Every day, parents fight it out with each other in courtrooms all over the country. Often, one person is claiming that the other person is a “bad” parent. The list of reasons varies, of course, but the belief that the other parent is “bad” doesn’t waver. I hear all sorts of allegations: “He doesn’t put them to bed until 10:00 on a school night when he has them” or “She actually bought our 16-year-old a cell phone for his birthday” or “When he’s with his father, he’s allowed to drink soda” or “My ex-wife signed our son up for piano lessons instead of Little League.” The aforementioned are apparently considered parenting faux pas by the opposing parties and to them, automatically define the other as a “bad” parent.

Basically, most people believe they can agree on a list of things that make someone a “good” parent. Similarly, most people believe they can agree on what makes someone a “bad” parent. Notice that in each instance, I used the phrase “believe they can agree” rather than “can agree”. Why? Thanks for asking. I did some informal field research and here’s what I found out:

To some people, a “good” parent is kind, loving and understanding. To others, it’s one thing to be loving and kind but “it’s not a parent’s job to be the child’s friend.” Some people told me that a “good” parent teaches a child lessons gently and with constant regard for the child’s self-esteem. Others poo-pooed that method saying that children who learn hard lessons never forget them and that the whole “making nice” parenting style is a lot of hoo ha. (These are very technical terms).

One man told me that to be a good parent to a son, a father has to teach him not to be a sissy. When I asked him to elaborate, he said that he better not ever find one of his boys crying or he’d “give him something to cry about.” Ouch!

I expected fathers to be tougher on their sons and easier on their daughters. Pardon the stereotype, but I was thinking about that whole “Daddy’s little girl” thing. I was surprised to hear some fathers tell me that their sons would learn to be men through sports and the military but that they had to be tough on their daughters so they wouldn’t grow up to be “tramps” or “sappy bimbos” (that was an actual response, I kid you not).

By the time I had worked my way through the fathers in my little poll, I dared not have any stereotypical expectations of mothers. Whew, was I glad I didn’t. One mother told me that she fully expected her son to be a strong man who didn’t display any signs of weakness. To accomplish that task, she explained that if he cried like a baby (the kid was 6), she would send him to his room and let him think about how he had just embarrassed himself.

Another mother told me she was afraid her daughter was too smart and so she would have difficulty finding a husband. (Is this 2010???) To combat that problem, she encouraged her daughter to steer clear of the debate club and the student government.

If I were list a series of traits and ask you if they made for a “good” parent or a “bad” parent, I’m rather sure that I would receive varied responses. Let’s test that theory:

“Good” Parent or “Bad” Parent?

1) Spanks a child when he or she has done something wrong.

2) Never spanks a child, no matter how bad the offense.

3) Is never critical of a child for fear of damaging his or her self-esteem.

4) Always points out when a child has made a mistake in order to teach the child to recognize mistakes so as not to repeat them.

5) Pays a child an allowance to do weekly household chores in order to teach the child the value of hard work and earning one’s own living.

6) Expects a child to perform weekly household chores without receiving financial compensation because the child has to learn that all members of the family must contribute to making the household run.

Okay, you get the idea.

I’m reasonably sure we can all agree that a “good” parent would never torture a child or force a child to commit sexual acts. I’m even pretty darn sure that we can all agree that a “bad” parent would not think twice about doing such things.

Every day, courts are asked to make determinations about custody and visitation. In effect, they are asked to decide if mothers and fathers are “good” parents or “bad” parents. Judges listen to the most amazing arguments. Sometimes, I’m surprised they don’t laugh right out loud. Other times, I’m shocked they don’t break down and cry.

It doesn’t seem possible that I first posted here on Attorney O’s Midnight Musings one year ago today. I don’t know whether to refer to this as a birthday or an anniversary. Either way, 365 days have passed since I first hit “publish” and launched into the world of blogging.

I want to thank everyone who has ever taken the time to read my posts. It’s nice to know that I’m not all alone here in cyberland. Thank you to those who have posted comments and to those who have sent me e-mails with words of encouragement. It all means a lot to me.

As I reflect on this last year as a new blogger, it occurs to me that I have really enjoyed this time. Some of my colleagues who don’t yet blog often ask why I bother to “waste” my free time blogging instead of relaxing. While my replies vary, I usually tell them that I blog because I enjoy it and because I learn things while blogging that I might not otherwise have learned. In my book, that’s not a waste of my time.

