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GAZETTE
OCTOBER 1994
The Tob l e rone T i t le
by Justin McKenna, Solicitor
When the deed is done
And faces glow with the first flush of
agreement
The client hands the fragile legal
documents over
And the lawyer then proceeds to bend
them!
Why?
Because that's the way it's done. They
are stored that way. The envelope is
designed to take them that way. Quite
simply, that's the way God intended
it.
The quaint traditions of the law exist
to confuse, bemuse and amuse. Is
there a modern analogy for this
strange custom? For instance would
my pharmacist hand me over my
photographs newly processed and
developed, carefully folded in the
middle and bound together with an
elastic band?
I have seen two centuries of
transactions condensed into a stiff
booklet of title and by a feat of
unnatural secretarial strength it has
been bent down the middle. To read
the document it must now be re-bent.
This requires a similar show of
strength not always present among
emaciated lawyers.
The photocopying of such a document
can lead to unusual results. The script
in the middle fades into the distance
leaving the words adjoining the two
margins as visible evidence of this
peculiar folly.
Since the introduction of the laser
printer the printing of legal documents
is frequently found on one side only.
The deeds are consequently doubly
thicker. Indeed if the deed is not at
least four pages long then in order to
protect the paper against the
vicissitudes of time acetates are used
to sandwich those expensive words.
When bent, of course, the acetate
breaks and pierces the tender skin of
the re-bending lawyer whose blood
gives the agreement a colourful hue.
Reading a triangular testament can be
fun. When first it is flattened it
flattens only to deceive. By the second
paragraph when eyes intently travel
across the page from left to right it
suddenly jumps from the desk
sometimes striking the short sighted
reader on the nose. This phenomenon
often explains the unusual presence of
copious quantities of ash in the
margins as smokers suffer the shock
of the snapping sentence. It has even
been known to induce hiccups among
drinkers. But it keeps the narcoleptic
awake.
The old paper press that once
supported the cabinet in the back
office, long since disposed of, was
never appreciated and its loss is now
sadly lamented.
Among the most perplexing of
experiences is the three way closing
where the careful solicitor who has
been trained to think flat takes each
deed and document, then carefully
unfolds, re-bends, rolls (and
sometimes leaps upon) the stubborn
sheets before cautiously placing the
uncoiled clauses one on the other until
the corrugated heap is firmly
assembled and bound together with a
tough elastic band.
The mortgagee's solicitor in a
businesslike flurry and with practised
speed demolishes the architectural pile
from top to bottom while ticking items
from the schedule. It matters little to
this practitioner that the schedule itself
is attached to a certificate signed and
checked by another equally as busy.
The borrower's solicitor must hold
back the tears of frustration as each
delicate document is brutally bent
back into its antediluvian disorder to
form another
Toblerone Title.
•
THE LAW SOCIETY
YOUNGER MEMBERS COMMITTEE
in association with
THE DUBLIN SOLICITORS BAR ASSOCIATION
ANNUAL QUIZ NIGHT
in aid of
SOLICITORS BENEVOLENT FUND
Wednesday 2 November 1994
8 . 00 p.m.
ROYAL MARINE HOTEL, DUN LAOGHAIRE
Entry forms: Joan Doran, Law Society, Blackhall Place
286