Customer Reviews

Happy Hour Is for Amateurs: A Lost Decade in the World's Worst Profession

5 star:		(40)
4 star:		(14)
3 star:		(12)
2 star:		(5)
1 star:		(4)

 

 

Half-memoir, half-gonzo, Happy Hour Is For Amateurs is greater than the sum of its autobiographical parts. Ultimately, the book is a morality play; the deadly sins are sacrificing happiness for a paycheck and perpetuating the status quo in a morally bankrupt industry.

Some readers may object to the author's profanity and depiction of drug and alcohol use--of course, some readers call Mark Twain "racist" and Aldous Huxley "immoral." In other words, if you have a weak constitution or delicate sensibilities, this book probably isn't for you.

This book is for: (1) every worker who's ever felt like a cog or an itinerant, (2) every person who thinks, "this is as good as it gets for me," and (3) anyone who enjoys funny, insightful writing on topics most people can relate to. From the book: "There's an accidental wisdom in following. Letting something else define you narrows the decisions you have to make. It gives you parameters, a track to follow and a holiday from all the angst that comes with carving your own path." `Following' is exactly what some people need--this book is for everyone else.

Happy Hour Is For Amateurs is not a book about being a lawyer, it's a book about being unsatisfied with what you do. (Though it's completely, depressingly accurate if you want to know what the actual practice of law is like for the majority of attorneys.) It's about settling and the push-pull of childhood dreams--and adult dreams--against the weight of responsibility and expectations. Philalawyer escaped, and most of us haven't, a fact sure to generate equal measures of envy and hostility. Either way, this book is compulsory reading for every disaffected office monkey, every fungible bureaucrat.

The writing is always serviceable and frequently soars. Some readers may quibble with the non-linear style--but this isn't a novel, and each chapter contributes something important on the way to understanding the overall ethic of the author. The momentum slows very occasionally, but the humor underlying each vignette is more than enough to
excuse the occasional digression.

Lawyers, in particular, will nod their heads in agreement or sympathy throughout Philalawyer's book. Equity partners in big law firms might not get it, and associates on the same track will probably ignore it. The rest of us will say, "Thank you," and buy him a drink.

The introductory author's note concludes with Sergeant Hulka's memorable line from Stripes "Lighten up, Francis" and it sets the tone for what's to come. Occasionally, pre-release examination copies will cross my desk, but this was the first book to inspire me to jump on Amazon and write a review.

Happy Hour is for Amateurs is not for everyone. If you're easily offended, you might do better to avoid the book. More importantly, if you rely on cognitive dissonance to get through 9-5 life, then the book might shake your fragile mental farce a little too violently.

Philadelphia Lawyer tells the story of a young man fresh out of college who is beaten down over the course of a decade in the legal profession. The lines between work and play, misery and happiness are often blurred, and each chapter is a slightly different take following an overarching theme of discontent leading to self-actualization. Perhaps the author's greatest strength is his ability to maintain a fast-paced, page-turning plot while interspersing insightful anecdotes that put into words all the random thoughts I've had about corporate culture, leaving me wondering "why the hell didn't I write this?" Yet, at the same time, I realize that it takes great craft to make life's mundanity compelling.

Philadelphia Lawyer writes like a man who isn't afraid to write. So often writers are concerned with what others might think; what literary conventions or technicalities to abide by in order to appeal to a certain crowd, but in this book the language comes relentless and unrestrained. Pop culture references from the last half century blend seamlessly with serious deliberations on legal culture and its implications on sanity. Finally, somebody is writing in an honest way about the world the forty and under population grew up in.

Immersed in a mass of workaholic drones all too eager to bill their way to the top, the narrator turns to mind-altering substances to cope with his sad reality. His sexual exploits left me laughing and cringing all at once, but the trick is Philadelphia Lawyer tells the story like you're in on the joke. One doesn't have to identify exactly with his debauchery, but instead with the potential of that act's occurrence. That maybe, if the stars had aligned differently, it might have been me running from the cops in a blizzard - merely entertaining the thought reminds us that the world isn't as serious as everyone seems to make it out to be.

