The Young Person's Guide to Practicing Law

Mona Lisa Vito: Don't you wanna know why Trotter gave you his files?
Vinny Gambini: I told you why already.
Mona Lisa Vito: He has to, by law, you're entitled. It's called disclosure, you dickhead! He has to show you everything, otherwise it could be a mistrial. He has to give you a list of all his witnesses, you can talk to all his witnesses, he's not allowed any surprises.
[Vinny has a blank look on his face]
Mona Lisa Vito: They didn't teach you that in law school either?

--My Cousin Vinny

There's a lot of stuff they don't teach you in law school, or business school, or beauty school. Law schools teach law, but they never tell you anything about how to be a lawyer. Really, no one teaches that kind of thing in a formal setting. You have to pick it up, usually painfully, by trial and error one day at a time, going home crying every night for the mistakes you made all day. Hypothetically. If you're lucky you may work for another lawyer that cares enough to share these little tips with you, but most people don't have that luxury.

Being as how I never go anywhere without a reason, today that reason is to help you, the young person, understand some things about practicing law, or for that matter really doing anything in business. A lot of this is put in terms of litigation, but really it applies any time you're in a deal and there's someone on the other side. None of these are in any particular order, mind you, and just because I say this is what you should do doesn't mean this is what I always do. The gap between actual and aspirational is often quite wide. But I do try. Often.

Never respond to a judge or another lawyer when you're angry. Sort of like don't talk to your wife when you're angry. In the immortal words of Marvin Gaye, there's no need to escalate. Most of the time when you're responding while reacting to the sense of shock and appallment to what your opponent has just communicated, you're overreacting, not thinking clearly, and prone to making a small fight into a much larger one. Better to let the moment pass, calm down, then reevaluate. If its still a big deal, fine, go ahead and let them have it. But do that only after you've sat on it for a bit.

Don't take any lessons or advice from your opponents. They ordinarily have nothing to gain from helping you, and they're not your friend, so be wary. Do what you think is right, and let the other guy convince the judge you're wrong. But do listen to what they're saying. Evaluate it critically. Maybe they're right about some things. Where they are, adjust your thinking.

Save all your e-mails, at least the ones where you're conveying information to your client, or the opponent, or they to you. Most fights wind up being about what was supposedly agreed to earlier in the case, or even before. Keeping a paper trail is essential.

Likewise, get everything you can in writing. If there's any chance the other side will try to screw you, or forget the agreed terms, or change their mind, or any combination, its your word against theirs if any of those happen. At least send them an e-mail "confirming our discussion" and asking them to respond if they disagree.

Plagiarize. Thousands of people before you, and probably some in your firm, have already done at least some of the work that you need to do for your current project. There's no need to reinvent the wheel, especially when time is limited or you're billing a client by the hour.

Get to the point. Now this is really important. I don't care what you do, unless you're William Shakespeare, no one has time to sit around and listen to your brilliance waiting to find out exactly what you want. Judges and clients have millions of things to do every day, and can't normally spend half an hour dwelling on the intricacies of some complex or obscure point. So just come straight to it. Say what you want, why you want it, and how you want it done. Then circle back to explain more fully. Think of it as one-minute Shakespeare. Be able to tell the entire story of your case in under 30 seconds.

Don't lie, cheat, steal, or associate with those who do. Its just not worth it. Think about how you would explain what you did if you're ever forced to justify your position or conduct to a judge (or client). Your word and your reputation-that's all you have as a lawyer (or businessman or businesswoman). Once that goes, you've got nothing. When word gets out that you can't be trusted, its over.

Don't parse the fine print looking for some slim reed of an argument to hang on to by your fingernails. If its not there its not there and deal with it. If all you have is something that really doesn't even convince you, figure out something else. What about when your client insists that you push a position that is extremely weak, makes no sense, will get you yelled at by the judge, etc.? They're in charge. All you can do is give them your opinion that the argument is weak, and explain why, and give all the likely ramifications. If they insist, its on them. Will you get blamed when it goes wrong anyway? Very probably. Lots of clients expect that you have power over time and space, or can hypnotize judges and juries into believing anything you want. Maybe Johnnie Cochran did, not too many others. No one ever said practicing law was always going to be fun.

More on that front. Don't fall in love with your case. Try as much as you can to view your case, and your facts, from the neutral observer perspective. Talk to people, preferably non-lawyers, about your case and see what they think. Try to be critical and think of how you would attack your own case. Then go deal with those weaknesses. Alternatively, if you're in love with your case, try to distill the reasons why and make sure you communicate those to the judge/jury.

