Sunday Morning Hot Tea - No. 6
In this edition
Topic of the Week – The Burden of Knowing How the Story Ends
Legal Question – Can You Sue Yourself?
TOPIC THIS WEEK: The Burden of Knowing How the Story Ends
Books are one of my favorite ways to cope with isolation, grief, stress, anxiety... you know, all the feelings that have been going on for nearly a year now and very much intensified this past week. My favorite genre is non-fiction/memoir, and my favorite writers are folks like Mary Karr, David Sedaris, and Samantha Irby. I love hearing true stories from people who can turn the mundane into gold.
Both Mary and David write a lot about their childhoods and people they grew up with. Both are now in their 60s, and together they share the privilege of growing up in a time where people were able to lose touch with one another. That is something uniquely generational. I remember as a child, my mom would tell tales of a girl she had befriended in grade school named Rebecca Utley. They were the best of pals and reminded me of my childhood best friend.
“What happened to Rebecca? Where is she now?” I asked when I was little. My mom remembered that they had a falling out after Rebecca transferred to a nicer middle school, but beyond that - nothing. I found this horrifying. How could you be so close to someone yet lose touch with them so easily? I worried this would happen to me. I was terrified that, some day, every little face from my fifth grade class would fade from my memory.
Oh little Heather - you should have worried about the opposite happening.
Unlike Mary, David, or my mom, my generation is cursed with the godforsaken invention of Facebook. We can’t lose touch with anybody. People I would love to write about might read this newsletter. Some of them sure as hell listen to the podcast. I know they do because people who bullied me in school will DM me saying how riveted they were at a story we covered. Great! Thank you! I still remember all the shit you pulled!
It’s nice to hear that people from my past listen to the show or read what I write, even if I didn’t know them real well. Heck, it’s nice to have anybody listening or reading. But knowing who may be reading definitely makes me think twice about some of the stories I would like to tell.
Mary Karr discusses how she obscures characters for her stories in her how-to book The Art of Memoir. She’ll change a character’s hair color, origin story, or name. Sometimes she mixes two or more people and creates hybrid characters. For all I know, David Sedaris does the same. Maybe he made up the names in his stories. Some people have said he even made up some of the stories themselves.
I don’t care either way. He’s not a reporter; he’s a comedian. Still, for some reason, I feel inauthentic about changing details and people’s names when I remember them so clearly. I’m going to have to make peace with changing the details enough so as not to get sued but also not feel like I’m lying to you.
Just recently I got an email from a friend of a friend letting me know he enjoyed the show. Turns out someone who I'd gone to high school with was the one who recommended the show to the guy. The recommender and I were several years apart and never had classes together. Though, one memory of this person is seared into my mind.
It was a rainy day in tenth grade when my mother picked me up from school in our minivan. It had been raining for a while, so pools of water had accumulated beside every curb and drop-off.
I saw this student standing near one of these curbs, headed to a bus stop. They clutched an instrument to their chest, maybe something like a violin, wrapped up in a fabric case. Just then, a car drove by, and student was absolutely annihilated with a tidal wave. After the car had passed, I saw my classmate there, drenched and devastated.
At this sight, I let out a deep laugh that scratched a petty itch inside me. As a kid who never took the time to learn an instrument beyond the recorder, I harbored an envious contempt for those who had joined band and orchestra, for those kids who could play songs and read sheet music. That is why I felt so satisfied seeing this person standing on a curb, absolutely wrecked by rainwater.
My mom admonished me for laughing, but it didn’t matter. The image was formed in my brain, a little treasure I tucked into my memory to pull out on a rainy day.
The problem with recounting a memory like that now is that it is that it’s not some nebulous concept of a kid. It’s a real person who I know exists to this day. I know that they grew up to be a good person, at least so far as I can tell from the internet. I know that they’re happily married and have a kid or two. They haven’t posted any prejudiced content or ignorant memes. They tick all the boxes of a person I wouldn’t mind having as a neighbor.
While I used to relish the delicious memory of their misfortune, of the mental image of the filthy street water seeping into the case of their precious instrument, it’s not the same anymore. I’m cursed with the knowledge of how the story ends.
The one thing I can still hold onto are the strangers I encounter now. This is probably why I hesitate being friendly with my neighbors. If I maintain a certain sense of anonymity, it is easier to relish the silent pleasure of their mishaps.
Take, for instance, the little shit up the street who ran in front of me this week on my walk. He darted into the street without looking and cut so close to me I could feel my jacket rustle. Hoverboard in hand, he made it to the other side where he set the hoverboard on the sidewalk. Triumphant, he climbed on top, only to wobble, rock, then fall backwards onto the concrete. He didn’t fall hard enough to be injured, just enough to avert his eyes, ashamed, by the time I caught up to him.
Facebook may have stolen away my beautiful memory of the ruined violin, but at least I can still enjoy the simple things like this new kid eating dirt.
QUESTIONS FROM YOU - Suing Yourself to Win
This week’s question comes from Cara:
“This question was inspired by a line in your Santa Clause analysis...can you sue yourself? Is it legally possible? And if so, why might someone do it?”
Great question, Cara. This is one of those technicality-type questions. The short answer is yes. It’s kind of like that Spiderman meme:
It is legally possible to sue yourself because of the concept of “capacity.” There are two kinds of capacity in the legal world - one deals with the mental state required to sign a contract or make decisions. We’re not talking about that one today. The capacity we are concerned with is “a specified role or position” that a person holds.
You can think of capacity as different hats. Each hat is a different role. If you have more than one hat, you can put on one hat, sue yourself, then put on the other hat to be sued. Let’s look at an example.
In 2016, a woman named Barbara Bagley sued herself in a personal injury lawsuit. She was driving a car with her husband as a passenger, and they crashed. Sadly, Barbara’s husband died from his injuries in the accident. Barbara then decided to seek financial compensation for the loss of her husband by suing the driver involved - herself.
Barbara brought the lawsuit in her capacity as a spouse who lost her husband. Wearing her grieving widow hat, Barbara sought compensation for all the love, affection, and wages she lost when he died. Wearing her driver hat, Barbara was sued for negligently causing the accident. This seems like a stupid idea until you realize who defends negligent drivers and pays any legal judgments against them: car insurance companies.
So Barbara the grieving spouse was suing “herself” as the negligent driver, though really that second “Barbara” was covered by the insurance company and its $$ DEEP POCKETS $$.
And you know what? It worked! The court ruled in favor of Barbara the grieving spouse based on the language used in Utah’s Wrongful Death and Survival Action Statutes. Despite the insurance company arguing that it was an absurd result, the Utah Supreme Court allowed the grieving widow to collect from herself as the negligent driver (and, therefore, the insurance company) based on the plain language of the statute. Words matter!
So while you cannot sue yourself in your own capacity - and why would you? You’d have to pay yourself back! - you can sue yourself if you do so in a different “capacity,” especially if it is supported by a statute. At least you can in Utah because Utah is a wild and hedonistic paradise with no rules!*
* Please note, I have never been to Utah.
I hope that answers your question, Cara! Thanks for sending.
Got a question? Submit it here. They can be legal what-if questions like the one above, or questions about the legality of actions in TV shows or movies you’ve seen. I never ever want to answer your personal legal questions, so don’t send those. Love you, but I don’t do that.
Until next week, get down on that tea and tell me you love me! (That is aggressive! Please forgive me; it's from Home Alone 2: Lost in New York. Those movies were supposed to be for kids???)
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