For me, the act of blogging is a lot like taking a road trip on a small town back road instead of the interstate. Instead of barreling down the highway, I take time to look at the view. Those small towns are chock full of quaint little shops, unusual architecture and old cemeteries. It’s on those rural routes that you come upon that special diner that “the locals” frequent (the ones with the apple pie that’s out of this world). It’s where you happen upon the old general stores that still sell “penny candy” and Necco Wafers. It’s on those same back roads that you come upon “the locals” who are all too willing to regale you with stories about the history of their town. It’s always a journey worth taking.

While blogging, I meander through the back roads of the world wide web, stopping to discover websites that have been around for years and others that are just getting off the ground. I’ve happened upon blogs that have already attracted a strong loyal following and plenty of brand new entries to the blogisphere. I’ve stumbled upon some rather unusual finds on the internet that I would likely not have found had I not undertaken the authoring of this blog. I also watch a lot less television these days!

I’d love to post every night but the reality of my life doesn’t always allow me to do so. Sometimes, after a particularly long and difficult day practicing law, I’m just too tired to come home and string words together in a coherent fashion. Other nights, I’m just too busy with my life to post at all. Sometimes, I just don’t have anything to say. So while I don’t post every night, this blog remains important to me and I hope you’ll keep coming back.

It is my sincere hope that everyone who stops by Attorney O’s Midnight Musings will find that the trip was worth the ride. If you chuckle here and there, or learn something you didn’t know before you landed in my little corner of Cyber Town, that will make me a happy little blogger.

Here’s to another year of blogging and discovery!

As part of my law practice, I serve as court-appointed conservator of the estate for several people. Most of my conserved persons suffer from mental illnesses and have difficulty managing their own finances. That’s where I come in. I serve as their representative/payee for purposes of Social Security benefits and State cash assistance stipends. I pay their monthly bills and create budgets that allow me to give them money for personal expenses each week. It’s mostly a frustrating and thankless job but it needs to be done.

Here’s where my “balancing the budget” idea comes in. Virtually every one of my conserved persons receives assistance from the State of Connecticut. That assistance comes in the form of medical benefits, food stamps, cash supplements and payment of their Medicare Part B premiums. All of those programs are income-based. Each year, after an initial application for assistance is submitted to the Department of Social Services (DSS), the applicant must complete a redetermination form. For each person, I will receive notification by mail that the redetermination form is due. This usually occurs at least twice per year. The redetermination form is something like 9 pages long.

For each applicant, I am required to provide supplemental documentation. Most of the time, the applicant’s sole income is a monthly Social Security check. Those amounts don’t change during the year (unless the person works or has somehow been overpaid, which is the exception rather than the rule in the population I serve). If a person receives Social Security Disability Insurance (SSDI) or Supplemental Security Income (SSI) and we all know that the Social Security Administration only adjusts the amount of the benefits on an annual basis, why am I forced to provide documentation of that benefit every 6 months? Work with me here. I mail or fax the documentation to a very tired and severely overworked DSS employee who is forced to spend hours wading through mountains of paper that basically tells him or her nothing new. Part one of my plan to balance the budget is to eliminate the multiple redeterminations. Think of the savings realized right there.

It gets better, I promise.

Once a redetermination has been completed by the DSS worker, the computer spits out a ton of documents to tell me what benefits the applicant will receive. I will receive one envelope containing the notice about medical benefits. The envelope will also contain a 2-page notice of how to appeal the decision. I will receive a second envelope for the same applicant containing another page or 2 about the food stamp benefit. That envelope will also contain a 2-page notice of how to appeal the decision. In yet another envelope for the same applicant, I will receive a form letter telling me that I am required to notify DSS if the applicant’s income changes or if some other noted change occurs. Often, there’s a fourth envelope containing a notice that the case worker has changed. (The latter occurs so often, I can’t keep track any more).

Okay, do the math. What is the total cost of the paper, toner cartridges required to print the notices and the postage required to send that many envelopes to my office about ONE person? Oh, I almost forgot to mention that the applicant also receives a duplicate of every notice I receive. Remember to multiply the total by 2. Whew, that’s a staggering number.

Now multiply that amount by the thousands of DSS clients (which is always increasing, thanks to our wonderful economy). How much do you suppose that adds up to? Don’t forget that this process happens at least twice a year for each DSS client. Do you have enough digits on your calculator for all those zeros?

If the State would eliminate all of the wasted funds allocated to useless notices and gazillions of wasted envelopes for just one agency, how much do you suppose it would save each year? Enough to put a dent in the budget, I’d imagine. If the State took a hard look at its wasteful practices in every one of its agencies and departments, we might just end up with a balanced budget every year.

We all know that governments don’t exactly run efficiently. Red tape is expensive, after all.

In desperation, I turned to the amazing librarian at my alma mater who reminded me that Google Scholar recently added case law to its library of research materials. I recall having heard the news a while back but it hadn’t occurred to me to search there tonight. I owe that librarian an expensive dinner!

