Blockheads

Several posts ago, I told you about a film project that Nate and I had been working on--complete with a poster. The pitch was for a live action version of A Charlie Brown Christmas, complete with some quasi-artistic liberties. Well, it seems that we were not alone in having Charlie Brown as our muse or envisioning him in a more violent, urban light. When Anna and I went to visit my brother, we saw this painting:

It actually has nothing to do with Charlie Brown. It was in a series of paintings with different colors, and the series as a whole was quite striking. While I'm talking about artistry, I'd like to announce that Nate and I, the dudes that brought you Rhubarbicon, are developing a new comedy venture. I'm not going to be giving any hints right now, but I'll let you know when you should start reading and where you can order a promotional t-shirt.

Treasures of the City: The Library

I read a lot of blogs about Cincinnati, and I've noticed a common thread that runs through all of them: defending the city. It seems like the city's biggest cheerleaders are always shouting "De - - - fense, De - - - fense." While I do believe that the city gets more than its fair share of media attention, I don't think that all of it is unfair, unwarranted, or inaccurate. I criticize things about the city as well because I see so much potential here. When you are not a Cincinnati native and interview for a job here, you'll often find that people simply can't believe that you would want to live here for an extended period of time.

Cincinnatians, there is no need to be self-conscious. You actually live in a city full of treasures. Things aren't perfect, but the city is so much better than it was when we lived here three years ago. In an effort to do my part, I'm going to take a different route than playing defense. I'm going to tell you what makes this city great in our eyes. First up: Cincinnati Public Library.

Cincinnati's Public Library system is a 41-branch behemoth. Currently, we live only one block away from the Main Branch in downtown. This branch, as of 2008, moves four million volumes per year--the highest circulation of any single library in the United States. In short, the library is huge, encompassing two city blocks.

It is hard to describe how extensive their collection is. Whenever I hear about a book, a DVD (feature films, documentaries, concerts, anything), a CD, any type of media, I send myself an e-mail so I can remember to search for it in the library's database later. I would say that the library has that particular volume 19 out of 20 times (and I can always get an inter-library loan for that other 1/20). When I was writing my MM thesis, I didn't go to the school's library. I did almost all of my research in the public library's archives just one block from our apartment. I became quick friends with the librarians who were able to (1) point me to any obscure volume that I thought I needed, (2) tell me about resources that I didn't know existed, (3) and research any question that crossed my mind along the way. The people and the resources are simply astounding.

The library also has tons of computers for people to use them. I think this is great because it is helping (at least in theory) to narrow the gap between the haves and the have-nots. The library also hosts programs to teach people how to use new technology. A few weeks ago, I heard the program announcer come over the loudspeaker and tell everyone that the "How to Use Twitter" program could squeeze a couple more people into the room.

For the month of July, I spent, on average, at least seven hours per weekday studying for the bar in the Main Branch. I wouldn't recommend the "Quiet Study Areas" since they are anything but quiet. Also, don't sit near the high school year book section in the genealogy section as it is oddly/creepily popular. Still, there are some great places to hole up and get some work done if you know where to look.

On Finding Myself in the Bar Exam

The moment that it finally set in, the moment that I realized I was taking the bar exam, was in the middle of the morning of the second day. The morning task was 100 questions on a variety of legal topics. After a long day of essays the day before, I was surprised that the "rush" had carried into the second day. I was answering the questions like a well-oiled, bubble-filling machine. Then it happened, a hair from my head landed on my testing booklet right on top of question 62. I was in a room with 1177 other test takers, and I wasn't sure how many thousands of other people were shedding into their testing booklets all across America. How much total hair, I wondered, would be collected in the July administration of the test? I bet they just throw it away when hair actually has significant potential to help clean up oil spills or reducing the need for herbicides. After these thoughts, I realized, for the first time really, that I was in the middle of a difficult exam. Time was of the essence, and I was sitting there thinking about human shedding.

