How to Cross Examine Anyone And Get Confessions Like Perry Mason

By: Martin Merritt, esq.
Past President, Texas Health Lawyers Association
Past Chair, DBA Health Law Section
martin@martinmerritt.com

“Please Tell Me you Didn’t. . . How to Keep Clients Out of the Jailhouse, Poorhouse and Lawyers Out of the Nuthouse” -Blog


As you can tell, I love talking about health law & litigation issues, and general wellbeing, if you have any health law questions or better yet, need to refer a case, just call or drop me an email and I will happily talk.


“The case of the worn-out suit.” I have a favorite trial suit, which is identical to the one worn by TV’s Perry Mason during the entire first year of production. I suppose CBS didn’t have much of a budget in year one. It is gray with a little check pattern. I know because I have three Perry Mason publicity photos framed on my office wall, all depicting the star in in “my trial suit.”

I have worn it so long, my dry cleaner keeps sending me little notes which say, “worn out” (as if I don’t know that.) But it helps me pretend to be Perry Mason, much the same as when I made Superman costumes as a kid out of mom’s good towels and some clothes pins. (Except now I get paid to dress up.)

How good was Perry Mason on cross examination? He was so good, people in the courtroom gallery whom he wasn’t cross-examining, would stand up and confess.

How to Get Cross-Examination Confessions. My old boss, before I got my own Perry Mason suit, would throw me in the deep end a trial, just for fun (I suppose), by making me take a witness on cross, with barely any notice. He would turn to me, usually over a lunch break and say, “why don’t you take it.” (“Gulp!)”

What the hell do you do if you have to cross someone and maybe don’t have a lot of time to prepare? I certainly never got anyone in the audience to confess. But, my early days did teach me how to develop my own method to try to get the witness to confess.

Key concepts. Concept number one, cross examination is made up of two parts, you don’t always need both: (1) obtaining admissions and (2) impeachment. The witness may not confess to the whole thing, but I bet I can get some concessions out of him, so I try that first.

Cross examination only works because I have a judge that makes the witness answer me. I use this to my advantage. Then I can decide if I want to impeach the witness, or if I am happy with what he has conceded. (AKA, ending on a “high point.”)

Concept number two, know when to “shut up.” Perry Mason never cross-examined anyone unless he had a quarrel with what the witness said. He would frequently say, “no questions, your honor.”

If you don’t have a point to make, then all you do by asking questions is give the other side time to think of something they forgot to ask on direct. I have seen this a hundred times, where the witness on re-direct, hurts an opponent, when he should have been exiting the parking garage at the time.

Here is the formula I developed for preparing to obtain a confession on cross-examination. Get a note pad and start thinking of these concepts.

Step 1: Assign a duty. Either from a jury charge, or perhaps a contract promise, an employee manual, or a Medicare manual, what did the person have a duty to do? The idea is that I am going to ask them, “weren’t you supposed to do X, Y and Z?” “Did you think your weren’t supposed to keep your promise?” “Do you agree the manual says you are expected to do this?”

Step 2: Interest Protected. Next, I consider what interest is protected by the law. It is a law school concept that gets buried in our little novice lawyer minds. Why is the employee handbook written the way it is? What interest is the law trying to protect. I usually end up with something like Q: “You understand that other people are counting on you to keep your promise.” “You can see how it’s going to be bad for others if you don’t keep your promise?”

Step 3: What specifically was expected? Then I consider what a person with ideal performance of his duty would actually do. “What did the contract call for?” “What specifically would the law impose?” What would that look like?

Step 4: Use a timeline. Now I consider what did the person in question actually did? This is also helpful in figuring out what witnesses are needed to prove-up the case. A timeline, should not only include “what happened” and “when” but “who knows about it?” and “what documents prove it?”

Step 5: How could the person have done better. Now that we know what the witness was supposed to do and what they really did, juxtapose the two. This requires a “choice.” Where did the person fail to live up what was expected by the law or the contract? What could he have done better?

This is usually a test no one can pass. “You could have done things differently?” “You could have done X, Y or Z?” There was a path available to you? You just didn’t take it?”

Step 6: How hard would it have been to do better? My favorite question on cross, is “how hard would it have been?” We have established “You could have done X, you could have done Y.” “How hard is that?” (It does matter that an easy alternative exists.) “Not hard at all. . . . But you didn’t.”

Step 7: Assign a motive. When it comes to “motive” I don’t ask them “why,” I tell them. Cross examination is really often like “gaslighting”. They will have their own excuse and you have to tell them “no it isn’t.” Preferably gently. (Juries don’t like bullies.) “The truth is, you could have done better . . but you just didn’t care enough.”

Step 8: What admission are you demanding? Put it all together. What do you want him to say? You can’t get a witness to admit something, if you don’t know what you want that looks like. Prosecutors do this all the time, in preparing witness confessions. What would that look like in a civil case?: “My name is Witness. Step (1) I know I promised to do X, Y and Z, I should keep my promises. Step (2) I expected people to rely on my promises, or bad things would happen to them. Step (3) I know I promised to specifically do X, Y and Z. Step (4) Instead, what I really did is skip Y and/or Z . Step (5) I could have done Y and Z, if I had chosen to, but I didn’t Step (6) All it would have taken for me to do Y and Z is not very hard, might have cost a l few dollars more. Step (7) I didn’t do Y and Z because I just didn’t care enough. Or, I didn’t think about it. I wanted to make more money by taking shortcuts. I wanted to get away with doing it less carefully.”

Step 9: Convert your notes to a demand for admissions. Once you figure out what you should be asking, what admissions to demand, the last part is easy, the payoff. Cross examination differs from direct examination, in that you are not asking the witness to tell his story, you are demanding the witness agree to yours: “Isn’t it true, you intended my client to rely on your promise”. . . “You would agree with me that you could have done X”. . .. “ “Wouldn’t have been hard, would it?” “And the reason you didn’t, is to save a few bucks? Or, because you just didn’t care enough. . . ”

The best part is, unlike Perry Mason, no one needs to confess. If the questions are prepared well enough, it doesn’t matter whether the witness agrees or not. “The skunk has been tossed into the jury box,” simply by asking the question. An unbelievable “no” is just as good as a “yes” to a jury. Your version just has to be more credible than the witness’ version.

Step 10: Impeach. Once you have all the favorable admissions from the witness, pointed out his shortcomings, then you can move on to the process of making what the witness said on direct seem less believable. Irving Younger has a great series on “The Ten Commandments of Cross Examination,” which is really just the “Ten Commandments on Impeachment.” But that can be its own blog.