Our egos are padded from childhood to make us believe there is a greater purpose behind all our actions. Despite what we're led to believe sometimes life really is a ridiculous charade - the only purpose being that there is none. Everybody has to earn a paycheck, and the need for food and shelter is a real one. Somehow in our drive to provide, we start taking everything serious. We forget how to take a joke and laugh at ourselves. Philadelphia Lawyer reminds us that enjoying the ride is more important than the end goal.

The sad truth is that without the humor, the subject would be an unbearable read. Hardly a page goes by without negative adjectives such as "rotten" "awful" "terrible" or "atrocious." As someone unaccustomed to the legal climate, the daily drudgery experienced within the plot really begin to wear. Just when I think "this can't possible get any worse" it does. I imagine lawyers may find themselves offended, but if so, they are missing the point. Philadelphia Lawyer does not blame the players, he blames a corrupt and immoral game. Nonetheless the players - whether a thirty year old gunner looking for the next promotion or a twenty-something drug dealer looking to latch on to anything - are held responsible for their own existence.

Among all the vulgarity and belligerence there is a very real message communicated. That message will resonate differently with everyone, but "do what you love and love what you do" sums it up nicely for me. Unfortunately it takes the legal profession, a concentrated embodiment of every occupational evil, to demonstrate what we're all failing to see. The end goal of life isn't to die.

For a first effort, it's no wonder Philadelphia Lawyer is already making waves in the legal and publishing community. A fresh voice that has emerged from a thankless, empty lifestyle with something to offer all of us. Happy Hour is for Amateurs is a book I recommend to anyone that's ever sat in a pub and complained about their day.

And Francis, before you get all worked up and self-righteous, remember: if you can't laugh at yourself, then everyone else will do it for you.

This was an enormously entertaining book.

But before I jump into the superlatives, I think it's important to make a distinction between this book and the other bourbon-soaked tales of anal sex and professionally hazardous hangovers that this emerging genre has seen over the past few years. This book is more than the sum of its drugs, fornication and booze - it is a crushing social critique of a respected profession and of thousands of its practitioners. The author attacks the American legal system as a complicit antihero, publishing a decade worth of subversion. He portrays the frenetic courtroom, the golden shackles that bind him to his work and the familiar (for some of us) haze of substance abuse. Based on 10 years that would have driven most to a Xanax prescription, he manages to write one of the funniest books I've ever read.

And that's really what matters, right? Sure, there are strokes of brilliance and the sort of introspection that makes you want to step back and re-examine your own life. But there is also a swimsuit model trying to shoot herself in the face with a taser, a hockey team locked in the back of a Uhaul with a keg and few naked lesbians thrown in for good measure. And that's what life should be about.

Formulating my thoughts on this book took me a little while. This is due in part, I feel, to the author's willful disregard for the molds I like to fit books into. It's refreshing to read books like this - ones that challenge you. Fortunately, for all its complexity, it never loses itself; the tangents of the narrative never detract from the point. It is painfully funny and brutally honest; the sordid confession from a man who is not the least bit sorry.

I recommend it wholeheartedly.

From the time I was a kid my parents said law might be a good career choice for me. I wanted to be a professional soccer player at the time, but you might as well have a backup plan. Naturally it seemed like a good choice because I loved to argue. And why not, I was good at it. It wasn't until I was a little bit older when I looked around at my friend's parents who were lawyers, former lawyers-turned-professors, and realized that not many of them enjoyed the job. And if they didn't, how would I?

Happy Hour Is For Amateurs gives a great account of exactly what is wrong with the profession. Philadelphia Lawyer explains exactly the type of people that you will meet on your journey through "the world's worst profession." Billable hours, awful partners, golden handcuffs. The writer takes you on a journey with his life as the guide.

Where Philadelphia Lawyer truly shines in this book though is in his absolutely astute observational ability. He picks up on societal cues, work culture, nuances, and interesting subtleties about everyday life. And when you sit down and think about it you realize how right Philadelphia Lawyer is. He sees the world with a focused lens for deconstruction and explanation.

