In the two-and-a-half-plus years since I officially hung up my briefcase and became a full-time writer/editor, I've lost count of the number of times I've been asked: "Do you miss it?" ("It" being practicing law.) And every single time, I respond immediately with a resounding "No."
Which, quite frankly, surprises me. I really thought I would. I'd put in the three years of extra schooling (and incurred the hefty student loans) to obtain the degree, studied for and passed the bar (in both Missouri and Illinois), and busted my butt for close to 30 years preparing and trying cases. There is no denying the adrenaline rush that accompanies a courtroom victory or receiving an appellate decision in your favor.
There's also this (perhaps unwarranted) gravitas that comes with laying claim to being a lawyer. I used to joke that whenever I'd meet someone new who asked what I do, and I told them I was an attorney, they'd instinctively take a step back — as if I were going to slap a subpoena on them. When people know you're an attorney, they come to you — with legal problems or law-adjacent problems they need to discuss in confidence. There's a level of respect accorded lawyers even while we rightly remain the butt of countless jokes. Yes, we've simultaneously earned a somewhat sleazy reputation — and yet, when people need your help, they're glad to have you on their side.
So why don't I miss it? Because it's hard — sometimes gruelingly hard. Being a litigator, in particular, can grind you down so completely with stress that you don't even remember what "normal" feels like anymore. There's a reason studies show lawyers have an extraordinarily high suicidal ideation rate and struggle with mental health.
The thing about being a trial lawyer is that it tracks the truism: "That which doesn't kill you makes you stronger." It hones your critical thinking skills, your ability to think on your feet, your ability to speak extemporaneously, your ability to relate to people — to charm them and persuade them to your point of view. At least, if you're any good at it.
I can't rightly recall when I first became aware of Kamala Harris — surely, I heard her name a time or two when she was the California attorney general. For certain, by the time she was a U.S. senator, I knew of her — knew she was a former prosecutor and AG. I didn't pay particularly close attention to her tenure as a senator, aside from her star turn in the judiciary hearings regarding now-Supreme Court Justice Brett Kavanaugh. She struck me as sharp and poised — and politically formidable. (In hindsight, I realize that was likely compliments of great staff who gave her well-written scripts to work from.)
I was rather surprised to see her wilt during the 2020 Democratic primary. But I've been utterly baffled at the performance she's turned in as vice president. How is it possible someone who served as the San Francisco District Attorney and the California AG could be so vacuous? Did she fall and hit her head? Was she high?
Her three-month stint as the shiny new Dem nominee has done nothing to assuage my concerns on that front. Oh, she's given a decent (scripted) speech here and there — and she did manage to have her talking points fairly well memorized for the debate. But that's it. Beyond that, she's lost. Unmoored, unserious, unconvincing.
And it aggravates me to no end. No, I was never going to vote for her — her politics are utterly divergent from mine. This isn't about my vote.
It's about how it feels to have been a litigator for nearly 30 years — to have invested all the blood, sweat, and tears that I did — and see a Great Pretender try to sell the country on her being this tough, gritty prosecutor, who's "taken on transnational gangs" and "knows Donald Trump's type." She's cosplaying at what I was for nearly three decades — and doesn't have the decency to even put in the work necessary to make her case to the American people.
Wednesday evening, as I saw clips come in of her CNN "town hall" with Anderson Cooper — saw her flailing about like a deer out of water, a fish in the headlights...I started seeing red. And it finally came to me why. So, I went on a bit of a rant on X/Twitter — which seems to have struck a nerve.
I've been trying to think of how to express and explain my irritation with Kamala Harris (setting politics aside). I know I've spoken of this at times on air (@NewstalkSTL), but watching her with Anderson Cooper at the town hall tonight really brought it home to me.
Being a lawyer is hard. Being a litigator is extra hard. It requires you to fully dissect and understand your case - the strengths and weaknesses; to be well-prepared and well-acquainted with the evidence; to have prepared your client and witnesses thoroughly; to be intimately familiar with the Rules of Evidence and the Rules of Civil Procedure (or Criminal Procedure, if you're a prosecutor) and well-acquainted with the local rules and the typical practices of a given venue and in a particular courtroom; to anticipate your opposing counsel's approach and whatever tricks they may have up their sleeve; to understand the theory of your case and to have a detailed outline of your case, such that you can present it in a logical, persuasive fashion to the jury; to know how to question the jury during voir dire and build a rapport with them while getting them acquainted with and primed to favor your client and your theory of the case; to present an opening statement that makes them want to hear more from you and inclined to give you/your client the benefit of the doubt; to conduct thorough, salient direct-examinations and pointed, impactful cross-examinations; to corral your experts and use them to fill in whatever blanks your lay witnesses and evidence may leave; to always be ready to object to the other side's shenanigans; to read the judge and know when he or she is going to cut you a break or slam the door in your face and pick your battles wisely so you don't embarrass yourself in front of the jury; to stand in front of a courtroom of people, including (usually) 12 jurors (and an alternate or two) who are, by that point, tired of it all, and present to them a compelling closing argument - one that may last 30 minutes, an hour, or longer - when it's just you talking, monologuing, trying to close the deal.
It's endless hours of prep time and stress. It's driving home at 2:30 am after a full day of doing battle and then more hours of prep time, and falling asleep in your suit on the couch, only to get up 90 minutes later, shower, fix your hair and makeup, put on a different suit, and head back into the office to prep some more before another long day of trial.
It's sometimes just about killing yourself to do it all and present a solid case and bring home a win for your client (or "the people" if you're a prosecutor).
It is hard, hard, mean work. But it toughens you up, and it teaches you how to think on your feet and withstand blows from a combative opponent (and sometimes a disgruntled judge) and how to stand in front of a room full of people and make your case persuasively and get them to agree with you.
Kamala Harris has demonstrated none of those skills. And yet, she insists she has that background - and that she is qualified to be the leader of the free world.
I call bulls**t. Complete and utter horse hockey. She's a phony-a** fraud.
I'd never be happy to see Kamala Harris become president — neither because of nor despite her being a woman and regardless of her politics. Because she's demonstrated repeatedly that she's not competent — not at her current job and not at the job that supposedly prepared her to become President of the United States.
I don't honestly know how many cases Kamala Harris ever tried as a prosecutor. I know it likely wasn't many. I know Harmeet Dhillon has some pretty damning receipts regarding Harris' "origin story."
I know the evidence that she ever argued an appellate case appears to be lacking.
I also know the same is not true for me — the cases I argued before appellate courts in Missouri and Illinois come up when searched.
I know how hard I worked to be a good trial attorney, and I know what it took out of me. And I look at Kamala Harris pretending to be this fierce prosecutor to sell people that she's qualified to hold the most powerful job in the land, and I know it's complete and utter hogwash.
She is, in every sense, an empty suit.