As promised in our last post, I'm writing today to tell you today about my trip to Columbus. I rode with my buddy Dan up to the Hyatt in downtown Columbus so we could walk to the testing center. Our thoughts were along the same path: "because the test has so many unknowns, control the elements that you are capable of controlling." We took a huge cooler that Anna had packed so we were sure that we'd have food. The night before the test, we timed ourselves to see how long it would take to get to the testing center. We even got to go inside the building and peek into the hall to get a feel for how it was going to go down. We went back, grabbed some food, and then we reviewed some notecards while watching a National Geographic special on Charles Lindbergh--who actually led a disturbing life.

The test was in the North Hall of Veteran's Memorial. Imagine a Sam's Club warehouse with all of the merchandise removed and filled with 600 or so tables for the 1177 applicants. That's what this place was, the perfect venue for a gun show or a baseball card show.

Upon entering the hall, you are quickly branded with a label: computer or handwriter. Handwriters went to the right, computers to the left. I figured that I would never see my computer friends again, but a lot of them broke through the social hierarchical construction and ate with us handwriters at lunch. It was like West Side Story without the lame snapping ("get cooly cool, boy") or the comical dancing/fighting routines.

When I arrived at my seat--Seat 186 (see diagram)--I discovered a long table with a metal folding chair at each end, facing the opposite wall. You see, you share a table with someone - - - unless you're me. The guy that was supposed to sit next to me must have backed out, and I had a table to myself for the entire three days. I'm not opposed to sharing, and I don't think anyone had a terrible seating partner, but I was grateful that I had my own domain and could stretch out a little more.

At the head of the room was the director of admissions for the Ohio Bar Association. She maintained control of the scene, which could have been crazy. I was really surprised by how easily the test was administered, and the organization was great. While you were writing on one set of essays, the next set would be there waiting for you when you finally craned your neck up to see what was going on. The best feeling came when I finished my last essay on Thursday. Before I looked up, I had the wonderful thought that there wasn't going to be another set of essays waiting to be completed. When I finally unlocked my neck from the down position, I found a Hershey's Kiss. It seems like a simple gesture, but, after three days of testing and stress, it was the best.

All in all, the test was tough but fair. I got a lot of strength from knowing that, even in this very North Hall of Veteran's Memorial, so many had gone before me to do great, great things:

Examples and Explanations: The Bar Exam

. . . and we're back.

I apologize for the long delay between posts, but the bar exam was an all-consuming task. Now, life is closer to normal again. I wanted to spend one, and only one, post explaining the bar exam process. I'm going to write a follow-up post about my trip up to Columbus for the actual task.

After graduating from law school, there is very little satisfaction from completing the task. This is because the true gatekeepers to the profession are the bar examiners of each state. So, the week after graduation, I started taking bar review courses in a program called BarBri. This program costs a few thousand dollars and includes several books of substantive outlines and practice questions and lectures from law professors on all of the topics. I took the bus up to the University of Cincinnati's College of Law every day and listened to live lectures or taped lectures that hit the highlights of the material for about five weeks straight. While I did learn a lot of the topics in law school, the bar exam is quite different. Here are the topics that the Ohio bar exam covers:

• Civil Procedure
• Criminal Law*
• Criminal Procedure
• Contracts
• Business Association (Agency, Partnership, and Corporations)
• Commercial Paper*
• Secured Transactions*
• Evidence
• Constitutional Law
• Wills*
• Professional Responsibility
• Torts
• Property

The asterisks note the classes that I didn't take in law school. Fortunately, these particular topics were easy to pick up. I actually loved Wills and wish I had taken it in law school.

The Ohio bar exam is a 3-day exam. The first day is a series of six essay questions in the morning, and you get thirty minutes to get something down on the paper or computer screen (I chose to handwrite my exam). You get the essays two at a time, so the tricky part is to apportion the right amount of time to the topic depending on its demands. In the afternoon, the bar examiners provide two, closed-universe, practice-based essays that you get an 1.5 hours each to complete. Basically, you get a "memorandum" from your hypothetical boss that tells you about a hypothetical client with a hypothetical problem. Then, you get to read a few made-up cases and statutes that give you a few rules that you might or might not use. Then, you get to see your client's hypothetical case file that includes interviews, letters, and anything else that might provide relevant or irrelevant facts. Then, your job is to follow directions and put some final product together for your hypothetical boss. I found these exercises to be the most enjoyable part of the exam.

