Posted on
January 26, 2008 in
It’s been pointed out to me by anonymous commenters at Life at the Harris County Criminal Justice Center that I’m no Dan Cogdell, I’m no Racehorse Haynes, I’m no Gerald Goldstein, and I’m no Pat McCann. Because, of course, I used to believe that I was — and hold myself out as — Dan, Race, Gerry, and Pat. So I’m glad AHCL’s kind anonymous commenters have cleared up some of my identity issues.
Once it was explained to me that I’m not any of those fine lawyers, I started thinking about who else I might not be. To begin with, I suspected that I might be no Stan Schneider, Michael Pham, Mike Ramsey, Walter Boyd, Norm Silverman, or any other Houston criminal-defense lawyer.
It didn’t take much investigation to confirm this suspicion.
More than that, though, I guessed that I’m no Chuck Rosenthal, Kelly Siegler, Rob Freyer, Mike Trent, Murray Newman . . . hell, I realized, it’s pretty safe to say that if there is a criminal lawyer in Houston with a name other than Mark Bennett, I’m not he or she.
Then it occurred to me that the list of people I’m not might actually include some outside of Houston criminal law.
So, after further research, I no longer insist that you call me Ishmael.
I no longer harbor the belief that I’m a Jack Kennedy. Unlike Chuck Rosenthal and Louis XIV, I am not the state (and I never was); nor am I the law.
While I think, therefore I am (or, as Vic might say, I believe that I believe, therefore I believe that I am), I realize that I am not that I am. To the contrary I am (as Rudy Giuliani might say) no altar boy.
I’m pretty sure I’m not David or Sam, whoever they are. Sam-I-Am? No!
I am not America (and neither can you). I, not robot.
I realize now that I am not woman; don’t hear me roar.
Whoever is John Galt, it is not I.
Sadly, I’ve come to understand that I am neither a little teapot, nor the walrus, nor even a rock. I am not a dancer. I am not Shakespeare. I am no Denzel; I am not even McLovin.
Lastly, I wish it weren’t true, but I am not legend.
And that’s the way it was, Friday, January 25th, 2008. Good night.
Descartes walks into a bar. The bartender asks, “How are you tonight? Would you like a beer?” Descartes replied, “I think not,” and he disappeared.
– – – – – – – – – –
Descartes, by the way, would remind you that your existence is proven beyond doubt by your awareness of who you are not. So far, Mark, you’re safe.
– – – – – – – – – –
“I can call you Betty. And Betty, when you call me, you can call me Al.” – Paul Simon
What was that all about???
Mark, you are uniquely you. Good, bad, or otherwise. Can’t really compare you to any other defense attorney I know. Just glad you don’t have the ponytail anymore.
But Mark:
It does seem like you are a poet! And a fine one, indeed.
sg
Mark- you can be me if you want to be.