Introduction

The tale of a man who made the singular error in life to trust a lawyer.....and the man he told the tale to.

Pennfield Meade

It was late in December, a Monday I think
When I, fully loaded with various drink
Sat short on a barstool, and munching down feed
First heard of the legend that was: Pennfield Meade.

I was happily burping and checking out thighs
As they flinched about past me (to see OTHER guys)
When out of the dampness, the darkness, the pores
Of the bar oozed a boozer, who held a lone Coors.

He was smelly: he stunk in the armpits and feet
(Not one a girl'd bring home to father to meet)
And the patrons as one gasped and grabbed for their noses
To shut out the stench of this flip-side of roses.

As for me? I cringed, and I cowed, and I prayed
That this apparition would dissipate, fade
For much to my horror, and much to my fright
The sole open stool was the stool on my right.

(I know somewhere's a God who's benevolent, kind
A source of great comfort to crippled and blind
And since with his grace he's so wonderfully free
I wondered, "GOOD GOD... what does GOD think of ME?!")

Well, no matter, I guess it was fate that we met
He needed a bath, and I was all wet
So I pulled in my belly, and salvaging pride
Turned to face the creature now parked at my side.

"How ya doin'?" I asked (as if I couldn't guess)
Not expecting an answer, and hoping for less
But to my sudden shock and unhappy surprise
The thing shifted towards me, and opened its eyes.

"How'm I doin'?" he growled from a place in his throat
That was foul as an ancient, decayed tuna boat
"I suppose you could say that my life is the pits
That I've lost all my money along with my wits

That my future ain't pretty
My heart always bleeds
And the source of my misery?
Pennfield Meade."

"Pennfield Meade?" I repeated, and motioned to Joe
To pour ME another, and so on, and so
"Who's he?" I continued, shifting my buns
Not sure if I really gave two bleeps or one.

"Pennfield's a sinner, the scourge of the earth
With one wicked mind wrapped in wicked large girth
A cheat and a maggot, with no thoughts of remorse
A liar, a soundrel... a LAWYER of course!"

"A lawyer?" I laughed, hard as I had all week
And now looked with interest at this ugly geek
"Continue," I said, and I ordered a few
One for myself (and the others, me too).

The creature was stirring, he wasn't a mouse
He casually ordered a round on the house
But before Joe could get his first boot of the night
I tossed down a buck for the beggar. That's right!

"Thank ya stranger" he mumbled, and guzzled it quick
I thought he'd get looped...but he merely got sick
Then cleaning his mouth with a cuff full of dirt
A'la Casey, he rubbed it all into his shirt.

"You wouldn't know it to look at me, Mac"
He started to say with incredible knack
"But I was a SOMETHING, a SOMETHING ya know
With scores of loose women, and tons of big dough

I owned a penthouse, and I drank champagne
I moved with the bigshots, I sang in the rain
I drove a Mercedes, I planted MY seed...
Til one day I met my revenge: Pennfield Meade."

It was difficult, sitting there watching this guy
Spill the guts of his life, and his guts full of rye
But I found myself captivated, leaning to hear
Thus full of respect... I reordered MY beer.

"Tell me more, tell me MORE," I implored, with an air
Of an urgency simply not previously there
And he nodded, he drank long, spat and he said
"I wish Pennfield R. Meade was particularly dead."

"I'll embellish," he gurgled, and I heard a sigh
From this man of cheap grizzle with yellow-tinged eyes
"It all started with nothing, a long time ago
When I got a ticket for driving too slow."

"Too SLOW?" I asked, shocked, disbelief on my face
I'd never met one in the whole human race
Who'd been nailed with a law made for tractors and ducks
And who couldn't get off for a couple of bucks.

"You got it," he said, and he dropped a small tear
Or a small bead of sweat in my latest of beers
"He was one of those cops with a square granite chin
And he looked like he wanted to run my butt in.

But he chuckled, thank God, and I chuckled along
Just a five dollar fine, and well, I WAS wrong
I showed him my license, he wrote it up quick
We talked bout the Yankees, and whether they'd lick
Kansas City that nite, and I figured they'd not
And he figured they would, or at least had a shot
But we left with a handshake, I promised to see
My way to the courthouse, in two weeks, or three."

