Law School, A Plan Comes Together

I had made it to Law School, not the school I planned to go to but at least one that had a little prestige and not only that, I had a woman that loved me and was willing to sacrifice part of her life to show that love and to be with me, could things get better, unlikely, could I screw it up...... undoubtedly!


When I got to England I was excited, law school the long planned for achievement, not only was I far enough from home that the pressure and expectations of my father would be minimized or at least delayed, I would be the novelty, the only Canadian at the school.

The fact is when I arrived in September and went to the orientation, much to my shock and surprise I was up to my ass in Canadians. There had to be at least 15 Canadians from various parts of the country and various backgrounds. Guys like me that accepted the first law school that accepted them, sons and brothers of Supreme Court Justices and lawyers. It did give me pause, was this a really good school despite the explanation that I used to justify my attendance or was I like the doctors son going to Acme University for his medical degree because he couldn't get into a real school, I decided on the first and hoped it wasn't the latter. Nevertheless, I was there, this was law school and Robin was on her way.


The apartment I rented was not exactly the Ritz, actually nothing unusual for a student, it was part of a row house on a street near the school, its own little living room and kitchen, stairs to the shared bathroom and separate bedroom shared with the landlord, not a bad guy who was a widowed steel worker looking to cut his expenses. It was alright for me but when Robin arrived it definitely had to be changed as it was too cold and damp which of course was true but while we were there it was the adventure that I guess we both wanted despite freezing our butts off. As we got used to the damp weather, we had fun and the future if not the weather looked bright.


It was October, Robin had arrived and school had started, we got a new little apartment clean and warmer if not warm, Robin got a job that she enjoyed and as stated the adventure had begun. You would think I would remember it clearly, the school, my life with Robin, the dream coming true but the truth of the matter is a remember very little of this first year until part of the dream ended, from that point my recollection seem clear and the regret painful still.


We were involved in the school and with the other Canadians as well as the locals, we had friends from both groups and a great social life, school was hard and like most first year law students we all thought we knew everything, and could solve any problem. I was consumed by the work, it wasn't easy but it was part of what I had worked whole life towards and I was doing it, however as I was doing it Robin fell into the shadow, probably not the first time this has ever happened in the world but given the sacrifices she had made for me it was nothing but wrong. There was no indications of a problem, no fights, no tears, she stood by me supported me and loved me, I as usual was just too self absorbed to see what was happening.

Then I got a letter from Karen. Now Robin new about Karen, our past relationship and that we were now friends that rarely saw each other or even spoke, she didn't know about the abortion but she knew there was an unspoken connection. She never indicated or mentioned any problem about the friendship nor did I think anything of it when I told her that Karen was stopping over in London on her way to a dig in Isreal and wanted to meet in a couple of months.


There was no problem, no fight and I would like to say that when Robin said she was going home for a couple of weeks that I didn't suspect there was a problem, but I think then and from hindsight now, I knew there was.


About a month later I was on the train to the airport with Robin, we were both quiet and didn't say much except that we would miss each other. If I could ever have a "do over" moment this would be it, that hour on the train, to get down on my knees and beg her not to leave, and in thinking about it I really think she was waiting for me to do it, the final test, the confirmation of that I loved her even though I wouldn't say it. But I didn't, I would like, dear reader at this point to be able to give you some deep and meaningful reason why I didn't, some newly discovered psyhcological deficiency or impediment to my not stating the obvious, but the truth is I was simply a self absorbed idiot that found it easier to accept things at face value that didn't shake up my plan than look to the obvious feelings and pain that I was causing.

She left, and as I called for the next couple of weeks to find out when she was coming back it got harder and harder to get hold of her, then when I did and we were talking I had one of my rare flashes of light or ESP moments and I out of the blue asked how long she had been dating Abe.


I mentioned Abe earlier as my roommate in my last year of University, he was a teaching assistant in the Political Science department, older by about ten years, called a mature student. He was a nice guy, basically full of baloney in that he told me he was ex US army intelligence and spun stories of special missions in Vietnam. I never really believed the stories as he was not the type, tall and big enough but basically a big dork but as guys will do, I just ignores the baloney and went with the flow.


After saying this to Robin there was a few moments of silence and then quietly and hesitantly she asked how I knew......and my world crashed down, I didn't know and don't know why I asked, it had just occurred to me.


