The Flub

Earlier this week, the professor in one of my classes created a neat game to help us understand the practical aspects of some of the broader ideas and themes of the course.

She passed out a sheet with the instructions and problems, and gave us a few minutes to think over our answers. Then she took out a football.

The professor randomly tossed it to one of the students in the class. After he caught it, she told him to answer the first problem on the instruction sheet. After he did so, she told him to throw the ball to another student.

As soon as that first student answered the problem, I knew I was in trouble.

I had completely misunderstood the directions, and my answers were way off from what the professor was looking for. No sooner did I realize this when the football was in the air again, heading right at me.

I didn’t catch it. I ducked out of the way and let the ball land with a hard “BAM!” on the table in front of me. It bounced to the floor.

Everyone in the class went silent and just stared at me. The ball rolled ever so slowly to the middle of the class.

I mumbled something about an incomplete pass or a fumble, but it got no laughs. The professor looked at me with a blank expression.

I stood up, walked to the center of the room, picked up the ball, and returned to my seat.

Everyone was waiting. I stared down at my paper for a moment. Eventually, I said that I had misunderstood the instructions, and read off my totally irrelevant answer.

Everyone was still waiting. But I had nothing, and there wasn’t enough time to think. For the first time in my law school career, I froze.

Crickets chirping.

Finally, the professor offered me the dreaded, “tail tucked between my legs” escape that I had heard offered to other students in other classes a few times before:

“Would you like the assistance of co-counsel?”

I quickly answered, “Yes.”

Law school goal #8: Go the entire three years without embarrassing myself when called on in class/ Always be prepared and never have to ask for “the assistance of co-counsel.”

Result of law school goal #8: Fail.

One of my friends sitting behind me offered to take a “lateral.”

I tossed the ball back to him, nearly knocking over his water bottle in the process.

The rest of the class went on with the game, tossing the ball back and forth and giving the correct answers. Apparently, I was the only one who had misunderstood the directions.

After class ended and I was walking out, the professor gave me a smile of what I took to be pity.

It was a nice start to the day.

Hopefully, I won't have a similar misunderstanding when the professor passes out the instructions on final exam day.

Beware the Ides of March,

Nathan Marshburn

Racing the Monster

Though exams during my first year of law school were more stressful than they are this semester, the past couple of weeks have still been hectic enough to make me appreciate the runs I go on around Alumni Village, the university-owned complex where I live.

During the evenings, the Tallahassee Star Metro buses come inside the complex to drop off residents. The buses on the 9:20 pm run and the last run, the 10 pm one, are usually pretty empty. The bus drivers speed around the two-mile loop faster than they should, eager to get back to the station and end their shift.

If I am out doing my jogs at this time of night, I can hear the bus coming. Its engine roars at varying decibels as it negotiates curves and speed bumps. The hiss of its brakes I can hear from almost anywhere in the Village on a calm and still night.

When I hear the bus coming, I pick up the pace of my run. If I am close enough to the finish and the bus is visible behind me, I go into an all-out sprint. The driver probably thinks that I am strange, to see some guy running full throttle down the street in front of him.

But I don't like to be passed by the bus, and for two reasons. The first is that I have a bus to blame, I believe, for getting sick one of the worst times I have ever been sick in my life.

When I lived in Las Vegas, I would go for runs up Paradise Road, which is parallel to "The Strip" or Las Vegas Boulevard. I ran past the Hilton Hotel and Casino, with its huge electronic advertisement for Barry Manilow, past the Sands Convention Center, until I came to the near convergence of The Strip and Paradise Road at the Sahara Casino. If I jogged south on Paradise Road rather than north, I'd take a right on Flamingo Road, and run to the Bellagio and back.

On one such run in Vegas, a huge bus passed me and blasted an incredible amount of exhaust into my face. I felt particles go into my nose and down my throat. When I got back from my run, I could already feel my throat beginning to tighten and hurt. I caught a fever, lost my voice, and it put me out of action for a few days.

That was quite a scary time, to be sick like that. I had no family in Vegas- no family west of Knoxville, Tennessee for that matter- and no one cared about me out there. Except for my landlord and the coworkers at the car dealership where I worked, no one even knew I existed in that city.

So now, when these Star Tallahassee Metro buses pass me, I can smell that same exhaust, and I try to avoid breathing it.

The second reason is less serious. I make it a game to not let the bus pass me, to make me run faster. When I was a kid, I saw a movie called Duel. It was a made for television movie from the 1970s, but it was Steven Spielberg's first major work as a director (even before he did Jaws). It was a well-made film, better than most of the stuff that is in theaters now (You can see the trailer for the movie at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5MtAMc4i8OA, or watch the whole thing at http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=5370479393460637420#).

