Jamie’s got new dreams he’s building upon is a stanza from the song “I’m still hurting” from the Broadway play The Last 5 Years. It’s a simple stanza about moving on or moving forward. I don’t know who Jamie is or what he was moving on from but I’ve internalized this simple statement.

In the spirit of it’s simplicity, I want to retroactively share that on October 19, 2019, the James Jones Gymnastics Academy opened with no ribbon cutting and no fanfare. Just me and my boys.

The whispered conversations in overcrowded hallways turned into action. We moved into that cheerleading gym, South Clayton Stealth, and we have been flipping out ever since.

Now every Saturday morning, I can feel the early morning madness and  magic in the making. At times, I feel I’ve waited too late to start this new path. But when I see my boys take flight, I’m spell bound by the fairy-tale adventure in this ever-spinning playground, and the possibility that among them is an Olympic champion. The dreams of a ten year old me merge with their reality and we are young together, chasing the gold.

Now, I find myself having more whispered conversations in overcrowded hallways about the boys in the gym. They are a constant joy, and I tell anyone who asks “Please don’t ask me about my boys, because if you do I will not stop talking about them.” When it comes to the boys I have so much to say not just today but always.

And I can’t wait until we grow. Until we debut on this junior olympic track. Until we make the Future Stars team. Until we make the National team. Then onto the Olympics. I told you before, this time will be bigger and brighter than we knew it. So watch us fly, you all know we can do it.

The new dream Jamie is building upon? I’d love to put a boy on the 2032 Olympic gymnastics team. I’ll be on this journey for a while. The boys are little, the Olympics are far away. Very far away. The goal is as far fetched as it sounds but worth pursuing. Only a hand full of boys make it to the Olympics, but a coach can dream, can’t he? I think I have an all-around champion in the gym already, and a possible on the way. So, the dream is promising. 

In the meantime, we’ll have early morning madness. We’ll have magic in the making.

As for this blog? So many people have told that they enjoy reading this webpage. I’m not sure what it will become since I am no longer building a practice. I doubt I will detail the progress of the gym here, as I have a website, Facebook, page, and Instagram page for that. So, this might be goodbye. But I’ll leave it up for now so you won’t miss me immediately. Then, after a while, I’ll tip toe away so you won’t have to say you heard me leave.

This concludes my business, may I be excused?

James Jones Esq.

All my life, I’ve felt an uneasiness inside of me. Always over reacting to every emotion. On most occasions, the over reaction was euphoric. Producing a high I couldn’t explain. I diagnosed myself as manic expressive because I had no other way to explain the uneasiness or euphoria that boiled over on the inside.

I’ve felt this uneasy euphoria on several memorable occasions: every first day of school, the night I crossed the burning sands into Kappa Alpha Psi, the day I jumped a plane from Charlotte to New York City, intent on landing a job on Broadway, and the first day I started practicing law.

I had a very memorable but short lived life on Broadway (a story for another day). While there, I heard a song sang by Glenn Close. “As If We Never Said Goodbye” from Sunset Boulevard has a recurring theme of something Norma Desmond describes as early morning madness. Simply enough, this term perfectly embodies what I had been feeling all these years: unbridled giddiness, uneasy excitement, uncontainable expectations of euphoria.

I never intended to practice law after law school, so the uneasiness was overbearing when I first stepped into the courtroom a full three years after graduating. But this time, the uneasiness wasn’t euphoric. Being in court didn’t produce a high, only a brooding low brought on by the insolence of the legal profession. After four years of practicing, I finally realized that it wasn’t early morning madness I was feeling, but unnecessary stress.