The next couple of months past in a blur, I walked through life, perhaps realizing to some small extent the loss that I had just suffered if not the full extent, I did my exams and went home for the summer and to meet and talk to Robin. I had met with Karen, gone to some museums, had a nice lunch, nothing passionate or dramatic, just an afternoon with a friend, another small decision with big consequences. Not the sole reason for the problem but I guess it was the last straw.

I got home and immediately contacted Robin and we met in a local park to talk, she told me how Abe had said I had cheated on her constantly, how I knew I would never stay with her. All untrue but I guess given her insecurities, my fear of telling her I loved her and my self absorbed allegiance to the plan it gave the lies substance and he got apparently what he had wanted for years and I had provided him the opportunity. Did I argue, fight, cry, beg, no, did I deny the lies, yes for all the good that did. We simply said a loving goodbye with a hug. Yes dear reader I was an idiot again and would be again as far as Robin was concerned but if it is any consolation to you, "karma is a bitch"



I walked through that summer in kind of a daze, and then returned to England to follow the plan, always the plan, not too warm at night, but a comfort just the same. It was that at this point that the plan started to get a bit old, my determination a bit weak, my outlook a bit jaded so like any good underachiever I subconsciously if not consciously set about sabotaging myself. Please don't misunderstand, I did not burn my books and discard the plan, I simply made another small decision. I went out on a Friday night, just a block from my house a new restaurant bar, kind of a miniature Hard Rock Cafe. This was a time when fancy cocktails were coming to England and grilled burgers and steaks were all the rage. Someone had opened a small version down the street, called Arnie's American Restaurant and I decided to go there on the opening night to have a burger and a Margarita. I went in and ordered my meal and drink and got a hockey puck on a bun with a glass of lemon juice and tequila. Needless to say I was not quiet about my dissatisfaction, not rude just naturedly critical. They asked if I could do better and given my previous bar and restaurant experienced I said yes. After a night of mixing drinks and showing the kitchen how to grill a burger and make chili I was hired as a part time manager of what was to become a local jet set hangout.


So lets recap, going to law school by day, now working at what was rapidly becoming a jet set hangout, rubbing elbows with rock stars and the rich, new friends, new women and good money too boot, sounds cool and it was. The problem of course is the plan allows for no distractions and law school even less, so of course despite the extra money, the lifestyle had me spending much more than I was making and despite being allowed to schedule my time around school the work it began to suffer and the expectations and pressures of my father that initially were distant or delayed now got very close and immediate. I wasn't failing but the marks had dropped and money was going fast, things that even the most patient of parents would not tolerate and needless to say my father not being that patient made his presence known. Ultimatums were given, the job was abandoned and the plan reinstated in all its obsessive glory.



In hindsight and in light of future events not yet discussed here, I may have been depressed. The loss of Robin affecting me more than I was willing to admit, self medicating myself on alcohol and a champagne lifestyle, sabotaging school as a self inflicted punishment for letting her go, or I could have just been an idiot again, that periodic and chronic affliction of the underachiever.



During this period there were relationships or perhaps more accurately stated as extended acquaintances. Nothing serious, and at worst perhaps a series of sexual adventures . I was in school and I had if nothing else convinced myself that I had been right, that the plan was the important thing and love was counterproductive.


Also during this period I, despite my commitment to the plan, began to get an idea of what I was getting into, realizing that rather than setting myself free I was building a cage, maybe a gold cage, a fancy cage, but still a cage. I have looked at some notebooks from this period and in reading them noticed there is a slight preoccupation with the story of Sisyphus, the Greek myth about a man that due to his hubris nature, lack of understanding of others and his trickery is punished by the Gods. The punishment in its various guises was to push a boulder up a mountain for eternity only to see it fall to the bottom of the other side upon reaching the summit, an excercise in eternal frustration. Maybe I was having another one of those ESP moments or just seeing that the goals of the plan may not be what I wanted or even expected.


Despite the turmoil, the insomnia and the doubts I did graduate, again solidly in the middle of my class. The only joy of this period of school was that there was no perception of the overachiever, in a law school this really doesn't happen, its too competitive, and the joy of being arrogant and self absorbed in law school is that you fit right in with everyone else.

Preamble

The beginning of a blog, I am over fifty, this is something new so I apologize in advance for the newbie clumsiness.

Before I get to the new stuff I think its important to give you the back story, the who is he, where did he come from sort of thing.

