Spring Sprang

Williamsburg is in spring mode. Not officially, perhaps, but I can’t call 60+ degree temperatures “winter.”

And, true to form, the season is coming in like a lion. A storm rolled through this week bringing high winds and at least one tornado. The tornado warning was a first for me (in previous years we’ve had tornado watches, meaning weather conditions indicated the possibility of tornados; the warning means someone saw an actual tornado). I was driving to school when the radio emergency announcement came on with a list of the high danger areas. Williamsburg wasn’t on the list, so I kept driving. I arrived to find the law school as empty as a ghost town, except for a few of us who had just wandered in. (Most of the law school population had congregated in the basement of the library.) I went to my classroom (which had been abruptly abandoned by the previous professor) and soon thereafter received the all-clear message from emergency services.

I later heard that there was damage north and south of us and a tornado out west, but my little corner of Virginia escaped any harm.

The other big news of the week is that I now have Virginia license plates on my car. I’m sad to give up my Utah Arches, but I am fond of the Don’t Tread On Me snakes.

Reasonable People

Oh happy day! It’s jelly bean season! (I like jelly beans.) (A lot.)

So one of the major buzz words in law school is “reasonable.” The concept of reasonability pervades the law. A day rarely goes by without me reading a case or a statute where the outcome was based on what a “reasonable” person would do.

It sounds straightforward, but it’s not. Because reasonable people can disagree. And they frequently do.

Sometimes the disagreement seems insignificant . For example, my Admin Law textbook noted that the FDA and other interested parties once spent nine years on a peanut butter regulation problem: whether peanut butter should be 87% peanuts or 90% peanuts. I’m not sure that question deserved the nine years it was given.

Other disagreements are a bit more significant, such as Obergefell v. Hodges, the Supreme Court’s opinion from the same-sex marriage cases, which we read recently in Family Law. The outcome of that ruling is a very different society than would have resulted from a ruling in the opposite direction.

Of course, reasonable people could disagree with me even on the importance I attach to the prior two examples. Some might say the 3% difference in peanut butter composition is significant and the societal results of Obergefell are not.

Welcome to the lawyer’s bread and butter. These things are what keep the legal profession humming.

What keeps me humming, however, is a big bag of jelly beans. It’s reasonable to eat a bag of jelly beans in a day, right?

Tidbits:

• My professor, who likes to use visual aids, didn’t have a picture of the actual teacher involved in a case we read recently. No problem, though; he just used a picture of Professor Quirrell instead.
• That same professor was very excited when we read a case about WIC chocolate milk regulations. As we discussed the case, he pulled out (and drank) the visual aid for the day: a bottle of chocolate milk, which he had been anxiously anticipating all morning.
• In Privacy Law, we’ve been discussing wire tapping and related technologies. To help with this, my professor has used stick figure illustrations. It is very helpful. Never underestimate the usefulness of a stick figure.
• Also never underestimate the staying power of Schoolhouse Rock, which is a useful bit of shorthand for the legal methodology of enacting legislation. (“I’m just a bill . . .”)
• Family Law recently emphasized the stroke of marketing genius that is the diamond engagement ring. The diamond industry has successfully co-opted the engagement business in a relatively short number of years. Well-played, De Beers, well played. (We had a very fun engagement ring discussion in class. Engagement rings raise interesting legal problems when the engagement breaks off; was the ring a free gift or conditional on fulfilling the marriage contract? Who gets to keep it? Does it matter who broke off the engagement?)
• And I met a distant cousin today. Her ancestors were the Partners of Henrieville, UT, one of whom married my great-great aunt Mary Quilter. It’s a small world, especially when your family hails from Henrieville.