Be nice. Or at least don't be not nice. I know its shocking to think that yelling at someone may not be the best way to persuade them to do what you want (signed the high school football coach you still hate all these years later), but most people don't really respond too well to that. Besides, today's peon you think you can treat poorly usually winds up being tomorrow's Lieutenant Governor, or VP of Human Resources, or District Judge. Or, someone who's friends with someone like that. The point is, even if you don't want to be nice, you just can't burn people. It generally comes back to haunt. Hypothetically.

You have to keep in mind, everything you're doing is for the benefit of, and to help out, your client. No client = no job. That client wants to know how to do something, and wants to know their legal rights and obligations. They're depending on you to give them legal advice. They're not paying you for a treatise on some 1873 landmark case. They're also not paying you to tell them the 12 reasons they can't do what they want. They want answers. They want something constructive. You are there to help them achieve their goals. If, legally, they can't do exactly what they want, tell them something close to that they can do.

Don't sit on bad news. If there really is no way to reach the desired result, or if you've screwed up something, or the judge or the other side did something bad, its generally not going to get any better over time. Maybe if you get with your client quickly, there's something they can do to avoid the damage, like exercise some right to cure, for example.

For that matter, communicate with your clients. The number one client complaint to attorney grievance boards is about lack of communication. Update your clients frequently. Even if nothing's happening, tell them nothing's happening (explain why, of course, and tell them when you think something will happen). Better for you to take a few minutes to update them than for them to sit there thinking you're ignoring them. By the same token, return their calls quickly. Even if all you can do is say "I'm tied up and I can't talk to you right now, but I got your message and will call again as soon as I can," that's better than waiting a week to return your client's call.

Always calendar things right away. You'll forget it if you wait. Your calendar is your life. There's no getting away with "I forgot to put the hearing on my calendar."

Along the lines of not sitting on bad news, return painful phone calls soon. Calling that obnoxious lawyer on the other side, or your no good slimebag client, may be something that will ruin your day, but putting it off isn't going to make it any better. Putting it off just lets the dread build more and more. By the time you finally are forced to make the call, you may well be a mess. Plus, the person you're calling may react even worse because you've made them wait so long.

Establish and stick with a document handling routine. When pleadings, agreements, checks, ancient family documents come in, have a system for handling them. Then follow the system. Don't let important and single-copy documents pile up for weeks on your desk. You may wind up throwing away a cashier's check for $800,000 by mistake, causing your firm's legal malpractice carrier to have to sign an indemnity bond to IBC Bank to reissue another check. Hypothetically.

Delegate. You can't do everything. Your assistant is there to help you. Use them. Don't be afraid to give them work and instructions. Don't be a jerk about it, of course, but do give clear instructions on what you want done and when you need it. Garbage in, garbage out. If you're not clear about what you want done, its not going to get done.

Don't try to work when you're sick and not thinking clearly. Take the day off. Don't return calls, don't make filings, don't go to hearings, when you aren't right. Get someone else to file something asking for more time, or have your assistant call. You're only hurting your client trying to represent their interests when you can't think.

Dress and act the part. As Crash Davis said in Bull Durham, "think classy, and you'll be classy." No one wants their lawyer to look like a slob, or like his wife just got back from Tommy Bahama's. Also, try not to cringe in the spotlight. Your confident words will never overcome cowering. Personally I use the Mick Jagger Walk On any time I can. This was something Pete Townshend of the Who did in the group's early days to overcome nervousness. Basically, any time you take the podium, or enter the room, don't think of yourself as the Joe Average, bottom third of his class and guy in charge of everclear margarita Tuesday happy hours at Land Grant University Law School, that you really are. Think of yourself as Mick Jagger taking the stage, while Keith is tearing into the opening riff on "Jumping Jack Flash." Its a gas, gas, gas.

Read and re-read your opponents' filings (or the transactional documents). Don't take anyone else's word for what they say. Proofread your own documents just as thoroughly. Nothing makes you look less minor league than numerous typos and obvious "cut and paste" glitches.

Lawyers categorize. They don't really creatively think. They pigeonhole problems and apply the rules in each category. Liken your question to something you know already. Judge F.A. Little, Jr. taught me that one.

Its not "don't ask a question you don't know the answer to." Its "don't ask a question you can't deal with any answer to."

