Love In The Time Of Apps

by Jay Begler

  Sandy Maxine and the Two Sheilas walked at the head of the cortege. They were followed by hundreds of dignitaries and celebrities who needed good PR exposure; particularly actors and actresses who were having movies released the following weekend. Depending upon their bank accounts and desire for exposure each person in this large group paid to be in the cortege; $50,000 for a “First Class” position, the first five rows, $17,500 for “Business Class,” the next 12 rows and $12,500 for “Coach” the next 40 rows. The Two Sheilas also sold cortege sublets that allowed individuals to march in the cortege for 5 to 20 minutes depending upon how much they paid.

  The Original Sheila’s “very best daydream of her life,” shortly before she was struck by lightning, her funeral fantasy, had come true. The Two Sheilas, dressed in exact reproductions of the original impromptu funeral dress she had tried immediately prior to the Sheila Bolt, were in a major impromptu funeral procession with paparazzi and members of the public calling out “Sheila…Sheila…over here.” Realizing that the Original Sheila’s fantasy had just come true the Two Sheilas turned to each other and said simultaneously, “It doesn’t get much better than this.” Then said simultaneously, “Oh my God! You were that other person walking next to me that seemed so familiar. Amazing!!”

  Sydney Maxine’s coffin was placed on the stage of the cavernous Washington National Church. A veritable who’s who of celebrities and government officials, as well as senior military types, all of whom had purchased their tickets through Ticketmaster at exorbitant prices, filed into the Church. After a single prayer, songs from several notable rock stars that seemed to sing at every important funeral, and a very dignified dance recital by the previous winners of Dancing With The Stars, the eulogies began. Former comrades in arms spoke of Maxine’s heroism and bravery. Couples whose marriages were saved by Maxine spoke of his skillful counseling and dedication. Friends spoke of his warmth and generosity. While the subject matter of all of these eulogies differed from each other, the common theme was the same: How could anyone wish that such a wonderful person die a horrible death? Some, in anger, asked questions like, “Philip Goodwin, are you satisfied now?”

  The Two Sheilas stepped up to the podium. This was such an enormously anticipated moment, that a few people in attendance and watching the event on television even turned off their smart phones. “Ladies and gentlemen thank you for coming,” one of the Sheilas said. The other Sheila interjected, “The outpouring of grief throughout this country is evidence of the great affection held by America for this war hero and healer. Above all, Sydney had a great love for the American people. He told us as much before his tragic and unnecessary death. And we know that the American people loved him as well.” A camera focused on the VIP audience all of whose members were shaking their heads in agreement while secretly glancing at their smart phones.

  “We, like all Americans, are deeply saddened by his jinxed death, and we are also angry, very angry.” The Two Sheilas then began a prayer like presentation akin to responsive reading.

  Sheila Left, “Sydney Maxine was a wonderful loving person, and who wanted him dead?”

  Sheila Right (signaling to the audience), “Philip Goodwin. I can’t hear you.”

  The Audience, “Philip Goodwin.”

  Sheila Left, “And he risked his life to fight to protect this country.”

  Sheila Right, “And who wished him dead?”

  The Audience (now without prompting), “Philip Goodwin.”

  Sheila Left, “And after he left the Marines and he devoted himself to save many marriages.”

  Sheila Right, “And who wished him dead?”

  The Audience and now many television viewers: “Philip Goodwin.”

  Both Sheilas, “And then the Original Sheila found the love of her life. He had finally found the love of his life.”

  The Audience without even waiting for the question (and Goodwin thought all of America), “Philip Goodwin.” Goodwin was certain that that everyone in America had joined in at this point was correct because he and everyone in the bar were mouthing the words, “Philip Goodwin.”

  Holding up a large portrait of Sydney Maxine the Two Sheilas spoke in unison, “This is a sad day for all of us, but knowing our Sydney, the last thing he would want would be for his fellow American’s to be sad. In fact, when going through his belongings, his mother found this note tucked in the band of his combat helmet. We understand that it was written while he was in combat. It was a short poetic message in case he was killed. We’re certain that if given the choice Sydney would have preferred to die in combat for his country than having the life sucked out of him in a Lipo Center salon. Here is his message, “If I should die this very day, I’d ask America to go out and play.” Wal-Mart immediately bought rights to the poem and placed it on memorial wall plaques, which it sold for $12.95 and for $22.95 when combined with a digital clock whose arms were placed above an image of Maxine’s combat helmet.

