My friend stayed single longer than the rest of our peer group. Not that he didn’t have options. Arguably, his delay can be attributed to the fact that my friend was more handsome. Women really liked him and settling down can be a challenge for a young man with his qualities.
After college, my friend spent years working in restaurants, running a survey crew, and spending nights sampling good bourbon at Chapel Hill’s finer restaurants. After a couple decades of that life, he loaded his guns, a Labrador retriever, and a few clothes into his Toyota Tundra for Colorado.
My friend settled in the Boulder area. He is an avid hunter and fisherman and loves to hike, snow shoe, and raft. Sometime during his western journey, he met a woman with a kindred spirit, fell in love, and planned a wedding near Crested Butte, Colorado.
I grew up in Eastern North Carolina and am not a skier. I had never heard of Crested Butte, much less flown to Denver, rented a car, and driven hours over mountain roads to get there. But, we wanted to take our young boys out west and, of course, attend my friend’s wedding.
The trip was worth every minute of the journey, both for the wedding and the town. Crested Butte is in Southwest Colorado, near Gunnison. There is no easy way to get there. The population is around 1600, it’s surrounded by beautiful mountains, and the median home price is $711,200.
Walking around the .7 square miles of downtown, you can’t help but dream of living there. The many coffee shops are super hip. Organic food and yoga studios abound. And if you have young children, like we did at the time, you will not find a cuter school.
When I asked a rafting guide what one does in Crested Butte to afford a house in the median price range, he explained the town is populated with people he called “trustafarians.” I had never heard the term.
According to the Internet, a trustafarian is “a wealthy young person who adopts an alternative lifestyle incorporating elements from non-Western cultures.”
Carrboro has its share of these folks and one contacted me this week. She did not refer to herself as a “trustafarian.” Instead, she called herself an “activist,” used the term “comrade” at least once, and explained that another “activist” was concerned for the welfare of one of my clients.
Of course, I am concerned for the welfare of all my clients. The difference in our relative positions, however, is that I review investigative reports, conduct my own investigation, and research relevant law. She heard the other “activist’s” version of the situation, which could be based on a misunderstanding or just plain bullshit.
More important, there are reasons a lawyer’s relationship with his client is confidential and the client’s communications privileged. When family members pay my client’s fees, as is often the case, my engagement letter includes a paragraph explaining some of the reasons I won’t talk to the family members about my client’s case.
Not included is the possibility that the family member will yap to an “activist” who will interfere and undermine my case.
The “activist’s” message was friendly and I was not offended. Nor did I see any call for a defense. But, I admire some “activists” and felt obligated to respond.
I drafted several possibilities before settling on an appropriate response. I offer the unedited list to you.
- Get a job. My cure for most people with too much time on their hands.
- Tend to your own @#$5!^* business.
- Don’t worry, I am well aware of the situation and will handle it.
I chose the last, of course. Wasn’t much more the attorney/client relationship or my goal of civil discourse would allow.
We are criminal trial lawyers. We represent people accused of criminal offenses who risk losing everything. We work to get them their best results and back to leading productive lives.
Call if you need us, or if you just want to say hello.
P.S. According to my weather application, Crested Butte’s temperatures range between 7 and 27 today, but I am sure there’s great snow for skiers with a trust fund.