I hung up the phone and headed straight for Google Scholar. Within seconds — literally — I had the appropriate cases up on my screen. Not long after, I was able to draft my legal memorandum.

Mission accomplished.

If you haven’t explored Google Scholar (which is still in Beta), point your browser in that direction and give it a test drive. After entering a search term, you choose from articles (to which you have the option of including patents) or legal opinions and journals.

I was impressed with the wealth of information already collected on Google Scholar. I humbly thank the creators of that wonderful search tool for the time and effort they saved me tonight.

I also tip my hat to law librarians everywhere.

I’m a huge John Grisham fan and have been since I read his first novel, “A Time to Kill.” Grisham practiced law in a small Mississippi firm before joining the ranks of legal novelists. The inspiration for the book came from testimony he overheard in an actual court case.

Scott Turow has penned some pretty terrific novels himself, including my favorite, “Presumed Innocent”. Turow still practices law in Chicago. I wonder where he finds time to go to court in between thinking up those story lines.

I dabble in writing fiction, although to date, I’ve not yet attempted a legal thriller. I practice Family and Probate Law. People don’t usually kill each other or embezzle millions of dollars in the cases I handle, so there isn’t really any legal thriller in the making there. There’s never been a smoking gun, either. Although, I must confess that I’ve witnessed my share of interesting real life drama as a divorce attorney.

I’m thinking that some of the court episodes I’ve been privy to would make for a decent novel. I posted a while back on a rather humorous experience I had while serving as a guardian ad litem in a paternity case. Perhaps I should consider writing comedic legal novels. There’s a concept for you. I certainly have a lot of amusing anecdotes to share.

I suppose I could pen a novel staged in a Probate Court. We’re embroiled in a heated battle over a contested decedent’s estate and the protagonist ends up being the son that the decedent gave up for adoption when she was 15. Turns out he’s been hiding for 22 years in the Witness Protection Program and he only risked surfacing because the decedent was the heiress to the Google fortune. It could be a real page turner.

Work with me here. How about a novel set in Family Court? The husband in the divorce is a serial killer and the wife has just begun to suspect it. The judge appoints a GAL for the 5 children and she goes missing after her first meeting alone with the husband. The wife knows something is up but she’s afraid to tell her lawyer. It turns out her lawyer is actually an ex-con who earned his law degree online while in prison for murder. He relates to the husband in a perverse sort of way. That makes the wife a tad nervous. She tries to fire the lawyer and suddenly, she goes missing. Is he working in tandem with the husband? You’ll find out on page 527. I’m pretty sure I could sell a few million copies of that one.

Of course, if I become a famous legal novelist, I won’t have time to actually practice law. I’ll be too busy flying around the country for my book tours. Oprah and Ellen will be competing for an interview. Perhaps I’ll pull a quick stint on David Letterman.

Don’t forget those magazine interviews. I wonder how I’ll look on the cover of Time. Yes, I’ll have to endure those ridiculous articles in the tabloids: “Novelist Attorney O Gives Birth to Alien Triplets While Vacationing On Mars.” “Thawed Out After Two Thousand Years, Famous Author Attorney O is Actually a Neanderthal.” “Famed Writer Attorney O Had Love Affair with JFK.”

Maybe I’ll just forget about all that excitement and focus on practicing law. Does anyone need a good divorce lawyer?

I happened to be listening to an NPR broadcast the other day and the topic dealt with ‘future’ technological advances that had been forecast decades ago. The discussion of the cell phone piqued my interest.

According to Matt Novak, author of the Paleofuture blog, the February 20, 1910 edition of the Washington Post ran a story predicting the first wireless telephone. It was thought that the wireless device would attach to one’s umbrella. Watch out for those thunder storms!

I am thrilled to pieces that my cell phone isn’t somehow connected to my umbrella. If you’ve been to a courthouse lately, you’re well aware that the marshals confiscate your umbrella when you arrive at the metal detector and don’t return it to you until you depart. That is, if you haven’t lost your claim check ticket by that time. (In case you were wondering, an umbrella could be used as a weapon). Imagine being stuck in a courthouse hallway for hours without your trusty cell phone! Yikes. I shudder at the thought. How would you Twitter? Okay, I’m sorry to have frightened you that way. Take a deep breath. It’s just a story.

Cell phones have done wonders for civilization – and for the practice of law. Lawyers are able to connect with their clients no matter where they are. They can discuss legal matters while driving through rush hour traffic. They can negotiate with opposing counsel while sitting on a beach. They can read your e-mail (via their cell phones) while they are waiting for their kids to finish soccer practice. They can even respond to your text messages while they drive. I’m joking, of course, as evidenced by my earlier post on the evils of texting and driving.

