JUSTICE BUILDING BLOG

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Saturday, December 14, 2019

PARTY PARTY PARTY

EPISODE THREE: A NEW COLD WAR 

Yes three parties in the title. Because on the day when triskaidekaphobia runs rampant, Friday December 13, the SAO, RC3 and the PDS all had their holiday soiree. 

Can't we all just get along? 

A long time ago, in a galaxy far far away, there was a day when the PD party was the only game in town. When PDs, judges, and ASAs gathered for drunken bacchanalias that entered into lore of the REGJB- "did you see the judge and the court-reporter? Aren't they both married?" 

But those days have faded faster than a sideways lingering and longing glance in the #metoo movement. 

Now our State Attorney frowns upon fraternization between her droid-assistants and Mr. Martinez's ragtag band of heroic defenders. 

What is she worried about? That prosecutors will get drunk enough to admit "the whole we have to do what the victim wants stuff is crap, but if I don't do it I'll get fired." 
Or that a prosecutor will engage in a liason that will end with pillow talk "we really don't turn over everything we are supposed to in discovery, but don't tell anyone." 

In any event, gone are the days Ronald Regan would have a late night scotch with Tip Oneill and talk about the days events without partisan politics. And gone are the days when a PD and ASA could sit in bar and discuss the results of a trial without their colleagues whispering behind their back with recriminations about the company they keep. 

So now each legal office, whose lawyers hold the fates of hundreds if not thousands of Miamians every year in the decisions they make and their ability to communicate and influence the other side,  are separated by  a new cold war- one fostered by the "chiefs" in their office who are too young to understand the value in being able to pick up the phone and call the other side or sit down over a Cuban sandwich at a small Cafe and settle a case. 

No, in their world of Starbucks  and binge-watching Netflix, they send cold texts  between bites of their Postmate-delivered burrito while pausing a movie on the DVR: "I cannot offer you a plea to anything other than the Max because that's what the victim wants". 

Comity is a word they have to Google because it wasn't on their SATs, LSATs, or the bar exam. And going to the other-side's party could result in their termination (via text from their HR department). 

Sad. 

17 comments:

Anonymous said...

I know I'm an old guy and this is totally unPC, but back in the day...there was nothing better than hooking up with a prosecutor before trial, then winning the trial, and then having wild angry, hot...you know what...after the acquittal. It was what it was and if you don't allow this comment you are ignoring what routinely happened thousands of times in the 70's and 80's. And when the drug money hit, having those liaisons on your client's yacht or their penthouse condo on Brickell...was just super hot. Wrong , but hot. And if you do not think that happened all the time, and I'm not even bringing up what happened at The Mutiny- you're a bigger fool than I thought.

Anonymous said...

Ahhh the Mutiny. If those rooms could talk. If they had security cameras back then at the pool- most court reporters blended in with the topless gangster drug-molls seamlessly. And I agree, although Janet prohibited it, the odd too-young-to-know-better-ASA would wander over and usually get his/her morals corrupted. Like a fly into a spider web. I saw a few walk out when the lines of coke came out (and much respect to those prosecutors)- but I saw more than a fair share stay and party.
I mean- Bust the Cap on the Moet find a partner to party with and let the good times roll. Glad I lived through those days. Life is short.



Anonymous said...

Ah yes. The era of good feelings and bi-partisanship. I nominate JFK sharing a courtesan with Sam Giancana. "Hey yeah, my brother is trying to put you away for life and my dad paid you $$$ to buy the election, but we can still trade numbers of available female companions." But seriously, the current "cold war" is not healthy. Young lawyers who think they are fighting Armageddon and look upon a conviction like some modern day Eliot Ness will very soon learn, as Al Haig put it, no one has a monopoly on virtue. And to 11:09, I too am un PC to the bone. It is time to bring a little bit Don Draper back to the fold.

#MeToo said...

Old white male chauvinistic pigs. One and all.
Hands off me.
Eyes up Mister-stop staring at my chest.
And most of all, stop just stop imagining my performance in your bed. Nothing would disgust me more.
Treat me as a colleague or an opponent and not a sex object you crumbly decrepit old white dude.

Real Fake Former Judge said...

Love the Al Haig quote. just love it.

Anonymous said...

Anyone remember the Old PD parties at the Coral Gables Junior Women's club
Neither do I

Anonymous said...

Since we are all over the place today, can anyone confirm the rumors that Juanky, the chef at the Ren (a venue) and his Austin, Texas food company Tia y Tio Comida Food group have signed a contract to provide three take-out venues on the club level at Dolphins' Stadium for the Super Bowl?
The Ren ( a venue) inspired dishes will include Wagu (A-7) short ribs; Wagu (A-5) Burgers; Wagu (A-16) oxtail in a red wine (Chateau Margaux 2016 Bordeaux) sauce.
Japanese Uni nigiri, salmon toro stuffed with fried uni; Peking duck dim sum; quail egg dim sum; foie gras dim sum; grilled Kraszewski corn ears from East Hampton;
home made vanilla bean ice cream sandwiches with graham cracker crust; organic rhubarb pie slices; and of course his famous "cuatro leches" refrigerator flan-cake.

Yum

Anonymous said...

At the last super bowl party before they closed they roasted three whole pigs and butchered a whole wagu cow, using almost all parts of the animal. The buttermilk fried chicken thighs, and the pizzas with homemade ricotta cheese and truffle oil was the best. A few slices of pizza and a pitcher of Everglades small batch pilsner was the best.

Anonymous said...

Hey #me too
Your correct, I should look at your eyes, but that handkerchief your wearing is so low cut that the top third of your breasts are exposed and the rest are struggling to escape that tight, almost sprayed on dress, that is so short you can't bend over. I will not even me too those $500 stripper heals and how they tilt your posture to accent your rear

Anonymous said...

I remember a defense attorneys party that took place on the same day that the ASA's had a dry Christmas dinner at the home of one of their chiefs. As soon as their dinner ended, a throng of thirsty ASA's rushed to the defense lawyers' party and had a grand and merry time.

Anonymous said...

Who doesn't remember the world famous holiday parties that Mike Catalano used to throw where judges,cops, prosecutors, public defenders, private attorneys and court clerks joined together around excellent food and libations to celebrate alcohol as their common friend? ASA's, cops and judges lost their inhibitions and displayed their party-animal, fun loving selves for all to see and appreciate.

Tranio said...

Please ye we may contrive this afternoon
And quaff carouses to our mistress' health
And do as adversaries do in law,
Strive mightily, but eat and drink as friends

Anonymous said...

Mike got old. That party was fun. I remember some DUI cops needing a ride home.

#MeToo said...

6:41 PM.... F -off creep. I am not to blame that you didn't get laid in your twenties because you were some fat potato-chip eating nerd whereas I am smart, sexy and have a great body that I work at to show off because I can and it makes me feel young and good. The mere fact you made some flow in your life doesn't mean I would look at your twice, much less sleep with you. Gross.

Anonymous said...

Oh #MeToo, I am slain by the slings and arrows of your wicked tongue.
But your post of Dec. 15th makes my point. You posted
" I am smart, sexy and have a great body that I show off because I can
and it makes me young and good"
Don't be mad that I look at what you purposely put on display.

#MeToo said...

My point is no one says a male lawyer is inviting leers or to be hit on if he wears a tight shirt or a narrow cut Italian suit that shows off his cute butt. But when I wear a tight shirt I get called a slut.

Anonymous said...

No one is calling ypu a slut. If they do their assholes. Just don't object to me looking and enjoying how you look, silently. As long as I do not make rude comments, can we agree I get to look ?
As to guys, few would object to you making a comment about their cute rests.