✏️ Legal Pad
One Question Too Many
A few years ago, I tried a case where the defendant took the stand and put on a masterclass of how not to testify. During cross-examination, he started to unravel. He was flustered, inconsistent, and clearly making things up. Things that didn’t even make sense. Every answer dug the hole a little deeper. The jury could see it, I could feel it, and it was one of those rare moments where the witness is doing your work for you. It’s like playing basketball against a toddler.
But with a situation like that, it’s easy to get greedy. I should’ve let well enough alone and sat down with a dismissive “that’s all I have for this witness, Your Honor.” Instead, I committed the cardinal sin of cross exam: I asked one question too many.
“How come,” I asked with bravado, “after three years, this is the first time I’m hearing this?”
Without missing a beat, he answered: “Well, you never asked.”
There was an audible laugh from the jury box, and I quickly asked some other meaningless question to keep things moving. It wasn’t devastating. It didn’t undo the case. But it gave him a moment, just one, where he sounded reasonable. And that’s all it takes. Jurors don’t need perfection. They just need a foothold. And a laugh at my expense.
We won the case but the lesson stuck. Cross-examination isn’t about getting every answer you want. It’s about knowing when you already have what you need. There’s a difference between pressing an advantage and overplaying it, and the line between the two is thinner than most lawyers like to admit, and one you don’t know exists if you don’t try cases.
Sometimes the best question is the one you don’t ask.
💡 Sidebar
Snow, South Carolina–Style
Against all odds, South Carolina survived another snowstorm. Roads closed, schools shut down, and for a brief moment we all acted like we lived in Minnesota. Somehow, we’ve managed to rack up a snowier winter than Utah, which feels statistically impossible, but here we are.
Around here, snow recreation looks a little different. Boogie boards get pulled behind golf carts. Cardboard gets a bath in cooking spray and conscripted into sledding service. Helmets are optional. Enthusiasm is mandatory.
And in true South Carolina fashion, it’ll be in the high 60s this week. Like a good cross exam, South Carolina weather keeps you on your toes.
⚖️ Closing Arguments
I’m hopping on a plane to Key West tomorrow, which means that I’ve been listening to more Jimmy Buffett than usual, which takes some doing. One of my favorite songs is “Tin Cup Chalice.” It’s one of those songs that transports you to a particular time and place unique to the listener. The song isn’t about ambition or chasing the next thing. It’s not even about a physical location, it’s about contentment in the moment, which was (and is) Buffett’s greatest talent. His ability to distil that feeling and project it to millions of fans is why his music is so enduring.
For me, that chalice is going to take several forms over the next week. It’s the cup of coffee on the porch with my wife while watching the sun come up over the ocean. It’s the ice drenched bottle of Corona at the Green Parrott with my dad. And, most importantly, it’s my daughter’s nighttime cup of milk as we read Goodnight Moon.
Jimmy’s superpower was selling escapism to the masses. The reason he was so commercially successful is because it works. My Spring trial docket is stacked and I’m looking forward to teeing up those cases and fighting for clients who deserve it. But, in the meantime, I’ll be sipping from my tin cup chalice and enjoying the here and now.
Court is in recess- see you next Friday.
