Retort of an octogenarian: I'm still here, just give me a shot of adrenaline now and then

Recent events prompted my acquaintance and fellow columnist Dan Lawton to write in favor of kicking judges aged 75 and older to get the (fill in your own phrase) off the bench. (See Column Daily Journal, Wed., July 17, 2024.)

Judging is a demanding profession. I offer the following explanation for the elderly: Once a case is before us, we judges can make decisions that send people to jail. We can order people or entities to pay money to other people or entities, including the government. And, if you are still with me, we can also order people or entities to do things they do not want to do. But on the brighter side, we also make it possible for people or entities to do things they want to do and to receive money. Oh, yes, we can also let people out of jail.

I get it - judging is an awesome responsibility. Lawton cites Article III of the federal constitution that says nothing about the retirement age for otherwise competent judges. He also acknowledges that Alexander Hamilton "no dummy" dismissed the idea of a "superannuated bench" as an "imaginary danger." Lawton goes on to acknowledge, however, that "we should take for granted that some jurists perform their duties at ages far beyond many of their colleagues." Whew! I guess "some" means not so many.

In some respects, judging is the ideal profession for older, experienced people. Do not older people generally spend time sitting? This can be on a chair, on a couch, on a stool, on a bean bag (earlier generation) or... on a bench. If anyone is interested, I draft opinions and columns sitting and standing.

The other night I spoke with my good friend, the aged Heraclitus, about Lawton's column as we sipped ouzo from elegant, annealed glass goblets. He read the column, smiled, and uttered his famous insight, "Nothing endures but change." Oh, yes, a few decades ago (I have institutional memory), judges who stayed on the bench over age 70 lost 50% of their pension. So many competent jurists were forced off the bench that the act of reducing the pension was abolished.

Lawton supports his premise to purge our courts of antediluvian jurists by citing a few examples of older judges among the thousands of federal and state judges throughout the United States whose conduct justified their removal from the bench. Wonder why he left out all the young judges who faced a similar fate. Okay, I get it, his argument is that the removal of judges over the age of 75 was occasioned by age-related infirmity.

If I find that is an unconvincing argument, does that mean my judgement is cloudy? Oh, my goodness, I almost forgot. You probably gathered that I am... gulp... older than 75... by around... let me see... 11 years. Yikes!

If you will indulge me, here is a little history concerning my entry into the ranks of the elderly. For over five years I refused to join AARP and tore to shreds their unsolicited membership cards. I ran... maybe crawled my first marathon when I was 64. I was motivated by the Beatles' song, "Will You Still Love Me, Will You Still Need Me, When I'm 64?" I am still waiting for an answer from my wife Barbara.

This reminds me, years ago, when I was in my (gulp... mid-seventies?), I was asked by a judicial organization (don't want to tarnish their name) to give a talk on judicial opinion writing, or was it standards of review? Oh dear. Well...whatever. The person introducing me first announced that at the organization's next meeting the speaker will teach judges how to tell whether a witness is lying. I expressed my bewilderment that my wife... hold on... give me a minute... oh, yes, Barbara, would be teaching the class. I got a big laugh. Did I drift a bit? Sorry.

Now where were we? Oh, yes, Lawton shares his insight as to why the elderly stay in office. He says, and I quote, oh, sorry, you can see the quotes, "I think I know the real, but secret reason that so many geriatric judges, and other public servants hang on so long. It is good-old fashioned fear. That their Honors won't 'matter' anymore. That their highest and best use will be lost. That they won't know what to do with themselves in retirement that could possibly equal or exceed the meaning they found in their public service. That they'll miss the free jet travel, hotel stays, restaurant meals, junkets, to Hawaii and pod of 'judicial assistants' and law clerks who attend to their every need in posh chambers lined with their Lucite trophies, framed certificates and 'tchotchkes.'"

Huh? Yes, I do have "tchotchkes" everywhere in my chambers, but the rest of the stuff? Are you kidding? If I had those perks, they would have to carry me out in a pine box, or any kind of a box. I wouldn't know the difference. Lawton is not referring to perks for California state jurists. If I am missing out on something, please let me know.

Lawton goes on to write about his father, a well-known and respected doctor, who retired at age 76. Those in the medical profession who had ingratiated themselves with him, no longer called. He felt alone, dispossessed. That's me now! Imagine what will happen to me when I do retire. But Lawton's father found a new meaningful life. He plays the piano and formed a jazz combo. He plays gigs with his pals in a local restaurant with a following. And the tip jar is always full.

This creates a real dilemma for me. Because I too play gigs with a jazz combo and with the renown Big Band of Barristers under the direction of conductor, maestro, Gary Greene. And I am not retired. Oh no! It just occurred to me that many years ago Dan (I called him Dan then) and his father were going to come up from San Diego to Los Angeles to hear me play in a concert. It's a long trip. I talked them out of it.

Even before Lawton (Dan) wanted to warehouse aged judges 75 years and older, I broached the subject of my judicial retirement with several colleagues, staff, and other officials. They all threatened me with great bodily injury (GBI) if I permanently hung up my robe. Wonder why some use the term "robes"? I only have one robe. Come to think of it, I do have a second old robe somewhere in a closet. So, I guess "robes" would be an appropriate reference in my case. Getting back to the point, you can understand that on the list of reasons for not retiring now, but perhaps soon, is protection. What chance does a wizened octogenarian have against assailants' intent on inflicting upon him grievous injuries?

But when I do retire, I hope to get a gig playing standards in a bar. Drop by and request your favorite tune. I don't do techno pop or hard rock. And don't forget the glass filled with dollar bills on the piano. It won't be a bad transition. At least I will still be sitting on the bench.