blog.cuyler.com

A few months ago, I took a deposition in Boston of an expert witness in a large insurance coverage case. Although it was winter, a trip to Boston is always enjoyable. The dep was held at a law firm that had a great view of Boston Harbor. We had expected a fairly sizable crowd, but as we waited for people to arrive, plaintiff’s counsel and I realized that nearly everyone else was apparently attending by phone.

As with every other element of modern technology, there are certain rules and courtesies that I propose as we venture in to this practice. Some are just common sense and easily recognizable. Some may not be. And some may just be the rantings of one who has been brought into this marvelous age kicking and screaming by his children and law partners.

So, as I overindulged on the coffee, soda and danish that was piled up on the side board and which obviously was meant to feed 15 and not 4, I began formulating these rules for phone attendees:

1. Get and circulate the call in number yourself. Don’t expect the people who made the effort to get on a plane, hail a cab, wait for an elevator did all that to make your life easier. Those people who plan to attend by phone should be the ones who obtain and circulate the call in number. Don’t expect the people who made the trip to get the phone set up. We are not the ones who need a conference phone in the room either.
2. Arrange to have the phone set up and in working order before 9:00 the day of the dep. Those of us in the room don’t have any need for the conference phone that may or may not be in the room. You do. Besides, chances are that the conference room phone will have a secret 20 or 30 digit number, that no one will know. There is also a good chance that when the dep is about to start, the only person we know at the firm at this point is the nice receptionist at the front door who knows neither the code nor how to use the conference phone. She will have to find an attorney in the office to help us out who will then have to call the IT person to get it working. This takes time and we’re that much closer to missing our plane home.
3. E-Mail the reporter your information. Once we have secured the necessary clearance to call in, the reporter will then request the appearances of those on the phone. In order to save time, it may be preferable to have the reporter give everyone her e-mail address and send her your necessary information. Most times the reporter will insist you give them the info over the phone anyway, along with whether you want a full transcript, mini, or CD of the dep. Keep it simple. We are the ones who have to fly Logan to Newark on a Friday night, while you’re already home.
4. Don’t start calling the firm to see what’s going on in the dep room. We’re going as fast we can getting you your fancy pants phones and whatnot. We’d appreciate a little patience while we do the heavy lifting.
5. Put your phone on mute. We don’t want to hear your keyboard, your Blackberry, your conversations, the NCAA basketball tournament on your computer (which we’d rather be watching, too, but we’re here working) or — for you “telecommuters” — your kids or dog.
6. DO NOT PUT US ON HOLD. It’s bad enough that we have to listen to Michael Bolton, Kenny G, or some other form of Lite FM, but when you don’t come back we can’t start with the music playing. At that point, we have to tell everyone to disconnect and call back in again. When you finally realize you are disconnected and have to call back in, we will hear that beep, ask who joined and then deduce who had the lousy hold music. Those of us in the room will then laugh quietly. Don’t embarrass yourself.
7. Don’t send emails with questions you want us to ask at the dep. If its that important, make the trip or ask the questions yourself.
8. If you do ask questions by phone, see above about catching planes. In all likelihood, the question you asked was already answered while you were out getting coffee in the firm lunch room, watching last night’s episode of “The Office” on your computer, or trying to get your dog back in the house.

Were you ever afraid to speak in front of the class in high school or College? I can remember my senior capstone (thesis) in College. Part of my thesis was a written paper, while the other half was a presentation of my topic in front of invited guests, faculty, and fellow peers. Just the thought of it still makes my stomach queasy. Standing in front of a room of one hundred or more people is enough to give anyone that boost of adrenaline.

I was nervous and excited at the same time. As I watched my classmates approach the podium, I searched for signs of anxiety such as sweat, stuttering, or anxious movements. Most of them just read their speeches and decided not to face the crowd. Then I looked at the crowd, some were gazing into everlasting space, some were nodding off to sleep, some even had their eye pasted on the delicious fruit platter across the room. This crowd needed a jolt of excitement. But how can I make a historical topic about the 60’s movement a jolting experience? Suddenly, it was my turn.

I marched to the front determined and scared. I put my notes on the floor and opened with the following statement: “My topic is about Movements in the 60’s and by the looks of the crowd, I can see that most of you were living in that period.” There was a silence… and then all of a sudden a burst of laughter came from the entire crowd… I completed my speech off the top of my head and received rave reviews from the audience. Thanks to my offensive yet effective ICE BREAKER.

