A human chameleon

As a lawyer, you have to be a kind of human chameleon. No, you don't actually change color, but you have to be able to blend in with many different types of people. I may begin my day in jail talking to a felon with numerous tats and end my day talking to a society wife with fine jewelry and a purse whose name I can't pronounce. Both of these clients, if I am to help them, have to believe that I understand where they are coming from even though my background is nothing like either of them.

How do I pull this off? It's not by faking it. Through a lifetime of interacting with people, I've come to understand many different people. As a child working for my parents, I sold jackets to both policemen and bikers. As I grew older, I took advantage of opportunities to get to know people different than I was- sometimes I was the only one drinking beer at a wild party; othertimes, I was the only person that had never fired a gun at a gun show (where I was selling leather jackets).

I learned a lot about the different cultures that my clients come from. I don't pretend to understand everything, but I know enough to allow my clients to fill in the blanks for me. As I might tell the felon, "I don't know what it's like to spend a single day in jail, but I've known many people in your shoes. And I know how to help you like I've helped them."

The essential elements in people that I come across are always the same- we are all looking for similar things from life. Sometimes only the way that we express our needs differs.

I went to a birthday party the other day that was for a writer that I don't know too well, but who has always struck me as a charming and fun person. I must confess that I didn't take my wife to the birthday party because I stereotyped the kind of crowd that I'd be mingling amongst. A lot of artists are prone to philosophical discussions about the strangest things. I once was asked whether I felt like a member of the "Raza cosmica" because of my mixed heritage. So, I expected that my wife would be bored by the over-educated conversation. Instead, I took my good friend Paco- an insurance salesman who is comfortable in every environment.

But, when I got there, the conversations were a lot more light hearted and silly than I expected. I discussed a potential cheesy radio ad with one guy and talked video games (which I haven't played since I was 12) with someone else. It was the kind of soft banter that everyone enjoys. I could picture my wife in the scene with a glass of wine, enjoying the lively banter and telling a few jokes of her own.

The night reminded me again of how similar we all can be.

We do what we can..

There's a Sheryl Crow song that always makes me think. Here are the lyrics:

Downstairs they're playing Kenton
The house set to swing
I lay in my bed
And listen to everything
Cause Leo's in rare form tonight
His trombone sings so sweet
This is the room
Where they all come to meet

He said
I do what I can
I live for the moment
And that's who I am
Yeah that's who I am

And isn't it good
If we could freeze moments in time
We all would
But I do what I can
I do what I can

Downstairs he's playing Kenton
The Magnavox sighs
But oh how the music has changed
In all of our lives
He says "nobody listens
To modern jazz"
And I'll never have what those guys have

He says
I do what I can
I work for a living
And that's who I am
Yeah that's who I am

And it's good to be alive
But everything's different since Leo died
I do what I can

Is this the end of the modern world
What could it mean for a young girl
Who sees the pain on his face
He does what he can

The procession on the TV screen
What could it possibly mean for a man
Who's come this far just to turn around
Could there still be life in Kenton's swing
With the Kennedys gone and everything
Those sad rows of houses with their optimistic colors
Democrat grandparents and draft-dodging brothers
Riots down the street and discontented mothers
We do what we can

Downstairs it's quiet
Less alive somehow
Somehow he was everything that I am now

And he says
I do what I can
I work for a living
And that's who I am
And that's who I am

But it's good to be alive
And these are the choices
We make to survive
You do what you can


The song makes me sad in a way that is difficult to explain. It makes me think about opportunities lost. We make choices to survive and bury our dreams. Sometimes these dreams haunt us late at night. We think, what if? I remember my dreams and sometimes it's painful to consider that their time has passed.

Sometimes I stay awake late into the night and don't even realize that I've fallen asleep until the sound of the alarm clock blares me back to reality.

I think about what was lost by bad decisions, but then I see the sun shining through the window and think that I'm still alive. And like Crow says, "it's good to be alive."

As long as you are alive, there's hope.