Astor: The Rise and Fall of an American Fortune

By: Martin Merritt, esq.
Past President, Texas Health Lawyers Association
Past Chair, DBA Health Law Section
martin@martinmerritt.com

“Please Tell Me you Didn’t. . . How to Keep Clients Out of the Jailhouse, Poorhouse and Lawyers Out of the Nuthouse” -Blog


As you can tell, I love talking about health law & litigation issues, and general wellbeing, if you have any health law questions or better yet, need to refer a case, just call or drop me an email and I will happily talk.


Because people are kind enough to talk to me, I feel the least I should do in return is have something interesting to say. I am aided in this endeavor by the fact that I am interested in just about everything. I have noticed, however, not everyone has the time to go look up interesting things, which is all the better for me. Especially, it makes for good conversation, if I find interesting things that connect history with what is seen on the news today.

As a natural INFJ introvert, I would honestly rather go read things, so you don’t have to, and just report back, rather than spend time in a crowded room, which is painful for me. (Hey, we work with what we have.)

Also as a healthcare lawyer who counsels small business owners, nothing interests my clients more than “how do business people succeed” (followed closely by the subject of “how do we avoid what brought them down?”)

And no one did it better, nor fell farther (further?) . . . farther, than the ones who started the “Gilded Age” where great American business fortunes, ones built by the Vanderbilts, Rockefellers and Andrew Carnegie were on full display in parts of Manhattan. There is an HBO TV show that pretty much tracks the history in The Gilded Age from about 1870-1890.

Mark Twain is said to have coined the term, referring to the fact that the “gilding” is typically a thin gold veneer, covering over something more common (and possibly rotten) underneath.

Astor. The Rise and Fall of an American Fortune. Anderson Cooper first wrote Vanderbilt: The Rise and Fall of an American Dynasty in 2021. (He is a “Vanderbilt,” his mom was Gloria Vanderbilt, who made designer jeans in the 1970s after the Vanderbilts lost all their money.)

Cooper and Katherine Howe’s latest book is about the John Jacob Astor family whose fortune was built by John Astor when he arrived in America in 1783 to trade beaver furs. Essentially, Astor was a maniac, driven to make as much of a fortune as he possibly could, to the exclusion of almost anything else in his life, which I suppose is as much a gift as a curse.

The Massacre at Astor Opera House. America has gotten less refined since the days when ordinary people wore business suits on airplanes, to baseball parks, or just about anywhere else they went in public.

But it never occurred to me how far we have fallen culturally, until I reached Ch. 3 of Astor, entitled “Massacre Opera House.” (You really aren’t going to believe this shit, but they had a riot . . . over Macbeth.)

In 1849 the New York State Militia fired on protestors at the Astor Opera House, killing at least 22 people and wounding over 100 others. That isn’t the unusual part, Captains of Industry in the Gilded Age would often call in the Pinkertons and then the National guard to start shooting protestors, as in the the Homestead Massacre at Carnegie Steel in Pittsburgh in 1892.

So, why Macbeth? The Astor family funded an opera house which played to rich people, only to discover there weren’t that many rich people. Ordinary folk, like me (I am Irish from Mississippi) often can’t tolerate whatever it is that passes for music in an Opera house.

So the Astor Opera House began putting on plays, for rich people, just to pay the bills. One of which was Shakespeare’s Macbeth. (Which I agree, still doesn’t sound like “riot” material.)

Apparently, here is the missing part we didn’t know, this insult was part of a larger culture war. Shakespeare was more of a “common man’s” entertainment, while opera (and the opera house), were reserved for the elite. The Astor Opera House had scheduled a performance of Macbeth on the same day and time another performance of Macbeth was being held a theater for the lower classes.

The rich people had not only upstaged the poor people, they stole the poor folk’s favorite star. Headlining the Astor Opera House performance was a guy named “Macready” the biggest international star in the business. If you can imagine Beyonce cancelling a performance to play Jeff Bezos’ wedding, you get the point.

Also, culturally in New York and New England, WASPs or “White Anglo Saxon Protestants” thought they were better than the Irish Catholic and Scottish whose last name frequently starts with some variant of “Mac.”

So in a nutshell, you have an internationally famous guy named “Macready,” playing another famous guy named “Macbeth,” at the Knickerbocker (old money) opera house, where no one named “Mac-anything” would have been welcomed.

That’s when “all hell broke loose.” The crowd outside bombarded the theater with stones and then tried to set it on fire. That’s when the National Guard opened fire to shoot “the culture” out of anyone in the area. Macready, the star of the show, was eventually able to leave in disguise.

I don’t think this was as much about opera, as it was about eternal culture wars in general. But I am kinda proud of my Irish forefathers, caring so much about Shakespeare. Which might explain why poor people used to wear suits to the ball park. Sometimes, all a man has is an old suit, money for a matinee . . . and his culture.

Voltaire’s Candide (And Other Halloween Worthy Tales)

By: Martin Merritt, esq.
Past President, Texas Health Lawyers Association
Past Chair, DBA Health Law Section
martin@martinmerritt.com

“Please Tell Me you Didn’t. . . How to Keep Clients Out of the Jailhouse, Poorhouse and Lawyers Out of the Nuthouse” -Blog


As you can tell, I love talking about health law & litigation issues, and general wellbeing, if you have any health law questions or better yet, need to refer a case, just call or drop me an email and I will happily talk.


This Halloween Horror show began with me searching YouTube for It’s the Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown. I just wanted to see if Charlie Brown might kick the football this year. But then, I opened “the creepy door that shouldn’t be opened” . . . I clicked on a protest video from a Portland I.C.E facility. At first blush, I thought the protesters were cute, like little Gremlins. (But more as if the Pillsbury Doughboy and “Mrs. Pillsbury” had a bunch of babies after meeting at a Renaissance festival 20 years ago.)

I mean, Portland hippies are kinda “doughy,” extremely white people (there isn’t much sun in Portland apparently) but mostly, they seem really agitated that federal agents aren’t paying any attention to them. So, they start following them around, from what YouTube is telling me.

This seems harmless enough to me, the feds don’t seem to care about them much, but they won’t go away. (The videos, I mean.) My YouTube feed keeps giving me daily updates and it may never end.

I couldn’t help thinking (which I suppose is the point of protests) this has all happened somewhere before. I know I have seen it. So, why not, let’s take a look on Halloween, at a few “spooky” books about “protest” things that really happened and were far scarier. If nothing else, to gain some perspective that things could always be worse.

Candide (The Optimist). Voltaire’s Candide is pretty much the 1750’s version of Forrest Gump. (Except people are waaaaay more scary and horrible to each other). The only real purpose served by Candide’s paper-thin plot, is to place Candide in middle of an endless series of real-life historical events, that you can’t believe would actually happen in civilized societies (but yet, does seem eerily similar to things we are arguing about 250 years later.)

And while I am on it, if you think Monte Python was cheeky having fun with the Catholic Church on BBC-1 in the 1970’s (“Nobody Expects the Spanish Inquisition,”) you gotta’ hand it to Voltaire. He was mocking Church rules in writing. . . during the Spanish Inquisition. Which landed him in the Bastille at least once. (That’s dedication to art.)