No matter how bad things are going in the case, or the deal, keep playing the game. At some point, maybe your message will get across. Maybe your negotiating partners will finally understand. Maybe you'll find some new piece of evidence, or a new witness. Good things happen when you keep plugging away, even if it might seem hopeless.

Don't get too down or too up. Nothing ever goes as badly as it sounds when you're in the middle of it. Likewise, nothing's ever as good in reality as it sounds at the time. There's usually always some way to salvage what may seem like a disaster. And there's always time to screw the pooch when you're on a roll.

Try to leave work at work. Don't obsess over it in your free time. Like I am right now. None of this thinking about your case while in the shower, or worrying about the wholesale market at 3 a.m. Signed Pat Wood. Take sanity breaks during the day too. Stress has killed more lawyers than I care to think about. If you can take at least 5 minutes in the middle of every day to get away from it all, and just have a relaxing moment, it will make a tremendous difference.

Know all the details of your case, and the other side's case, but keep focused on the big picture. No jury or judge is going to make a decision based on any specific detail. The decision will be based on the overall story.

Be a real person. Don't talk like a lawyer. No one in real life talks about whether they "have occasion to" do something, or says "be that as it may." Ok, I say be that as it may. But I get ridiculed for it by the non-pod people. Oh, and don't be a list-maker. "The first reason we should go to Jack in the Box is..." Stop that, right away.

Way too much here, and if you've read this far you seriously need something else to occupy your life, but I'll end with a thought about dealing with it all. Something about the practice of law attracts very high-strung, tense, volatile people, or at least it makes them that way at times. There's always deadlines, the phone is always ringing, people aren't doing what you want, you've often got a client with a knife at your back ready to stick it in if you back up at all, and almost no one ever calls to congratulate you on the fantastic job you're doing and the long hours you're putting in for them. Clients don't pay your bills as fast as you need them to; partners don't pay you the bonus you more than deserve. None of your assistants can do anything right. Your computer keeps crashing. You've got about 12 things that have to be done today, and that idiot partner just has to see you to waste your time talking about something not due for another month. There is no easy way to deal with all this, particularly as a young lawyer without as much control over your schedule. Frankly, its what drives a lot of people out of the practice of law. I guess just keep in mind that working quickly doesn't mean you have to get all tense and jumpy about it. Find ways to cut corners. Borrow other people's work. Write 5 pages, not 10, if 5 will do. Keep your forms, and cut and paste. Delegate where possible. Whereever possible, say no. Mainly, try not to take it out on the people you work with. If you feel it coming on, go to your office and shut the door. Get some exercise every day, even if its just to walk around the block. Eat right. Get some sleep. Drink water. Take your B vitamins. All these things sound ridiculous, but they make a huge difference.

Next: You're In the Audience, Not the Movie

More Bad things 'bout Lance

Its not just me. Its the New York Times. You know, all the news that's fit to print, the Pentagon Papers, 98 Pulitzer Prizes, Jayson Blair...that New York Times.

One single detail in the story demonstrates everything I said-dude hired Sean Penn's publicist. 'Nuff said.

They didn't credit my earlier post, but we know where they got the idea for this story.

Next up: The Young Person's Guide to Practicing Law

Cyd Charisse

I just learned that Cyd Charisse passed away today. This is a profoundly sad occasion. Those of you who read here know of my high regard for her.

I remember when Gene Kelly died, the most moving of all the news stories about it was on the McNeil-Lehrer Report, where instead of a lot of tedious, factual description of his career, they just played the Singin' in the Rain number from the movie.

So instead of my usual long, boring exposition, let's instead enjoy these gems, the first from The Band Wagon, the second from Singing In The Rain:

Live to Ride, Ride to Live

Tonight and tomorrow is the now annual Republic of Texas biker rally. No its not just Harleys, its all kinds of bikes. All weekend, nearly everywhere in Austin you can hear the rumble of big bikes, usually ridden by very big people. Tonight I went to the parade down Congress Avenue and took a bunch of pictures that are now on my flickr site. Other events I'll miss include roller derby girls, Molly Hatchet, Charlie Daniels Band and Johnny Winter in concert, cage fights, tattoo contests, and the Coyote Ugly girls. Your usual family weekend.

