

AAG: So if you had the baby on April 1, 2006, is it reasonable to say that you would have become pregnant sometime in July of 2005, right?

Mother: No.

AAG: No? Okay, so if you had the baby on … here, look at this calendar …

Mother: Ok, I will.

AAG: Counting backwards … see … April, March, February, January, December, November, October, September, August, July. That’s 9 months, right?

Mother: I guess so.

AAG: You guess so?

Mother: Well, you counted. I was just watching.

AAG: Okay, well, let’s look at the calendar again.

[At this point, the AAG points to each month starting with April and counts out loud backward to July while the mother nods.]

AAG: So you must have gotten pregnant sometime in July then?

Mother: No.

AAG: Okay, well, did you deliver the baby prematurely then?

Mother: No, Ma’am, he was full term. 10 pounds.

AAG: Full term, I see. So then wouldn’t you have become pregnant in July of 2005? 9 months before the baby’s birth?

Mother: No.

AAG: No?

[The AAG is ready to tear her hair out at this point. The rest of the courtroom is listening intently, waiting to see what she’ll ask next. Me included. She removes her reading glasses and looks the mother right in the eye.]

AAG: [Long exasperated sigh]

AAG: Okay, Miss Y. Can you please tell me when you become pregnant?

Mother: Before I had the baby.

Author’s Note: You just can’t make this stuff up!

“My aunt’s brother’s best friend’s dog chased an elderly woman’s car for three blocks and she was in such a panic that she lost control of the car and crashed into a mailbox, running down the mail carrier in the process. He flew over the top of her car and landed on the sidewalk across the street, shattering his right knee and breaking his nose. All the mail in his bag scattered in the wind. Some of the mail blew into the storm drain. Some sleazy guy standing on the curb witnessed the whole accident and saw the perfect opportunity to steal all the social security checks the mail carrier was supposed to deliver. He successfully forged everyone’s signature and cashed the checks over a three-day period. Now those poor retirees are out of a month’s income and the sleazy guy made off with tens of thousands of dollars. He’s probably laying on beach somewhere in the Caribbean with one of those tropical drinks. You know, the ones with the colorful little umbrellas? Okay, so if my aunt’s brother’s best friend’s dog wasn’t on a leash when he chased the elderly woman in the car, is my aunt’s brother’s best friend liable for all those stolen social security checks? Does he have to pay the mail carrier’s medical bills? Is he on the hook for the elderly woman’s car repairs? And who has to pay for those tropical drinks with the colorful little umbrellas?”

I am obviously exaggerating here, in an attempt to make you chuckle. I’m not a stand-up comic – but I do consider myself a stand-up lawyer. Okay, that was the punch line. You can chuckle now. I’ll wait.

Fundamentally – at least on a personal level — most lawyers don’t mind being asked legal questions in social settings. Giving legal opinions is, after all, what we do for a living.

I do feel obliged to say, however, that giving legal advice in a social setting is something we lawyers prefer not to do. Before anyone takes offense, let me explain. There are several valid reasons.

Confidentiality is first and foremost the hallmark of the attorney/client relationship. When a third (or fourth or tenth or hundredth) party is within earshot, the conversation is not private and therefore not considered privileged.

It is inappropriate for a lawyer to give advice to one person to pass on to someone else (as in the tongue-in-cheek example presented in the opening paragraph). The person with the legal problem should seek direct advice from legal counsel, not through a third party.

When a person requests legal advice, he or she must present a set of facts that requires considered analysis on the part of the lawyer. That analysis requires our complete attention and focus. Sometimes, it also requires legal research.

Standing on line in the supermarket with a cart full of groceries and a mental list of items we might have forgotten to buy does not constitute our complete attention or focus. Personally, I’m usually focused on trying to find that stupid card the supermarket gave me that allows me to buy the items in my cart at a reduced cost. (For the record, it’s usually at home, in my other wallet). One of my children is likely texting me incessantly, wanting to know if I’ll be home any time soon — or if he should send out a search party. (I’ve been gone so long, he probably should). The neighbor down the street is hailing me from across the aisle to say that she hasn’t seen me in months and is wondering if my mom will be at bingo this week. (I honestly have no idea). The bagger is inquiring whether I prefer paper or plastic. (I just want my groceries to fit in the trunk between my briefcase and the sports equipment my boys piled in there with the stinky socks). I’m trying to remember where I parked the car. (Or if I actually remembered to take the keys out of the ignition before I locked the car). Suffice it to say my attention is not focused on legal issues at that moment.

On more than one occasion, after listening to the facts being presented to me in such a setting, I offered the person my business card and suggested that we set up a time to speak confidentially at my office. Once, after making one such offer, I actually heard someone say to her companion, “She didn’t even bother to answer my question.” I was at a wedding at the time – serving as a bridesmaid in the wedding party!

When a lawyer hands you a business card and suggests that you meet for a private consultation, please don’t be insulted. We are simply maintaining our professionalism and honoring the integrity of our legal oath. (In my case, I was also trying to listen to the photographer tell me where to stand while he posed us for the wedding party photo).

Honestly, you wouldn’t approach a doctor at a cocktail party and ask her to diagnose that pain your father (who is home in bed) has been having in his left hip. You wouldn’t ask an accountant who is sitting in the front row during his only daughter’s high school graduation ceremony to calculate how much that home office deduction will increase your tax refund (even if you did have the square footage of that home office written on the back of his business card). And you wouldn’t ask a contractor who is attending his son’s championship football game how much the laminated construction beam will add to the cost of your new family room. (it’s not cheap, I know. I’ve been there).

Please … pretty please … don’t be offended when an attorney hands you a business card and suggests that you schedule a private consultation to discuss your legal issues. We’re not trying to dodge your questions. We’re simply trying to give you proper legal advice in an appropriate setting.

Is it me or has SPAM (of the latter variety) conspired to make me insane? Case and point: if I know you and you attempt to send me an e-mail that is legitimate (and that I actually want to read), it will go to my SPAM folder. If I don’t know you at all and you are on a quest to inform me that you have a miracle drug that will enlarge my male organ, well, that will show up in my in-box every time. Given that I am of the female persuasion, I am uncertain how those miracle drugs will benefit me. I’m pretty sure some type of surgical procedure would be required. But I digress.

SPAM filters are supposed to filter out SPAM and allow legitimate e-mail to reach my account, isn’t that correct? Perhaps I was asleep the day the powers-that-be taught that class. Okay, so I do zone out on Friday afternoons. Guess I missed that lecture.

My paranoia is in overdrive so I took it upon myself to try a little experiment. I sent myself normal e-mails from several different e-mail addresses. (You may recall that I stay up late and have to find some way to amuse myself). Although I didn’t bother to record the actual numbers, I discovered that the e-mails I sent to myself overwhelmingly went to that infamous SPAM folder. Conversely, I was inundated with those aforementioned e-mails promising to enlarge my non-existent male organ.

The point of this late night musing is that if you’ve sent me a legitimate e-mail and have not received a timely response, please give me a heads up. Likely, it’s waiting for me in my SPAM folder.