“In Italy,” Voltaire wrote of 1750’s church practices, “they are caponizing 2000-3000 boys a year,” because they felt these castrati could out-compete women singing in the choir (sounds somewhat familiar 250 years later) and also, as Voltaire quipped through our protagonist Candide, because men who are lacking a pair are “better suited to serve as heads of state.” (I said he was “cheeky.”)

Like Forrest Gump, Candide spends the entire book wandering the earth, chasing a girl, Cunégonde, but keeps getting sidetracked. He gets kidnapped into the Bulgarian army to fight in the 7 Years War, where he was beaten nearly to death, before escaping, only to be captured (seemingly two pages later) by the Spanish Inquisition, where his best friend is done away with in an auto-da-fé” (act of faith).

All of these things were common back then. The Catholic Church apparently decided that an auto-da-fé (publicly roasting a few undesirable people which they didn’t like anyway), would be pleasing to God and would ward off natural disasters like the Lisbon earthquake of 1755 which destroyed the city by a successive earthquake, tsunami and then fire consumed what remained. Apparently because they hadn’t roasted enough people.

While wandering the earth, Candide gets rich, almost by accident, is preyed upon by almost everyone he meets, and just like Forrest Gump with Jenny, he is finally reunited with the love of his life. Although recoiling in horror at the sight of what has also happened to her. He then grudgingly marries her anyway and decides to just tend his own garden.

A Tale of Two Cities. Voltaire died in 1778. The French revolution started in 1789. Meaning, the French Revolution and the American Revolution happened almost simultaneously. As horror stories go, it might be best to think of the French Revolution, as what might happen if the American Revolution had gone horribly wrong (and there were a comic-book, Bizzarro Universe, that we might have lived instead.)

That is the setting of A Tale of Two Cities. Maybe our American revolution worked out better, because unlike the French, the American revolution was started by a bunch of rich guys with comparatively speaking, no real reason to revolt in the first place. (If you can imagine Jeff Bezos and Mark Zuckerberg pouring tea into Boston Harbor, what would be the point?)

According to Dickens account, The French Revolution was started by a bunch of bitter little old ladies (the tricoteuses), sewing names of enemies they don’t like (who probably didn’t know they existed) into a blanket.

And then everything that could go wrong, did, in France’s nightmare fueled alternate universe. (Heck, unlike America, the French even lost WWII to Hitler.) In the French universe, the revolution was more like a “zombie apocalypse,” called the “Reign of Terror” from 1793-1794. They murdered everybody, from the King, Louis the VXI , the queen, Marie Antionette, and then everyone else they hated, as fast as little old ladies could sew names into a blanket. When they ran out of enemies, they started murdering each other.

All of this lasted and The Reign of Terror only ended, when a strong man dictator named Napoleon cam to power, who turned out to have world-dominating ambitions par with literally Hitler. So, yeah, that happened.

To add insult to injury, all this nightmare might not have happened in France, except when the women revolutionaries went to fetch King Louis XVI, they discovered him missing (he had tried to flee to Varennes), but couldn’t resist leaving a note pinned to the bed, which essentially said “screw you guys, Marie Antionette and I never liked you anyways.”

“Hell, hath no fury,” I suppose. This really pissed them off and started the Reign of Terror. So, yeah, things could have gone better in this universe.

Les Misérables. If “brevity is the essence of wit,” (Voltaire’s Candide fits into my front shirt pocket) then gravitas is the essence of Victor Hugo’s tale of “misery.” At over 1200 pages, you could chock the wheels of a 747 with Les Misérables. But I read it anyway, so you don’t have to. And it is also a horror story. But, time is getting late.

Essentially, Les Misérables takes place after A Tale of Two Cities, between 1815 and 1832. And they have a guy, Napoleon III, who actually didn’t leave office, and instead, named himself emperor after his presidential term ended and he couldn’t run again.

But, at least he wasn’t “orange.” And for Halloween purposes, the rule of Napoleon III was called the “Second Empire,” which gave us the name for the very creepy style of house depicted in The Adams Family.

So go, go have some fun on Halloween. What YouTube wants us to worry will still be here tomorrow.

History shows, people are pretty resilient and have survived much, much worse.

My Musical High School Reunion

By: Martin Merritt, esq.
Past President, Texas Health Lawyers Association
Past Chair, DBA Health Law Section
martin@martinmerritt.com

“Please Tell Me you Didn’t. . . How to Keep Clients Out of the Jailhouse, Poorhouse and Lawyers Out of the Nuthouse” -Blog


As you can tell, I love talking about health law & litigation issues, and general wellbeing, if you have any health law questions or better yet, need to refer a case, just call or drop me an email and I will happily talk.


Today, I am preparing to time-travel home with my son and daughter from Dallas to Columbus, Mississippi, where I am going to perform an acoustic set of 1970s hits for my 45th high school reunion (James Taylor, Gordon Lightfoot, etc.).

But the 1970s holds emotional scars for me, as it also brings back the memory of my parent’s hallway, which was a Wayne’s World “wall of shame”— photographs of us kids frozen in time in our most embarrassing fashion mistakes— in a decade that was nothing but a fashion mistake.

What made things worse, is that Columbus, Mississippi is a river town frozen in time, with ancient magnolia trees, antebellum homes and a postcard-perfect Main Street that looks exactly the same as it did 100 years ago. Frankly, lots of building in the south are “old” only because no one can afford to replace them.

But after a fashion born in 1970’s San Francisco, most little towns and their old main street stores had given way to “hippie” shops with black light posters, incense, lava lamps and bean bags for sale, which only made the abomination that was the 1970s stand out more against the backdrop of the Old South. This wasn’t a gradual change either. It happened overnight.

Before that, in the early 70s, we were still kids who wore clothes you would find on television’s Leave it to Beaver. Summer days were long, hot and lazy. Southern children didn’t think anything of going without shoes or shirts from June to September. We made our fun where we found it, out of whatever we had to hand. We climbed trees, we built forts and made Evil Knievel ramps out of plywood and dirt.

But the best part was swimming in the rivers. A dozen of us 10-12 year old’s would take off on our bikes down dirt roads to swim. Mostly in the rivers, but gravel pits would do in a pinch. We also did this without money, food, cell phones or adult supervision— about 14 hours every day.

Then, we kids grew up and went to high school where something wonderful happened— we discovered girls just about same the time Peter Frampton and Kiss “came alive.” More to the point, we discovered that we liked girls, and girls liked bands. So, we wanted to imitate them. We bought Sears Silvertone guitars and little tiny Fender Amps and tried to imitate what we saw to impress the girls.