A few observations. First, years of sun exposure and smoking is very good for your skin. I haven't seen that many crevices since I went to the Grand Canyon. I wanted to come home and douse myself in lotion. Next, a rigid situps regimen apparently isn't a requirement for living the biker lifestyle. I saw guts that had their own gravitational forces...on the women. Also, most of these guys are insurance agents (I usually refer to them as "Hells Accountants"). But as the photos show, the Bandidos made an appearance. Those of you from Texas may recall the Bandidos as Texas' answer to the Hells Angels. They started in Houston, and quickly became renowned as a criminal gang. Note the "1%" diamond patch-that means they are an "outlaw club." Basically, these are a bunch of bad asses tearing around the country. Finally, I saw several kids; some moms were holding their hands over the kids ears to protect them from the sound. It continues to amaze me that parents insist on taking little children to some of these kinds of events. The parade was especially loud. Its impossible to describe just how loud those bikes get. The crowds were very thick. That's the last place I'd take a little child (well, except for Disney World of course).

Oh, and in a "only in Austin" circumstance, it turns out that this weekend is also the annual Gay Pride Festival and Parade. Wonder how much overlap there will be between the two parades? Who wants me to take pictures of that too?

Sorry so many of these pictures are blurred. Hard to capture because everything was moving, and I lost the light.

All About Chris

Apparently the kids who blog have this thing called "tagging." Best as I can figure out, this is a cross between a chain letter and spin the bottle (played at Baptist summer camp, at least before the counselors left for the night to go secretly make out). Tagging, as best I can tell, is when you write a bunch of information about yourself in certain Playboy Playmate Questionnaire-type categories, then challenge others to do likewise. My friend Ashley has insisted that I respond to the following, so here goes.

What was I doing five years ago?-- Five years ago I was cooking fish. Uh, that was five minutes ago. Five years ago I was living alone in Austin spending too much time working, getting cranky, and being not married. Under "progress" that's scored as a "no."

Five Snacks I Enjoy-- Rice cakes, fresh fruit...uh, no. Whole wheat tortillas w/cheese, almonds, sunflower seeds, PB&J, and cashew nuts.

Five things I would do if I had a billion dollars-- 1. Give some away to church and missions. 2. Form some sort of foundation (like the "Phil Foundation" that Dan Fielding was a trustee for in Night Court) to bolster my fragile ego through buying public adoration. 3. Buy a house in the Rice University area, which I might come close to affording (or at least could come close to qualifying for the necessary loan). 4. Houston Texans season tickets (something else I might come close to affording). 5. Lord it over women who've turned me down for dates (that's emotionally healthy, right?).

Five places I have lived-- Houston, Austin, Galveston, Alexandria (La), New Orleans.

Five Jobs I Have Had -- Flunkie at school district warehouse, paint salesman, intern for Texas House member, Southwestern Bell assignment center clerk, and night print shop worker at school district print shop.

OK, Ashley. Satisfied?

Is It OK to Start Hating on Lance Armstrong Yet?

I mean, really. At the risk of having the Lance-bots string me up at Eeyore's Birthday celebration, I think we need to ask whether this guy needs a celebrity timeout.

No question, Lance's story is an inspiration to millions. Here's a guy with a wife and child, scraping along pursuing his dream of competing in the world cycling circuit, struck down with near-fatal testicular cancer. Doctors tell him he'll be lucky to live; continued competition is highly unlikely. But Lance not only beats cancer, he wins the Tour de France, putting in grueling training sessions when not enduring grueling chemo and radiation sessions. Then he wins the race many more times, all the while keeping cancer at bay. Not only that, he founds a charity, Livestrong, that raises millions for cancer research, and he flies around the world promoting it. No doubt, that's a great story.

But, the paint has been peeling off of that story for some time.

First, he divorces his wife who supported him through the dark cancer days. I've heard rumors around town that pin the blame on her, but in reading some of her essays in Runner's World, I kind of doubt it. For a long time before the divorce, there were stories about the stress created by his living and training in Europe while the wife and fam stayed in Austin. But, who knows, so I'm tempted to give him that one.

But not long after leaving his wife, he starts dating famous rocker Sheryl Crow. Now I will grant that at least she's age appropriate, and was fairly well established on her own. But it wasn't a good sign that his first post-Kristin relationship was with the writer of "All I Want to Do is Have Some Fun."

Then, we find out that damn near every other competitive cyclist in the world has not just experimented with steroids, but apparently was jamming them down their gullet morning, noon, and night. Numerous stories circulated accusing Lance of doing the same, although there's never been any firm documentation that Lance ever actually failed a legitimate drug test. But still, even granting that its the miserable and pathetic French trying to take down an American who conquered their sport, that's an awful lot of smoke. How does a guy fresh off of cancer treatment manage to beat a bunch of frenchy biking dopers, and beat them badly, without using the stuff himself? And how did he continue to win the most grueling cycling race in the world all those years, against competition jacked up on steroids, if he wasn't using? Its not proof, but it doesn't look good.