Born the first son of a lawyer and a school teacher, the lawyer demanding and semi distant, the teacher, passive aggressive in light of the lawyers strength of personality and personal insecurity's, other than than not a bad childhood, not privileged but comfortable not a genius but smart enough to fool those that weren't. Despite being the first and only son with two younger sisters I was placed in the position of constantly trying to prove myself to my father, while forced into the job of being my mother's confidant in the face of of her frustrations caused by the fact that passive aggressive doesn't matter to someone that has an overdeveloped sense of self entitlement.

I won't go into the childhood, it was average or just below, money while not thrown around was never an issue or at least from a kid's perspective, we always had what we needed and most of what we wanted but with depression era parents nothing was easy or free. School was the usual, always one of those kids on the cusp, start the first couple of days in the average class, moved to the bottom of the advanced class, just enough gab to make the cut. Always sounded smarter than I was, able to answer the question while the gifted kid dealt with his shyness and fear.

While thinking about the previous few paragraphs I was tempted to cut to high school, that bastion of adolescent terror and hormones, but in thinking about it the basics start in Grade Six, scary that the foundation of a life starts so early but as you will see dear reader decisions made then haunt me and set me on a path that has led me to the now, the crossroads so to speak.

Ok, Grade 6, not generally considered the the birthplace of the future but in my case, in its way, the beginning of the end or optimistically the middle. You see, decisions were made in Grade 6 and events happened that shaped my path whether by coincidence or design. First off, this is when people begin to ask you what you want to be, what you want to do with your life, kind of silly I know since back then the only thing I knew for sure is that I wanted a slot car set for Christmas, nevertheless the question was asked and I answered, I wanted to be a lawyer like my Dad.

So, you say, you wanted to be like your Dad, the one individual you were trying to please, big deal, what a surprise, you were in Grade 6, you could have said fireman, astronaut, who cares, aaah my friend you would normally be right, but as I think back on in it, in the light of the present, I heard a click, like a door locking as it closes, unnoticed but an irrevocably closed door just the same. When you go to a small school in a small town with kids that you will see every school day for years to come, people remember, they assume and its easier to let them, meet their expectations and walk the road always feeling you can take the next turn off whenever it comes, laziness and acceptance is an easy road to walk, it requires nothing but a nod and a smile.

Suffice it to say an immature, easy decision set events in motion that if you put up with these ramblings long enough you will see was and is in fact the beginning. Grade 6 held other milestones that illustrate the now.

I was, much to my quiet pride voted Master Courtesy by the teachers and students, a title awarded to someone that was polite, pleasing, held doors and helped others in the school without expectation of acknowledgement or reward. Pretty heady stuff as it was announced to the school, a point of pride and achievement.

So that great day leaving school anxiously thinking of the praise that would be heaped upon me for this achievement when I arrived home I started to walk, yes back in the 60's we walked to school to those readers to young to remember. As I approached the cross walk I received the geers of some of the other kids and one in particular, Glen. Yes I do remember his last name, its sad that I do, moments like this do stick in your mind, God knows why. In any event as we crossed the road he teased and ridiculed and then he pushed me again and again taunting me. I took it and I took it, after all I was Master Courtesy, then I pushed back and told him to stop and he punched me, it hurt but nothing serious and I walked home.

I arrived home and announced to my mother that I was Master Courtesy...., fireworks, drum rolls, gasps of delight, warm affirmation or just acknowledgement, I think you know where I am going with this. Needless to say after the lukewarm response, I got angry, the more I thought the angrier I got, so I walked back to the school and there was the source of my pain playing soccer. I walked up to him and punched him in the nose as hard as I could.....

After it was determined that his nose was not broken the Principal sent me home. I went home and when my father arrived I told him about being voted Master Courtesy, then about being hit and then going back and hitting Glen. I awaited my doom, and it never came, while my honour was dismissed as a middle school gimic the later punch was treated with praise, an appropriate action when dealing with aggression. Ok, I punched a bully, big deal, but even then I knew it was wrong, these events burned in my memory, for two reasons, I lost the title of Master Courtesy and more significantly it was the first and last time I ever raised my hand in anger or stood up for myself personally. And another door closed.

So dear readers, to recap, we have a Grade 6 student that has chosen a profession of confrontation while at the same time renouncing personal conflict. The plot thickens....

Cut to high school, there was Grade 7 and 8 but they were those years of conformity and puberty, the first kiss, the first girlfriend, and the desire to fit in and get more of the same, hormones are a bitch.