The closest place to watch bands like Aerosmith or Boston for us in Mississippi was Rickwood Field in Birmingham, Alabama. Built in 1910, it is is now the oldest operating baseball park in America. The field’s longevity and the title “America’s Oldest” is really just a happy consequence of the fact that there was never a need to build anything larger to replace it.

But the best part for us, was that we got to stand in the outfield where they put the stage, 10 feet away from every band you could name from the 1970’s. Concert tickets cost $5.00 and were “general admission.” I don’t think in the 1970’s “expensive seats” were a thing anyone had thought of yet.

We just had to get there early and we could just walk right up to the stage and stake out a spot. And in our youth we could stand in one spot for hours without having to go pee. (I am talking to you, prostate).

And we were a sight, all “knees and elbows” in our ridiculous haircuts, crepe shoes with thick wavy soles, concert T shirts — clueless and awkward adolescent boys, standing right in front of the guy in Kansas singing “Dust in the Wind” or Bob Seger singing “Night Moves”— without having any idea who these guys were. (Leftoverture and Night Moves hadn’t made the charts yet.) We were hearing these songs for the first time, as they sang them live.

We saw Boston, when “More than a Feeling” was topping the charts, Ann and Nancy Wilson of Heart, when they still had the guitarist who ran around on stage barefoot playing “Barracuda.” We saw Van Halen, when they still had David Lee Roth and AC/DC before Bon Scott died.

AC/DC was one of many “gimmick” bands in the 70s, they had this little guy running all over the stage in a schoolboy uniform. Alice Cooper had a guillotine. Cheap Trick was comprised of two handsome rock stars and two nerds, who looked as uncool as . . . well, “us.”

Most of the bands were just really talented —Rush, Aerosmith, Ted Nugent, Journey, Boston, Styx, Bad Company, The Isley Brothers— we couldn’t be them, but stood so close we felt we were “almost famous.” (Another 10 feet, and we would have made it.)

But then, we didn’t need to be “world famous,” we just needed to be good enough for Columbus, Mississippi. So, we practiced guitar every day and I did my best to sing at parties, but realized I probably needed to get a day job, so I went law school, and things worked out okay.

Then 45 years later — the phone rang and it was “Columbus, Mississippi” calling. I was the only one they could afford, seeing as I would do it for free. And that is how I came to be performing this Saturday for the Columbus High Class of 1980.

Sure, the high school girls I fancied 45 years ago are now grandmothers and great grandmothers. Its “circle of life” thing that you learn not to fight. And best of all, my kids will be there, whom we taught to have a better fashion sense than we did in the 70s.

And maybe that is the best a parent can do for a child— to tell them they will come to regret being photographed in some ridiculous fashion (they’ll thank you later.)

Got a Drinking Problem? How the TMB Handles Alcohol Issues

By: Martin Merritt, esq.
Past President, Texas Health Lawyers Association
Past Chair, DBA Health Law Section
martin@martinmerritt.com

“Please Tell Me you Didn’t. . . How to Keep Clients Out of the Jailhouse, Poorhouse and Lawyers Out of the Nuthouse” -Blog


As you can tell, I love talking about health law & litigation issues, and general wellbeing, if you have any health law questions or better yet, need to refer a case, just call or drop me an email and I will happily talk.


“Do I have a drinking problem?” This question, for mere mortals, is typically one of definition. Whether you are in denial, or just a social drinker, you might want to haggle over what exactly constitutes a “drinking problem?”

But, if you are a doctor (which is sort of a “superpower”), the Texas Medical Board isn’t going to play around with definitions. The Texas Medical Board works alongside the Texas Physician Health Program (“PHP”), which is the state agency in Texas tasked with monitoring doctors who may not be able to practice safely due to an impairing or potentially impairing health condition.

If you are a doctor and you land here, I can offer these general pointers, which might also be helpful for people who aren’t doctors, but could learn a thing or two from the “tough love” way the medical board handles alcohol.

Number one, at the TMB you have a “drinking problem” until proven otherwise. If you land either at the Texas Medical Board or the Texas Physician Health Program, either from a self-report or a third- party report, and the word “alcohol” is in the complaint, you are considered to automatically have a “drinking problem” until proven otherwise.

It doesn’t matter that you agree. In fact, whether you agree is irrelevant, as this “denial” is precisely the thing a person with a drinking problem would attempt to sell to get his “bot bot” back.

Importantly, and I can’t emphasize this enough to my doctors, “it’s not about you.” (Even though it is.) The Texas Medical Board views this situation as one in which they now have your “drinking problem” to deal with. The question becomes for the medical board, “what do they need to do to protect the public?,” while they get you back on the right track.

Number two, there are two tracks, disciplinary and the PHP Program. Assuming no one has been injured, and you are not an immediate threat to public welfare that requires suspension, you will be offered the opportunity to voluntarily enter the PHP program. If you don’t accept this offer, you can go the disciplinary route, which will probably land you right back in the PHP program.

Experts at the Texas Physician Health Program on the PHP website explain the reason for this, that the “work environment” is typically the last place problems with alcohol show up. The aim here is to halt any kind of drinking problem, on whatever level it might be, before it threatens patient safety.

Number three, if you land at the PHP program, your drinking days are likely over. The typical concern of a doctor in this situation is often one of personal embarrassment and possibly concern over lifestyle implications. This might not seem fair. You might be right. These agencies are not trying to be “fair.” They are trying to make sure you are not a danger to the public. It just makes sense, if they are going to risk getting this wrong, it will be on the side of caution.

Number four, you usually won’t be disciplined if you enter the PHP Program. The benefit of entering the PHP program is that you won’t be punished, as if you are a “bad person.” They just want to make sure you are not a danger. That’s why your drinking days are over.

Number five, they are not going to trust you. You will be given every test available, from hair follicle analysis (which is both qualitative and quantitative for substances), a lie detector test, and an in-person interview. I could be wrong here, but I think the lie detector test is less diagnostic, and more to help ensure that you tell the truth in the interview.

Number six, unless all the tests are negative, you likely will be asked to sign a contract in which you agree to refrain from drinking for a period of time. Five years is common, and you will be required to go to AA meetings. You will also likely be required to agree to monitoring for some period of time and random toxicology testing. This makes sure that you have kept your promise not to drink.

Number seven, if you fail any of the agreed terms of your PHP contract, you will be reported to the Medical Board for disciplinary action. You end up back in the disciplinary track. The board might shout a little louder this time. This could include either an active or probated suspension of your license, until you demonstrate that you are compliant.

If all this seems a bit harsh, you must see this from the viewpoint of the Texas Medical Board. The board members aren’t prescient and can’t tell from talking to you whether you are going to harm a patient due to alcohol. What they want you to do is quit drinking. That is the only way they know you aren’t a problem. And if they monitor you, then that means you know the medical board will find out if you start again, which makes you far less a concern to the board, and far less likely a danger to the public.