By January of 2019, I’d had it. While sitting in my car after work, I asked myself “what do I really want to do?” Immediately, “coach elite level boys gymnastics” came to mind. To put this new thought into context, I did gymnastics as a boy. But that’s a story for another day as well. I still have the moves, though. See below:

And as if guided by fate, I took a left turn out of my office parking lot instead of the usual right, and discovered there was a gymnastics club 100 feet away from my office. Just there. I started coaching. The very first day I saw those bright eyed, hopeful boys rush into the gym, ready to chalk up and defy gravity, I could feel the early morning madness, and I could feel the magic in the making. I hung back at first but then I told myself “I don’t know why I’m frightened, I know my way around here.” With that, Coach James was born. Everything was as if gymnastics and I never said goodbye. 

But what started out as aimless became all consuming. The mania had returned and the high was welcomed. All I thought about was gymnastics. I always wanted to return to gymnastics somehow. I’ve spent so many mornings, just trying to resist it. I’m trembling now, you can’t know how I’ve missed it. There was a world to rediscover, though unlike Norma from Sunset Boulevard, I am in a huge hurry- a hurry to be rid of this life as a lawyer. 

I flipped feet first into the program I was working with. I became discouraged when I found that the program was limited to recreation and didn’t allow for development or competitions. For years, I had thoughts in the back of my mind of starting my own competitive gymnastics club. Now, the early morning madness was propelling me to turn those thoughts into action.

The opportunity came before the preparation. A parent came to me and asked if I’d help get their son on the competitive track. So, I offered gymnastics classes under a pavilion of a public park. The heat was unbearable and almost caused me to put a stop to the early morning madness that I had come to look forward to. I couldn’t let the goal end so prematurely.

So, with 4 mats,  a low bar, one gymnast and a 25′ X 12′ lobby space in the same building as my law office, the James Jones Gymnastics Academy was born. But the new life came too fast, as other parents wanted to sign their kids up for my classes, but space was limited. Now, I find myself having whispered conversations in over crowded hallways on how to take this from the lobby to a gym space. I’ve had several suggestions such as becoming a non-profit, partnering with existing programs, and incubating inside of another gym until my club is self sustaining. I’m following up on all leads.

For now, I have been offered a space inside of a cheerleading and dance gym. The gym has a spring floor, but no actual gymnastics equipment. So, I am quickly working to gather equipment before we move in. And there’s no time to waste. I’ve already discovered a 7 year old phenom, who I believe is the greatest gymnast of all time in the making.

I’m putting lots of work into this. And this time will be bigger, And brighter than we knew it. So watch me fly, we all know I can do it. Of course there are professional nerves that come with this decision.  But I have to push past them if I want a life I’ve always thought about. Could I stop my hand from shaking? Has there ever been a moment with so much to live for?

What motivates me most is that the boys I am coaching are so talented. They just don’t have a competitive gymnastics program in their area to hone their skills. In order to get to a competitive gym, their parents would have to drive almost 20 miles in either direction. I want to change that and start a competitive boys gymnastics club in South Metro Atlanta. I’ve made up my mind that I don’t want to practice law. That’s all in the past. The gymnastics world has waited long enough. I’ve come home at last. 

 

 

 

 

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I felt the burn out creeping. But I ignored it. It started to whisper in my ear. But I ignored it again. Then it went away.

I started Jones Law Office in 2016. It’s a year I won’t remember too fondly in the future. The days were long and the billables were short. But I kept at it. 2017 showed surprising promise. My schedule was concrete: wake up at 6 AM, Calendar call at 8:30 AM. Court until whenever the final gavel banged. Chasing clients from 5 PM – 9 PM, research and review cases until 2 AM. Repeat. 2018 was the year of big return. And 2019 is shaping up to be a windfall year. But 2020 may see me bow out from the practice of law for good.

The burn out never really went away.  I just ignored it in the hunt for the next billable hour. All for money. It’s weird that we don’t talk about money. I actually brought this subject up in court when a judge categorized court appointed legal work as charity or “work from the goodness of your heart.”

