Blog of law articles

Happy Monday campers.

Sad news as retired Judge Leonard Rivkind passed away Saturday. I think it's fair to say everyone has a Judge Rivkind story, and they are all positive. He touched many of us by being a smart, caring, compassionate judge, who will be dearly missed. Services will be at 11 a.m this morning at Riverside on Alton.

It was interesting to see the architect of RRA's crisis management team, Charles Jones, hold forth on the media strategy he crafted (in today's SFBJ but for some reason I can't find a link):

The team opened "constant communications" between Rosenfeldt and the media -- from influential bloggers to The Wall Street Journal -- promising exclusives to no one, and saying nothing "off the record," Jones said. The goal was to nip rumors, and "present an atmosphere of transparency."

I previously described Stu's approach as one of transparency, but wasn't very sure it was working well.

Indeed, it appears it was Jones' idea to give the grand tour of Scott's lair:

"Many people asked how is it possible that the attorneys didn't know about Mr. Rothstein's alleged activities?'' said spokesman Charles Jones. "We attempted to describe how Mr. Rothstein walled himself off from the firm. We believed the only way to get that message through was to show the layout of the office and the security system.''

Many people -- including myself -- questioned this approach.

It's interesting that after Stu's muddled comments back on November 5, he has been quiet in terms of the media, and it appears the "transparency" strategy has been retired in favor of a "lawyer up and stay silent" approach.

And let me say this -- if I start writing emails like this or start behaving like this, you have full authority to remove me from any positions of authority:

His sartorial choices, for starters, drew attention: alligator shoes; hand-painted ties, including one that resembled a pepperoni pizza, and dyed-orange Ostrich-skinned boots, colleagues say.

Ronald Cacciatore, who used to work for Mr. Rothstein as a private investigator, says he bumped into the attorney this year wearing a dark suit "with bright gold pinstripes as thick as my pinkie." The attorney, he says, was flocked by a driver and security guards. "He grabbed me and kissed me on both cheeks," Mr. Cacciatore says.

The stocky, 5-foot-6-inch lawyer was routinely spotted at his Fort Lauderdale haunts such as Ultimate Cigars, where he smoked $40 Padron Aniversario Nicaraguan cigars, according to the shop's owner. He would pull up in anything from a Bentley to a Rolls Royce to a blue Bugatti Veyron, which retails for more than $1.5 million.

Colleagues say they alternately recoiled from and reveled in Mr. Rothstein's exploits. The attorney was often the life of the party, picking up the tab for elaborate bashes, and playing piano and singing for his guests, according to partygoers. At one party, Mr. Rothstein set up a 20-foot long ice bar at his house, with a giant ice sculpture of the law firm's "RRA" slogan, embedded with purple lighting, says Mr. Sharp, the former attorney at the firm. "Waiters were walking around with shrimp as big as your head," he says.

Depends on the head, right?