The film is about a salesman, driving alone across the desert in his small car, when for some reason he is targeted by a homicidal truck driver. The brilliance of the movie is that Spielberg makes the truck itself the character, not the driver. In fact, neither the audience nor the salesman ever sees the driver or learns his identity.

So, when I see the headlights of the bus flying around a curve in Alumni Village, when I hear the angry roar of its engine and the hiss of its brakes, I imagine that I am in a duel with it. Can I make it to the finish line and get off the road before it passes me and blasts exhaust into my face?

It's a neat little distraction from the stress of exams.

Universal Health Care Now,

Nathan Marshburn

First in My Class

Did I mention that I finished first in my class this semester?...

Only it wasn't in class rank or GPA, but rather the 65 team NCAA basketball tournament bracket on espn.com. One of our professors set up our group. I got the championship game right- Michigan State versus the University of North Carolina, and I correctly picked North Carolina to win it all.

Being "called on" is a big thing in law school, especially during the first year. Professors will randomly call on students to speak about cases, and if you haven't read and prepared as they expect, it can be embarrassing.

So, as my prize for being first, the professor gave me a t-shirt in class that reads: "DON'T CALL ON ME!" It might have been more helpful to have this shirt in August rather than April, but it was a fun idea by the professor that helped distract us a little from the pressure.

Until Next Time,

Nathan Marshburn

Now Entering the Zombie Zone

My blogs are going to be sparse for the next month or so. It is exam season. The grade for every one of my classes except legal writing is based entirely on the final exam. We as students are graded on a curve system. About 50% of the class has to score a "C." At the most, I think 5% can score an "A." A certain percentage of the class has to be awarded a "D" as well. While professors are not required to fail anyone, if you get a "D" in all of your classes you will eventually be kicked out of school. The students here come from Duke, Stanford, Davidson, Vanderbilt, Cornell, Dartmouth, etc. One lady who sits close to me in class has a master's degree from the London School of Economics.

So here we go.

The 2L I spoke with and wrote about in an earlier blog was right. People have stopped speaking to each other much, and we sort of look like zombies here in the library. I find myself walking past people I know without speaking. It's not that we're being rude, it's just that we have a lot on our minds. I'll be thinking about some concept of contract law rather than paying attention to faces.

Before I sign off, I will tell one story:

One of my professors was trying to help us relax.

"The first grade I got in law school was the lowest one I ever got," she said. "I was miserable. I thought I was terrible at law school, that I was worthless and that my life was over."

One of the students behind me said quietly, "It was a 'B,' wasn't it?"

The class laughed. But the professor blushed and froze for a second. The class's laughter turned into astonishment.

"Oh my gosh!" One student exclaimed. "You mean you got 'As' for the rest of your time in law school?"

"Well," the professor said, "Would you rather have someone up here who didn't make those kind of grades?"

"Yes!" another student said. "We need someone we can relate to."

"Okay," the professor replied. "Which one of you wants to teach the class today, just so you all can relate?"


Until Next Time,

Nathan Marshburn

Law School Aging/ Law School Humor

Law school is a transitional period for many students. They go from being fun loving kids as undergraduates to adults preparing themselves to take on serious problems in law school. It's amazing how different my classmates can look to my eyes depending on the situation.

One female student I met here recently graduated from college. She's younger than me. But earlier this week her and I were both in the library. She typed away on her laptop as I read. When it was time for me to go, I stood up and told her that I'd see her tomorrow. She stopped typing and looked at me. I'd obviously interrupted her train of thought. "Okay, see you," she said. At that moment, as she peered at me over the top of her glasses, she looked like a woman in her 40s. The next day when I saw her again, she was back to her usual early 20s self. Of course, I didn't mention my observation to her.

Another guy I know is young and very active in intramural sports on campus. He looks like a natural athlete. But this week I saw him come into class, walking fast and carrying his open laptop. He had an intent look on his face, and again he struck me as a man in his late 30s or early 40s. But he is only in his early 20s.

The same is true for a guy who sits close to me in class. I watched him unpack his books and laptop. As he did so, he aged 15 or 20 years. I was looking for grey hair on him. When he finally sat down, he looked normal again.

And though I don't feel like it, I am older than most of the students here. A classmate who rides with me to the grocery store on the weekends was admittedly shocked when I told him that the first Superbowl I can remember is the 49ers versus the Dolphins, or Joe Montana versus Dan Marino. He barely remembers Marino and never saw Montana play. He thought I was only a year or two older than him...

I am most impressed with the intelligence of my professors in law school. I am equally impressed with their sense of humor. The way they phrase things often cracks me up in class- though it would never fly in the general public because they are largely subject matter and insider jokes.

Here are some examples:

1) My torts professor asked us if it would be false imprisonment if the owner of a swimming pool let his pit bull loose around the pool while someone was in it. The general consensus was yes. Before the professor could move on, I piped up:

"Pit bulls get a bad rap. They can be friendly dogs."