  In view of the looming impingement on prime time, the funeral party, lead by motorcycle police sped to Arlington Cemetery. A television camera, mounted to the top of Maxine’s horse drawn carriage enabled viewers to see the approach to his gravesite in real time. A headstone had already been prepared, but instead of a religious symbol at its top, for example a Star of David, a Cross or a dollar sign, there was a silhouette of a shoe, no doubt a Manolo, and below that, “Brigadier General, Sydney Maxine, USMC.” Apparently, he had received a posthumous promotion. With the exception of a very large PPR 30, a “special six point promotion” from Pragat, no other information appeared below Maxine’s name, not even his date of birth or death. As the camera panned the cemetery, Goodwin caught sight of a sign that months ago might have surprised him: “This section reserved for 27s and higher.” Goodwin suspected that he was viewing a wave of the future, but then said to himself, “The future is now.”

  There were a few final heart wrenching and blame casting eulogies and then the lowering of the casket. (“This segment is sponsored by Forest Lawn-Check out our Time Share plan”) The American Flag was presented to Sandy. There was silence for a moment and then a ten-gun salute. (“This moment brought to you by the National Rifle Association because guns create memories.”) On the cusp of prime time, viewers saw the Two Sheilas each place a rose on Maxine’s coffin (“This segment sponsored by FTD”) just before it was lowered into the ground. The only sound that was then heard was the solemn playing of Taps. “They’re playing my song” Goodwin whispered to himself.

  Part Eight

  The Trial Of The Century So Far

  Grasping Lawyers’ Balls

  There are actually two Federal Courthouses in lower Manhattan, a relatively new one on Pearl Street, within a stone’s throw of the Brooklyn Bridge, if you are a professional baseball player, and on nearby Foley Square an older one, built in 1932 and named the “Thurgood Marshall Federal Courthouse.” The courtroom selected by ABC was in the older courthouse, chosen because it was not very busy and because the government in effort to attract new business had offered four trial days for the price of three.

  Midst a sea of reporters and aggressive paparazzi shouting his name, Goodwin, accompanied by Schnell, climbed the stairs fronting the courthouse, cleared security, took an elevator to the 5th floor and entered Courtroom 501. The buzz of those in the visitor’s gallery, (big shots whose corporations bought tickets for the trial and little shots who scored tickets through a lottery) stopped immediately as Goodwin came into view. Knowing that all eyes were focused on him, Goodwin walked towards his assigned litigants’ table down an inordinately long aisle, one that seemed, as if in a dream or nightmare, to continue to get longer as he walked. His table was set a discrete distance from the Two Sheilas’ table. As soon as he sat down, the buzz of the spectators resumed.

  Goodwin was unaware that this particular courtroom had great historical significance. It was only when he perused a small informative promotional brochure and rental pricelist, which had been left on his table, that he
learned that he was in the courtroom of the late Judge Irving R. Kaufman, the jurist who had presided over the famous 1951 espionage trial of Julius and Ethel Rosenberg and who sentenced them to death after a successful prosecution by an ambitious young prosecutor named Roy Cohn. He thought that it was a bad sign when he read further and noted that he was actually sitting at their table.

  Looking rather somber and dressed in their official Armani designed courtroom outfits, each bearing a large gold encrusted American Flag lapel pin, the Two Sheilas did not acknowledge Goodwin, but stood, within a large group of their corporate and civil trial attorneys. A court stenographer sat in front of the raised judge’s bench and a law clerk sat at a table next to the bench. Three television cameras were positioned in key places in the courtroom. The clerk went to the door behind the bench, knocked on the door, and said, “All set.”

  The vast American television audience was all set as well. Virtually every Low Life watched and hoped Goodwin would achieve at least some level of success. Everyone else in the television audience hoped he would fail.