The second day is a multiple choice test that most states have adopted: the Multistate Bar Examination. This six-hour test covers six major topics in 200 questions. If you want to answer a few questions from a sample test for giggles, click here (the answers are at the end). I recommend question 15 as a "typical" or "average" question in length and difficulty.

The third day is another set of six essays (again, thirty minutes per question in sets of two). The Ohio bar examiners group the substantive topics into 11 testable areas, and you will get a question on each of those areas. After Day 1's six essays, you know exactly what topics are going to come up, but a topic (probably from the first day) will repeat. I heard one person refer to this as "the grab-bag question." It was like nails running down a chalkboard. "Grab-bag" sounds ridiculous, and I hate the way it rolls off of the tongue with its shallow vowels. "Toss-up" might not be as appropriate or evocative, but it feels more robust and adult.

So, that's the basic explanation of what the bar exam is. If you have any questions, please stand up and wave your arms (what you do at the bar exam if you're [1] in need of proctor assistance or [2] dying).

Quick Update: Google Voice

Greetings, all. I know that we haven't posted in a while, but August is right around the corner. We'll hit the ground running then. The bar exam studying is going well, and we're in the process of closing a sale on our house.

We received our Google Voice invite the other day, and we got a pretty sweet number. I'll try my best to contact all of you in August and get our new number out there. However, you can use the new number now by using the widget over here on the right of the screen. The process is quite simple:

1. Click on the "Call Me" button.
2. Input your name and number (you want your phone by you).
3. Click "Submit."
4. Your phone will ring. Pick it up.
5. Your phone will then ring our phones.
6. Hopefully we'll pick up. If not, feel free to leave a message!

That's it. Easy enough?

Blast from Someone Else's Past

The other night, I junked out on PBS (I love the News Hour). There's a local show about Cincinnati events. For some reason, the show played a long clip from Hamilton High School Class of 1956's 50th High School Reunion DVD. It looked like everyone was having a great time--particularly one lady (featured in the clip). The very beginning of the clip is from the dinner performance by The Avalons (here's their updated website). Nailed it.

I hope my 50th high school class reunion is just as magical to me as this lady's was to her. Bye, Y'all.

Blast from the Passed: Chanson des Voyageurs

I've played in several groups in my brief time on this planet. In recent years, I've played with The Prodigals and was a voice in The Rhubarbitones. After three years of law school and getting so close to the end of the law student chapter of our life, I realize how I sometimes miss making music on a daily basis. I was talking with my buddy Joel about his ever-growing music career, and I remembered how we used to sit in the computer lab at Samford or stand on various stages and work on creating music for hours and hours and hours. Will I miss it? Definitely, but I didn't go through law school without gigging a little. Let me introduce the greatest law school band that there ever was (look for me on the drum kit; we were "rebuilding"):

We only played together three times (though we're hoping to get some Franklin Pierce alumni meeting gigs). Our school has an annual show, and we served as the house band for all three years. Every year, we had a little different lineup in the group, but our core consisted of Dan "Flashy Fingers" Landau, Nate "The Meat" Harris, Gaelan "Pretty Mouth" Flannery, and Austin "Dry Spell" Padgett.

We made some great music together, and we had a strong following in the Greater Concord region (which includes Concord Heights). In fact, it would be safe to say that we were the best law school band in the South-Central New Hampshire area.

We were known as The Tortfeasors from the the beginning. Though we thought of other names (e.g., The Attractive Nuisances), we adopted the perfect band name. With any other name, we would have had to practice more than we did. We practiced as little as possible because the annual show was always scheduled right after midterm exams.

While we were known for the soul-searching lyrics, soaring vocals, and sparse textures in our music, we also had a reputation for wearing awesome "get-ups." In the picture above, we came out for our final set--after an evening of bow ties and corduroy jackets (with elbow patches)--wearing track suits. Man, we looked amazing. Historical/Editorial Note: The drum set pictured belonged to the school. Though we abused it (turning it over, etc.), it deserved a better fate than what the school gave it.

I will miss playing with these guys. My favorite days in law school were spent with an instrument in hand.

Final Note: I read this post to Anna, and she said that it sounded "sad." To be clear, I love what I'll be doing in law. It is actually a creative outlet, and I love helping people figure out how to best protect and get what they want out of their work.