MICHAEl McCorMICK : A Tale of 21 Cocktails

By nikki Morris

Like many others, Michael McCormick suddenly found himself with extra time during the pandemic. Michael put his free time to good use, and what began as a recipe and short write-up for a Manhattan that he submitted for a morale-boosting firm cookbook led to Michael self-publishing Lawyerly Libations, Concoctions for the Counselor, Apéritifs for the Attorney, Elixirs for the Esquire, and Additional Alcoholic Anecdotes: A Cocktail Compilation for the Burgeoning Barrister’s Bar

In addition to an admirable use of alliteration in the title, the book contains 21 chapters that pair a recipe and history of a cocktail with interesting legal and law-related stories, complete with citations to case law, including Bluebook-worthy footnotes! As you would expect for a book about the history of cocktails, Michael’s writing style is witty, entertaining, and fun. Every chapter stands alone and is easy to pick up and peruse at your leisure.

Michael didn’t initially set out to write a book. A history lover who keeps a file of funny cases, Michael realized he could make interesting connections to some of his favorite cocktails. He took the Manhattan recipe and paired it with a few cases on judicial notice and showed the results to a friend, who immediately asked for the next chapter. “Eventually, 21 cocktails later, I found myself with a book,” he reflected.

Michael explained that a cocktail’s origins is often “imprecise at best,” and he knew he would need to cite sources “as any good researcher would.” Relying on The Bluebook was a natural extension for the former chief articles editor (editorial board No. 55) of the Houston Law Review. However, he did take some liberties and created his own signal—see for no apparent reason—which I’m sure more than a few of us have considered when reading opposing counsel’s briefs.

Michael’s favorite cocktail—as you may have guessed by now— is the Manhattan, but he said his favorite chapter is probably § 10 – Eggnog, The Clerk, and the Archive War, which describes some events that are so over the top that they are almost unbelievable.

Section 13 – Blood and Sand and Getting Away with Murder comes in at a close second and discusses an attorney/congressman/major general who murders his wife’s lover in the streets of D.C. but was later acquitted based on temporary insanity. Michael noted that this chapter was especially fun to write because it is a favorite among Civil War historians and essentially involves the “OJ Simpson of the 19th Century.”

This endeavor took more than two years to complete, including waiting for the National Archives to reopen so that he could confirm what the history books got wrong about the disposition of a patent claim made against the U.S. government (see § 12). “It took some time to learn,” but Michael did all of the typesetting himself, relying on his law review experience, and used photoshop to clean up a few images scattered throughout the book. Michael was able to self-publish through Amazon’s Kindle Direct Publishing and has sold over 1,100 copies to date! The process also allowed him to make unexpected connections in a time when we were all in isolation. As part of his research, Michael would send a cold email, with a “Howdy from Texas,” to practitioners who are experts in their fields, hoping to get a response. He said that it was “amazing how people would call you out of the blue and would take your questions.” He still keeps in touch with some of these contacts today.

Michael still has a file of funny cases that didn’t make it into the book, but a sequel probably isn’t in the cards for him just yet. Life with his wife, Carolyn, who is also an attorney, and his two girls under the age of four, keeps him plenty busy.

Recognizing the subject of alcohol can be a sensitive topic for those in our profession, Michael explained that “while it may not be for everyone, page for page, it’s a history book that just happens to have alcohol.” The book—and any concoctions created therefrom—should always be enjoyed responsibly.

A Profile in pRoFessionALism

For this final issue of the 2022-2023 bar year, we invited Judge Lee H. Rosenthal of the United States District Court for the Southern District of Texas and Reagan W. Simpson of Yetter Coleman LLP—this year’s recipients of the Justice Eugene A. Cook Professionalism Award—to share their perspectives on professionalism with The Houston Lawyer

It’s hard to believe that I have been a federal district judge for 30 years. I’m not worried about being bored. Even after 30 years, every day brings some new and different issue or twist. Our city produces a fascinating case load. Add to that an extraordinarily talented and energetic bar on both sides of the v., in both civil and criminal cases, and you have a guaranteed supply of interesting cases. What’s an interesting case? Any case I have to decide, correctly and fairly. By that measure, all my cases are interesting.

Although we judges operate on the basis of what we need-to-know to get it right, even after 30 years, I’m clearly not going to run out of new things I need to know. Fortunately, there are able lawyers ready and eager to explain the issues and problems to me. And although many thoughtful people rightly decry the discord in our discourse, I find that most lawyers remember the importance of civility—at least when I’m in the room and they’re on the record, by Zoom or otherwise.

I recently celebrated my bench anniversary with past, present, and former law clerks. The T-shirt I created for the occasion says it as well as I can:

How do you measure 30 years as a judge?

In opinions, in orders, In hearings and trials.

In motions unending, In draft after draft.

In lunches and muffins, In striving for right. But it’s 70 law clerks, The measure I treasure, of 30 years in this life.

Every year has been a good year, and there is good work ongoing. Thanks to good lawyers and law clerks, I’ll try to get it right.

W. siMPson

As a young associate, I heard a partner in my law firm questioning the ethics of an opposing lawyer. The partner concluded that the other lawyer was not “practicing law in the grand manner.” That phrase has stuck with me. What a noble calling to “practice law in the grand manner.” But what does that entail?

One guide is the Texas Lawyers Creed, the result of efforts by Justice Eugene A. Cook and the members of the Supreme Court Advisory Committee on Professionalism that he chaired while on the court. The Texas Lawyers Creed provides principles and rules that all lawyers should follow. We should reread the Creed from time to time to remind ourselves of its obligations.

Following the Creed is a start. Practicing law in the grand manner requires more. Two virtues come to mind. Honesty and respect.

Honesty means more than avoiding misrepresentations; it means forthrightness, in all circumstances and in dealing with all people. Respect is the esteem we should show for clients, judges, court personnel, witnesses, our colleagues, and for the system of justice we are sworn to uphold. Yes, we should respect even ourselves. There is today not enough honesty, and too little respect—especially for views different from our own and for outcomes we dislike, both in the law and other arenas.

Yet honesty and respect may not be enough. Benjamin Cardozo famously remarked in an opinion that honesty alone is insufficient when fiduciary duties are owed, as in our profession. He required “a punctilio of an honor the most sensitive.” Such a high degree of honor calls for an attitude and aspiration of conscience and heart.

Let us continually ponder what it means to practice law in the grand manner, and let us always strive to do so.