Imagine, if you will, the judge taking the bench in the hushed, wood-paneled courtroom, and suddenly the room bursts out, NORM!
Even writing these words, a smile comes across my face. Not only for the pleasant memory of my favorite part of Cheers, but the idea that a judge might sit on the federal bench, less concerned with the solemnity of his reception than with the product of his efforts, would really be something.
Alas, it’s just a dream.
For a brief, shining moment, the possibility was out there that Norm Pattis might be appointed a United States District Court Judge. I was honored to be amongst the friends he called when the opportunity was first posed. His question was simple: Is this nuts? The answer seemed clear. Of course it is, but how can you say no?
We are offered only so many opportunities to do something meaningful in life. To pass them up is to waste them. It’s wrong to squander such opportunities. They are precious.
One such opportunity is to write a blawg, to possibly change a few minds, or let some folks know that they aren’t alone in their thinking. Another is to walk into court with the accused and bang one’s head against the wall, day after day, in the hope that every once in a while the right thing will happen. And then there is the chance to sit on the big bench and be the decisionmaker, the person who can, with the wave of a hand, stroke of a pen, utterance of a word, make justice happen. How can you say no to that possibility?
When the opportunity was dangled in front of Norm, he reacted as any sane person would. With grave reluctance. Sure, the opportunity was overwhelming. But he wasn’t the sort of guy who had himself fitted for a black robe at 29, just in case. He had dreams of power and prominence. The thought of sitting outside on a beautiful day reading a book brought him fulfillment.
But what about the dark side? Norm Pattis made a career out of speaking his mind, telling the truth as he saw it, and never pulling a punch. I flatter myself to think that I follow in his footsteps. He made enemies. That happens when one doesn’t sugar coat the truth, or keep one’s friends out of bounds. Even friends could be the target of Norm’s barbs, and if they were real friends, they understood and shot a barb or two back at him, to be followed by a beer and a laugh. But some couldn’t take it, and cried about how mean Norm could be. Yes, Norm made some enemies.
To become a federal judge, one needs to garner the support of the state’s federal politicians, particularly the senior senator. That’s who whispers in the President’s ear and says, “do me a favor and appoint my buddy here.” The minimum qualification for being the beneficiary of such a whisper is to not make too many enemies.
After a while, Norm heard back from the powerful fellow in his state, a fellow I might add whose mealiness knows no bounds. His very voice makes me twitch, I find it so grating. Yet, the people of Connecticut elected him, proving that they spend far too much time drinking gin and chatting with Muffy than checking their pants to be sure they’re still there.
Norm made his choice. He will suffer for it. As will the rest of us.
Even writing these words, a smile comes across my face. Not only for the pleasant memory of my favorite part of Cheers, but the idea that a judge might sit on the federal bench, less concerned with the solemnity of his reception than with the product of his efforts, would really be something.
Alas, it’s just a dream.
For a brief, shining moment, the possibility was out there that Norm Pattis might be appointed a United States District Court Judge. I was honored to be amongst the friends he called when the opportunity was first posed. His question was simple: Is this nuts? The answer seemed clear. Of course it is, but how can you say no?
We are offered only so many opportunities to do something meaningful in life. To pass them up is to waste them. It’s wrong to squander such opportunities. They are precious.
One such opportunity is to write a blawg, to possibly change a few minds, or let some folks know that they aren’t alone in their thinking. Another is to walk into court with the accused and bang one’s head against the wall, day after day, in the hope that every once in a while the right thing will happen. And then there is the chance to sit on the big bench and be the decisionmaker, the person who can, with the wave of a hand, stroke of a pen, utterance of a word, make justice happen. How can you say no to that possibility?
When the opportunity was dangled in front of Norm, he reacted as any sane person would. With grave reluctance. Sure, the opportunity was overwhelming. But he wasn’t the sort of guy who had himself fitted for a black robe at 29, just in case. He had dreams of power and prominence. The thought of sitting outside on a beautiful day reading a book brought him fulfillment.
But what about the dark side? Norm Pattis made a career out of speaking his mind, telling the truth as he saw it, and never pulling a punch. I flatter myself to think that I follow in his footsteps. He made enemies. That happens when one doesn’t sugar coat the truth, or keep one’s friends out of bounds. Even friends could be the target of Norm’s barbs, and if they were real friends, they understood and shot a barb or two back at him, to be followed by a beer and a laugh. But some couldn’t take it, and cried about how mean Norm could be. Yes, Norm made some enemies.
To become a federal judge, one needs to garner the support of the state’s federal politicians, particularly the senior senator. That’s who whispers in the President’s ear and says, “do me a favor and appoint my buddy here.” The minimum qualification for being the beneficiary of such a whisper is to not make too many enemies.
After a while, Norm heard back from the powerful fellow in his state, a fellow I might add whose mealiness knows no bounds. His very voice makes me twitch, I find it so grating. Yet, the people of Connecticut elected him, proving that they spend far too much time drinking gin and chatting with Muffy than checking their pants to be sure they’re still there.
It all came crashing down on me the other day. I am told that I will not enjoy the support of the Senator who matters in these things. And my congresswoman won’t extend a hand either. I am dead in the water, it seems, despite the good wishes from folks in New York.I can’t say I’m surprised either. Norm didn’t fit the mold. Nobody who one would really want to sit on the bench fits the mold. But only those who do will get the support of important senators. That’s the way it works. If guys like Norm, or maybe even like me, had aspirations of greatness, we would have to sit in silence and bite our tongue. There is no way we could speak or write openly and honestly without making enemies.
I am not surprised, even if rejection hurts. I’ve thrown so many stones in my life it was hard to believe that some would not boomerang and come hurtling back at me. So in the trenches I remain, free to speak my mind and do as I please. Things could be worse.
Norm made his choice. He will suffer for it. As will the rest of us.
Discover more from Simple Justice
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
Thanks for the kind words
According to Oscar Wilde, “A true friend stabs you in the front.”
You’re welccome,
Your HonorNorm.More’s the pity. Not.
I realized that if nothing else in my life would have this effect, becoming a criminal defense attorney pretty much doomed any aspiration I might have had for the bench. Not for a second has that bothered me much (except in the sense that I wish the world were not so; that I wish justice were actually possible more often than winning at craps, and had a different character than that game).
Unfortunately (this goes to one of your other posts), becoming a criminal defense attorney didn’t just doom any possible aspirations for the bench; it’s also having a negative impact on my respect for the bench.
So, for Norm, it’s just as well. He can be “NORM!,” loved and respected (most of the time, by at least some of his friends), or he could be a member of the bench where so many of his brethren would be daily about the labor of teaching us why the law may be above reproach, but the judges are not.
So are you saying it’s not a pity that Norm’s out of the running, or it is? Like everything in life, there are good and bad, better and worse. Don’t pigeonhole everything blindly when there is a spectrum to consider.