Perusing for a lawyer to defend one in court is a lot like perusing for a doctor to perform a colonoscopy—you don’t really want to be in the position to require their services, but, when the need is undeniable and inescapable, it is, shall we say, preferable to nab a good one. Personally, I will admit, having had no experience with the criminal justice system on one side or another up until I found myself ever so undeniably and inescapably requiring of the services of Mr. Boggs and his associates (including his lovely wife/co-captain), the notion of a ‘good lawyer’ seemed almost to be no more than a contradiction in terms. In fact, when I first came across read over a few featured summaries of his cases, I quipped to a family member, “Ah, now here is some top-shelf scum!” But, gladly, I found this to be very, very far from the truth. Upon our first meeting, I steadily, if only gradually ‘unclenched’ as it became all too abundantly clear that Mr. Boggs measured himself on an axis of reason, and conducted such measurements to a standard of excellence. Given the extremely personal—and personally extreme—nature of my case, I had been recoiling inwards at the thought of a foreign party entering into the deliberations; like some invasive species… And yet, his involvement swiftly revealed itself to not only be benign, but decidedly beneficial to the balance and preservation of the ecosystem, and, to my cautious surprise, I felt that I had stumbled into the company of an individual who was almost absurdly qualified to ascertain the delicate particularities of my legal—and emotional—situation, and that, sitting across from me at the opposite end of a humorously long conference table, was a friend in my corner. Upon the meeting’s close, I walked out the door of the Boggs & Levin offices, called that very same family member formerly mentioned, and told them to forget all about the ’scum’ comment. And we did. As the case unfolded, Mr. Boggs proved himself again and again to be a reservoir of professional tact and common sense. As I once articulated to him, his catch phrase ought to be written in stone as, “Look…”. Not once did he attempt to patronize nor anesthetize me by jangling keys of hollow optimism in front of my face. That said, being a bit of a purveyor of fairy-dust myself, he did not allow this proclivity for ‘ground floor’ thinking to dampen his enthusiasm for our success. He communicated the realities of the situation thoroughly and precisely, and kept me in stable orbit around the circumstances which I was facing. I felt perpetually assured that he was standing up not only for my rights, but for my character as well—despite and in light of one or two monkey wrenches which I threw into the proceedings (who gives a monkey a wrench, anyhow?). There are two things which one can be certain of when enlisting Mr. Boggs: that he can think on his feet, and that one can stand on his thinking. As the case closed, to my indescribable relief, the verdict was, as he predicted, in my favour—at least, to the degree that rationality allowed; or, in other words, to the highest degree possible. Though he had made no promises to me, he had comprehensively upheld his duties as a lawyer, and as a human being. Standing behind the glass of a booth in a courtroom can be, as I have discovered, a rather dehumanizing experience. But if there is anyone who made such a cold place a little warmer for a young man in over his head, it was Mr. Boggs, and if there is anything which got me out of that cold place, back into the sunshine of a crumbling parking lot which I hoped never again to see in my life, it was his diabolical—yet honourably wielded—expertise. And now, there remains only one thing left to be said… Look… Raymond Boggs is a good lawyer.