EKRA Criminal Law (CLIA Labs) 9th Cir. Issues Opinion in U.S. v. Schena

By: Martin Merritt, esq.
Past President, Texas Health Lawyers Association
Past Chair, DBA Health Law Section
martin@martinmerritt.com

“Please Tell Me you Didn’t. . . How to Keep Clients Out of the Jailhouse, Poorhouse and Lawyers Out of the Nuthouse” -Blog


As you can tell, I love talking about health law & litigation issues, and general wellbeing, if you have any health law questions or better yet, need to refer a case, just call or drop me an email and I will happily talk.


“Tall Poppy Syndrome.” Mark Schena owned and operated a small CLIA lab in California. (He’s also an idiot.) Schena hatched a scheme to pay marketers on a percentage basis, whom he instructed to target non-allergy specialists (including chiropractors and naturopathy practitioners), apparently because they could be more easily deceived by false and deceptive claims about Schena’s $5,000 – $10,000 allergy blood tests.

The reason I say he is an “idiot,” in part, is because he tried to get away with this to the tune of $77 million in billing. He billed more per patient that anyone in the country. This is what is known as “tripping the algorithm.” He ran 120 tests per patient, because that was the maximum amount his machines could run on any one patient sample.

For those of you unfamiliar with healthcare fraud, the general idea is that providers do not want to stand out above their peers, for fear of “tripping the algorithm” and catching “tall poppy syndrome.” (A phrase dating back to Roman times, meaning that the ones that stand out the tallest get their heads lopped off first.)

It’s a simple concept: In healthcare, you gotta constantly “read the room” to know where you stand. (Which seems to have been lost on this idiot.)

But also, he’s an idiot because Congress passed a statute in 2018, seemingly making percentage-based payments to marketers in the CLIA lab space. . . (oh, how did Congress put it?) Oh yeah. . . “a felony.”

Not surprisingly (at least to everybody, but Schena) the tallest poppy in the country was convicted and sentenced to 96 months in prison. I don’t know why he appealed (other than the case was argued in argued in Hawaii, which sounds like fun before you go to prison). He left a paper trial, after all, proving he’s an “idiot.” And a whole bunch of fellow conspirators testified, “he’s an idiot.” But, appeal, he did.

And now, the tallest poppy in the country, generated the first federal circuit court opinion on the meaning of the EKRA statute, issued July 11, 2025, in U.S v. Schena. (You can Google it.)

EKRA. In 2018, Congress passed the Elimination of Kickbacks in Recovery Act (“EKRA”) 18 USC §220, a criminal statute, to combat fraud and abuse with respect to referrals to a “recovery home, clinical treatment facility or laboratory.” This goes along with the existing federal AKS. You might say, applying these two laws, especially with respect to payments to marketers, is what keeps me in business. (It’s complicated.)

Although the title would indicate the EKRA law applies to kickbacks involving patients “in recovery homes” and treatment facilities, the word “laboratory” is not so limited. To the contrary, the word “laboratory” is specifically defined in para. (e) to include any CLIA laboratory (not just those serving patients “in recovery.”) This is the same with the federal AKS.

As a refresher, the original federal-payer Anti-Kickback statute which the 9th Cir. relied upon for context, (the “federal payer-AKS”), 42 USC 1320a-7b only applies to government payers. The 2018 EKRA statute extended the concept to payments to marketers, where the patient is covered by private insurances or “commercial” plans. (EKRA is for private-payer plans, the federal-payer AKS is for government plans.)

EKRA also applies to payments to doctors, but we didn’t have those facts present in this case. So this is really just as “marketer payments” case.

Under the federal-payer AKS safe harbors, you can pay W-2 employees any way you wish. However, independent contractors and marketing companies (as opposed to bona fide employees) usually must meet all the elements of the “personal services” safe harbor, which I explained in a 2014 Physicians Practice Article (Just Google, “Anti-Kickback Pitfall to Avoid: Sales Force Compensation,” it will pop right up.)

Notably the federal-payer AKS safe harbor requires: (1) the “aggregate compensation” must be set in advance (2) under a contract for at least a year, meaning the rate can’t vary during the year (3) the rate must be at “fair market value,” and (4) must use a method which doesn’t take into account success, or the value of the sales generated. This all but eliminates percentage based compensation.

EKRA’s more limited safe harbors, eliminate the distinction between bona fide employees and 1099 contractors (but only in commercial or private payer cases.) Both of these statutory sets of safe harbors essentially eliminate the availability of the safe harbor, if the payment to marketing personnel vary with success.

But (if you have followed this far) failure to meet the safe harbor doesn’t mean the payment is illegal, however. The government still must prove “illegality.” The safe harbor is an available affirmative defense to any claim of illegality. An “affirmative defense,” essentially is a legal concept which argues, “even if everything the plaintiff or government says is true, it still can’t win.” (“The statute of limitations has run”, for example.) Thus, if there is a safe harbor, it doesn’t matter that the conduct could otherwise implicate the Kickback statute.

And thus, the foundational question is becomes, “when is the payment illegal under EKRA?” Which is the subject of the Ninth Circuit opinion in Schena.

Schena’s holding. Borrowing from 5th Circuit federal-payer AKS opinions, the Schena court first observed that merely paying marketers on a “percentage” basis is not per-se illegal. This comes as a surprise to many observers. The Court reasoned, relying upon 5th Circuit precedent, that there must be something more, such as undue influence, deceptive marketing or some wrongful element of the marketing effort. Otherwise, ordinary “truthful” advertising would potentially be illegal.

I have often said this about federal-payer AKS marketing cases. There are First Amendment Commercial Free Speech issues involved, should the government attempt an industry-wide ban on the content of commercial speech, for example, paying someone to go say nice, truthful things about your lawful healthcare company, the content of which is neither false nor misleading. (See Virginia Board of Pharmacy, a 1976 seminal US Supreme Court Commercial Free Speech).

And for this reason, the government in both EKRA and federal-payer AKS cases, always alleges that the payment to marketers led to something amounting to “fraud” (medically unnecessary prescribing) or some other morally reprehensible referral (such as paying to steer legitimate, medically necessary referrals to the “highest bidder.”)

You might say that under the Schena analysis, EKRA doesn’t add anything substantive to “illegality” under the existing healthcare fraud statute, 18 USC 1347 (thou shalt not defraud a health insurance company.) Other than, perhaps a claim that the EKRA violation provided the “motive” for the salesperson to encourage fraudulent referrals.

And the element of garden variety “fraud” is what we have in spades in the Schena case. While truthful advertising might have been legal, Schena seems to have left a paper trail of activities in which he induced “improper referrals” under EKRA, by paying marketers to deceive naïve practitioners into making referrals for $77 million in useless, expensive allergy tests referred by practitioners who were deliberately targeted because they were not allergy specialists who would know better.

