I recently discovered in my letterbox an invitation to be “a special guest at an afternoon with Erin Brockovich” to celebrate the launch of a law firm’s new Sydney office. I wondered why I had been invited. On reading that “Erin has been working with the firm since 2007”, I wondered why a law firm would need a non-lawyer like Erin Brockovich to help them with their work. I decided to find out.
I accepted the invitation. I re-watched the film. I went to my local library and borrowed the co-authored self-help book that had followed. And I arrived at the event early to eavesdrop.
The hall was empty save for the host firm’s lawyers and marketing staff in a corner listening to a preparatory speech.
“This is going to be a big day,” said their leader. “Erin will speak for about an hour, but, first, introducing her, will be the lady from the Today show.”
“Lisa!” said someone. “Oh! Is it Lisa?”
“No, not Lisa. The one who does infomercials.”
“Oh.”
“Now remember to mingle with the clients, and especially the referrers.”
The guests started to arrive and I mingled myself. Mostly I happened to mingle with other lawyers. I never found a “referrer” and none of the other invited lawyers seemed to know what one was. And no one seemed to know why they had been invited.
“But one doesn’t like to ask …,” said a lawyer helping himself to a biscuit.
“I did,” I said. “I rang, and their PR people they said they didn’t know either.”
Snooping backstage, I happened on a tall busty blonde woman demonstrating consummate concerned body language to someone in a wheelchair. Undoubtedly, I had found Erin.
I took my place and, regrettably, the MC was indeed the lady who does infomercials and Erin did speak for an hour. It seemed to me that her material hadn’t moved on much in the decade since the book and it didn’t play all that well to the lawyers in the crowd.
We were told to “step up to the plate for your clients and hit the ball out of the park”. Somehow I didn’t think she was referring to me, or my corporate clients. And someone really should have warned Erin that overuse of the phrase “moving forward” will grate through even the gentlest Californian lilt.
The most exciting moment was when Erin showed a map of the USA plotting hundreds of reports she had received from people alleging illness caused by industrial sites.
“I’ve started creating one of these maps for Australia as well,” she said. “And I’ve identified eight sites in your country so far.”
There was a collective inward breath, and one could almost hear the invited lawyers shift into billable mode – readying pens and camera phones to start recording the imminent defamation of their clients – but, sagely I think, the Australian map was never shown.
The speech ended in a standing ovation from (not quite) all of the clients, a walk out by (not quite) all the lawyers and the obligatory present-giving routine. The gift-bag was enormous – big enough to conceal a novelty-sized cheque.
“Is it a koala bear?” Erin gushed. “I just love your koala bears. I cry every time I hold one.”
Don’t we all.
I waited in the long queue of admirers and, after nearly an hour, actually managed to speak with the great woman herself.
“I’m curious about your working relationship with lawyers,” I said. “Do you like working with lawyers?”
“No. I don’t,” she said. “Attorneys and I have a love-hate thing going on.”
“I can imagine,” I said. “So, how do you help lawyers?”
“I remind them why they went into law in the first place.”
“The money?”
“To help clients.”
“You mean clients with money.”
My time was up. But Erin was nice and obliging and even gave me an air-hug.
“Just one more question,” I said as Erin autographed my library book. “What does Erin Brockovich have that most lawyers don’t have? Besides money?”
“I don’t take myself too seriously.”
Here’s hoping it’s true.