Well, hee’s a headline you don’t see every day:
INDIANA SUPREME COURT ESTABLISHES ATTORNEY SHORTAGE COMMISSION.
That unlikely headline in the Indiana Capital Chronicle even provided the inspiration for cartoonist Tim Campbell of the Hamilton County Reporter of Noblesville, Indiana that, on the one hand, acknowledge that there was a shortage of practicing attorneys in Indiana while there is no dearth of cheesy lawyer ads in Herb Shriner’s home state (okay, I gave my age away with that reference to the late comedian).

Most of us at one time or another have heard the line from Act IV, Scene II Billy Wayne Shakespeare’s Henry Vi, Part II in which Dick the Butcher says, “The first thing we do is, let’s kill all the lawyers.”
Comics (and wannabe comics) have used the line to disparage the profession in general but in reality, the line has been taken out of context. Ol’ Dick, you see, is really a bad guy, the aide-de-camp, as it were, to anarchist Jack Cade who wants to overthrow King Henry and knows his job will be so much easier if they kill anyone who can read and burn all the books they come across. That way, they surmise, they’ll more easily take over an ignorant population if no one understands their rights (sound vaguely familiar?)
But back to Tim Campbell’s cartoon:
Apparently, Campbell is of the belief that Indiana somehow has the market cornered on obnoxious lawyer ads.
I offer as a refutation of that dubious inference as Exhibit A, the bevy of advertisements by some of Louisiana’s barristers. “Now thar,” to borrow a phrase from another late comedian, Andy Griffith, “is th’ real thang.”
I watch the noon newscast on a local television station each day and I’ve decided that one of two possibilities is a certainty: either Louisiana is plagued with more automobile accidents that one could reasonably imagine or there are some lawyers on the verge of starvation. If I had their combined advergising budget, I wouldn’t need to win the Powerball.
I also am of the firm belief that the only reason the noon newscast even exists in the first place is to keep all the lawyer ads from bumping together. And even that doesn’t work. It’s not at all unusual, at least in the Baton Rouge market, to have ads for three separate lawyers to run consecutively with no break between. It’s enough to inflict a tort injury from the dizziness of it all.
And some of those ads! Hell, they’re practically begging us to go out and get slammed by an 18-wheeler or some other monstrous vehicle (or at least to become a part of some class-action lawsuit where the lawyers get millions and the actual plaintiffs a coupon). One local attorney even claims to have a 24-hour “accident investigation team” at our beck and call – just in case.
One has a cute miniature poodle named Penny and the lawyer jumps from a tall building onto the top of an 18-wheeler trailer while making his pitch for clients, telling us to “get it done.” Another went him one better with a talking dog, a yellow lab who may actually be more intelligent – and unquestionably more attractive – than the lawyer whose ad he appears in.
Still another, in something of a Freudian slip, suggested that their law firm could get you “everything coming to you – and more.”
But the worst, the cheesiest, the most offensive (at least to my particular taste which admittedly, is conditioned to find all television advertising repulsive – including all those ads for medications for which all sorts of ailments and afflictions have been invented, but that’s another story in itself) is the one that begins with a voice that sounds like one of those movie trailers (deep, dramatic and god-like) that proclaims, “This is your city” as the camera pans some apparently poor lost soul wandering around on the rooftop of what passes as a Baton Rouge version of a skyscraper. “These are your streets,” the invisible voice continues before suggesting that if you’re injured in an auto accident, “This is your lawyer.” Gawd, it’s bad.
The least offensive is an attorney who gets his message across in a maximum of 15 seconds. In one of his spots, he asks, “Why do billion-dollar insurance companies consistently delay and deny your claim? Because that’s how they become billion-dollar companies.” The beauty of that ad is that he is 100 percent correct. There’s a lot to be said for truth in advertising.
There’s also much to be said for humor in commercials. One lawyer used to consistently leave me chuckling at his ads (which is unusual, considering my overall disdain for commercials). In one, he actually chased an ambulance down the street. Now, that’s funny, I don’t care who you are. He even took a brief fling at performing as an open mic stand-up comic and I found him to be quite funny. Unfortunately, the disciplinary bar didn’t think some of his practices were so funny, so he was forced to take a temporary hiatus from practicing. He’s back now but his clever ads are not.
Many of the lawyer ads love to tell us how much they’ve won for their clients. But the one thing that they never divulge is how much their settlements and judgments cost their clients in terms of attorney fees, expert fees, costs of copying documents, court costs, deposition costs and process serving fees. Oh, there was an attempt a few years back to pass legislation requiring lawyers, when boasting of awards won, to reveal what the cost to their clients was, but that was successfully beaten back by attorneys who had no intention of becoming that transparent in their messaging.
In the meantime, we’ll continue to be buried under a barrage of local noon news commercials pleading with us to go out there and get maimed by a big truck and to call (fill in the _____) attorney for justice.
Just don’t fall off that rooftop while looking down at the streets of your city.







