Enough esoteric discourse! How about a few pointers?
If you are planning to assert that the house should be yours, don't move out.
If you are going to argue that the children should live with you, don't leave them behind.
If your spouse tells you that he (or she) will sign over custody to you later, when you are on your feet so it's safe to sign over custody to him (or her) now, don't believe him (or her).
If you live in a nice house, drive a nice car, have a decent television set and your clothes aren't falling apart, don't expect the judge to believe that you only earned $9,000.00 last year.
If your spouse routinely has unexplained missing time, zealously guards her cell phone, has password protected email or routinely deletes her history, figure something is up.
If you have been staying at home raising the children, and the children are pretty much alright and you aren't a raging alchoholic or something equally troubling, expect that you will probably win custody of the children, no matter how much your spouse claims otherwise.
If you've been married the entire time that your spouse has been building up the 401k, figure you are going to split it and 50/50 is probably not far wrong.
Expect to never get away with child support consisting of just buying the children what they need, when they need it.
If you've taken a trip to Vegas, finished out your basement and bought a puppy, don't expect the judge to believe you when you tell him you haven't paid any child support for six months because you have no money.
If you've been cold and distant for years, perhaps sleeping in another bedroom, perhaps blatantly argumentative, perhaps taking separate vacations, don't be surprised when your spouse files for divorce.
If you haven't made a lot of time for your children while they've been growing up, don't be shocked when they choose to live with your spouse (unless they want out for the same reason you do).
And finally, if you are staying together for the kids, through the arguments, the coldness, the loneliness, know that your children might very well follow more closely in your footsteps than you would ever wish them to.
Michael Manely
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Monday, February 8, 2010
"I'll never let you go." The post divorce saga.
Divorce is about cutting ties and moving on, right?
But suppose that, even though the parties are divorced, the ties don't cut and there's no moving on. There's not even moving.
We see that often, the ex-spouses who have divorced but won't, or can't, let go. They are still almost as connected to each other as they were when they were married and their on-going relationship has not worn those years gracefully.
The destructive connections continue despite time, despite new relationships, despite new children. Sometimes even the new spouses become enlisted in the age old struggle. These cases arise as contempt actions, not over monies due or actions required to facilitate settlements, but over a grudge or just enduring spite.
In one case that comes to mind, the parties are still fighting over anything and everything. At this point, their fight centers on the exchange of the children. She won't stay indoors when he arrives. He won't stay in his car. The new husband won't stay out of it; he wants to push his 6'3" linebacker frame around. The parents aren't fighting over the kids. The kids are an excuse for the parents to stay in relationship with each other. The kids are just a convenient tool. I can imagine how much the kids must look forward to Dad's arrival or to returning to Mom's house. "What's in the best interest of my children? Not right now. Can't you see I'm having a good fight with my ex?"
Another case stems from an early 1990's divorce. Many financial ties held the ex-spouses together, but these ties were finally wrapping up, one by one. Just when it seemed there was nothing left to fight about, the parties found something, a paper, a single piece of paper. He should have given it to her. She wanted it. He didn't want her to have it. It just didn't matter. The parties couldn't say goodbye almost 20 years after their divorce. A couple of new spouses and several new kids later, they still clung to each other. You might call that a death grip.
You might think these people are frivolous for fighting in court, but we can probably agree that they are not ready candidates for couples therapy. I'd be the first to say that litigation is woefully inefficent for working through these issues, but sometimes the energy of resolving the legal issues can open opportunities for self reflection, particularly if your attorney is telling you, "you don't want to go to trial over this."
How about this for a litmus test: Can't let go? How do you feel about reconciling? It makes you sick? Okay then, what are you holding on to?
Let go.
Michael Manely
But suppose that, even though the parties are divorced, the ties don't cut and there's no moving on. There's not even moving.
We see that often, the ex-spouses who have divorced but won't, or can't, let go. They are still almost as connected to each other as they were when they were married and their on-going relationship has not worn those years gracefully.
The destructive connections continue despite time, despite new relationships, despite new children. Sometimes even the new spouses become enlisted in the age old struggle. These cases arise as contempt actions, not over monies due or actions required to facilitate settlements, but over a grudge or just enduring spite.
