... In the same public-service spirit, the Bystander herein offers Harlan's then-and-now diaries so that you can make the call.
A typical day for Harlan the lawyer:
8:00 a.m. Arrive at casual carpool pickup point. Decide between cars full of people who will irritate me either by loudly ignoring me or by refusing to shut up.
9:00 a.m. Now in the financial district, head to Noah's for bagel and coffee.
9:30 a.m. Arrive in office and try to avoid boss who will be wondering why important mediation brief is not finished. Read three faxes sent by opposing counsel, two of which are yelling at me, one going so far as to accuse me of stealing business records. In actuality, the records were leaked by that attorney's own client when she filed a police report in another matter.
10:30 a.m. Fantasize about life spent running an espresso cart or as a doorman. Travel to Sacramento to take a deposition. I get to stop and have lunch in Vacaville.
2:00 p.m. Conference with boss on responses to morning's angry faxes. Receive lecture on importance of timely completion of mediation briefs and being more structured, less ethereal. Fantasize about never having gone to law school.
Work on brief.
4:45 p.m. Bike messenger arrives with three sets of special interrogatories that all need immediate attention.
9:00 p.m. Head home wondering why no one else in the office ever does any work. Try to remember what my wife looks like.
Now, a typical day for Harlan practicing the ancient sacred fire craft of beadmaking:
9:00 a.m. Still in bed, playing with infant daughter, waiting for baby-sitter. Turn on stereo, Decide whether or not to wear a shirt. Read paper (Daily Journal).
Commute to mindset necessary to create beautiful beads.
11:00 a.m. Get around to lighting up torch and make beads for three hours. I usually make about five a day, which I then use to make jewelry to sell at craft fairs and on the streets of San Francisco under the auspices of the San Francisco Art Commission.
2:00 p.m. Lunch break. Play with daughter. Fantasize about life as a beadmaker. Remember that I am a beadmaker. Smile.
3:00 p.m. Settle into another creative session. I get into sort of a trance. It's almost a forbidden state. I can't touch or get too close to the molten glass. The energy created will stay with the bead and will be transmitted when light passes through it when it is worn. When the Spanish arrived in South America, the natives have never seen glass, and the conquerors told them they were shards of stars that had fallen to earth. Glass is a truly magical material!
6:00 p.m. Call it a day. Another day of being in the meditative state similar to writing a great brief or delivering a moving final argument. It's just that in law those days were far and few between.
9:00 p.m. My wife, an attorney, arrives home from work. - Daily Journal