Sunday, May 22, 2011

Submitted for Your Reconsideration

Perhaps another reason why I am a Yankees fan who - while being incredibly pissed off initially over Jorge Posada's decision to opt out of the game against the Red Sox last Saturday night - has had little difficulty getting over it, is because my personal, professional experience is a case study in the significance of the second chance.  Perhaps when I look in the mirror, I see what Posada sees.  He has bigger ears than I do but then again I have significantly more gray hair.  We are not looking to revise The Patty Duke Show so not quite identical is close enough, thank you very much.

Two-plus years ago - on January 28, 2009 - I exited the Firm for what at that time I believed would be the final time as an employee.  The lure of greener grass, coupled with was an ever-increasing and ever more palpable feeling of frustration over what I was doing and where my career as a lawyer was going, led me out the door.  Moments after it closed behind me and the new door opened before me I realized that I had made a mistake.  Fortunately, having been at the Firm since January 5, 1998 and having done work that I can say immodestly was at least serviceable for those eleven-plus years, when I realized that I needed to be there and the Firm - to a lesser degree - realized that it was better served by my presence than my absence, when an opportunity presented itself to reconnect we did. 

My final day at my "other job" was May 22, 2009.  Two years ago, Memorial Day came early.  My final day there was the Friday leading into the Memorial Day weekend.  But for the willingness of my Partner Howard - who manages the department in which I work - and Paul - the Firm's Managing Partner - to extend me a second chance, while I know that I would not have lasted two more years at the other place I do not know where Skate would be parked these days (although I suspect in a ravine off of the side of a deserted stretch of highway somewhere). 

On this, the second anniversary of my final day of my "Winter at the Reservoir", please join me in a toast.  Let us raise our glasses - or coffee cups - to forgotten bygones.  They are, after all, the very best kind.


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