His drink had gone dry, so I ordered a rum
Plus a couple more beers, and then asked him, "Want some?"
"Yes," he said, so Joe poured out five fingers more
(With his right hand, Joe's left hand had three less than four)

His thirst quenched, he shivered, and then said, "So chum
I showed up in court, cuz I wasn't no bum
But as I handed the five to the judge
I heard this huge voice scream at me
"YOU THERE... DON'T BUDGE!"
I turned round and peered to the back of the room
From whence I had heard this immense sonic boom
And there, standing broad in a thick cloud of smoke
With a bod like a fat man who's circus went broke
Was the man... the man known as Pennfield R. Meade
The legend... the infamous pillar of greed."

"Pardon me?," I said gently, for such was my way
In those brightest of times, in those bestest of days
"Is something awry, or gone far askew?
Is there some way that I can accomodate you?"

And Pennfield said, "Yessir! Put you money AWAY!
What would the founders of liberty say?
Protect these, your liberties, set yourself FREE
To LIVE LONG AND PROSPER....you just follow ME."

I didn't plan listening, I didn't at all
But Pennfield Meade's voice had a hypnotic call
So I pulled back the five spot, and holding it tight
I stuck out my chest, saying "DAMMIT, you're RIGHT!!"

"So proud, awfully noble, we walked out of court
"Standing tall, arm in arm, me and him, co and hort."

Our next court appearance, ol' Pennfield was stocked
With casebriefs, notations (and just a bit crocked)
He cited and argued constitutional law
Til my ears were reddened, and swollen, and raw

With hearsaying, whatnots and arsenic, old lace
The judge said "You're guilty, fifty dollars, next case."

I was stunned, but it didn't phase Pennfield a bit
"Your honor," he said, "WE think you're full of *hit!"
I tugged at Meade's elbow, but Pennfield then said
"We want an appeal, your 'Dishonor' -- drop dead!!"

Well, (to quote Ronald Reagan) we waited a year
When the papers came through we were told to appear
'fore Honorable Justice Horatio Black
On counts of the ticket, and MY talking back!

Pennfield said, "Ah, don't ya worry, this case is a LARK
I'll have ya out drinkin' before it gets dark.
The judge is a pansy, a spineless old whimp
With the brains of a sparrow, and face of a chimp."

That was all well and good, and it might have been fine
But ol' Judge Black was sittin' there all of this time
He coughed once, and smiled, a broad smile on his face
"You are GUILTY," he said, "sixty DAYS (RAP!!!) next CASE!!"

Sixty DAYS!! An eternity for men like me
Who have spent their whole lives eternally free
Still, the time didn't bother ol' Pennfield at all
As he tried once to tell me, the one time he called

"I got your appeal in," he said, "Wotta breeze
"We'll hit 'em with precedent, all KINDS of pleas
"I got twenty motions that are pending right now
"Don't worry, I know what I'm doin'. And HOW."

Well (to quote him again) what the hell did I do?
Continued to TRUST him, as idiots do
By now I was up for abuse of the courts
For waste litigation, intentional torts
Upsetting my mother, and making the news
And being too WHITE to be singin' the blues
On drinking and smoking, on making a row
On jumping a preacher, and mooning a cow
On things no sane person would possibly do
But things Pennfield Meade did in MY name. It's true.

I won't bore ya, buddy, with how long I sat
In that prison, while Pennfield kept going to bat
For my rights, and my wallet, suffice it to say
We made the Supreme Court one last, fateful day.

Where Pennfield R. Meade simply surpassed all peers
Getting my sentence increased TWENTY YEARS.
But bad as that seems, and as bitter a pill
Pennfield had one more surprise left... his bill.

How much? Think a million. Then think of two more
I paid with my watch and my place at the shore
My t.v., my liquor, my cats and my mouse
And finally, horribly, 'poof', with my house!
I know I'll be paying the rest of my days
For trusting a lawyer with lawyering ways.

So son, let me give you a piece of advice
Steer clear of clean living, and being real nice
Live hard as you can, for as long as you dare
Spend all of your money, strip all accounts bare

For if you do not, if you save ne'er a DIME
Some lawyer will someday save YOU from a crime
And before you can say 'I am guilty' he'll bleed
Even THAT one dime off you, like Pennfield R. Meade."

Then he vanished, along the wood floor, I would guess
Leaving behind an intolerable mess
But his fate gave me pause as I sloshed through the foam
And I drove over SEVENTY, all the way home.

Copyright; Bill Allen
Email: outbroker@comcast.net
Web Site: http://mydeas.com