In one case that comes to mind, the parties are still fighting over anything and everything. At this point, their fight centers on the exchange of the children. She won't stay indoors when he arrives. He won't stay in his car. The new husband won't stay out of it; he wants to push his 6'3" linebacker frame around. The parents aren't fighting over the kids. The kids are an excuse for the parents to stay in relationship with each other. The kids are just a convenient tool. I can imagine how much the kids must look forward to Dad's arrival or to returning to Mom's house. "What's in the best interest of my children? Not right now. Can't you see I'm having a good fight with my ex?"
Another case stems from an early 1990's divorce. Many financial ties held the ex-spouses together, but these ties were finally wrapping up, one by one. Just when it seemed there was nothing left to fight about, the parties found something, a paper, a single piece of paper. He should have given it to her. She wanted it. He didn't want her to have it. It just didn't matter. The parties couldn't say goodbye almost 20 years after their divorce. A couple of new spouses and several new kids later, they still clung to each other. You might call that a death grip.
You might think these people are frivolous for fighting in court, but we can probably agree that they are not ready candidates for couples therapy. I'd be the first to say that litigation is woefully inefficent for working through these issues, but sometimes the energy of resolving the legal issues can open opportunities for self reflection, particularly if your attorney is telling you, "you don't want to go to trial over this."
How about this for a litmus test: Can't let go? How do you feel about reconciling? It makes you sick? Okay then, what are you holding on to?
Let go.
Michael Manely
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Putting your pants out.
Today, after church and the traditional lunch stop with my seven year old, I spent much of the afternoon at work, catching up and preparing for the week to come.
Finally, at about 4:00, I got away and headed home. By the time I pulled into the driveway and got out of my car to open the garage door, it hit me: this is a great day to play outside! So, characteristically, I grabbed a rake.
__________
This week, the firm has several hearings and a few mediations, but we have one peculiar case, the kind that doesn't come around very often. The case is peculiar for several reasons, but to my point tonight, this case is peculiar because of the depth and breadth of the lies the opposing party told the Court and must have told his attorney to have achieved the temporary result he accomplished before we were hired. The lies are bad enough that, once we got into the case, his counsel asked the Court for permission to withdraw representation and the Court demanded the Opposing Party appear in very short order to explain himself.
How does someone get into this mess?
So often, litigants think they are smarter than the system. That should be a big red flag for any self-aware person right there. Probably no one is smarter than the system. I've been in this business for over 20 years and I can attest that our system of litigation is exceptionally well designed to find the truth. That doesn't mean that the truth is always found or that the lies are always caught, but savvy attorneys and savvy judges make mincemeat of pants-on-fire litigants every day.
And what compounds the stupid decision to lie is that almost every time the harm from the truth is far less than the harm from the lie exposed. I often tell my clients, "The truth shall set you free," because it does.
The justice system is a human system almost entirely comprised of humans. We in the system often understand why the parties behave the way they do. Our understanding is part of what greases the skids of family law. It is a significant part of what makes divorce process endurable.
Bottom line, if you did it, own it and own up to it. It helps your case and it helps you. If you don't set your pants ablaze in the first place, you never have to put them out.
Michael Manely
Finally, at about 4:00, I got away and headed home. By the time I pulled into the driveway and got out of my car to open the garage door, it hit me: this is a great day to play outside! So, characteristically, I grabbed a rake.
__________
This week, the firm has several hearings and a few mediations, but we have one peculiar case, the kind that doesn't come around very often. The case is peculiar for several reasons, but to my point tonight, this case is peculiar because of the depth and breadth of the lies the opposing party told the Court and must have told his attorney to have achieved the temporary result he accomplished before we were hired. The lies are bad enough that, once we got into the case, his counsel asked the Court for permission to withdraw representation and the Court demanded the Opposing Party appear in very short order to explain himself.
How does someone get into this mess?
So often, litigants think they are smarter than the system. That should be a big red flag for any self-aware person right there. Probably no one is smarter than the system. I've been in this business for over 20 years and I can attest that our system of litigation is exceptionally well designed to find the truth. That doesn't mean that the truth is always found or that the lies are always caught, but savvy attorneys and savvy judges make mincemeat of pants-on-fire litigants every day.
And what compounds the stupid decision to lie is that almost every time the harm from the truth is far less than the harm from the lie exposed. I often tell my clients, "The truth shall set you free," because it does.
