Remembrances and Forgettrances

(Is that even a word?)

I mentioned last time that Tuesday brought a significant work anniversary I did not post about it on the day itself. I did post about leaving work early that day for my Highland Park musical adventures. Somewhat unusually, I also left work early each of the past two days, for two completely different reasons. All of that and more, coming up!

On many occasions, I’ve remarked about October 1, or the first Monday in October, being the start of my legal career. I wasn’t officially licensed yet, but I'd found a spot in an unfamiliar town, with three other full-time lawyers and a chance to learn specialty practice areas I remain in all these years later. I have rarely spoken about how that firm relationship ended on that 14th day of May, 30 years ago.

Financially and professionally, I was doing well. I’d been admitted to New York's bar and all of its federal courts, became a partner, extended my expertise in Bankruptcy Courts all over the state, and had just filed the largest and best locally known business in a chapter 11 that I ever had.  Those were not enough, though. Once Emiy was in our lives, from the beginning of 1992 on, it became clear that the two equity partners in the firm expected me to be the kind of father they were. The child was to be neither seen nor heard, and absences to take care of her when Eleanor was also working were “just not done.” Eleanor had also had a major falling-out with one of those two after a bad attempt he made to do business in her then job. Those examples only scratched the surface of why I knew I would not be there forever.

By the end of 1993, I was actively looking for a way out, but knew it could not be through a lateral move to another firm in Rochester. The town was too small, word would get back, and I’d be escorted to the elevator as soon as one of them found out. I had gone to school in Buffalo, I had cases here, and I knew enough local attorneys from both of those circles to make some discreet inquiries. The most promising was with a mid sized downtown firm that had no bankruptcy specialist. I received an offer, not to a partnership on day one but at a decent level of compensation. At the beginning of May, I went back to my partners, gave them the news, and proposed some ways we might have the best of both worlds. They did not see it that way, and it was decided that May 14 would be the end of that almost decade long run.  I helped pick and train my own replacement, we agreed to let existing clients decide whether they would go with me or stay, and I believe there was a card and a cake on the last day. In the end, very little of my existing business went with me. They used those two weeks to cozy up to the existing bankruptcy and collections clients and talk them into staying with them; their local presence and continuity were the selling points.  I made my move, wound up taking very little of the business with me, and settled into the new firm in June and our new home in August.

It was not a good fit, and by the following May, I was looking again. It was neither a quit or a firing but a recognition that it hadn't worked out, and we decided to stay in Buffalo while reconnecting with a different Rochester firm. That was a longer and stranger relationship, but I was able to keep my Buffalo clients going into that new position and then, when that firm blew up around 2006, I finally took them all and began the solo effort I should have dared to begin years earlier.

Nobody is left from the Buffalo firm I left to join in 1994; it finally dissolved in 2019 after almost a century of practice. My original firm remains, but nobody is there from when I worked there, my hiring partners all having died or retired. The guy I helped train to replace me is still there, but they long abandoned any of the work I did in debtor bankruptcy representation. They've essentially become a consumer debt and foreclosure shop that I would have been even more miserable working in than I was when it had its original specialties.

That day in 1994 deserves a mention, but in hindsight the riddance in it was very, very good.

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Back to more recent memories- and checking for possible losses of them:

Over the past couple of years, I've started to worry a bit about whether my cognition is getting impaired.  It mostly manifests through forgetting things- keys, wallet, phone are the major contenders, and all of them now have Apple assistive devices to help find them if I don't know where they are, or (long as it's not the phone) notify me if I've sailed out without one.  Results vary: I can't walk into the gym deliberately leaving my wallet locked in my car, or into a restaurant just taking the one credit card I need, without getting one of these-



- yet, as I noted about my last Niagara County journey, sometimes I can be miles from leaving it on my desk and Siri won't say a damn word about it, even though I always leave those notifications in the "on" position.

The other two cognitive things that have me bothered are very short-term memory and mixed-up cerebellar function.  I have no issues with remembering things whether they're recent or from the distant past*- but occasionally I'll try to remember three things and will wind up only clearly remembering two of them.**  The non-memory aspect is one I've had some level of issues with all my life, but it's ramped up in recent years: I'll bring two items to the garage to throw out, one in the trash and one in the recycling tote, and I'll switch them without thinking about it. Or I'll open the left kitchen cabinet when I know full well the plate/medicine/ whatever is in the right one.  None of this gets to functions where mixups matter- gas pedals and brakes, for instance- but I've wanted to make sure that nothing worse is coming.

