Mr. Goose

29 Apr

Mr. Goose

by L. Stewart Marsden

The other day I had an experience that reminded me how rude those in positions of authority can be when they wield such power.

One of my sons, who is well on his way to a record-setting traffic ticket all-time high, needed me to cover his attorney’s fee. Yes, I know all the reactions to this, believe me, from enabler to bad, BAD Parent!
Regardless, I drove to his lawyer’s office to make the payment. As I stood at the receptionist’s window, the primary attorney of this small father-son firm wandered into the area, looked at me, and said, “Thank you.”

“For what?” I returned.

“For helping me to make my mortgage and car payments,” he grinned.
“This is for my son,” I explained, not anxious to be cast in the role of an offender/client. “And we’’re going to do everything in our power not to pay for any more of your expenses.”

I was pissed! The anger steeped in my head all the way home and into the night until it split from the ends of my fingers onto my keyboard.

I knew what he meant. He meant I am a fool for doing something I needed a lawyer to defend me for, or arbitrate with a judge. Which is basically true.

It was the way he said it.

We will call this lawyer Mr. Goose. It rhymes with his real name. I’d run into Mr. Goose in the past, when I used to cover court as a reporter. A fine spectacle of a man who honked and bleated his way around the front of the court, Mr. Goose waved his arms and basically demeaned his clients before black-robed judges.

“Your honor, a plea for judgment! My client, who is an idiot and who may or may not learn from this experience, looks for mercy from the bench.”

Then he would turn to the poor waif of a man/woman//teenager, dressed as well as Goodwill Stores allowed, standing and awaiting judgment, and say,

“And he will not EVER dare to repeat such an offense again!”

To which the waif would look down and nod with repentance.

I can only imagine how Mrs. Goose tolerates her husband’s patronizing ways. Maybe the money is good. His is the first name that comes up when those who run afoul of the local law, or Highway Patrol, find themselves charged with various blue-collar crime. While he’s not an ambulance chaser, he’s damn close.

I suppose Mr. Goose to be a one-time wannabe who had aspirations to be a partner in a multi-million-billion-gazillion legal firm. Or, be elected to the district DA position, and then state attorney general and then governor. Or not. Perhaps he’s a settler, and prefers his role in court, twirling about and sashaying on the small stage before an audience of offenders and their parents and girlfriends and such.

Mr. Goose
Played it loose
Until he strangled on his noose.


Karma. One can only hope he and his ilk are indeed rewarded in kind.

They’re like turkey vultures, I guess — providing a necessary function in the cycle of life. You just don’t want them too close.

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