*@#!ing

This, my December column occurs in the month when many readers may be vacationing, a perfect time to let it all "hang out" and admit to a flaw in my character. Isn't that di rigueur these days? After writing the two previous sentences, in the first rough draft of this column, I had not yet decided whether I would in fact make such a revelation. Of course, you the reader will know whether I did because what you are reading, the final draft submitted to the Daily Journal, reveals my decision. I mention this as a courtesy to extend to those who have not already done so, the option to move on to some other piece in the Daily Journal. If you do, I sympathize. Like, who cares?

Incidentally, the preceding paragraph proves that whoever the writer may be, most columns, essays, opinions, novels, grocery lists, are not merely written; they are re-written. "Written" includes dictating, scribbling, typing on a computer, an Underwood, Royal or Olivetti. Advice to younger readers who do not know what the last three items in the preceding sentence are: visit the Newseum in Washington D.C. or delve into the past, if young people do that anymore.

These days many people who, in one way or another have been censured, write books, make speeches and give interviews, wallowing in mea culpas. What is the motive behind these shameless revelations? Perhaps it is the effort to save a career shattered on the unforgiving rocks of scandal, or maybe just the irresistible need to be noticed. This is to be contrasted with judicial revelations in the book "Tough Cases: Judges Tell the Stories of Some of the Hardest Decisions They've Ever Made" (The New Press 2018). I reviewed this book in my July 2019 column "Certainty and Solace." In "Tough Cases," trial judges from all over the country candidly wrote about their thoughts, doubts, and fears in presiding over and deciding cases, many of them high profile. To shamelessly quote myself, the book was "a profoundly moving account of judges revealing their inner most feelings and emotions in tough cases. Their riveting accounts of trials over which they have presided compels me to reveal what I have long suspected and suppressed for years: trial judges have the hardest and most demanding job in the judiciary."

That judges are human and not perfect is hardly a startling revelation, one that applies to all of us in all professions and walks of life. And being human reveals what is often the best in us as shown in "Tough Cases." And in other cases, what is the worst. The standards of professional conduct in our respective professions compel us to monitor and refrain from certain activities. But we must take care that the image we seek to project through our profession is not a façade for who in fact we are. When a person in the public eye, whether judge, CEO, writer, painter, actor, musician, is "caught" committing a transgression, whether big or small, it is constructive for others in that profession to develop a heightened sensitivity over how their actions and comments affect others. See Justice Currey's superb "teachable moment" in the recent case, Briganti v. Chow, 2019 Cal. App. Lexis 1168.

But when such sensitivity is carried to extremes, we can lose our personality, our persona, our essence, who we are, For example, and this is not the flaw I mentioned at the beginning of this column, I often hug people on occasion, but only people I know well. My hugs do not discriminate on the basis of gender, race, religious affiliation, or political association. I admit, however, that lately I have been more circumspect concerning the last group. A few weeks ago, I ran into a female journalist I know and shook her hand. She asked in a bewildered tone, "What, I don't get a hug?" Another example: I was walking down the street with some friends and passed a woman acquaintance. I yelled over to her "Hi Honey." I was rebuked by one of our group for such demeaning familiarity. But her name is "Honey."

We are now closing in on obscenity and my flaw, well, one of my flaws -- the use of obscene language. It is one thing to quote obscene language in a judicial opinion without sanitizing it with *@#!ing. A few years ago I invited readers to weigh in on the practice of quoting obscenity, spoken or yelled by witnesses and parties, in a judicial opinion. The overwhelming majority of readers voted it should be quoted if relevant to the issues or necessary to capture the flavor of the narrative. If a police officer asks a defendant a question and the defendant yells an obscenity at him, that obscenity might be quite relevant to what follows.

But by virtue of the judicial office, a judge whether or not acting in her or his official capacity would be well advised not to shout an obscenity when frustrated or upset when others are nearby. So, there you have it. I often utter, shout, bellow, a single syllable repugnant word often, too often. This obvious word is used these days with such rhythmic regularity that it has lost its vitality. Lawyers often use this expletive when they receive adverse judicial rulings. Come to think of it, I was once a lawyer. No wonder.

But unlike others who have confessed to misdeeds, I offer no apologies, no excuses, no pleas for forgiveness. Instead I have remedied my repetitive misdeed by way of a liberating substitute word that is reformative, and subtle; nothing unimaginative like the obvious and insipid "FUDGE!" I do acknowledge however, that FUDGE bears the positive attribute of one syllable. The problem with my substitute word is that it has two syllables. But if uttered or yelled properly with the emphasis on the first syllable, this deficiency is slightly mitigated. This takes some practice. And I must also admit that my substitute two syllable word does not work well when used in the past tense. In this respect even the boring "FUDGE" works better as in, "I'm FUDGED!"

By the way I have gone on record supporting a proposed new rule governing judicial conduct. It would allow judges challenged in a recall election because of an unpopular decision to comment on the procedural and factual basis for the ruling within certain guidelines. This rule may be expanded to allow judicial colleagues to also comment on the controversial or unpopular decision to explain its rationale. If I think a judge or anyone for that matter is the object of unfair criticism and I can speak up in their defense, I will. When I see an injustice I yell... ZYGOTE!

Postscript: Last week one of our premier lawyers David Pasternak passed away after keeping cancer at bay for many years. I did not hesitate to include this postscript about David despite the tenor of my irreverent column. Well, most of them are. And David would insist if I am going to say anything about him, it should be in a column such as this one. He had a curious sense of humor.

He was president of everything including, the State Bar, the Los Angeles County Bar and winner of numerous well-deserved awards. He was a mensch, loved and respected by everyone. The last time I saw David was at a Dodger game with his childhood friend attorney Marc Sallus. Sallus noted that in addition to David's brilliance and warmth as a human being, he was an "adventure." To be more precise, when behind the wheel of a car, David provided passengers an adventure. That is one thing he and I have in common. David, we won't forget you and you continue to be the model we strive to follow. 