Peace on earth, goodwill toward men. . . Sean Fritzges, an Army Corps of Engineers worker, pulled into the toll plaza at the Fort McHenry Tunnel Wednesday and the toll collector waved him through. A woman in a car ahead of him had paid his $1 toll and that of another guy in a pickup truck. "She did it as a Christmas present," Sean was told. That's nice, and Sean's delighted and grateful. But, wiseguy that I am, I suggested this woman might have seen him on the road and could have been coming on to him. "Yeah, right" Sean says. "That's what my fiancee's mother said, too."
Sugar and sweetness
At the Giant in the Rotunda the other day, a woman with four kids was going through the checkout and had one item -- a bag of sugar -- she could not afford. (What are Christmas cookies without sugar?) So a cashier named Carol bought it for her, using a neighboring checkout machine. "I can't stand to see that happen," she said to anyone who could hear. "I've been there."
Can we talk about it?
Stephen L. Miles took offense at a recent item in This Just In about the state Attorney Grievance Commission's crackdown on lawyers who use the slogan, "No Recovery, No Fee" when they advertise. That now-prohibited slogan was considered deceptive because, even in "no recovery, no fee" arrangements, some lawyers might charge their clients for certain expenses incurred in the handling of civil cases. Under rules of recent vintage, attorneys are also prohibited from advertising themselves as "specialists."
Miles is sensitive -- in my opinion, a bit oversensitive -- to general complaints about Maryland attorneys who advertise because he's the best-known one.
"Only those who suffer from intellectual snobbery hold [negative] viewpoints toward lawyers who advertise," he writes. "Otherwise, how could we account for the success of so many lawyers who do advertise? Believe me when I tell you that you cannot be an advertising lawyer and be successful merely because of the advertising because it is just too expensive. You have to provide good legal service to receive repeat business."
Miles complains that the Attorney Grievance Commission did not warn attorneys of the crackdown. Despite that -- and the fact that none was found to be charging clients for expenses in "no recovery, no fee" situations -- all attorneys complied with the new rule without putting up a fight. "There is not one lawyer who advertises on television who charges expenses if there is not a recovery," Miles says. "For your information, 98 percent of those who advertise in the Yellow Pages who advertise 'No Recovery, No Fee' do not charge any expenses."
Miles thinks the prohibition against advertising a specialty is "stupid" and "imbecilic." He says the public needs to know the area of law in which a particular attorney focuses his or her practice.
Advertising has many benefits, Miles says. For one thing, there's more competition among attorneys because of it. "I know that [you]," he writes, meaning me, "are not concerned about this because you have the money to lay out for case expenses, but the poor peons beneath you do not. . . . I realize that one has to sell a newspaper and one has to make their columns interesting in order to help sell those newspapers, but one would think that even an editorial writer might want to check the facts before he insults a whole profession. Perhaps one day when someone goes into a law firm with an assault rifle and kills 20 to 30 lawyers and those who work for those attorneys, those in the media -- television, the movies, newspapers -- will be satisfied."
Big hug for little Daisy
The other day in Reisterstown, in the waiting room of a pediatrician's office, there was a quarrel between a woman and her 11-year-old daughter. "The mother was barraging her daughter with phrases that said, essentially, it didn't matter what the girl wanted, she was not an adult and had no rights," said another mother who was there with her 3-year-old daughter, Daisy.
Daisy is the key player in this tale. She kept looking and listening. She felt something for the older girl, who was sulking and silent. Daisy got up, walked toward her and said, "My mommy's right here."
"It was spooky," her mother reflects. "It was as if my child was suddenly recruited as a heavenly messenger. She was saying, 'You seem to need a big person to protect you, and my mother is right here if you need her.' I looked at the girl and her mother, and saw them both smile. Daisy's innocent intervention seemed to defuse the situation. Because she was only 3 -- and because she never said anything so explicit as to insult the mother or judge her -- the mother did not appear to take offense. She kind of sighed and said, 'Adolescence' to me, hoping I'd understand. Daisy got both the mother and daughter out of a tense exchange. They both seemed grateful for the interruption, the distraction. . . . The four of us chatted, and the girl helped me finish reading a book to Daisy, my daughter, the social worker."
Life and politics
Mayor Kurt L. Schmoke, who will run for re-election next year, sent out his annual Christmas card by the thousands, and you can bet most of them went to people who are registered to vote in the city. And you can bet Ellen Sauerbrey will be waiting to see how many come back marked, "Return to sender."