As soon as I started practicing law, I “lost the thread” andit remained hidden to me for a long time after that. Ibelieve I saw it swimming away, looking like a silvery ribbon-fish racing fast submerging beyond surface sight.
Law school was creepy and deadening, with nothing butboring reading, bad writing, one-note/one-topic (legal billing) professor “humor,” and the ever-present terror of beingcalled on in class and found unprepared and uninspired.
But the actual job of doing law, once I found a job, waslike hitting a solid, flat, featureless wall hard in the dark. It took a long time for my eyes to begin to adjustand see shapes, forms, and the outlines of doors and doorknobs, doorknobs I found eventually I could turn to enter communicatingrooms and spaces.
I wasn’t crazy about what I found myself doing, but I chose law deliberately and for rational reasons I could easilyexplain to you today in exactly the same way I often re-explained them tomyself during dark moments back then, whenI despaired of (I have to say it) Kafka-esque contradictions and the utter chaos of gritty New York City criminaland civil litigation practice. It’simpossible to be sufficiently rigorous in your daily preparation and zealous in yourclient advocacy when you’re overwhelmed with confusion andindifference.
Eventually I broke out of my trapped space and landed an excellent, prestigious job doing approximately what I wanted. I was surprised then (less so now) to find that my previous trapped lifetaught me some valuable lessons I could build on as I developed my new practice.
When you are mentally and sensually dead to the world as Iwas then -- essentially turned completelyinward -- not a lot gets through, but those things that do are significant. I had basically abandoned my previous museum, gallery-going, art magazine and art history-reading life because I find it difficult handling multiple serious subjects simultaneously, and I knew Ineeded to learn to be a good lawyer, which requires concentration and sacrifice. I still listened to music, of course (my wifewas in the music business and our life together was the great consolation theperiod offered me – and I don’t mean just the free records and concerts), andfor a long while reggae became my consuming passion. Jamaican music taught me more about rhythm, melody, harmonyand the multiple levels great art plumbs than anything else had for a longtime. It also made me a better, moretolerant and thoughtful person than I would otherwise have been during Manhattan’sterrible and terrifying Bernie Goetz era.
One non-Jamaican song that really got through to me back then, which Ihadn’t thought about until recently, was "Too Many Creeps" by The Bush Tetras. I first heard it when the company I worked for renteda hip downtown dance/music club called Tier 3 and threw a party to reward the marketing, salesand creative services teams for good work and excellent results on somechallenging projects during the early days of home video “sell-through.” I wassurprised and proud to find myself the only member of the legal departmentinvited to attend. My colleagues concluded that I was a good counselor,facilitator, advocate and friend, and that I broke through the traditional corporate “lawyer impediment”role, so they decided to include me intheir festivities, which was uplifting.
One non-Jamaican song that really got through to me back then, which Ihadn’t thought about until recently, was "Too Many Creeps" by The Bush Tetras. I first heard it when the company I worked for renteda hip downtown dance/music club called Tier 3 and threw a party to reward the marketing, salesand creative services teams for good work and excellent results on somechallenging projects during the early days of home video “sell-through.” I wassurprised and proud to find myself the only member of the legal departmentinvited to attend. My colleagues concluded that I was a good counselor,facilitator, advocate and friend, and that I broke through the traditional corporate “lawyer impediment”role, so they decided to include me intheir festivities, which was uplifting.
The Bush Tetras often played Tier 3 and “Too ManyCreeps” is one of the really great downtown-but-everywhere-in-New York Citysongs. Actually, I think it applies tothe whole world.
Do you know the song? It’s funny, very direct and as true today as it was then.
Eventually years later, after many changes, I found the thread again.
I just don’t wanna go
Out in the streets no more
I just don’t wanna go
Out in the streets no more
Because these people they give me
They give me the creeps
Anymore
Because these people they give me
They give me the creeps
Anymore
I don’t wanna
Too many Creeps
Too many Creeps
Too many Creeps
Too many Creeps
Too many Creeps
Too many Creeps
Eventually years later, after many changes, I found the thread again.
Note: "Too Many Creeps", Bush Tetras and Tier 3 links in paragraph 7. Polka-dot ribbon-fish immediately above.
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