Whether the writer is talking about life in college, the terrible age of 26, or working in that career you loathe going to, his assertions are always clever and correct. An amazing gift in my opinion.

Ten years is a long time in a career as soul-breaking as law, but if there is one thing Philadelphia Lawyer cemented in my mind. It is that I am truly glad I did not take the gentle advice of my parents and start a career in law. If this book is an indicator of what might happen to a person trapped, I wonder what would have happened to me?

Happy Hour Is for Amateurs conveys a friend-to-friend type of honesty that is rarely exposed in the professional world, without having to buy the drinks. Blindly diving into a profession that seemed good in theory, PhilaLawyer begins to notice that a paycheck fails to rationalize the tedious and mind numbing work. To get away from a career path that repels his zest for discovery and recklessness, PhilaLawyer undergoes countless daring and exciting adventures in attempts to escape the boredom and exhaustion. Progressing towards a goal that is often uncertain, motivated by anything that drowns out the work, many life affirming lessons and self-discoveries are weaved into the page-turning stories.

PhilaLawyer has a unique ability to methodically deconstruct and observe obscure situations in a way that make the book a true pleasure to read. From cover to cover the book progresses nicely and never looses its appeal. Balancing stories of debauchery and legal insight, sometimes both, the book offers a glimpse into the life of a very interesting man who is as much a lawyer as he is an inebriate and modern philosopher. PhilaLawyer understands things all too well; trapped a world where he must maintain a split personality to fuel his better half.

I read somewhere that there are more lawyers than doctors, firefighters, and police combined. Why the heck do we need so many of them? What's the appeal of the legal profession? I hoped that "Happy Hour is for Amateurs" would answer these questions and also brief me on a typical lawyer's life. I found some of the information I sought, but this review's title, from a toast made during one of the author's many epic benders, pretty much sums up his lurid and irreverent journey to self-realization.

The author's silver tongue initially drew him to law. He figured his gift of gab would allow him to become a legal eagle and easily make a fat paycheck. However, he became disillusioned with being a lawyer soon after scoring his first slot out of law school. Hoping to redeem his career choice, he tried switching firms and specialties, but each position seemed worse than the last. Even constant partying and profuse medication with fornication, drugs, and alcohol couldn't kill his deepening despair. Somewhere between debaucheries, the author managed to meet a woman, marry her, and father a child. This, along with a severe case of occupational angst, forced him to finally wake up and make a choice concerning his life's direction.

I did gain some insights into a lawyer's daily grind during the ten-year journey through The Philadelphia Lawyer's life, as well as inferring the answers to my above questions based upon his example. Between surfing porn and trading goof-off emails with friends, he demonstrates that much of his work time is taken up by legal minutiae. Our hero plows through vast amounts of paperwork, turns every possible waking moment into six minute billing increments, spends some quality time dueling with fellow lawyers in court, and strives to stay one step ahead of micromanaging bosses. But once he leaves the office, it's time to party with his posse. And our boy certainly doesn't hold back in that regard.

Despite a cynical sense of humor and a gift for vivid descriptions that keeps things light, the author's constant detours into graphic episodes of debauchery become wearisome and alienating. How in the world does he get away with constantly showing up to work hung over, not to mention arguing a case while riding high on a narcotic? And his sensual escapades? Well, I've read lighter stuff in Penthouse Forum, so you've been warned. But even in the midst of all this carnality, I ultimately found myself sympathizing with him. He exemplifies the American nightmare of choosing the wrong career right off the bat and then spending years dulling the pain with fleshly and chemical excess until his true calling is revealed.

I try to discover common ground with memoir authors, and I found some similarities with the Philadelphia Lawyer in our love for writing, shared occupational burnout, and a requirement for sit-down privacy in public bathrooms. But I empathized most with his quest for significance and self-expression, which held my attention and kept me reading. By the time his tenth year as a lawyer rolled around, writing had become his main focus. His popular anonymous blog eventually led to a deal for this book - the open-door that he'd been striving for. Once he had a publishing contract and advance check in hand, he resigned from his firm and left law for good. I wish him the best of luck.