Then, when Sheryl Crow developed cancer, Lance dropped her like a losing lottery ticket, or like she was contagious. So not only does she have to go through cancer treatment, she has to endure weeks of tabloid speculation about her private life.

Next step, he started dating half-his-age, anorexia for fun and profit, Queen Twin of Mass Media Ashley Olsen. I'm not sure exactly what was more creepy about that-the fact that he literally was old enough to be her father, or that he pretty much did look like her father. The eeeewwwww factor was palpable.

But, to put the boot in, Lance started rolling with noted man-child, non-deodorant wearing tool Matthew McConaughey. Pictures are printed in all the magazines. Shirtless jogging together, shirtless clubbing together, shirtless doing Austin together, shirtless man-dating together, making BFF scrapbooks together. Lance goes Hollywood. Rolling with Wooderson by itself ought to get you on the hate list.

Leaving Matt, he swooped in on rebounding Kate Hudson, ex-wife of Black Crowes two-dimesional lead singer Chris Robinson and (allegedly) fresh off of inspiring fellow Texan Owen Wilson's suicide attempt. Bad enough snaking some other guy's action, but its inexcusable when its another Texan.

So the case against Lance Armstrong boils down to the story that propelled him to fame becoming less and less believable over time, going Hollywood, and repeatedly taking shirts off with the Bongo Man. Nike ads, and a possible life story movie. Hanging out with the Rolling Stones. Finally, the incessant, local promotion and unquestioning hero worship accorded him in Austin. I haven't seen this much celebrity obsession around here since Vince Young. That is, pre nine touchdowns/15 interceptions Vince Young.

I think that adds up to Lance needing to focus on just the fundraising and backing away from the quest for fame.

How To Score with Chicks

But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?
It is the east, and Juliet is the sun....See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand!
O, that I were a glove upon that hand,
That I might touch that cheek!
Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Sc. 2

Now when you talk to her, I don't want you to be the guy in the PG-13 movie that everyone's really pulling for. I want you to be the guy in the rated R movie who you're not sure if you like.
Swingers

Times change. And with them, what’s considered acceptable behavior.

I’ve reached that unhappy turning point in life where I’ve now spent more of it than not chasing women, and thought I understood the process, even if I haven’t exactly mastered it.

I had come to regard it as not unlike college football recruiting. Like recruiting, the goal is to secure the best blue-chip recruits. Naturally this is challenging as there’s plenty of competition from the Oklahomas, LSUs and USCs of the dating world, so you need to diligently work on your game. It also means that from time to time, say when that year’s crop of recruits isn’t up to par, you may have to settle for All-District talent rather than All-State.

Also like football recruiting, there at least used to be a somewhat recognized process for pursuing women. It’s a courting process-no vulgar, over-the-top overt gestures like giving away Trans-Ams or Escalades, money, or fake promises of starting for the next four years. You would never sign two players at the same position, at least not without first disclosing to each that you’re doing so. Like recruiting, you make an initial approach after having first done some investigation into the recruit’s character, get to know them while expressing admiration, and then ask for an initial “get to know you” meeting. After that, the coaches and recruit can decide whether get serious and spend more time with each other. During that process, both sides open up more and exchange information, meet with friends and parents, and only after the end of a process do they each make a commitment. Flattery, respect, persuasion, deliberation. Or as the Wicked Witch of the West put it, “these things must be done delicately.”

Of course, none of that applies to crazy chicks, which calls for a completely different approach. Each time out, you have to play it by ear and read the signs, like a fisherman reading that morning’s tides. Like stalking the big fish, there you need a guide, plenty of natives to help with the equipment, a huge net and a really big rod and reel.

But as for the rest, apparently now you just send naked crank shots of yourself via cell phone.

That’s right. Apparently this is how Generation Y throws down.

Yeah, now you just call up naked pictures of yourself, dial the girl of your dreams, hit send, and tally-ho. I guess potentially that saves the cost of drinks and dinner and avoids a lot of dreary small talk but Good Lord. I kept telling everyone that no good could come of all this technology, but does anyone ever pay attention to me? No, and see what happens? Now a “booty call” really is a booty call.

Now, I always thought that for about 98% of us losers, the naked male body is pretty much the last thing a woman wanted to see. The “reveal” is like Step 145 in the process, after you’ve either hypnotized, fooled, or confused her enough with Steps 1-144 that she can handle Step 145 without passing out or laughing.

