From My Briefcase: Care and Feeding of the Common Lawyer 101

After 23 years as a lawyer, I feel safe advising businesspeople on the species "legalosis argumentatis," i.e., the common lawyer found in the yellow pages.

The difficulty with the species is getting its attention. Jangling telephones don't do the trick, nor does withholding its food, i.e., money.

Understanding its environment and how it adapts may help. As a sole practitioner, I got 40 calls a day, even with my little practice. All wanted my attention for about 15 minutes. You do the math. No time left to work.

Clients complain about lack of contact as much as they do about the bill for making contact. Remember Abe Lincoln's philosophy, "A lawyer's time and advice are his stock in trade." That means "Don't complain when you get the bill for legal advice. We're not selling cans of soup here."

Technology has improved the lawyer's environment. Voice mail boxes help. Callers are satisfied hearing the lawyer's well-modulated voice. Most don't know that a well-trained legal secretary can be the most informative.

Front-line secretaries are up-to-date on case files. They type letters and pleadings and take phone calls. They are full of common sense and sympathy. Develop a good relationship with them. It pays off.

Since I officed at home in a low-key fashion the last few years, clients stopped by when they really needed me, often finding me in sweats, doing laundry or covered with garden dirt.

But if they didn't mind, why should I? Most lawyers can't give their clients that luxury.

There were abuses, such as a heinous client who came on Christmas Eve demanding I tell her ex-spouse he wasn't getting visitation that night. I politely declined and didn't offer eggnog.

Complainers would rather gripe than actually confront lawyers. Those who feel completely abandoned should make an appointment with their lawyer to talk about it. If you can't get in for a month, sit in his office and politely wait. You'll get some attention. But remember, your lawyer isn't your therapist. A therapist's cheaper.

A useful way to contact an attorney is by fax. He eventually reads the fax and answers it, often by fax. It's almost as good as real conversation. E-mail may be just as good, but there is more confidentiality by fax.

Most lawyers want to help their clients. Clients complain that once the dog-and-pony show of the first consult is over and the retainer paid, the lawyer disappears.

It's not that lawyers take the money and run although some do, and there is recourse for that problem. Most of them just have too much to do. They come in at 7 a.m. and work until 9 p.m. when the phone stops ringing. Not much of a life.

Your lawyer isn't your friend, your therapist or your cure-all. He or she is a well-educated, responsible person who operates under a strict set of ethical rules that sets the lawyer apart from any other professional. Ethics are tough, well-policed rules, despite what the media say. Some lawyers slip through, but not often. Their bad practices catch up with them eventually.

Be kind to your lawyer, not suspicious. Clients have sent me flowers and thank you notes. They knew I tried hard, and that I wasn't Superman or God.

The best thing a client gave me when we were knee-deep in her contentious dissolution was a gift certificate for a massage. She knew it would help me. And I was a better lawyer for it.

(Cheryl Capages is a reporter for the Springfield Business Journal.)