In the summer of 1986 a movie was released called “Top Gun” . It’s about naval aviators, staring Tom Cruise. It’s about testosterone. And it is about a time when my cohorts and I were still young men. And leaving the theater we all wished we had made other career choices.
During this time I had client who was my age, and always talked to me like we were both flying the F-14 Tomcat pilot. He assigned me my call sign, Maddog.
“Psst, Maddog Maddog this is Defendant“, he would say at the beginning of the phone call. “Do you copy?”
I did of course. He was a great client. He was always getting into fixes that required legal help. Of course I cant really talk about them here. Like Tom Cruise addressing Kelly McGillis at the briefing about the MIG they encountered, it’s classified. I could tell you but then I would have to kill you.
What I can tell you is there were way too many fixes for this hometown lawyer to fix. When I think about Defendant I think about the Jimmy Buffett song Banana Republics and how he died in Honduras, far from my ability to address his fix he was in.
And I still think about him every time that song is played on the radio.
Down to the Banana Republic
Down to the tropical sun
Go the expatriated Americans
Hoping to find some fun
Some of them go for the sailn’
Called by the lure of the sea
Trying to find what is ailing
From living in the land of the free
Some of them are running from lovers
Leaving no forward address
Some of them are running tons of ganga
Some are running from the IRS..
Adios Defendant. This is Maddog, signing off.