With the most serious face, the professor looked around at the class. "I don't want to hear anyone defending pit bulls," he said. "Pit bulls eat babies."

Luckily, I wasn't the only one that burst out in shocked laughter when he said this.

2) My contracts professor had us go through a complicated case where we finally figured out what the court was doing. The plaintiff wanted specific performance of a contract, which the court refused to do. Instead, the court awarded damages to the plaintiff with the provision that if the defendant did not do specific performance, the plaintiff could sue again for more damages.

We spent five or ten minutes sorting this out. I was deep in thought, trying to get my head around the court's logic when the professor said of the court's decision,

"Ladies and gentlemen, I submit to you that this is stupid."

The remark caught me so off guard that I burst out laughing.

3) A professor called on a student in class to explain a case. The student gave a grimace, obviously uncomfortable. She began mumbling what the case was about and most people could not hear her.

The professor said, "Miss Smith, speak up so the entire class can hear your mistakes."

The list goes on. Maybe you have to be here for them to be funny, though many of my classmates still sit stone-faced during all of this.

Okay, time to read for torts.

Until next time,

Nathan Marshburn

Gunner Bingo

Though I am enjoying myself at FSU College of Law, there is a sharper, more callous side to law school that I see, though by no means do I think it is unique to this place.

I learned from one of my fellow students that a game of " Gunner Bingo" is going on in a section different from mine. Evidently, about half the class is either playing it or aware of it. They fashioned bingo cards on their laptops with the names of the students who talk the most in class on the cards. When one of these students speak, they mark off a spot on the card (I've not seen the cards and so I'm not exactly sure how they're set up).

According to a couple of students I spoke with, somebody won the first game this week. The winner called it with perfect timing... One of the talkative students spoke, and the professor said that the information the student referred to was on page 293.

"Bingo!" the winner called. Half the class turned around and smiled or laughed, the other half didn't know what was going on.

I've been told other law schools play this same game...

Also, I learned this week that not everyone is enjoying law school as much as me. I spoke with one female colleague who said she goes home and cries many nights because of the stress. She has lost 10 pounds since school began, and only eats crackers during the day because she feels like she needs to be studying rather than taking too much time to eat. She also said she was considering seeing a doctor to get anti-anxiety medication.

I tried to give her some advice, though I think she just wanted someone to listen to her. I told her that one can study 24 hours a day, 7 days a week in law school if you want. But as for myself, I deliberately stop to go eat a nice meal or go for a run. These are two things I look forward to every day and are essential to maintaining a good mood. Before you go to the doctor, I said, try eating balanced meals and exercising.

I spoke with a 2L about this, and the 2L told me it will get even worse around exams. No one will speak with each other, she said. Last year, some of her classmates threw up before their first exam.

Honestly, I was sort of oblivious to all this until this week. I see people who are as smart and probably smarter than me showing signs of stress, and I guess the anxiety is a little contagious.

I trust that I'm doing things right. Everyone is obsessed with "outlines." They think every course has to have an outline, and most of my professors mention it. I really don't think in terms of outlines, though. I review the cases and try to think of what rules or precedents have been set.

Students have also warned me that I will need to write some of my final exam essays in "IRAC" format, which stands for Issue, Rule, Analysis, Conclusion. I think we will go over this later in the semester in Legal Writing and Research I, but if not I'll have to become familiar with it before exams start.

So, my antennae is alert for possible stumbling blocks at law school. The material is becoming more difficult and beginning to pile up, but I know that I am doing the best I can. When exams come, I will be as prepared as I know how to be. So I really don't feel too stressed-- at least right now.

Until Next Time,

Nathan Marshburn

Getting Involved

After two weeks here at FSU College of Law, I've found that there are many organizations which one may join. Thus far, I've only signed up with the Student Bar Association.

More than at any time in school, however, I have to be careful not to overextend myself. It is easy to tell that what I am learning in my classes right now is by far the most important thing. I'm being taught the nuts and bolts of how and why the law works as it does, and it is essential that I master the principles in these classes...

I have a favorite quotation from week two. Again, it comes from my Contracts I professor:

We were discussing a case in class when a student raised his hand and asked a question about some principle of the law of which I was not familiar.

"That's a great question," the professor said, "just not for today. We'll get into that principle next semester."

The student talked a little more about it, and then the professor said something like, "Yeah, I can tell you know a little bit about it, but hold off. It's like karate. If you only know a little bit, then you'll get your butt kicked even worse."

The class broke up laughing...

My brother is here with me right now. He flew into Tallahassee yesterday to watch the football game against Western Carolina University, our Alma Mater. It's good to see him, and he certainly is impressed with the campus and the football stadium.

As always, time is pressing. There are some pages in Civil Procedure that I need to read before the game tonight.

Until Next Time,

Nathan Marshburn