Mitchell’s Malarkey

MITCHELL’S MALARKEY By: T. Mitchell Panter

Lewis Thomason, P.C.

DO YOURSELF A FAVOR: DON’T READ THIS

Yeah, I know. I’m not Jason Long. If you read last month’s edition of DICTA, you know that our beloved Jason finally called it quits on his delightful (yet aged) column, Long Winded, after 22 years at the helm. For reasons I still don’t understand, Marsha asked me to take up the baton. Those of you who know me are wondering the same thing: why this guy? To that I still have no clear answer.

I fully acknowledge that I’m the last person who should be given a platform to speak my mind. Don’t get me wrong. I have lots of thoughts, and I love sharing them. Doing so in such a public way, however, has consequences, and I’m running out of employment options in the Knoxville area. [Thank you again to those who’ve taken me on so far.]

In addition to the professional risks attendant to writing this column, it also comes with potential legal consequences. To my knowledge, as a written trade publication, DICTA is not an FCC-moderated communication. Nevertheless, legal liability likely extends to my preferred use of small but forceful words not usually fit for public consumption—save after 10:00 p.m. and on cable T.V. To that point, and although DICTA’s publication guidelines severely limit my lexicon, and I make no guarantees that my future columns won’t, at a minimum, have placeholders for offensive words that otherwise have no satisfying synonyms.

More important that my professional reputation and personal liberty, I’m afraid of the constant comparison to Jason. That’s a losing game. Jason is an exceptional writer, attorney, leader, father, and friend. He’s funny. He’s creative. He can tell a story. Meanwhile, I lose thoughts by the second, tend toward See Spot Run constructions, and love a classic fart joke. I stand no chance of living up to Jason’s legacy. Still, when Marsha calls, we answer.

So, in anticipation of writing my first installment in this series, I engaged in a deep, archeological dig of Jason’s columns for inspiration and to see just what did Jason talk about for all those years? It turns out that the answer to that question is pretty simple: nothing, absolutely nothing.

I don’t have a precise number, but I’m comfortable saying that at least forty percent of Jason’s columns began with one of two apologies: (1) one to Marsha for submitting his article after the publication deadline; or (2) one to the readers for having nothing to say. Having reviewed his body of work in close succession, I can also confidently say that Jason and I are kindred spirits in at least one respect: neither of us appear to commence any task until the day of the deadline or, even worse, sometime thereafter [I’m literally writing this at 9:32 a.m. with a 4:00 deadline].

Although Jason described Long Winded as “the ramblings of a desperate man,” which is objectively true, they weren’t all bad. In fact, through those ramblings, Jason shared many poignant moments, filled with candor and good intention. He was often totally and hopelessly vulnerable. He’s been brave enough to share his troubles with aging— including the unsolicited receipt of emails for such things as Viagra, Cialis, and hair-loss treatments—and his struggle with body image after his son, James Robert (then 4), unapologetically told him he “has a big belly!”

Amidst those musings, he’s also given practical advice—even touching on matters of public health. For example, in response to the ever-rising cost of healthcare, Jason offered several recipes for low-cost, home remedies that our members could use to treat ailments ranging from the common cold and headaches to asthma and sleeplessness. This article, which remains one of my personal favorites, encouraged readers to consume a cocktail principally composed of dried peacock dung, white wine, and bruised millipedes. Mmmm, doesn’t that sound delicious? In addition to his health suggestions, Jason routinely encouraged all of us to follow every lawyer’s dream of changing professions. In one of many articles on this topic—cleverly titled “Brother Can You Spare a Dime?”—Jason made a compelling case that being a lawyer does, in fact, result in some transferrable skills. For example, he convinced me that being a reality show contestant is a viable option. After all, and as Jason put it, “Odds are you will surrender your dignity to get hired, but a case can be made that [all of us] do that on a daily basis anyway.” So true, Jason. So true.

Thus, while I am not and could never be Jason Long, now having reviewed his body of work, I have grown more comfortable with the idea of writing a monthly column that provides absolutely no benefit— personal or professional—to our members. And although my column may lack the panache with which Jason approaches his work, I can promise that if nothing else, I will use this space to accomplish these tasks: (1) make you dumber; (2) embarrass myself; (3) apologize for missing publication deadlines; and (4) publicly question why I’ve been given this opportunity in the first place. I’ll also do my best to avoid passing along recipes that call for any form of animal feces, although no one can make that guarantee with a straight face. After all, the curative powers and cultural significance of various animal dungs are well documented (thank you, Ace Ventura: When Nature Calls).

To conclude, I’ll leave you with these comments. To Jason: thank you for forging this weird, uncomfortable path and for providing us with a trove of useless knowledge that has no real-life purpose or application. To Marsha: I understand completely if you want to rescind the invitation to author this column. To the editorial staff: Please reconsider your position on profanity. And most importantly, to our readers: My apologies. You clearly deserve better. But don’t be too discouraged. This won’t last long. I quit most things after (at most) three years. Just look at my resume.