Objection. No one works any job out of the goodness of their heart.  No one goes to school for almost 10 years, wakes up before the sun, drives 45 minutes through traffic to argue with other people for 8 hours a day over the lives of people they don’t know out of the goodness of their heart. We do it for money. It’s our livelihood. And it’s tiring because the money never matches the work we do. So, there’s the never ending push to do more in order to make more. And for what?

On paper? I do well. I would classify myself as a HENRY (High Earner, Not Rich Yet). But the earnings are too hard won and at this point, there’s no purpose to the daily grind that produces the income. I recently did a cost analysis of my life, and I discovered that nearly every expense I have (including personal) is directly connected to the practice of law. I also discovered that nearly every negative issue I have is directly related to the practice of law. It all has added to the burn out. 

I’m surprised at who I have become; a far cry from the free spirited young man who, just a few short years ago, sold everything I had and bought a big red Scooby Doo mystery van on Craigslist to drive around the world in 180 Days…or just to Los Angeles to live on the beach and write screenplays in coffee shops. We lose ourselves so quickly in this life. 

Closing Argument: I’ve lost the drive to practice law. I’ve also lost interest. I never wanted to be a lawyer anyway and I have no idea how I got here. The law is not a pleasant or an inviting profession. I wouldn’t encourage anyone to pursue this field. The legal profession has a pretty face and takes a perfect selfie. But beneath the filters and the Fendi foundation, she’s ugly as hell.

So, this is my notice to myself. A year from now, I plan to be doing something else. If you should come across this blog in June of 2020 and I am still practicing law, please hold me in contempt.

I leave you with this statute from The Last 5 Years:

Jamie is over

Jamie is done

Jamie decided it’s time to move on

Jamie has new dreams he’s building upon….

 

Behind every good lawyer, there is a wonderful staff. Usually a sassy assistant, a savvy paralegal, or an all knowing, mother-like legal secretary that calls you “Shugah” and brings cookies to the office.

The characters in the daily play that is a law firm usually can run the office like clockwork. A good lawyer can leave the office and trust that all things in motion are working for the good of the clients and the firm.

I haven’t had that experience yet. Since I moved to brick in mortar back in July of 2018, I have discovered that good help REALLY is hard to find. I had an assistant. We worked together for almost three months. It was an ok-work relationship. I didn’t expect it to be longterm or anything. Then one day she asked for the afternoon off and I never saw her again. I don’t miss her.

I posted a job opening for a legal assistant and I do believe the worst candidates who could possibly apply honed in on the opening and collectively decided they would waste my time.

Resumes flooded my email. Resumes that were not specifically tailored to the job position. Resumes that went on for pages and pages, detailing nothing at all that was remarkable. Resumes that saw nary a proof read or a final draft.

Against my better judgement, I decided to conduct phone interviews with some of the candidates. This time, the wasting of my time was my fault. I was totally dumbfounded at the phone etiquette of these applicants. One applicant loudly played with her baby while I tried to ask her questions. Another applicant brazenly hung up in my face when I asked about her extensive legal knowledge that she placed on her resume. One young man said he did not know how to use a printer and had never owned a computer. Still another young man said he had pending legal issues that he hoped wouldn’t stop him from working for a law firm. Another young man addressed his cover letter and resume to the wrong company.

I think I was Punk’d. There’s just no way this was remotely representative of the current job pool. I finally found an assistant through a referral. But that wasn’t enough.

After assessing my needs and checking the budget, I decided to hire another attorney to help me the swiftly growing needs of my office. I thought it might be nice to have a fellow lawyer to smoke cigars with on the balcony after a long day of court like Alan Shore and Denny Crane from Boston Legal.

I posted a job opening.

Boy.

That is all I will say on that.

 

Anyway, any attorney out there that want to be an attorney and stay an attorney, and don’t have to worry about the senior partner trying to be… all in the hearings, all on the record, objecting… come to Death Row! I mean Jones Law Office.

I feel like I dropped off the face of the earth. One minute I was here, blogging about life, keeping my Linkedin updated, talking with my followers on FB and Twitter. Then the next minute my face was on a legal milk carton.