  A distinguished looking man who seemed vaguely familiar to Goodwin walked to the front of the courtroom and a microphone dropped down to him from the ceiling. From a place Goodwin could not discern, there were two clangs of a bell. As soon as he heard this, Goodwin recognized him. It was the iconic boxing announcer Michael Buffer.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen. Let’s Get Ready To Grumble! In the right corner of the courtroom and hailing from Long Island and dressed in black with a Pragat record of 3 and 0, that’s 30, (now with his voice inflecting) theeeeee Sheila.” His announcement was drowned out by earsplitting cheers and applause. “In the left hand corner, at the infamous traitors table, wearing an old suit and presently hailing from the Low Life ghetto, SoLo, with a Pragat record of 0 and 2, that’s two,” At this point his voice was flat, low and fast, “is Philip Goodwin.” Boisterous booing and jeers erupted from the courtroom’s visitor’s gallery. “And now I have the pleasure of introducing your host and the creator of Divorcing With The Stars, Speedy Lazar.”

  “Thank you, Michael. It’s always a pleasure to be at an event with you. All of us at ABC are thrilled at this new and groundbreaking series. We hope that the television audience will enjoy some of the really exciting divorce trials we have in store for them. I should mention that we are still looking for really good new divorce cases, particularly ones with salacious sex tapes. So if you are a celebrity and are in the midst of a divorce or are contemplating a divorce, and you want to be on the show just go to our web site www.divorcingwiththestars.com to learn how to audition.

  “Now, just a word about our opening case and which, in my opinion, is the divorce trial of the century so far. By agreement, this is a winner take all divorce. Whoever wins gets all of the marital property, in this case over fifty million dollars. The only question that the jury will have to decide is who is to blame for the demise of the marriage. The jury in this case will be you, the American Public, who can dial in your votes. But you can’t do this until the trial is completed. We will tally the votes and the following day we will announce the results. We have arbitrarily selected telephone numbers for the parties in this case. For those of you who wish to vote for The Sheila after the trial, dial 1-800-888-0002.

  For an instant Goodwin’s spirits were lifted. This probably meant that his number was 01. He had just read an article in the Wall Street Journal which stated that when audience votes are tallied via phone there is a strong bias in favor of 01 over 02. “And the number assigned to Mr. Goodwin is 1-800 888-0001.

  “Yes!” Goodwin shouted.

  Lazar looking a bit annoyed continued. “As I was saying if you wish to vote for Mr. Goodwin dial: 1-800-888-0001-394587494ccmmd ++sljf** [e]x6.” Goodwin hit his head in disgust and yelled, “What the hell are you doing? You just can’t stack the votes like that. It isn’t fair.”

  Lazar smiled in a condescending manner and while looking directly into the camera and not at Goodwin said, “Read your agreement, Mr. Goodwin. See the fine print on page 42, the 1000 word footnote partially in Aramaic at the bottom of the page, it says, and I quote, ‘Goodwin acknowledges and agrees that the allocation of dial in numbers shall be in Producer’s total and absolute discretion.’”

  Sounding amazingly like Dr. Wang when confronted by Goodwin about contra-indications, Goodwin blurted out, “Who reads footnotes?”

  Lazar did not respond and continued. “Now then, let me explain to the television audience. Today’s event is quite preliminary. All of you have heard of picking the jury. This is a bit different. Today we pick the litigants’ attorneys by grasping their balls, literally.” A slight twittering of laughter echoed through the audience. Understanding the implication of his remark Lazar said, “Now now. We do this by picking a ball out of this hollow round wheel that looks like a bingo wheel. Each of these attorneys’ balls, as we call them, has the name of one of the 20 fine law firms on our roster of attorneys. We will choose one for The Sheila and one for Mr. Goodwin. By contract, each side must use the firm selected or represent themselves. Cameras and reporters are standing by at each law office in our pool of attorneys so that we may interview the firm chosen for The Sheila and for Mr. Goodwin.”

  The door behind the bench opened and an elderly and very dignified Judge walked in and sat behind the raised judge’s bench.

  “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I see that the Defendants are represented by counsel. Mr. Goodwin, are you represented by counsel for this proceeding?”

  Goodwin stood up and said, “No, Your Honor.”