The justice system is a human system almost entirely comprised of humans. We in the system often understand why the parties behave the way they do. Our understanding is part of what greases the skids of family law. It is a significant part of what makes divorce process endurable.
Bottom line, if you did it, own it and own up to it. It helps your case and it helps you. If you don't set your pants ablaze in the first place, you never have to put them out.
Michael Manely
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Old School
I was at an event for Georgia State University College of Law tonight when my chief mentor in law school, Tom Jones (yes, the Tom Jones to folks who know trial law) introduced me to some attorneys as being "Old School". Given that Tom is pretty Old School himself, I took that as a compliment. But it got me thinking.
Over 20 years ago, Tom trained me in some of the greatest courtrooms in this State, the old courtrooms of Fulton Superior Court, the ones with the three story ceilings. In that hallowed space, Tom got me ready for my State Championships in 1988 and 1989. In my years since, I've had the immense pleasure of practicing in some of these grand courtrooms, in Fulton County, the old courthouse in Cherokee County, the immense space of Carroll County's Courtroom, and even the fantastic space of the old Bartow County Superior Court Courtroom. The theater of those old spaces calls up the excellence in every trial lawyer. You have to be great in such great space. Every trial attorney ought to cut their teeth in space like that. I think that's what Tom meant by "Old School," bringing it home, Clarence Darrow style.
And if I'm right about what Tom meant, then I guess I am "Old School." I love the Courtroom. I love the theater of the Courtroom, the drama, the art, staying on your toes and several steps ahead of the opposition, crafting the perfect cross to force the witnesses to finally break down in a tearful, "Yes, it's true!"
And there's the rub. As I wrote last night, family law, divorce, etc., is not done well when it is about drama, when it is about vanquishing the opposition. It's best done out of the Courtroom whenever possible. Yet I love the Courtroom.
But the bottom line is, my cases are always my client's cases. It's not my opportunity to play. It's my opportunity to help. And may I never loose sight of that.
As I tell folks though, sometimes, after trying with all my might to help the other side see the merit in mutually arriving at justice, they still won't. The opposition still wants to fight nasty. Well, I can handle that too. And I can handle it then with a clear conscience, Clarence Darrow style.
Attorneys are very focused on professionalism, rightfully so. And I think that's what professionalism is somewhat about: working out the problems whenever you can; and when you can't, bring on the big guns. I think that might be "Old School."
Thank you, Tom.
Over 20 years ago, Tom trained me in some of the greatest courtrooms in this State, the old courtrooms of Fulton Superior Court, the ones with the three story ceilings. In that hallowed space, Tom got me ready for my State Championships in 1988 and 1989. In my years since, I've had the immense pleasure of practicing in some of these grand courtrooms, in Fulton County, the old courthouse in Cherokee County, the immense space of Carroll County's Courtroom, and even the fantastic space of the old Bartow County Superior Court Courtroom. The theater of those old spaces calls up the excellence in every trial lawyer. You have to be great in such great space. Every trial attorney ought to cut their teeth in space like that. I think that's what Tom meant by "Old School," bringing it home, Clarence Darrow style.
And if I'm right about what Tom meant, then I guess I am "Old School." I love the Courtroom. I love the theater of the Courtroom, the drama, the art, staying on your toes and several steps ahead of the opposition, crafting the perfect cross to force the witnesses to finally break down in a tearful, "Yes, it's true!"
And there's the rub. As I wrote last night, family law, divorce, etc., is not done well when it is about drama, when it is about vanquishing the opposition. It's best done out of the Courtroom whenever possible. Yet I love the Courtroom.
But the bottom line is, my cases are always my client's cases. It's not my opportunity to play. It's my opportunity to help. And may I never loose sight of that.
As I tell folks though, sometimes, after trying with all my might to help the other side see the merit in mutually arriving at justice, they still won't. The opposition still wants to fight nasty. Well, I can handle that too. And I can handle it then with a clear conscience, Clarence Darrow style.
Attorneys are very focused on professionalism, rightfully so. And I think that's what professionalism is somewhat about: working out the problems whenever you can; and when you can't, bring on the big guns. I think that might be "Old School."
Thank you, Tom.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
There's a right way, and there's a wrong way...
There's a right way to do family law and there's a wrong way to do family law.