Fast-forward 10+ years, the New Jersey Young Professional Organization is having its annual Networking Party at a trendy lounge in New Brunswick. Having forgotten all about my lesson from the past, a co-worker and I decided to attend the event for networking purposes. When we arrived, there were hundreds of people with tags showing their name and occupation. Our next thought is: What do we do now?

We stood there and contemplated on ways to Break the Ice and introduce ourselves to groups of people who were already engaged in conversation. I could feel the anxiety start to draw as various questions came to mind: What’s the best way to approach groups? What if they are in the middle of deep conversations? What if I look or sound really awkward? etc… Suddenly, a young gentlemen strolled by and immediately my co-worker Jaclyn noticed his name tag which read: “Janet, Ms. Jackson if your nasty.” We immediately started talking to him without any worries because somehow this humorous approach made us more relaxed. Although awkward and hilarious, his name tag attracted us to him; it made us feel comfortable enough to put our guards down and approach him. What a brilliant idea, if you lack the ability to approach others, to think of a clever way to have others approach you.

Lesson learned for standing out in crowded situations: Make yourself known, stand out, be clever, be energetic, and most of all be Yourself. The worst that can happen is rejection, and guess what? You will survive, there will always be tomorrow. So when networking remember to put all your inhibitions aside, relax and project your best qualities, you’ll find the positive responses will outweigh the negative.

Remember sometimes humor serves as the perfect ice breaker that can give warmth to otherwise cold situations.

Thanks to McCarter & English, Wilson Elser and Busch & Busch for hosting and all of the lawyers, judges and client-personnel who attended a ”cast party” for the Owens-Illinois case (O-I) at Stage Left in New Brunswick last Friday evening.  The party celebrated the 23 years since the filing of an important and hard-fought asbestos insurance and reinsurance case. 

The case is concluded, but its spirit lives.  If that spirit could be bottled, the entire Bar should be offered at least a sip.  (In fact, if you’re in New Brunswick this week, take a peek in the window of the restaurant.  There may still be some stragglers in there!) 

O-I was a rigorous a litigation work-out.  It involved a lot of money, novel and contentious issues, and a group of lawyers and judges with skill levels  approaching their egos.  Great fun. 

What all enjoyed Friday evening was the affection, respect and camaraderie resulting from having worked hard together on something special.  Former adversaries and allies, some of whom haven’t seen each other in years, ate, drank, joked and told fibs with the same vigor that we once litigated.    People flew in from around the country and joined the fun.  

Recently, I suggested in this space that lawyers getting together and partying might be as beneficial a pathway for New Jersey’s Mandatory CLE program as any alternative under consideration.  I now wish to formalize that suggestion for consideration by the Committee.  Without doubt, Friday’s event was among the most useful CLEs I have been to, right up there with having had the opportunity to do my job alongside this talented and personable group of lawyers, judges and clients.        

Imagined Monologue: “An Inarticulate, Self-Consciously Ironic Voice of His Twentysomething Generation Makes an Opening Statement for His Client in a Corporate-Fraud Case.”

“Over the next few weeks, the prosecution is going to trot out a lot of so-called “experts” and “witnesses” and “my bitter ex-girlfriends”—kidding! Except how crazy if Kelly or Jennifer actually did come in and was like, “You should totally vote guilty…”? Anyway, I urge you to ignore them as you would a call on your cell from your parents badgering you about getting a real job, until you finally go to law school more out of resentment and desperation than any real desire to study the justice system and make a difference, even though, sure, given the choice of making a difference or not, I’d take the former, but still …”

Imagined Monologue: “My Workplace Eulogy, as Given by My Boss, in Office Jargon.”

“… It has been said you’re either an assister or a resister. Eric Feezell was the former, and needed to meet his early demise like I need a hole in the head. Of the bananas we’ve got, he was definitely more of the green variety, still fairly new to the ways of things. Irregardless, he will be greatly missed.”

On November 2, 1987, Cuyler Burk opened our doors with five lawyers who left their traditional firms to strike out on their own. Stephen Cuyler, Jo Ann Burk, Richard Crooker, Michael Jones and Peter Petrou (along with secretary Marian Kelly) hung their shingle at 44 Whippany Road in Morristown, and a dynasty law firm was born.

Over the next week or two we’ll be sharing some stories from those past twenty years. We hope you visit often, or sign up for our RSS feed (by clicking on that giant orange icon on the right, there) …