In all seriousness, cell phones have made it easier for lawyers and their clients to stay in touch. It’s a double-edge sword, though. When I first started practicing law, I gave my cell phone number to all of my clients. That was a huge mistake. I received calls at all hours of the night, on weekends and holidays, and yes, even while on a well-publicized vacation. There’s something to be said about being able to leave your work at the office. As a consequence of those unfortunate experiences, I no longer give out my cell phone number.

Fortunately, there is a wonderful technological advance known as call forwarding. If I’m expecting a call and know I won’t be in the office when it’s likely to come, I can forward the call to my cell phone. I’m happy, the caller’s happy, and my cellular carrier is thrilled that I’ve used up a few more minutes on my plan. (My bookkeeper is another story).

If your lawyer does give you his or her cell phone number, please respect it. Don’t call with trivial questions that can just as easily be left on a voice mail and returned at a more convenient time. (You could always send an e-mail). Don’t call at all hours of the day and night (especially on holidays). Lawyers need down time, too.

And if you know there’s a thunder storm in the area, please don’t call my cell phone. It’s hooked up to my umbrella.

As I listened to Scrabble purists express their outrage at the mere thought of anyone having the audacity to score points for a proper noun, I was reminded of the night I was invited by my oldest son and his friends — then age 19 — to play what they called “College” Scrabble. My opponents were intelligent college students with high GPAs who were skilled spellers with serious vocabularies. The rules called for the players to spell words phonetically. For example, ‘COLLEGE’ might be spelled ‘KALIJ’ (or something similar). We were also allowed to use slang words. I participated out of curiosity only, so the purists in my readership need not bombard me with nasty comments. I’ll always be a Scrabble purist at heart. Still, I admit that I found myself laughing more than I ever had during a Scrabble game. It was an experience. Besides, those college kids thought I was cool.

What does all that have to do with the law? Nothing, really.

Although when I think about it, perhaps there are some similarities between changing the rules of Scrabble and the law. Consider our own state statutes. They are the rules that dictate how we, as citizens, live in Connecticut. Everything from how to divorce to how to dispose of hazardous waste. (Which, on occasion, may be one in the same. But I digress). Our statutes encompass several lengthy volumes and serve as the blueprint for judges in every courthouse across the state. But those statutes — or rules — are always changing.

How was that for a nice segue?

I posted the other night on Connecticut’s proposed “Sexting” Bill, which seeks to lessen the penalty for consenting minors who engage in that activity. Currently, our statutes make it a felony to participate in sexting. It’s a lot like playing the word “Scrabble” on a Scrabble board. Bad, bad, bad.

The rules of Scrabble haven’t changed since the game was conceived in 1948. That’s likely because the rules make sense, they work, and everyone is happy playing by them. Laws, on the other hand, don’t always make sense, they don’t always work, and not everyone is happy following them.

Picture me trying to text and drive: Distance glasses on, driving in heavy traffic. Four lane road without a median divider. Bzzzz, I just received a text message. I take off the driving glasses and fumble through the center console for those stupid half-eye reading glasses. It’s okay that I have my eyes off the road for 5 minutes while I rummage through all that junk. The other drivers will just assume I’m a drunk driver and steer clear of my weaving car.

Okay, I find the reading glasses (and that candy bar I bought a year ago that has since melted onto my map of Connecticut). I work them out of the case with one hand and slip them onto my nose. I check myself out in the rear view mirror to be sure I look scholarly. I do. Great, now I can adjust my focus on those teeny weenie letters on my cell phone.

It’s my son. He wants to know why I can’t come home immediately to drive him to the skateboard shop. I text back (expertly using the thumb of my right hand) that I’m on my way to court and the judge probably wouldn’t take too kindly to me not showing up for trial.

I hear a horn blaring. An 18 wheeler is headed straight for me. What does that idiot think he’s doing? He’s going to kill me. Doesn’t he know how to drive? He must be drunk. Oops, I seem to have crossed the center line and am driving into the oncoming traffic. Where are those stupid driving glasses? They must be propped up on top of my head. Ah, that’s better. Now that I can see the road again, I ease back into my travel lane. The trucker gives me a friendly wave as he speeds by me. Nice guy. Oh, wait, that was his middle finger. Doesn’t he know I’m trying to text here?

It seems ironic that some 22 states that have laws banning texting while driving actually offer drivers a convenient way to obtain information about traffic, road conditions and emergencies via Twitter … on their cell phones.

I don’t make this stuff up.

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!