One of my favorite judges told the assembled at a calendar call, that a family law lawyer could probably tell the parties how a judge would rule 95% of the time because the family law lawyer already knows the judge, the law and the best outcome.
Sometimes I'm in trial, having told opposing counsel exactly how the case was going to turn out, and opposing counsel, not practicing family law exclusively, is sure his client will fare far better than he should. At the end of the trial, the judge makes her ruling spot on with my prediction. Such a waste of time. Such a waste of money. Such a meaningless manufacture of additional heartache for the parties.
As I said, there's a right way and a wrong way to do family law.
The wrong way is for the attorney to pretend the court room is a combat zone, winner take all, where the opposing party is always scum and the client is as pure as the driven snow. The truth is, we are all people. No one is perfect. No one is blameless. That doesn't mean that there aren't real problems that have to be sorted out, worked through, and real solutions that have to be sought, found and enacted.
But war? The family law legal process, whether it is divorce, contempt or modification, is not suited to war. War is a distraction. The judges feel very strongly about this. War is a waste of precious judicial resources, a waste of time. Family law lawyers are good when they can identify the real issues, get quickly to the point, argue their positions without further inflaming the parties, and achieve a truly just result.
The right way to do family law, then, is to care about the family, to seek justice, not annihilation, to cut to the heart of the matter and to expeditiously (as expeditiously as circumstances and the other side will allow) arrive at the right result that helps, not hurts, the client and the larger family move through this transition into the rest of their lives.
I like the right way.
Michael Manely
One of my favorite judges told the assembled at a calendar call, that a family law lawyer could probably tell the parties how a judge would rule 95% of the time because the family law lawyer already knows the judge, the law and the best outcome.
Sometimes I'm in trial, having told opposing counsel exactly how the case was going to turn out, and opposing counsel, not practicing family law exclusively, is sure his client will fare far better than he should. At the end of the trial, the judge makes her ruling spot on with my prediction. Such a waste of time. Such a waste of money. Such a meaningless manufacture of additional heartache for the parties.
As I said, there's a right way and a wrong way to do family law.
The wrong way is for the attorney to pretend the court room is a combat zone, winner take all, where the opposing party is always scum and the client is as pure as the driven snow. The truth is, we are all people. No one is perfect. No one is blameless. That doesn't mean that there aren't real problems that have to be sorted out, worked through, and real solutions that have to be sought, found and enacted.
But war? The family law legal process, whether it is divorce, contempt or modification, is not suited to war. War is a distraction. The judges feel very strongly about this. War is a waste of precious judicial resources, a waste of time. Family law lawyers are good when they can identify the real issues, get quickly to the point, argue their positions without further inflaming the parties, and achieve a truly just result.
The right way to do family law, then, is to care about the family, to seek justice, not annihilation, to cut to the heart of the matter and to expeditiously (as expeditiously as circumstances and the other side will allow) arrive at the right result that helps, not hurts, the client and the larger family move through this transition into the rest of their lives.
I like the right way.
Michael Manely
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Reconciliation
I've been thinking about reconciliation lately. I guess that's because I've observed several recent efforts up close and personal, as is the gift of my profession. Almost everyone attempts to reconcile at some point or another. Most clients have attempted some form of reconciliation before they come to see me. They've made up with their spouses, usually far more than once.
Sometimes the couple attempts to reconcile after the divorce is filed. It's as though the filing the divorce serves as a wake up call to the other party. Sometimes the parties are able to identify the steps they will take to determine whether they can reconcile and, after a pre-determined time, the specified steps have either worked or they haven't.
Sometimes, the effort to reconcile is just a ruse, an attempt to regain an advantage. It's a cynical ploy. Usually a couple of simple tests will bear out the genuineness of a requested reconcilliation.
For all the efforts to reconcile, successful and not, probably the best litmus test of the requestor's veracity is whether the requestor imposes rules on the reconciliation. For example, the wife files for divorce, the husband begs to reconcile but requires that he live at home while the parties attempt to reconcile. Logic and love suggest that if the wife feels she wants a divorce, but is willing to contemplate a reconciliation, she needs her space to figure work through the issues, not her husband's continued presence. It is possible that absence makes the heart grow fonder. It is guaranteed that absence makes the heart grow certain.