Despite an overload of sensuality and substance abuse, "Happy Hour" is a good example of the "I hated my profession and quit when I found my passion" genre. I also recommend "Do Travel Writers Go To Hell," by Thomas Kohnstamm, "Waiter Rant" by The Waiter, and "A Town Like Paris" by Bryce Corbett as further literary examples of guys who loathed their jobs and found fulfillment within the craft of writing.

"Happy Hour is for Amateurs" is written in a style that will not be unfamiliar to those who have read "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas." This book is hardly a knockoff of "F&L", but the voice is similar. Your reaction to this book will likely be similar to your reaction to "F&L."

The author takes us through booze, drug and sex filled escapades during and after law school, as he comes to a realization of the nature of the career he has chosen. I doubt that most of that stuff actually happened - the author would have been dead 10 years ago. But it's a stylized over-the-top rendition of the type of things that go on in law school and in law firms.

I was an associate at a big firm for a while, and while I didn't hate the experience nearly as much as the author did his, there's a reason I'm not in private practice anymore. Among the raunchy hijinks, there are more than a few nuggets of truth about the practice of law.

I'm not sure if this book has wide appeal to general readers, but lawyers will likely find it interesting. "Happy Hour is for Amateurs" also should be required reading for people considering law school; although it's not a completely realistic snapshot of practice, it will give potential lawyers some idea of what they might be in for, and some idea of what questions to ask before they enter the profession.

Oh dear gawd, what a fantastic read this was. I could not have related more to this anonymous writer. Even though he grew up on the East, and I on the West, in infamous Marin County, CA (and save the fact that I am female), we are the same age, and I related to every page of this book. We grew up very similar, and all of his life experiences, the sex, drugs, education- upper-middle class kids out of control, that was all the people I knew! Even listening to the Dead. Some may think this sick, but this was my reality as well. Fantastic read, related to every page, and enjoyed every minute of this book. He is real, humble, hysterically funny, and a terrific writer.

Can't wait for book # 2, wish he wasn't so anonymous (but I *get* it- would likely remain anonymous too), and only wish that he was more prevalent in the media. His analysis of current events is fantastic (on his blog), and I am a fan, for sure.

Summary: This book provides not only laughs but details why choosing any profession strictly for the money will end miserably. Great for people in all walks of life.

Why rate it 5 stars?:

Easy. The steady theme in the book is about that "itch" people get. It is the desire to be somewhere else or doing something else, anything other than continuing your current actions. It's that feeling that you aren't satisfied with life and that there has to be more out there. This feeling doesn't have to strike during a career, but at any point in life. If you've ever mentally screamed that the night needs a different turn or just asked yourself, "Is this it? All this work just for this?", then ideas presented in this book will definitely resonate with you.

In many ways, Happy Hour is for Amateurs is a great journal revealing the beginnings of a midlife crisis and what the man did to avert it. Each time I read it, I'm still able to extract something new out of it.

As far as the writing is concerned, it is sharp and witty. The author certainly does go on tangents but relates them back to the story at hand. I've recommended this to my friends and have passed the book around, even if they aren't future lawyers in the making. If you like humor and escapism, this is right in your wheelhouse.

I hate to piggyback on another review, but Charles B Fehr really nails this book. Those who dislike it seem to be expecting a book about the legal profession, when in fact it's simply about him. He just happens to be stuck in the legal profession, but one could easily swap in investment banking or any other office job and have the same experience. Anyone who has ever worked in an office can identify with the characters that drive him nuts, just as any of us who are creative, independent, and adventurous can identify with his desire to make every moment outside the office count. He mentions a 3-to-1 ratio of hours spent working to hours free on the weekend and the need to make those weekend hours "superhours" - so that they count triple. We should all live like that.

The beauty of this book is that you don't have to approve of his lifestyle decisions - drugs, boozing, promiscuous sex, etc - to enjoy the stories and come to like him (and even identify with him) in the end. He is a strong writer and a superb storyteller and the book is a great read from start to finish. Those of us who are Ten Percenters as he describes in an early chapter will absolutely love the book, but there's enough there for the other ninety percent to enjoy it as well.