And so, after a few hiccups in scheduling, I had my first consult at the end of Wednesday with a local (and increasingly national) neurology specialty practice very close to both home and office.  It was mainly for them to listen to the above explanations, and to do some very low-tech testing of some things off the bat. I believe we've ruled out Parkinson's. I took the famous "cognitive test" that a certain former president brags about having "aced"- his had an elephant, mine a giraffe, and "man woman person camera" has been removed from the test because everybody knows it from him having "passed" it.  We talked a little about "baby reflexes," and how they go away soon after birth but often recur. I've got a minor presentation of one: rub my palm and my chin twitches.  There will be followups. They asked if I'd ever done a sleep study; yes, ages ago, in a long demolished Buffalo hospital that determined I had mild apnea. Now they do them at home, and I'll be scheduling one. They will also be MRI'ng my brain, or whatever is up there under all that hair.  Nothing seemed so urgent as to expedite treatment- I explained my insurance situation and how things after November will become much easier for deep dives, and they were fine with a schedule I can manage both timewise and financially.  As with many things, getting started was the hardest part- and between calls, texts and emails, they make themselves almost impossible to forget about.

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A similar unforgettableness arrived that got me out of work early again yesterday. After finishing the workday and getting my hair cut, I had two errands to run.

First was after a call from our vet. They didn't leave a detailed message, but we knew: Zoey was ready to come home.  They'd previously sent a very kind sympathy card, and Eleanor had me drop off an equally kind note to them, thanking them for their thoughts but also reminding them how blessed we'd been to have gotten the extra five years of borrowed time Eleanor helped Zoey thrive through until the very end.

Then I made a more routine run for groceries at Wegmans. When Eleanor worked there, she used to tell me about the many customers who would seek her out, no matter the line ahead of them. I've never done that as a customer except perhaps to check on one of her longtime daytime coworkers who's had major health issues;, but more recently, I sought out one cashier any time I see them on register. I first noticed Annabelle for the earrings- smiley faces, nuclear-radiation triangles, and this time it was limes- but they are always kind, and talkative and helpful.  Having just come from the vet, and after hearing a chat with the prior customer about pets, I told Annabelle where I'd just been and why our sadness was mixed with joy from having had the extra time with Zoey . Not only did I get sympathy- I got a sticker.  And someone's getting a CARE card*** next time I'm in there.





* We joke about how our brains are clogged up with phone numbers from 40, 50 or even 60 years ago. Sometimes, though. all those phone numbers stuck in your head can be useful: I'm representing a company about to file a BK.  The other afternoon, I got a call from a collection agent representing one of its creditors. It's based in Buffalo and I used to do a lot of commercial work on their files back when I was with that old firm before 1994. He wanted me to know they just got referred a second one against my client. I took down both creditor names to be sure I add his agency as an additional notice party.  Then he asked me to take down his phone number. Instantly, I replied “873-XXXX” from the 8,000 times I called them over the years, none in the last 15.  I figure as long as those old phone numbers are stuck in my head, I may as well use them to show off;)

** A recent example: I remembered wanting to post about the few downer moments I had on my Lilac Festival Day; seeing the Chick-fil-A sign at the concert, and passing the de-United Methodist parish on the way, were the two I knew I wanted to include, but damn there was a third. Finally I remembered driving by the soon to be former synagogue on East Avenue. These moments, of the why did I come into the kitchen anyway? variety, usually work themselves out, but I'm hoping this process will help determine whether it's normal aging or something more concerning.

*** Wegmans has a very visible suggestion box, but the employees know, and appreciate, when customers end their visit by asking the Service Desk for the form that lets you leave a compliment for a specific person there who went above and beyond for you. The employee gets a copy of what was written down, along with a token gift card for something like a 5 dollar lunch sub.  Eleanor rarely availed of the food, but always remembered, and talked about with appreciation, when customers did this for her. I don't turn in those compliments often myself, and while there may not be all that much in a smile and a sticker (that photo on the cremains box is of the sticker, not of Zoey), it meant a lot to me that afternoon, and to Eleanor as well, who got teary when I told and showed her.