So, the rain stayed. It got harder. Turned into a hurricane which caused a flood that washed me out of my home office into a tiny office downtown. Sometimes, growth isn’t optional. I knew I was outgrowing my home office. But I thought I had more time to expand. The lawyer life said nay and forced me out into the world of the brick and mortar. I want to let you in on a little secret, I don’t like it.

Currently, I have 70 cases. Breath. Yes 70 cases. I have no idea when my case load got this high, but I am slaying this manilla folder stack like the knight in obsidian armor that I am. And I am no longer an army of one. My legal assistant and I are daily in the fight for justice.

Of Course there have been hick ups and believe me, there is an oak tree amount of shade to be thrown and an Atlas Shrugged amount of roasts to hand out. Maybe another day. No time. 70 clients just called and asked for something they’ve already been told several times.

So, if you pass a chocolate almond milk carton with my face on it, just alert the judicial authorities that I’m fine – just lost in my office, trying to find my way to the billable brick road.

So, it’s been a minute. I’d hope to give you play by play of how I was building my solo practice. Then, the gold rush came. “Gold rush” as in a huge immediate flow of clients.

Simply stated, I’ve been busy. Busier than I ever thought I would be. I was just a regular, degular, shmegular lawyer bumbling around, having five hearings per month and substitute teaching on the side, then WHAM BAM THANK YOU MA’AM. 

Out of nowhere, the flood gates of legal heaven were opened and the good Attorney God above let it rain. The rain felt good at first. Then it felt soggy. Now, I’m sloshing around in a flash flood. Don’t get me wrong, I am grateful for the rain. I just need a place to put all of this water.

I’ve grown way faster than expected, so my days are spent trying to absorb this growth. With the increased workload, I considered merging with two other attorneys. However, the fit was all wrong, so now I’m back to sloshing it solo.

 

 

In time, I hope to be able to explain this good fortune. But for now, I’m just enjoying the downpour…and trying not to drown. I’d love more rain. But I’d be a fool to beseech more at the moment.

I have been picturing myself as this eternal legal loner, setting up shop in a rustic industrial building with a dog for an associate like Morgan Freeman in “High Crimes.” As lazily wondrous as this sounds, I think I dream of a day that may never come. At least not with this case load…I mean rain.

A partner and a small staff may be somewhere over the rainbow after the rain has cleared. For now, I’m gonna enjoy the feeling of growth. Some lawyers feel the rain, while others just get wet.

James Jones, Esq.

After I chose my very professional and quaint name for my practice, Jones Law Office, it was actually time that I found an office. The first place I looked is the first place I look when buying anything – you guessed it, CRAIGSLIST!

Craigslist can be a very scary place. There are a million listings just strewn on line like unmatched socks in a bin in a thrift store. It was a very daunting task trying to sift through the postings. But I learned the following from my Craigslist searches: 1) Office space in Atlanta is EXPENSIVE. 2) Good office space in Atlanta is is always located in a skyscraper 30 miles away, where you and your clients have to pay for parking, and 3) Office space goes quickly.

I drove all over Metro Atlanta (that’s all 10 counties and 28 cities) looking at office space. Some spaces were very very nice but always lacked exactly what I needed. Some spaces were just plain old raggedy and I don’t see how these people had the unmitigated gall to even list these spaces for rent. And some spaces looked like the site of future murder scenes. For instance, I toured a third story office space in a creepy old house-looking building. The floor creaked as I walked, the doors made that “scary movie sound” when I opened them, and when I looked in the closet of the office, there was a tiny door. I opened it and it led into another very small room. In that small room was a suitcase and a crumpled blanket and pillow on the floor. Like I said, the site of a future murder scene.

So, finding an office space wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be. For one, I only had a few clients at this point. That meant that I would be paying out of pocket for a space until business picked up. For two, I wanted to base my office close to the central area of where I’d be practicing, and that was hard to do because I had cases all over the place in the early months of my practice.

