The Crab Chronicles

An Experienced Paralegal Speaks to Students

My father was president of Toastmasters for many years, and he actually enjoyed public speaking. His last speech happened just a couple of weeks before he died, to the Augusta Rotary Club, when he was named a Paul Harris Fellow. When I was a little girl, not yet in Kindergarten, Mom woke us up very early one weekday morning to watch Dad on an early morning news show in Augusta, where he was talking about The Importance of Making A Will.

She thought we would get a big kick out of Dad being on TV. We did not. We asked to go back to bed. Mom and Dad laughed about it for years.

Dad was a trust banker, so he helped people with estate planning, trusts, etc. and he felt it was important for everyone to have a Will.

[Right, me and Dad dressed for work, about 1986]

I like giving speeches, too. Many people have a morbid fear of public speaking. I enjoy it.

I have been asked to speak to a class of paralegal students in a couple of weeks and I am really looking forward to it, even though it will be by Zoom. I hope the students will enjoy hearing stories of real life scenarios they may encounter. I've been a paralegal since 1985 so I have a LOT of stories.

A few months ago, I published a guidebook for paralegals, Paralegal 411: Tips Tricks and Timesavers for the Litigation Paralegal.

As part of my marketing efforts, I emailed a number of paralegal schools around the country and just asked them to let students know of its availability in case they were getting ready to finish and get their first jobs. I am not a brilliant sales person. I just thought the "soft sell" was my best approach. Apparently it worked because the book is selling pretty well. 

In paralegal school [like law school] about 90% of what you learn is about the law. You learn little or nothing about real life scenarios. Most classes are taught by lawyers who have never worked as paralegals.

So I am looking forward to speaking to the class and giving them the 411 on some real life scenarios.I really enjoy public speaking and I would love the opportunity to speak to paralegal students. With Zoom, it makes it much easier.

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The Winners!

Michael and his friend Munoz won Best Original Dish in the Men Who Can Cook competition today! Munoz is the Sous Chef at Kindred and an incredibly creative chef and Michael has learned a lot from him, even though they don't work together any more. They are still friends. Several people asked Michael for his number and said they would love for him to cook for them! I told him he needs to start a catering business!

 

I told Michael it's ironic that the dish that won [Vietnamese Hot Wings] was invented by a guy originally from Mexico, and a guy originally from Kazakhstan!

The most important things are that Michael learned a bit about how to cook outdoors, and had fun, and all the proceeds went to charity.

 

Mike and I made a Peach Brandy Pound Cake also, and Mike said the slices sold out very fast.

 

The Courage to Love

Control is a funny thing. The more we try to hang onto it, to maintain it, to bend it to our will, the more we learn the price of that way of living.

I have a very close friend and a family member who are highly intelligent, creative, fascinating guys. They are also alone, and that's what they say they want, but I don't think it is, not really.

My friend Andrew (not his real name) is gay. (That's only germane because I don't want to have to switch pronouns.) Brilliant, articulate, funny, handsome, fit -- he seems to have it all. Yet, he has only had one serious relationship in his life. Years ago he was living in Europe and he met a guy and fell in love. As a result, when the guy got a job here in the states, Andrew quit his job and moved back to the states to be with his boyfriend. They set up housekeeping together and Andrew didn't find a job right away. He found himself making dinner and waiting for his guy to get home every night, but that often didn't happen. Boyfriend saw no need to call and say he was going to be late, or eat out with friends, and that infuriated Andrew. After only a few weeks, he packed his things and moved back home to live (temporarily) with his parents. When he told me about it much later I asked why he didn't just get some counseling, try to work through the issues, and Andrew -- normally a very calm, rational person -- got really upset and yelled "I was NOT going to be treated like a housewife!"

Much later, I realized the issue was that for the first time in his adult life, Andrew was in a situation he couldn't control. He couldn't force his boyfriend to be more attentive and considerate. Andrew had gambled a lot, turned his life completely upside down, and his lover wasn't appropriately grateful. That was more than twenty-five years ago and Andrew hasn't had a serious relationship since then.

My relative's situation isn't too different. Let's call him Joe. At age 25, Joe was far from home, working a job in a town where he knew nobody, and met a young lady. She was smart and articulate and she grew up not far from where he did. They got married. For the first year things were fine. Then Joe started to notice peculiar things in his wife's behavior. She would go grocery shopping every day rather than making a list and going weekly. She would feed the cat out of a crystal bowl they got for a wedding present rather than buy a cat dish. Sometimes she would stay in her pajamas all day, staring at the TV, totally non-functional. Joe had decided when he married he would never get divorced, so he just tried to ignore her weird behavior, and "walk it off" which is what guys are taught to do about pain. They weren't successful at getting pregnant but Joe's wife refused to consider infertility treatments or adoption. Finally, after 15 years of marriage, she left. Joe had tried to get her to see a psychologist, or at least go to marital counseling with him, and she refused to even consider she might be bipolar or any other serious malady, so she walked out.

That was more than twenty years ago. Joe has had a number of serious relationships since then but he refuses to consider marrying again. He told me not long ago he was planning to spend the rest of his life living alone and die alone. Complicating matters is the fact that Joe is a heavy drinker and he refuses to get sober.

I love both these guys. They have been part of my life for years. Both are handsome, brilliant, personable, kind -- everything most people look for in a partner. Yet they are both alone.