As a result, the Ninth Circuit had little difficulty concluding that Shena’s percentage-based payments to marketers violated EKRA, although percentage-based payments alone, would not have violated EKRA. It was the payment to induce improper referrals which is illegal under EKRA.

HHS Shutters Six of Ten Offices of General Counsel

By: Martin Merritt, esq.
Past President, Texas Health Lawyers Association
Past Chair, DBA Health Law Section
martin@martinmerritt.com

“Please Tell Me you Didn’t. . . How to Keep Clients Out of the Jailhouse, Poorhouse and Lawyers Out of the Nuthouse” -Blog


As you can tell, I love talking about health law & litigation issues, and general wellbeing, if you have any health law questions or better yet, need to refer a case, just call or drop me an email and I will happily talk.


“In a one-lawyer town, the lawyer starves to death, until a second moves in. Then they both get rich.”—old lawyer joke.

No one despises the policies of the federal government more than a tin-foil hatted conspiracy theorist. (But standing right next to them— is me.) That doesn’t mean I don’t like fighting with the lawyers that work for the government. The ones in Dallas are very easy to get along with, or at least used to be.

But without a lawyer on the other side to fight with, I am basically just “screaming at clouds.” (Me and the guy in the tin-foil hat.)

In March the US Department of Health and Human Services announced the closure of six of 10 regional offices of general counsel, in Boston, New York, Chicago, Dallas, San Francisco and Seattle. The remaining offices will be in Atlanta, Denver, Philadelphia, and Kansas City.

According to the HHS website, “the Office of the General Counsel (OGC) is the legal team for the Department of Health and Human Services (HHS), providing quality representation and legal advice on a wide range of highly visible national issues.”

One assistant general counsel I spoke with last week, who is losing his job in the Dallas office, said “they have no plans to replace us, or move us to the four remaining offices.”

Why does this matter to Healthcare clients?

Let’s take “revocations” of NPI numbers, where providers can lose the ability to bill insurance (Medicare and Private), simply because they CMS wrote them a letter. You have to appeal to get it back.

I tried an NPI Revocation case in 2021 with a fully staffed OGC. HHS administratively revoked my client’s NPI for 10 years.

While the first level (DAB) lowered the revocation to 3 years, when we appealed to the ALJ, we didn’t get an answer for two more years, during which time, the doctor was not allowed to submit any claims to CMS. And this was with a fully staffed OGC. Can you imagine what will happen with 6 of 10 offices closed?

Okay, So what’s an NPI number revocation? A national provider identifier number is a way for the HHS to control doctors and providers. HHS can terminate the doctor’s ability to earn a living by writing them a letter, if the government is displeased in any of a growing number of ways listed under 42 C.F.R. §424.535(a):

  • Noncompliance
  • Provider conduct
  • Felonies
  • False or misleading information
  • Failing an onsite review
  • Misuse of billing number
  • Abuse of billing privileges
  • Failure to report
  • Failure to provide documentation
  • Reserve funds requirements
  • Termination from other programs, like Medicaid
  • Loss of DEA Certificate
  • Improper prescribing
  • False Claims Act Judgment
  • Debt referred to the US Treasury
  • Patient harm

A physician could continue to see patients, during the appeal of a suspension or revocation, but ordinarily must hold the claims until his NPI number suspension is reversed. Which, as I noted, took me two years to push an appeal through, when the OGC was fully staffed.

I have no idea how anyone is going to get any relief, if no one can have a hearing. I can “scream at clouds” all I like, but they generally don’t answer me back.

“Jennifer’s Law” Texas New IV Drip Bar Law Takes Effect Sept. 1st

By: Martin Merritt, esq.
Past President, Texas Health Lawyers Association
Past Chair, DBA Health Law Section
martin@martinmerritt.com

“Please Tell Me you Didn’t. . . How to Keep Clients Out of the Jailhouse, Poorhouse and Lawyers Out of the Nuthouse” -Blog


As you can tell, I love talking about health law & litigation issues, and general wellbeing, if you have any health law questions or better yet, need to refer a case, just call or drop me an email and I will happily talk.


So as not to bury the lead, Texas has a new law for IV Drip Bars that takes effect this Monday, September 1, 2025 and requires “elective” IV infusion outside of a doctor’s office or a licensed institution to be administered by at least a registered nurse, following a good faith exam and medical clearance by at least a mid-level, who has a delegation and supervision agreement with a medical doctor or doctor of osteopathy who is licensed in Texas and who exercises proper supervision.

The new statute is to be located in Tex. Occ. Code 172.001 (good luck finding it using Google, which told me “Texas Occupations Code §172.001 does not exist, and there is no Chapter 172 in the Texas Occupations Code.”

Then, adding insult to injury, the patronizing little shit told me, “the user may be confusing it with one of the following statutes concerning arbitration or political subdivisions . . .” But I know better than to trust AI (unless it is right). So, what the heck is this all about?

200 Years of Texas Medical Practice in 500 words or less. Originally, doctors in Texas were simply townsfolk who decided to hang out a shingle and practice medicine; often in exchange for chickens and farm produce. The first licenses were issued by the Republic of Texas’ “Medical Board of Censors,” starting in 1837. But it wasn’t until 1891, that the first medical school in Texas graduated its first class in Galveston.

Not that the delay in education mattered all that much. It took a while for people to trust doctors, hospitals and institutions, because we didn’t know what “germs” were. People were born at home and died at home, because people didn’t get as sick at home as they did at hospitals.

Medical science progressed rapidly, once we figured out what “pathogens” are, and more particularly, what kills them. We first began cleaning up surfaces in institutions (see Joseph Lister, the “Listerine” guy). Then Alexander Fleming noticed bread mold (penicillin) killed germs in both petri dishes and inside people.

Pretty soon, doctors were working miracles and defeating all kinds of diseases. People began trusting hospitals and doctors. There wasn’t as much to fear about a hospital or a doctor’s office, as in-home outcomes were no longer better than medical facilities. And doctors were the “heroes” of the hour. What could possibly go wrong?

“The dream failed to take power into account.” And so it was, the AMA and the Texas Medical Board (founded in 1907) were “living the dream” and enjoyed complete sovereignty over the practice of medicine.

Politicians were scared of the power of the AMA, so much so, they wouldn’t do anything to upset doctors. That is, until Medicare came along in 1965, and for doctors, sovereignty went to hell in a handbasket. (Any time you hear “government promise,” remember two words, “monkey’s paw.”) Here’s why. . . .

Paul Starr’s 1982 The Social Transformation of American Medicine, begins with one of the greatest opening lines of any book ever to win the Pulitzer Prize on the subject of American Medicine. (Okay, I looked it up, there are only eight books that qualify, so it’s not quite the brag I thought it was.)

“The dream failed to take power into account,” simply put, means that doctors thought they could accept government Medicare money and the government would leave doctors alone, because the government isn’t qualified to tell doctors what to do.

