Hearsay

By Stephen Anderson

Editor

Angling for clientele

As sure as the Chicago White Sox seemed destined to win the World Series in October, the inaugural ISBA Solo and Small Firm Conference was certain for success weeks in advance as registration quickly reached its limit.

Who could have known back then how timely the conference would be, coming shortly after the Supreme Court's announcement of impending minimum continuing legal education rules?

Conference chair Michele Jochner, as Justice Mary Ann McMorrow's administrative assistant, might have been aware that CLE was about to become a professional requisite, but as she said, if she told us she'd have to kill us.

MCLE puts future Solo and Small Firm Conferences in a whole new spotlight. As President Bob Downs predicted when he hatched the concept more than a year ago, a weekend of learning in a family-oriented environment might just fulfill a year's worth of requirements.

Lawyers from around the state arrived early that Friday, many even before the conference exhibitors had set up, and they packed the room for Jay Foonberg's rousing opener on the nature of making money by the astute care and feeding of clients.

Foonberg was early, too, and he scanned the theater-style setup. “I see some of you came early to get the good seats,” he said, “in the back of the room.” By the appointed hour, though, few chairs were empty.

He took a tally by show of hands and estimated that about 70 percent of the audience members were solo practitioners, most having toiled in their community venues for more than 20 years. You can read a summary of his client-care wisdom on page 9.

Foonberg grew up in the Chicago area. He told the ISBA audience that he intended to run in the Chicago Marathon the following Sunday, and indeed he did, finishing in six hours and 46 minutes.

That, in part, supported his pitch for “cause-related marketing” by sporting one's law firm name on the official T-shirt for any charitable event.

Surprising to many in the room, Foonberg also touted Yellow Pages advertising for lawyers. It pays, according to an ABA report, as much as $3 in fees for every dollar spent on small ads, and $8 in revenue per dollar expended on a big ad.

He noted that 22 percent of blue-collar people use phone book ads to choose lawyers, compared with only 11 percent of the middle class.

Another of Foonberg's marketing theories for law firms was expressed as a fish story. The whale, he said, swims with his mouth open, taking in everything and spitting out what it doesn't want. The shark, on the other fin, targets only the fish it wants.

As to being selective about clientele, he offered two choices: Do the work and don't get paid, or don't do the work and don't get paid. The latter is obviously better.

“You decide what kind of pro bono you want to do, and when you want to do it,” he said, urging that a lawyer provide pro bono representation five percent of the time – “no more.”

Don't hesitate to get cash up front, Foonberg cautioned. He suggested creating an “evergreen trust account” that a client must always reimburse as expenses for a legal matter are withdrawn.

“A photo of your kids makes asking for money so much easier,” he said, musing about such future financial obligations as college enrollment.

But keep that family photo clearly visible only to you during discussion of fees with a client – on the desk between you and the client, or on the wall behind the client.

One last tip: create a Web site if you haven't already. Foonberg displayed some of his obsolete curios, including a prototype wireless phone that weighs three pounds and an assortment of different-size floppy disks.

“The world has changed,” he pointed out. “You can go into a Radio Shack and for $800 get more technology than the United States had when it sent a man to the moon!”

If you don't have a proper Web site to promote the services of your practice, he warned, “your phone will not ring.”

How about them White Sox

What that so-called “blown call” in favor of the White Sox during the second league championship game demonstrated is not that an umpire can miss one occasionally, but that the catcher is usually the smartest member of the team. A. J. Pierzynski proved that.

In defense of the umpire, do the math. Fifteen major league teams play the other 15 in 162 games during the regular season. Approximately 300 pitches are thrown in each game.

Thus, umpires have more than 700,000 chances annually to decide whether a pitch is a ball or strike, whether a hit is fair or foul, whether a runner is out or safe, and whether all of baseball's intricate rules are obeyed. Cut them some slack, please.