And what woman sees a picture of some random naked guy and thinks, “wow, how sexy, I can’t wait to get with that guy!” Answer: no one I’d get within 20 feet of without a full-body condom. This is sort of like guys who hoot and holler at women-would you really want to be with someone you could pull by yelling “hey baby, nice ass”? I thought not.

I also enjoyed reading that these kids wind up dialing the wrong numbers and sending the pictures to parents by mistake. I send e-mail to the wrong people all the time and dial wrong numbers too. Normally I don’t have to worry that’ll wind up showing The Captain to someone like, oh, my law partners or my Dad. That would be a little hard to live down if you know what I mean.

And how does the single gal account for photoshopping? I mean, how do you know what you’re being sent is the “genuine article”? Seems like this practice is just rife with potential for deception. Caveat emptor.

We have a very schizophrenic culture when it comes to sex. On the one hand, our country has a strong “sexuality is bad/evil/immoral” streak, particularly with young women. Witness Miley Cyrus, who has artistic photos taken by one of the best photographers working today, Annie Leibowitz, which are about a million times less sexual than anything the Jessica/Paris/Lindsay/Britney/Christina monster did at that age, and its like some national scandal. Parents routinely react with shock and outrage at any attempt to have a dispassionate or even clinical discussion of sex in schools, and MSNBC may go out of business if it runs out of stories about arrests of teachers having sex with students. On the other hand, I may have to gouge my eyes out if I have to endure another shock appearance of Lindsay Lohan’s crotch in some magazine. Sex and sexuality is all over cable and network TV, PG-13 movies, and the J/P/L/B/C are among the most celebrated of all personalities in this country. Kids laugh as the President of the United States is asked “boxers or briefs?” Julia Roberts playing a hooker becomes one of the biggest Disney hits of all time. One out of every four teenage girls has a sexually transmitted disease, which means more than one of every three boys must have one too. Whatever sort of high-minded Puritanical parenting may be going on in the suburbs somehow wears off between the door of the Ford Explorer dropping the kids off for school and the school door.

I also liked reading that the Texas school saw this as sufficiently alarming that it had to search the entire student body looking for photos the girls took and sent to their boyfriends. While they’re at it, next time, can you look for guns and knives? Its admittedly not a good for naked pictures to make the rounds at school, but naked pictures don’t burst into classrooms and kill dozens of students. Another of our cultural disconnects is relative impassiveness at the threat of violence as compared to the threat of premature sex. Case after case of school violence have happened, and the communities mourned after the fact, but where were the preventative measures and the angry mothers before each of these happened? Where it comes to sex, though, the parents are generally on that long before the deed.

I also really like this new trend of girls taking naked pictures of themselves and sending them to their boyfriends, and then reacting with shock, SHOCK, when something goes wrong, particularly after the breakup. Who was that High School Musical idiot, also working for the Walt Disney Corporation, that thought it would be totally cool to send pictures to her boyfriend and was horrified when they wound up somewhere else? I won’t even send a client’s confidential commercial data by e-mail to anymore I’m so concerned about accidental forwarding, but I guess its ok to drop your pants, take a picture, and trust your boyfriend to protect your confidentiality after you’ve told him he’s a creep and you never want to see him again. Oh, and can I have my pictures back? Right.

Where was I?

Oh, yeah, how to score with chicks. Buy a cell phone with a camera function, take the picture, hit send, then make sure to tell her you used the “wide angle lens.”

How to Be A Gentleman

Francie Stevens (Grace Kelly): The next thing I noticed was something remarkable. All evening, you looked at my mother, not at me.
John Robie (Cary Grant): I kissed you, didn't I?
FS: I kissed you.
JR: I wasn't looking at her then.
FS: You were thinking about her, or you would never would have let me say goodnight so easily.
JR: Well I'm a gentleman.
FS: A rough lumberman from the Northwest?
JR: I must remember to yell "Timber!" occasionally.

To Catch A Thief (1954)

Today the Houston Chronicle excerpted a list from a new book on how to be a gentleman. This has every sign of being one of those books that are essentially lists that a bunch of twentysomethings thought up over cocktails one afternoon. You know, the kind of book you read by the pool, or when the neighbor's kid snagged this month's People from your mailbox. Basically something more appropriate for a blog than a book you would spend money on.