Where did doctors get this crazy idea? Because that is what the government statutorily promised doctors in the very first section of the 1965 Medicare law. Here, look:

42 USC §1395. “Prohibition against any Federal interference.” Nothing in this subchapter [Medicare] shall be construed to authorize any Federal officer or employee to exercise any supervision or control over the practice of medicine or the manner in which medical services are provided or over the selection, tenure, or compensation of any officer or employee of any institution, agency, or person providing health services. . .”

It isn’t that the AMA didn’t warn doctors of this “monkeys paw.” Ronald Reagan Speaks Out Against Socialized Medicine, is an AMA produced album, part of “Operation Teacup” (it’s in Wikipedia) that warns doctors that every aspect of communism will be imported through Medicare regulations. It sounded a bit melodramatically silly, but you can’t say they weren’t warned.

But, “on the other hand, money,” doctors said. “Besides, the government wouldn’t lie to us, they love us,” they said. “There would be hell to pay if Medicare officials crossed the AMA,” others said.

But, there was so much money flying around, with no consequences, that the AMA appeared ridiculous, and membership plummeted (from 75% in 1950 to 15% in the 2000’s). And that’s when the trap was sprung. The government began passing rules (like a monkey stealing your French fries, a few at first. Then, more.) Then all hell broke loose with Stark law and HHS OIG agents who began showing up to work wearing badges and guns like the FBI.

Finding that they could get away with it, CMS began stomping all over the “promise of federal non-interference.” They wrote so many rules, the Fourth Circuit described it this way in Rehab. Ass’n v. Kozlowski, 42 F.3d 1444, 1450 (4th Cir. 1994) “Medicare and Medicaid statutes and rules are among the most completely impenetrable texts within human experience.”

All this regulation by the federal government led physicians, mid-level nurse practitioners and physicians assistants to hope to find another dream, a way to earn a living without accepting any insurance (Medicare is a kind of health insurance, just like private Blue Cross and United Healthcare, all of whom follow CMS rules.)

Then, as if by magic, smartphones developed cameras which face the user and “poof,” everybody is starring in their own movie (and they need to look good). MedSpas, IV Bars and all sorts of cash-only shops (a mash-up between medical practices and cosmetic beauty shops) began popping up, with little regulation as to precisely where “medical practice begins” when a customer plops down in a chair and says, “make me pretty.”

Pretty soon, IV Drip bars began advertising “bridal” packages, as a perk for bridesmaids, as much a part of the ritual as circus-tent taffeta gowns and bottomless mimosas.

In 2023, one such customer, Jennifer Cleveland, walked into a Med Spa in Fairfield, Texas, and received IV electrolytes without a medical exam, or medical clearance (probably without any real medical necessity), which was administered by an unlicensed person. There was also no plan for what would happen in an emergency. She died.

The Texas legislature then sprang into action the first chance it got, in 2025, as the Texas legislature only meets every two years (small mercies). The original bill attempted to regulate all MedSpas, but ended up only regulating elective IV therapy outside of a “medical practice.” (No definition of what that means.)

As I said, you can’t find the statute, Occ. Code 172.001 on a search engine, so you have to search the Bill number, House Bill 3749—known as Jenifer’s Law—signed into law on June 20, 2025.

“The Devil’s Advocate” How to Counsel Your Own Client

By: Martin Merritt, esq.
Past President, Texas Health Lawyers Association
Past Chair, DBA Health Law Section
martin@martinmerritt.com

“Please Tell Me you Didn’t. . . How to Keep Clients Out of the Jailhouse, Poorhouse and Lawyers Out of the Nuthouse” -Blog


As you can tell, I love talking about health law & litigation issues, and general wellbeing, if you have any health law questions or better yet, need to refer a case, just call or drop me an email and I will happily talk.


Much of my practice involves a “sensible application of law,” to a “sensible set of facts,” culminating in “sensible advice,” to a “sensible client.” You might say, it’s the professional equivalent to “drinking an Ambien-laced, decaf, soymilk latte while reading a phone book.” And that’s just fine.

Other times, usually in response to an unreasonable demand, I get to “come out of my shoes” offering some “recreational suggestions” to opposing counsel and/or “the horse he rode in on.” (It’s the most fun a lawyer can have with the lights on. And under Rule 408, what we say in negotiations is not admissible in court.)

The Devil’s Advocate. But every so often, I have to play “Devil’s Advocate” with a client. It is where, if I am going to do my job, I have to “flick shit” on whatever stupid idea my client has in his head.

This is the reason I named this blog, “Please Tell Me You Didn’t. . .” (Because it is the thing I say most often to clients.) This is usually muttered under my breath, with a combination of the following protective body language: “chin on my chest,” “eyes squinted closed,” “one hand on my forehead,” “both arms covering my chest” with “one hand locked on my elbow.”

This is called “protective behavior,” because we unconsciously cover body parts that are most vulnerable to attack, even if the attack on our senses is verbal, and coming from our own clients. (Your brain is in your head, so we cover our heads, we need our eyes to see, so we squint, our necks have arteries, so our chins lower, our chests are where we keep our hearts and lungs, so we cover them and so on.) You could also cover your ears, but you would run out of hands.

The term “Devil’s Advocate,” on the other hand, originated with the Catholic Church, where it was a formal position, the “Promoter of the Faith,” responsible for arguing against sainthood.

It is the job of counsel, then, in playing “Devil’s Advocate” to “find the stupid” in a proposed course of action. In my practice, this can be a little bit like playing “Where’s Waldo,” in which a client paints an elaborate picture of his plans, and my job is to find the “little guy in the striped sweater,” representing “what’s wrong with this picture.”

Other times, anybody can see what the client is doing wrong. I just have to get through their thick skulls (and try to get them to promise to behave) which looks a little like administering this oath :

“I . . .[Answer: “I”]

“State your name. . .[Answer: “God’s own dumbass”]

“Promise” . . .[Answer: “Okay. . .”]

“Not to flush my career down the toilet. . .[Answer: But what if. . .]”

“The Case of the Amorous Therapist.” My old boss had one of the best (and simplest) ways of counseling us, when one of his lawyers came to him to complain about a difficult assignment, he would look at us incredulously and say, “this isn’t therapy, just do it.”

Clients are a little different, in that they are “paying customers.” In any other business, they are “always right.” While you don’t want to run them off, we are ethically obligated to put their interests ahead of our own, and that sometimes calls for telling them things they might not want to hear. (See also, “tough love.”)

Case in point, I had a psychotherapist who came to see me last week. She had developed “feelings” for a patient. She was 40, her patient was 24, who came to see her for “depression” and “suicidal ideation.”

I thought, “Please Tell Me You Didn’t. . .” (Well, of course she “did.”) That is when I also felt the urge, like “Dr. Strangelove,” to fight to keep my arm from reaching for my forehead. But, she had moved the patient to another therapist.

