Small Town Life

School Day – Law Day

/ Bruce Cameron

A little Madness in the Spring Is wholesome even for the King.-Emily Dickinson

It’s May 1st, it’s cold, windy, and snowy. It’s spring on the great northern prairie and it’s Law Day. Law Day – one of the many obscure holidays that litter the calendar and are observed only by a very limited community – is that time of year when this nation stops and reflects on our society’s “respect for the law that is so vital to the democratic way of life” (36 U.S.C. § 113); in other words, a good excuse for a bar association luncheon – an event slightly less exciting than leaping over the Beltane fires and a bit more capitalistic than a International Worker’s Day parade recognizing the  struggles of workers who were killed or oppressed in their fight for better wages and working conditions.

For the local rural high schools, Law Day is a time when teachers reach out to local lawyers to help with civics classes – however passe civics may be in the large sprawling metropolitan school districts, rural schools still take civics seriously and around here, it is still a graduation requirement. So, thanks in part to the local bar’s civil education committee’s match making, I spent last Thursday talking to high school juniors & seniors about the rights of the accused and due process – the hardest part is not compressing all that I remember about due process into 30 minutes, the hardest part is the question and answer session afterwards – the students are much more interested in how the law applies to them rather than the abstract concepts of procedural and substantive due process. So, I found myself straying from my prepared materials into subjects ranging from entrapment, probable cause, search and seizure, and whether or not its fun to be a lawyer. Tough going for this civil lawyer, but at least I walked away with a great educational experience – learned quite a lot from those kids, I hope they learned a little something too.

So, here’s wishing you a happy May Day, International Workers Day, Labour Day, Loyalty Day, Beltane, Roodmas, Obby-Oss Festival, Walpurgisnacht, Första maj, Lei Day, and Law Day (that’s one handful of celebrations for one 24 hour period).

Hey, I Knows Dis Guy See

/ Bruce Cameron

The other day I found myself visiting a business networking group and thinking about the meaning of referrals. For those of you who are not familiar with this particular marketing beast, networking groups are social gatherings in which business people meet, practice their elevator speeches on each other, and (hopefully) pass on a referral or two. These groups can range from (in my sister’s oh so appropriate words) “micro-managed, by-law abiding exercises in pedaling in place” to useful opportunities to build one’s referral network.

The $64,000 question that comes with every referral comes down to “can I vouch for this person?”A referral says that I trust this person, that I know this person is competent. Since my referrals are going to reflect on me – the rural grapevine will be quick to remind you of the time the plumber you referred Joe Bob to caused Joe Bob’s drains to all run backwards – I want to have a track record with my referrals; these are people who pass the “mom test” – someone so reliable, competent and trustworthy I’d have no trouble recommending them to my mother.

Sure there are non-referral referrals – you know the ones where a client asks “do you know someone who…” and you hand them 3 or 4 names of “guys who might be able to help” in an effort more to promote good will with your client than to actually foster a business relationship. The non-referral referral lacks the implied warranty of an actual referral, is much more polite than a curt “can’t help, go away”, and seems the reason d’être for these business networking groups – a 60 second elevator speech, even if given on a weekly schedule, is not a foundation for a true referral.

Those Good Ol’ Boys

/ Bruce Cameron

Call it a clan, call it a network, call it a tribe, call it a family. Whatever you call it, whoever you are, you need one. Jane Howard

That the good ol’ boy network is alive and well in rural communities should be no surprise to anyone. Nor should it surprise anyone that breaking into that network is going to be hard for outsiders – an outsider being anyone whose family has lived in the community for at least 3 generations. And frankly, in most small towns there are multiple networks and most consist of dedicated competent people – the days of the rural good ol’ boy network simply being a system used by the incompetent in an attempt to retain social position and power are, for the most part, past.

Seen from the eyes of this male outsider, there are a few ground rules one must know before the doors of any one particular network will begin to crack open. They are: Continue reading →

Haircuts And Practice

/ Bruce Cameron

I had, the other day, the need for a haircut – an event that is becoming less and less an occasion with each passing year – an stopped by the local barbershop for a trim. Now, for the male population of a small town, the local barbershop is, for all intents and purposes, the equivalent of a day spa; a place to be pampered (or at least the grizzled male version of pampering) and to discuss the important issues of the day – the fate and future of the local sports team, the weather, crops, the market (farm, not stock), and the general competence (or lack there of) of various and sundry notables.

Now, while waiting for the number 2 chair – general barbershop etiquette, one would never presume to occupy the number 1 chair for just a “sides & back” trim – I had the chance to observe that solemn male ritual of the barbershop shave. Now this is no scrape the foam off with a multi-bladed techno-marvel kind of shave, this is soap and lather, hot towels, cold steel and steady ands kind of shave; there is the scent of danger here, an element of suspense when, at that first critical moment when 4 inches of keen edged surgical steel starts its initial glide down the cheek, conversation quiets in tribute to and recognition of that briefest moment of panic that lights the customer’s eye before fading into contentment as the steel safely starts its downward journey.

That moment of panic, however fleeting, found a echo in my memories – there reflected in those few milliseconds, was the essence of my state of mind during the initial days of my practice. From what had seemed like a good idea moments before the key was put into the lock and the rubicon was crossed now had morphed into  doubt cascading over dread, roiling over uncertainty – exhilaration, calamity, wonderment and elation all warring for recognition, for resolution – leaving an intense rawness behind that has faded into the contentment of a journey safe begun.