A recent client interview brought out all of the requestor's reasons for reconciliation: the in-laws disapprove, the requestor has no one else to take care of him, the requestor can't sleep at night. Nowhere in the litany of reasons to reconcile was, "but, I love him." Nothing even close.
I don't think marriage is a charity case. I don't think marriage is all about self-sacrifice, though there is a fair amount of shared sacrifice. (The emphasis there is on "shared".) I don't think marriage is like the last year of college where you just tough it out. There is no graduation day here.
This is about life. This is about love. This is about knowing when to end the suffering and when to begin to start anew.
Michael Manely
Sometimes the couple attempts to reconcile after the divorce is filed. It's as though the filing the divorce serves as a wake up call to the other party. Sometimes the parties are able to identify the steps they will take to determine whether they can reconcile and, after a pre-determined time, the specified steps have either worked or they haven't.
Sometimes, the effort to reconcile is just a ruse, an attempt to regain an advantage. It's a cynical ploy. Usually a couple of simple tests will bear out the genuineness of a requested reconcilliation.
For all the efforts to reconcile, successful and not, probably the best litmus test of the requestor's veracity is whether the requestor imposes rules on the reconciliation. For example, the wife files for divorce, the husband begs to reconcile but requires that he live at home while the parties attempt to reconcile. Logic and love suggest that if the wife feels she wants a divorce, but is willing to contemplate a reconciliation, she needs her space to figure work through the issues, not her husband's continued presence. It is possible that absence makes the heart grow fonder. It is guaranteed that absence makes the heart grow certain.
A recent client interview brought out all of the requestor's reasons for reconciliation: the in-laws disapprove, the requestor has no one else to take care of him, the requestor can't sleep at night. Nowhere in the litany of reasons to reconcile was, "but, I love him." Nothing even close.
I don't think marriage is a charity case. I don't think marriage is all about self-sacrifice, though there is a fair amount of shared sacrifice. (The emphasis there is on "shared".) I don't think marriage is like the last year of college where you just tough it out. There is no graduation day here.
This is about life. This is about love. This is about knowing when to end the suffering and when to begin to start anew.
Michael Manely
Monday, February 1, 2010
Ah, Lawrenceville
I have been trying cases in Lawrenceville now for over 20 years, literally since before I became an attorney. My last year of law school at GSU, the Georgia Mock Trial Competition was held at the brand new Courthouse in Lawrenceville. And I believe it has been held at the Gwinnett County Courthouse from then on. My team won first in the State, back in 1989, and Lawrenceville has been very kind to me ever since.
We opened our office in Lawrenceville in March, 2009. While I've always had the good fortune to work extensively in Gwinnett Superior Court over the years, it seems as if the flood gates opened. Many clients were pleased to find an all family law firm in Lawrenceville. Family law is very complicated and intricate. It is neither a practice for the faint of heart nor the part timers who dabble in other areas as well.
We couldn't ask for better Judges than in Gwinnett. I find them all to be reasonable, rational, direct and well suited to their post. I'd have to say I particularly prefer Judge Jackson because I have practiced in front of him for many, many years and he has taught me much.
Our building is nestled in the woods, in a little two story house. It is the last building you see before you enter the Courthouse parking lot. It is the only house anywhere around. It is surrounded by tall poplars and sweetgums. I couldn't ask for a better location or better space in which to practice our art.
Even if you aren't in need of a family law lawyer right now, stop in and visit with us. Great things are happening in Gwinnett!
Michael Manely
We opened our office in Lawrenceville in March, 2009. While I've always had the good fortune to work extensively in Gwinnett Superior Court over the years, it seems as if the flood gates opened. Many clients were pleased to find an all family law firm in Lawrenceville. Family law is very complicated and intricate. It is neither a practice for the faint of heart nor the part timers who dabble in other areas as well.
We couldn't ask for better Judges than in Gwinnett. I find them all to be reasonable, rational, direct and well suited to their post. I'd have to say I particularly prefer Judge Jackson because I have practiced in front of him for many, many years and he has taught me much.
Our building is nestled in the woods, in a little two story house. It is the last building you see before you enter the Courthouse parking lot. It is the only house anywhere around. It is surrounded by tall poplars and sweetgums. I couldn't ask for a better location or better space in which to practice our art.
Even if you aren't in need of a family law lawyer right now, stop in and visit with us. Great things are happening in Gwinnett!
Michael Manely
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