The problem, as she saw it, was “how best to continue the affair, while minimizing the chances the licensing board would throw the book at her.”

“Maybe I could give up clinical practice,” she said, “and switch to an administrative position.” I asked her what the patient did for a living. “He doesn’t work,” she said. I answered, “he’s cute as a puppy, isn’t he?”

She searched for words, but I cut her her off and I asked, “may I play Devil’s Advocate. . .”

She consented. And it went like this:

“You do realize that this kid, with his “James Dean, Rebel Without a Cause act,” intends to sit on your couch, under your roof, playing video games all day, while you bring home the paycheck? How long do you think that is going to last, if neither of you have a job? How long will this last if he doesn’t get a job?”

“But, he also has “emotional blackmail” material (“if you leave me I will . . .”) and “legal blackmail” material (“if you dump me, I will turn you into the licensing board”). While his parents might just do it the first, (or anytime) he complains to them about you.”

I then took a chance, and asked if my client had seen the episode of Parks and Recreation, with the “Tammy Deprogramming” scene (it is 3 minutes on YouTube), where Ron Swanson and Leslie Knope employ a “Pavlovian technique” to convince a coworker to break off a destructive relationship. (Ron sprays the woman’s perfume, “Girth,” in the guy’ face, while each time, Leslie slaps him across the face. . . until the bottle runs out.)

This bit of humor, which my client had seen, was just the break I needed to drive the point home:

“The question isn’t, ‘how can you do this and not get caught.’ The question is, ‘what the hell is wrong with you, that this affair sounds like a good idea?’ Someone needs to shove you against the wall, spray his cologne in your face and slap you until you come to your senses.”

Not everyone can get away with being as direct as I tend to be. But, the key to counseling, I believe, is to get permission to play “Devil’s Advocate,” and warn the client you are going to go as hard as necessary. “Do I have permission?”

If it gets too rough (more than the client can handle), remind them, “look, I am just playing devil’s advocate on your behalf, this is the way the licensing board (or whomever will administer the consequence) will treat you. “I am not doing my job, if I don’t point these things out for you to consider.”

It also helps to remember, it isn’t always going to work. We can’t control the outcome, we can only control our own conduct. Do the right thing, and pray it gets through to them. As my old boss would tell his lawyers, “It’s not therapy. Just do it.”

The Case of the Velvet Claws. A Remedy for “Social Media Burnout.”

By: Martin Merritt, esq.
Past President, Texas Health Lawyers Association
Past Chair, DBA Health Law Section
martin@martinmerritt.com

“Please Tell Me you Didn’t. . . How to Keep Clients Out of the Jailhouse, Poorhouse and Lawyers Out of the Nuthouse” -Blog


As you can tell, I love talking about health law & litigation issues, and general wellbeing, if you have any health law questions or better yet, need to refer a case, just call or drop me an email and I will happily talk.


At the Tom Thumb grocery store near my house, there works a special needs kid named “Antonio.” I don’t know how it began, but if he is working, no matter how far into the store I have managed to make it, he will eventually catch up with me and give me a great big hug and ask about my day.

I don’t know which one of us gets more out of it (not that many people are even a little bit happy to see me, maybe that means I need more friends.) I just learned a long time ago, it’s best not to “question the magic.”

Questioning the Magic. Case in point, in 2019, Carson King, an Iowa State football fan held up a poster behind the national pregame broadcast which read, “Busch Light Supply Needs Replenished. Venmo Carson-King-25.” It was meant to be a joke. But, before he knew it, he had thousands of dollars in donations.

Carson then decided he would take $18 and buy a case of Bud Light, then donate the rest to the Children’s Hospital located on the campus of Iowa State’s rival, the University of Iowa. This is, if you haven’t heard of it, is the children’s hospital which overlooks the Iowa Hawkeye’s stadium. During Iowa football games, the fans stop, turn and wave to the children in the hospital.

Eventually, the story of Carson King’s generosity caught national attention. What started as a joking request for beer money, ultimately raised $3 million for the children’s hospital. (Sunshine, football and beer. What could possibly go wrong?)

Then (sunofabitch) somebody just had to “question the magic.” Somebody dug up a social media tweet, a 16 year-old Carson probably shouldn’t have tweeted. It reminded me of my sainted Mississippi mother would frequently shake her head, then mutter under her breath, whenever we kids destroyed something she kinda wanted to keep, “I can’t have nuthin.’’

As it turned out somebody on the internet (the kind that love to tear good things down) decided to see if they could find something a 16 year-old Carson King would come to regret tweeting, And of course if you go looking for the bad in people (we all have a “shadow self” according to Carl Jung) you will find it. In this case, it was a re-tweeted joke that the 16 year old Carson had seen on Comedy Central’s “Tosh.O.”

As a consequence, Anheuser-Busch had to pull its affiliation with Carson King and his support of the Children’s Hospital, so as not to offend the perpetually offended. This takedown came from the offended “left,” and seems something of a matching “bookend” with the Dylan Mulvaney Anheuser-Busch beer can putsch. Where people on the offended “right” were so outraged by a kid that looked like Audrey Hepburn, they literally started shooting their own beer.

As a defense lawyer, I don’t try to moralize about people doing stupid things. I just accept they will. But, I do come bearing gifts. Stop paying attention to social media and all those millions of posts just flow unnoticed, through an invisible sewer and harmlessly out into the sea of inconsequence, as if they never existed.

The Case of the Velvet Claws. In law school, I watched every episode of Perry Mason, one of the first-ever television shows, about a criminal defense lawyer, which ran from 1957-1966. I can’t tell you how much I love mid-Century nostalgia. Even the furniture. There is something safe about the past (just don’t “question the magic.”) I even have three very large, framed black and white prints from the Perry Mason TV show on my office wall.

But I never knew there were any Perry Mason “books.” Then I came across one in an antique mall, which was almost 100 years old, with yellowed pages so delicate, I was afraid to open it. I bought it for display and then went looking online for a copy I could actually read without tearing the pages.

Well, imagine my surprise, Earl Stanley Gardner wrote 78 full-length Perry Mason novels beginning with The Case of the Velvet Claws in 1933. With sales of 300 million books, Perry Mason books sales rank 3rd all-time behind Harry Potter and Goosbumps.

They are full-size novels, you can get them in any form you like on the internet, from decorative antique hard copies, original paperbacks, or a series of newly printed versions with art deco or mid-century artwork on the dustjackets. They are actually a fun read, even if you aren’t a defense lawyer. When I finish these, I might take up Dashiell Hammett.

If Perry Mason novels isn’t your thing, I bet if you give it a shot, you can find something to read, some grass to walk on, or some special needs human in a grocery store who needs a hug. (Just don’t question the magic.)