I think they are actually very fearful of love, and I've tried to analyze that, see if there were something I could say or do to get them to stop being fearful and start taking the huge risk of loving someone.

“The dark does not destroy the light; it defines it. It’s our fear of the dark that casts our joy into the shadows.” -- Brene Brown

Brene Brown teaches and lectures a lot about vulnerability. I have watched her TED talks several times and each time I come away with a better understanding of what it takes to really live an authentic life, to surrender control, and be brave enough to risk getting hurt.

I wish I could get Andrew and Joe to get some counseling, let a professional help them deal with the fear that is holding them back from finding a loving partner. I pray for them both, often. Being vulnerable is scary stuff. I get it. However, we are all getting older, and neither Andrew or Joe have anyone to look after them when they get old and sick -- which is inevitable, no matter how health conscious one is.

I can't spell out a neat conclusion here, but I want to point out that the "guy code" that says it's somehow unacceptable to seek professional help when you have a difficult problem, that code isn't absolute. However, it's actually quite brave to admit you can't control everything in life, and you're willing to take a risk on a relationship. Risking may mean losing, but it's the only way to [eventually] get the loving partner you seek.

I keep praying my guys will only day find their courage, and find someone to love. I love them both very much...

Check out my latest novel, The Wedding Conspiracy, on Amazon.

Working Hard

As a child, I was bad about blurting out inappropriate or odd things at inopportune moments. Sometimes it was funny. Oftentimes, it was not. I liked to push the envelope and was often accused of "talking back" -- in other words, saying rude and/or disrespectful things. My parents had a very low threshold of tolerance for backtalk from me and my brother. I was thinking of that recently while listening to an audiotape of a long-ago Hasty family get-together. My 8 year old voice can clearly be heard saying to my grandmother "But you all were rich Memaw, Mommy said you were rich growing up!"

My grandmother, Wilma Butler Hasty, ignored me and went on with what she was saying. When I heard myself years later I cringed, because I could imagine the awkwardness of how my beloved grandmother must have felt. She grew up in a wealthy family, yes, but in the 1920's her family lost their money. My grandfather lost his major league baseball job in 1924 and went out west and played for minor league teams for years, before coming back east, and then in 1929 everyone lost everything.

We can all complain now about inflation and high prices but the Great Depression was far worse.

At that point in my life I had no idea what the Great Depression was, or how hard my grandmother had to work, for years, first to keep food on the table when times were tough, then to put her children through college. Finally, in her 60's, she stopped working a regular job but she worked hard as a seamstress, sewing dresses for me and my mother, and other family members. Memaw made all of my school clothes, for years. Little girls had to wear dresses back then, and children's clothing wasn't cheap. Memaw had 5 granddaughters, 2 daughters-in-law, and many siblings and nieces, nephews, etc.

I was blessed that Mom told me many stories about the remarkable lady I called "Memaw." She was an amazing person. Smart, funny, energetic.

I wanted to share three anecdotes about my grandmother, that made a big impression on me.

When I was  about 7, Memaw said to me: "Always do your VERY BEST, every day, Dee. Always. Then at the end of the day, FORGET IT. Then you can sleep." She was right. If you always give every task 100%, you don't have to worry about regrets. I'm sure there were things in life she regretted, but she didn't dwell on them. She just did her best and got on with it.

VERY valuable life lesson, there.

Memaw may have grown up rich, but she lived through The Great Depression of 1929-39 and she had three kids to feed and a husband who restlessly changed jobs about every year. They didn't always live in places with indoor plumbing. There wasn't always any family around to help.

During the Great Depression, Mom told me, hobos [homeless men] would often come to the back door of the house asking for a handout. Memaw never just gave them handouts. She would ask them to do something, and then give them some food before sending them on their way. The chore might be pulling weeds, or sweeping the porch, or whatever they could do, but she never turned anyone away hungry. Of course, most of those men were just out of work, not alcoholics or mentally ill. They were usually just good people who were trying not to starve. Mom said the hobos would carve symbols or numbers into a tree or fence or somewhere in front of the house to signal that it was a place with kind people who might give a person a meal.

When Mom was small, at one place where they lived, there was a tiny school but there was no cafeteria. Every day at noon the kids were given an hour to walk home and eat lunch and walk back. A lot of those kids had no lunch waiting for them at home. Memaw got together with other mothers and worked out a plan so each mother would take a turn every week or two, and bring food to the school and serve it to the kids. It might be only a sandwich and an apple, or a plate of beans and cornbread, but each child [in the entire school] got fed, each day of the school year.

My mother was a wonderful storyteller, and I was so lucky that she told me many stories about Memaw. I am thankful I knew her, and she spent a lot of time with me when I was a child.

Memaw worked hard, but she also laughed a lot, and she raised her children to be hard workers, but also to hold onto their sense of humor and to not dwell on past mistakes or misfortunes.

Most importantly, she had an abiding faith in God, and she passed that along to us all. She didn't just talk the talk, though. She was kind and generous to everyone, and although she could be a bit demanding in restaurants she was never rude, and I never heard her raise her voice.

The older I get the more I appreciate her profound influence on me. I wish I could have a visit with her. I have an audio clip of her telling a funny story and occasionally I listen to it, just to hear her voice. I played it for Michael yesterday and he listened thoughtfully and said "She sounds a little bit like Granny." So true. The apple didn't fall far from the tree.

I still talk back, and still occasionally put my foot in my mouth, but I apologize and I don't lose sleep over it.