  “Well, I suppose for this proceeding it really doesn’t matter. Let me just ask you this, Mr. Goodwin. I assume you’ve read and understand the agreement relating to this proceeding and have signed all of the necessary waivers. Is that correct?”

  “Yes, Your Honor.”

  “Very well, we can proceed. Plaintiff ready?”

  Goodwin stood up again and said, “Plaintiff is ready, Your Honor.”

  “The Sheila is ready.”

  “Fine,” the Judge said: “Well, under the terms of the parties’ agreement which I have reviewed, I shall choose the legal teams for each side by pulling out a ball for each party. Okay. Bailiff will flip a coin. The Sheila will call.”

  “Heads,” they said in unison.

  “Heads it is. Thus, the first choice of counsel goes to the Defendants.”

  The Judge put his hand into the hollow wheel, and selected a ball: “The Sheila gets a team called, “Lone Star Lawyers.”

  Goodwin was somewhat relieved at the choice. “I never heard of them. Who are these guys?”

  As if responding to Goodwin, an announcer from offstage said: “So, who are the Lone Star Lawyers? Well let’s meet them. The actual firm name is Justice, Truth, and Law. Led by Hiram Justice, the former Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of Texas, his firm has been voted as one of the top-litigating firms in the country for ten years in a row. It has, we are told, never lost a case. This is not surprising as every lawyer in the firm is a 28 or over. Let’s meet the members of the firm in person.”

  A large flat-screened monitor dropped from the ceiling. Depicted on the monitor was a heavy paneled door with the name of JUSTICE, TRUTH, & LAW inscribed on it and beneath that GOODNESS & WISDOM, Of Counsel. The door opened to reveal a magnificent reception area. The camera moved down a long hall flanked by bookshelves lined with law books and then into a beautiful conference room with an ultra long conference table. At the head of the table sat a senior attorney with a white beard that made him resemble Santa Claus, but not just any Santa Claus. To Goodwin’s chagrin, Mr. Justice looked like the perfect Santa Claus, the one depicted in Coca Cola commercials, except this “Santa” wore an elegant double breasted suit. No wonder this firm never lost a case. Hiram Justice had to be the most believable and likeable looking man, he’d ever seen. At the actual trial, large bottles of Coke appeared on Justice’s trial table. Goodwin wondered if it was just a coincide
nce or product placement and decided that it was the latter.

  “Mr. Justice,” Lazar said, “thanks for inviting us into your beautiful offices. The fact that we are here means that you’ve been selected to represent The Sheila. And thank you for taking on this case.”

  The white bearded man rose to speak and as he did so walked towards the camera. He had a slight limp and walked with the help of a cane. With a very slight Southern drawl, he said, “Sorry to be so slow. An old war wound, you know. Many people may not know this, but I was in the same unit as Sydney Maxine, but many years before. It is a shame he had to die such a horrible jinxed death.” He looked at Goodwin as he said, “jinxed death.” Goodwin flinched reflexively. The camera focused in on Justice’s suit jacket to take a close up of his Distinguished Service Cross, two Purple Hearts, the Medal of Honor, and the Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval. Goodwin was horrified.

  “First, we thank you for choosing us. And I’d like to introduce you to the other members of our team, Miriam Truth and Allen Law.” Their resemblance to John F. Kennedy and Jackie was uncanny. “You might remember them. They were the attorneys responsible for uncovering the Enron scandal. Let me finish by saying that we’re great fans of The Sheila and are delighted to represent them. I won’t say anymore except…” The friendly demeanor changed. “Mr. Goodman we’re looking forward to seeing you in court.” Goodman began to get stomach cramps.

  “Shit,” Goodwin said to Schnell, “I’m dead.”

  “Not at all. Now it’s your turn. Who do you hope to get?

  “I really like the style of the great Harvard Professor Alan Dershowitz. I don’t know if he’s in the lawyer pool, but if he is, I want him. He’s very eloquent, a brilliant lawyer, and legal scholar. He’s also great with the press. I’ve read all of his books and he’s a wonderful orator. And, if he could get Von Bulow off, he could probably help me as well. Better than most he will able to articulate the injustices perpetrated on the Low Lifes.”