The great poet Lowe’s once asked us to “build something together.”
I don’t know as much about building as I do about poetry, but I enjoy the sentiment. That sentiment, as I understand it, is that we should buy stuff at Lowe’s. Perhaps we should.
This has nothing to do with Lowe’s or even building anything in the physical sense, though.
For nearly two decades I’ve fought the war against the war on drugs. I’ve been the only person in the room saying nice things about murderers and thieves for nearly 17 solid years. I’ve used science like the doppler principal and occupant kinematics to disarm police in traffic court since the y2k1. I’ve used “technicalities” like the 1st, 2nd, 4th and 14th Amendments to keep the government from doing things the founding fathers say they shouldn’t since Destiny’s Child’s Independant Woman Part 1 topped the charts.
A lot has happened in that time. I worked as an assistant public defender. Then I didn’t. I went solo. Then I had a partner. Our office burned. We advertised in the phone book. The phone book went out of business. Then I went solo again.
Despite all the change, there’s been one constant: If I wasn’t doing criminal law I probably wouldn’t be a lawyer. I like this stuff. It’s a part of who I am.
Despite that, if I couldn’t have fun at this job, I wouldn’t do it. Life is too short to not have fun.
Fun is a relative term- for some it means knitting, or listening to the Beatles or maybe even golfing. I’ve tried all of that and none of it does much for me. While I do have plenty of hobbies outside of work (some might say “too many” but they don’t really know how to live), my on-the-job fun tends to manifest itself in ways that more politically astute people might consider self-destructive. I like to use the law to stir the pot and don’t really care if the political machinery pushes back– which is not the chosen path of future judges, politicians or power brokers.
While you think that likely does not affect you, it may.
My career has reached a point where it needs to take another turn- a turn for growth. My practice is stable and focused (both substantive and geographically). I’ve got healthy and varied streams of new clients. I’m getting good results.
As a solo practitioner I’m completely independent, have a decent amount of work flexibility (I don’t take every case that comes in the door), and have done a great job keeping operating costs low. I have zero complaints with where I’m at now, and it’s been working out great for my clients.
I know, however, that there’s a point at which the growth is quelled by virtue of the “fast and light” way I operate. I honestly don’t know how close I am to that point. I know, however, that it feels like I’m getting there. That’s not necessarily bad.
So, it’s time to mix things up, and mix them up for the better.
The trouble is that I don’t know what that change necessarily looks like. I only know what I want on the other end. At the top of that list is the ability to keep having fun- my own brand of fun in my own way, obviously.
In exchange I’m willing to work my tail off, do a lot of the work others likely don’t want to touch (appeals, anybody?), and keep sticking up for people the government doesn’t value. I’m assuming that if you’re read this far you’ve seen me in action and already have some idea how I do things.
How can we get more of these Twitter “where is the proof [of anything]” people on Grand juries?
— Matt Haiduk (@matthaiduk) July 12, 2017
On that note I’m actively seeking opportunity. My plan between now and the end of the year is to talk to as many people whose practice may be in the same place… pointed in the right direction, looking to hit the gas and wanting to talk about doing it all on a bigger scale.
I might hire an associate. I might partner up. I might take my practice to an established firm with no criminal defense practice. Hell, if somebody wants to throw enough money at me and take all the administrative work off my plate I’d consider being an associate (although expect I would put the “ass” in associate- just because I’m possibly working as an associate doesn’t mean you’re immune from my wonderful opinions).
If I can’t put the right thing together, I’ll just keep motoring along as I have been… Which doesn’t bother me in the least.
Do you think we could or should work together? Let me know. We can talk. I’m happy to talk to anybody and see what the options are.
If you’d like to talk, my contact information isn’t hard to find. Just know that the conversation ends if it involves phrases like “tone it down” or “you can’t file class action law suits against the clerk anymore.” Life is too short to not have fun.