I asked other new lawyers what they were doing for office space. Mostly they were either renting an office inside of an established law firm or using an office share. I looked into office shares, but found that they charged a ridiculous amount of money for the same services that I received from the Georgia Bar free of charge. One lawyer was paying another law firm to answer her phone calls and receive her mail, which she picked up twice a week. I thought this was a waste of money when a P.O. Box and an answering machine could do the same thing for a much cheaper price. And other lawyers were renting multiple office shares, mailboxes, and conference rooms all over the metro area to give off the appearance that they had offices in multiple locations. I didn’t think all of that was necessary.

I went to a networking event (I’ll discuss in detail at a later post) and met an established appellant attorney who worked from home. When she asked me where my office was, I told her I was still looking. She asked “Do you really need an office right now?” She told me that she did criminal appeals and met her clients at the jail, so there was no real need for a traditional office. Instead, she and her paralegal had set up an office in her house and it worked for them.

I thought about it and decided that for the most part I didn’t need an office. At this point, most of my clients were referrals from a low income legal clinic and I either traveled to them or met them at the Georgia Bar. I’ve even met clients at the public library a few times, but I wouldn’t recommend it- not even to my most hated opposing counsel.  When court appointed work became about 80% of my practice, it was clear that I didn’t necessarily need an office, so working from home became the most sensible option.

At first I worked from the living room. That was an undefined mess. Then I moved my work to the dining room table. Even messier. After a few months, I realized that I needed a designated space for my home office. For about 5 months, a friend I met in law school rented the front room of the house. He was an actor in search of his place in the sun. I mean this is Atlanta, movie capital of the world. When he left to pursue the warmth of other suns, it hit me that his empty room was the perfect place for Jones Law Office.

When I first moved my practice into the room, I treated it like a catch room, as in I just threw my files, pleadings, and legal books in and the room caught it. I used a round breakfast nook table to work on and I converted the door into a dry erase board for notes. It wasn’t very functional. After a few months, it donned on me that my home office should actually be an office, with (gasp) office furniture and (gasp again) shelves and similar trappings. So, I got busy on the redo. Wasn’t too hard: a square shaped desk on top of a rectangular rug to center the room, my rolling chair from the garage, two dry erase easels, a wall calendar, a few book shelves and drop baskets and poof, a productive and comfortable working space was born.

Now, I’ve been in solo practice for roughly 18 months and the set up is still working for me. I may outgrow it someday, but that will be something we can discuss as I continue building a practice. 

James Jones, Esq.

 

Seriously, what’s in a name? A law firm by any name would still bill $250 an hour, right? To borrow from Shakespeare, names are important – especially the name of a law practice. When I hung my shingle, I was very adamant about calling myself something that was professional, appropriate, and realistic.

So many of my law school classmates (and countless others whom I encountered) have themselves billed on Linkedin as the Managing Attorney of the Parks Group, or the Senior Legal Officer at Anything Legal Corporation. The tee to this hee is that they are actually solo practitioners.  As in, it’s just them. So, the question begs to be asked, can one be the managing attorney or senior legal officer of a one-person law firm or are names like these misleading?

When I struck out on this journey, I knew it would be just me. And I wanted it that way. I could go all in on days when I was feeling really lawyerly or throw a tantrum and burn pleadings in the backyard on days when I was fed up, without having to answer to “the firm.” And because I knew it would be just me, I chose a name that reflected such: Jones Law Office. It’s cute enough. Quaint. The name alone makes me feel like I have a legal assistant, a paralegal, and an office dog. All of which I have none. But you see how the name of a practice can convey certain beliefs to potential clients?

Which is why I think these solo practitioners with titles on social media that denote being a managing or senior attorney of a one person law firm is misleading. And I never wanted to mislead any potential clients. I’ve never tried to hide the fact that I work alone because I always hoped that potential clients who called me would be doing so because they were looking for an attorney like me.  So, to advertise that I work at the Jones Law Group or Jones and Associates would lead a potential client to think that there were several lawyers working out of my house.