Before I go further, are we all agreed that coming up with some big list isn't actual writing, its just a list? I mean, when Shakespeare compared thee to a summer's day, it wasn't a list. "#4. You're bright, like a sunny summer day." No, that really isn't writing, unless you're a lawyer, in which case that's the only way you communicate with anyone ("the third reason we should get cheeseburgers is we won't have to wait as long as for other types of fast food"; I've endured these kinds of conversations for almost 20 years now).

But, having previously taken it upon myself to lecture everyone, men at least, about what they need to be able to do in life, this article (and another one on teenagers sending nude photos of themselves to their friends via cell phone) has convinced me that I need to share more of my vast and valuable knowledge and expertise with you, dear readers. Really, lets face it, some of you losers desparately need it, and the rest of you know someone who does. This represents the first in a series of "how to" posts, giving you valuable nuggets of information. Feel free to thank me later (without touching me in the process, however).

Let me approach this by commenting on this guy's list, then giving my own suggestions. Basically, this list is pretty vapid.

A gentleman . . .

1. Keeps to the right, whether he is walking on a sidewalk, down a hallway or on the stairs.

That's just ridiculous. What if the person you're passing is already on the right side? Or is English?

2. . . . does not attempt to walk and send text messages simultaneously.

Well that's true, but unless it puts someone out, like if you walk into someone or into an open manhole, who cares?

3. . . . waits for a woman to initiate a social kiss. If she leans toward him, he turns his cheek toward her lips. And when she graces him with a light, brushing kiss, he doesn't dawdle in accepting it.

I don't believe in social kisses. You certainly don't know where someone's been (that's admittedly harsh but true). In any case, I don't like people coming up on me like that so I don't approve of some sweaty guy in a polyester shirt wearing socks with holes in them trying to kiss random women. Still, if the lady insists, that's how you do it. In the immortal words of Madeline Kahn, "no tongues."

4. . . . doesn't wipe away a lipstick smudge in the presence of the woman who planted it on him. He bears it, even if briefly, as a badge of honor, wiping it away later with a handkerchief.

Well you don't immediately go wiping it off like you accidentally drank after some snot-nosed kid or something, but neither do you strut around with second-hand lipstick as if though you were a 12 year old boy who just made out with his trashy girlfriend in front of her locker just before language arts class. And does it really say "badge of honor" or "I am a douche"?

5. . . . waits until a lady at the table lifts her fork before he takes his first bite.

Yeah, that's true, unless you're out with Anorexia Girl, who might, possibly, eat two leaves of lettuce of her salad before complaining of being full. You could starve at that rate; she is of hardier stock and will not-eat you under the table.

6. . . . eats the garnish on his dinner plate if he so desires.

Who eats the garnish, unless you've just come out of the Sinai Desert like Lawrence of Arabia after he conquered Aqaba?

7. . . . places his knife and his fork on his plate side by side, as if they were the hands of a clock set at 5:25, when he's finished eating.

Wrong! You should set it at 4:45. Now if only waiters understood that. If you're paying more than $50 for dinner, you have the right to keep your plate until you're finished eating.

8. . . . always has an umbrella to share.

I always carry a spare umbrella. Signed dork guy and hotel concierge.

9. . . . never wears a belt when he is wearing suspenders.

Yeah that's true. But then again, Robin Williams may be the only guy I've ever seen do this, so probably not that instructive.

10. . . . leaves the bottom button of his vest undone.

That's true. But this is a mark of a gentleman? Buttons?

11. . . . never wears a bow-tie with a button-down shirt.

Not true. WF Buckley did that. George Will too. And Pappy Little. Three is a trend.

12. . . . owns at least one pair of black lace-up shoes.

That's true. And they should be properly shined.

13. . . . usually takes his shirts to the laundry but knows how to use an iron and spray starch.

Very true, at least about knowing how to iron. Wrinkles just mean you're a slob, and its pretty hard to go to the cleaners when you're traveling.

14. . . . is careful about what he says in e-mails. He meticulously reviews his messages, editing if necessary to make sure recipients will understand what he's saying — and the tone in which he says it.

True. But, difficult to insure meaning because some things are just inherently subject to different meanings in writing. Of course, this won't apply to the booty text.

15. . . . knows how to make a grilled cheese sandwich at 2 a.m. and an omelet at 7 a.m.

This is just ridiculous. Everyone knows you eat grilled cheese in the morning too.

16. . . . doesn't flaunt his newest gadgets, no matter how expensive or cutting-edge they may be.

Boys and their toys....I've got to say yes to this one. Unless you're James Bond driving your new Aston Martin.

