Word that a friend working in patent law was focusing
largely on those plastic thingamabobs placed on restaurant dining tables that
advertise specialty cocktails and daily specials pretty much thwarted any
possibility that I would even consider patent law as a specialty. I could not
imagine a daily grind that featured measurements of those plastic table
toppers, and subtle differences among them like height, shape, and the thickness
of the plastic. To the extent I ever think about those plastic doohickeys, it’s
to wonder about the frequency with which they are cleaned. I just could not
contemplate a career focused on junk that goes on table tops.
Chances are my friend wouldn’t be so enthused about scanning
Federal Register notices for minutiae about hazardous waste treatment and
disposal as I actually was at the time. What’s true in romance is true in law:
what’s sexy to one isn’t necessarily a turn-on to another.
What I have realized over time, though, is that every
specialty, like certain elements of daily life, has its dull moments. A
professional can bring some zeal, though, to bread-and-butter work. A
professional can enjoy some of those slower matters that will never see a headline
and keep current even while out of the spotlight. What’s sexy about the law is
the protection it affords; what’s sexy about its practice is the brain power it
demands.
Fresh from a visit to the George Eastman house in Rochester,
N.Y., I am reminded of the importance of his patents associated with
photographic processing the led to his success as the founder of Kodak. I am
reminded of the importance of patents and patent lawyers on this 221st anniversaryof Eli Whitney’s application for a patent on the cotton gin. Patents transform
the universe.
I am reminded that the Constitution is sexy, and statutes,
and regulations, and caselaw. This business is more stimulating than not. You
just have to get up close to it and make the best of the dry parts.
—Lori Tripoli