A point to ponder is that “A sole practitioner may not use a firm name that includes ‘group’ or ‘& Associates’ because both terms would incorrectly imply that the sole practitioner practices with other lawyers.” (FORMAL ADVISORY OPINION NO. 16-3)

So as you ca see, I try really hard to not imply that I work at a law firm that can rival Crane, Poole, and Schmidt. And it’s done well for me so far. My clients like that when they call I’m the one who answers. They love the fact that all of their issues are handled by me – no middle people. I like the fact that I can take a nap in the middle of the office floor without having to answer to “the firm.”

I’ve had several offers to either link up with other solo practitioners, join start up firms, or become an associate at an established firm. I do alright for now. Most lawyers that I meet are ashamed of being solo practitioners. I guess they don’t place enough value on the freedom that comes with it. I don’t know if I will always be a law firm of one. But I don’t plan to change anytime soon, as I type this from my home office, in my pajamas, clocking these billable hours.

James Jones, Esq.

Would you believe that I got locked out of my website for seven months? It has been the craziest cyber adventure to try to get back in.

Here’s the skinny. In an effort to streamline my online footprint and protect my website, I only used one computer for logins and edits. I kept my password stored in the computer because it was convenient and secure. Then, my computer broke!

I know. Freak accident. How does a computer break? And it was a MacBook at that. So, since I only used one computer to log in, and that computer was now broken, I could no longer log into this website.

It would seem that the simple fix would be to ask for a password reset. However, wordpress is so secure that you can’t ask for a password reset unless you are already logged in. So, it took me months of back-end hacking and cyber-engineering, but I finally broke into my own website.

I’m back baby! But so much time has passed. It’s an entirely different year, and I have now been in solo practice for 16 months. I’m still an army of one, but I have a great project management software and an effective phone answering app, so it feels like I have a staff at times. And I’m still running the show from my house. Only, I’ve migrated from the living room and set up an office in my unborn children’s room. They won’t mind.

I have a few stories as to how these changes and additions came about. I’ll be sharing them soon. If you’re still with me, thanks! I know I was on a long hiatus due to being locked out. Hopefully you’ll stick around for all of my stories and pointers on building a practice. Talk you soon. AJJ.

I’m a solo practitioner. I never thought I would be, though. In fact, I’m no where near the job I went to law school for. But here I am, four years after graduation, running a law firm from my living room.

It’s been interesting. I left my “legal job” nine months ago. I say legal so slyly because the job was in the legal field, I worked with other attorneys, but my position wasn’t an attorney position. After trying for years to move into an attorney position, one thing was very clear: the only way I was ever going to work at a firm was if I owned it.

So, I stepped out on nothing. The reason I use nothing as an explanation is because the legal field has no floor for young solo practitioners. We are looked at as step children or country cousins. When you’re out and you meet other lawyers, they proudly share that they work for Big Name, Bigger Name, and Biggest Name and Associates. When you say you’re solo, they hide their frown, find a way to politely leave you, and go and schmooze with some other big law ladder climber.

The legal field is built on the corporate structure. Even though lawyers initially received their legal education through apprenticeships in the olden days, lawyers today learn the lawyering process by working at firms. Oh, what about law school? Well, spotting issues on an exam and defending a murder suspect are nowhere near close in the learning process.

I wasn’t sure how long I would stay a solo practitioner. It has been a whirlwind. The days have been long and the nights have been longer. And as I look around my living room, there are pleadings everywhere. But it has also been fun. Building a practice has a certain adventurous element to it that makes the next day worth litigating for.

I’ve learned a lot in these nine months; I bet way more than I ever learned in law school. And I guess I’ll share what I’m learning with anyone else who is thinking of hanging their shingle. Stay tuned. It doesn’t get easier, but I get better at it.