17. . . . feels no necessity to wear socks after Memorial Day — at least in casual situations. If he is Southern, he may not even wear them to church.

We're measuring whether someone is a gentleman by whether he wears socks? If you don't wear socks to church, you, my friend, may be a redneck.

18. . . . never wears the same pair of blue jeans two days in a row.

Wrong. Jeans are good for at least a four day run. Oh, and the only appropriate jeans for men to wear are either Wranglers or Levis. Period.

19. . . . puts the liquor away when he wants guests to leave.

I don't understand. He puts it back in the cabinet, or he "puts it away," cannonballing it like Carl Spackler?

20. . . . always offers to get up and make the coffee in the morning.

I take it that's an offer made to a lady, so I would have to agree there. Unless she doesn't like coffee.

21. . . . never waits for something better to turn up.

Nope. A gentleman always waits for something better to turn up. Its called bettering yourself.

My own list, made necessary because personal habits don't reflect whether one is a gentleman.

A Gentleman:

1. Makes others at ease and comfortable in his company (hence "those jeans definitely do NOT make you look fat").

2. Is forthright and honest (does not "lie, cheat or steal or tolerate those who do").

3. Is reliable and loyal.

4. Takes responsibility for his actions; admits, rectifies, and learns from mistakes; stands by correct decisions that prove unpopular.

5. Does not dishonor his friends and family by associating with those who lack such qualities.

6. Will always put family first.

7. Does not let himself be taken advantage of.

I may not do all these things, but its how I try to roll.

Next, How to Score with Chicks.

Don't Cry for Me Argentina

Like Robert Mugabe and military juntas too numerous to name, I have decided not to abide by the poll results in the recent "Send Me on Vacation" post, and instead have decided to take my annual "I don't have any kids or a wife to support and therefore have money and time to burn" vacation in...wait for it...Argentina. Now, in fairness to me, there was no clear winner in the blog poll results. As I think I mentioned, a couple of places tied with two votes each, and I had not established any rules on how to break ties. Since that poll, the dollar has pretty much bit the big one, so going to more conventional vacation spots, like Italy or Salt Lake City, was going to be extremely pricey. [The SLC reference, of course, is a tip of the cap to one of my favorite stories, about this guy who lived in Wyoming and who won free round-trip tickets on Pan-Am airlines to anywhere it flew, which at the time was everywhere in the world, and who chose to go to Salt Lake City because he always wanted to see the Mormon Tabernacle]. Anyway, given the lack of a legitimate winner, and the currency debacle occurring since the vote, I rationalized, errrr, decided that it would be ok to chart an alternate course. I picked neither Bush nor Gore.

Argentina, land of the pampas and Nazis fleeing the Allies, sun-drenched paradise, birthplace of the tango, overflowing with tender, succulent beef and raging yellow fever in the northwest. I will take it all in (although I'll get a yellow fever shot first-YF used to wipe out about a third of New Orleans and Houston every few years pre-air conditioning, so with all the Houston DNA floating throughout my body I'm sure those bacteria would think of me as "home"). I will do so from afar, of course, interacting with as few people on a human level as possible because that's what it means to roll Reeder-style. After all, hell, those people hid Eichmann and Mengele for 10 years, their military carried out a "dirty war" against the populace for about seven years after they invited the dictator back from exile (like, what did they expect was going to happen), and they're still seething over the Malvinas/Falklands. Maybe its best to keep my head down.

But, still, the place is beautiful and cheap [apologies, but I had to make an "ideal date" reference here]. The dollar still goes far in Argentina, and the sights reportedly are varied and excellent. Lots of hiking, and Buenos Aires has gotten good reviews from some people I know (and by that, I mean these late twenty-something doofuses I had dinner with at Vic and Anthony's last summer before an Astros game-they were totally stoked about the BA, dude). Now, I have to say my friend Maridee went to Buenos Aires a couple of years ago and didn't think it was so great, but that appears to be a contrarian view in light of the glowing reviews that all the usual travel resources give it. Plus, I'll go to other places in Argentina, like Ushuia, southermost permanent settlement in the world, or Parque Nacional Los Glaciares, near the Chilean border, a UNESCO world heritage site.

Now if I can just keep that damn song out of my head. Curse you Andrew Lloyd Webber! I'll also have to brush up on my spanish, learning crucial phrases like "I demand to see the American ambassador," and "my family hates me and will not pay a ransom."

Oh, and yeah, I'll blog daily, or as near as possible, during the trip, which will be the first two weeks of September.