Month: October 2022

“Clio is a Vibe” – The 2022 ClioCon From the Eyes of a Regular Lawyer

I had a blast at the 2022 Clio Cloud Conference in Nashville.

A legal conference where, at the end, you were sad that it didn’t last longer. Have you ever heard that?

You’ve probably never been to ClioCon then.

The simplicity of that arrow is misleading.
This event was at Opryland Hotel. Everybody was lost, all the time.

Clio is a cloud-based legal practice management platform. With more than a decade of constant feature updates and welcoming third-party app integrations, Clio is designed to be a “one-stop-solution” for running a law firm. Billing. Document management and automation. Intake and client relationship management. Calendaring.

Basically, for everything a lawyer does during the day, Clio’s goal is to make it easier and more efficient. If they don’t offer a solution, let them know, and they’ll create one. One legal tech commentator called their culture “a cult of innovation.”

You probably think this is a paid post. (I mean, who shows this sort of rabid exuberance for legal practice management solutions?)

There are lots of law practice management tools out there, but none have the branding or message that these guys do (or care to have it). Clio casts itself and its users as rebels and disruptors. Clio knows its core audience, and ClioCon is a concert where they play the hits.

I’m telling you, Clio is a vibe.

In his closing address, Clio CEO Jack Newton said attendees were part of a “tribe.” “We are part of a big community here with a common goal of transforming the legal experience for all,” he said.

Legal tech writer Bob Ambrogi wrote this about the 2022 event: “It is no exaggeration to say that this is a conference in which it feels as if every single person is there because they are deeply committed to improving the practice of law and the delivery of legal services through the better use of technology and the innovation of their practices.”

Clio and their some 200 employees were there, at every turn, offering impromptu training sessions, directions (ugh, Opryland Hotel), and friendly smiles.

It was like hanging out with 200 people who really wanted you to be better at your law job, but also were your new best friends, and, occasionally, a life coach.

Part instructional, part sales-pitch, part motivational/self-help pep talk, it was hard not to leave ClioCon fired up about being a better lawyer.

(I actually signed up with FOUR new technology service vendors after leaving.)

The theme this year was, essentially, the world political and economic landscape is a mess, only getting worse, and we (and our clients) are in for some tough times in 2023. What can we, as lawyers, do to prepare and to provide better service to our clients?

It’s different than a typical legal conference because of the diversity of attendees. People come from all over. Most are lawyers, but some are administrative staff and other legal professionals. Many attendees are neither, but work on innovations in legal technology and processes.

Nevertheless, across the board, the common theme was that we (the Clio staff, the attendees, all of us in the room) are collectively collaborating on something different, rebellious, innovative…and all with the goal to provide awesome service to clients.

Every conversation I had–walking all over that awful hotel; waiting for sessions to start; meals–the topic was “how does your firm [insert some technical/practical law practice task].” “What works/What doesn’t.” People were there for one reason: To be better lawyers.

Who can’t help but get fired up about that?

I’ve attended 3 ClioCons now (the first two were remote, due to the pandemic).

My first year, it felt like we all were in on a big secret. In the early COVID world, it felt scandalous to openly talk about things like virtual law firms, document and client communication automation, and fully cloud-based systems. This was a crowd that held zero regard for “The Way Things Have Always Been Done.”

It felt awesome and liberating to not have a Managing Partner hiding around the corner, waiting to tell you that “we’ll form a committee to consider your idea and tell you ‘No’ in 6 months.”

In the past few years, the rest of the industry has come a long way, but they’re still far behind the types of things that are being discussed as a matter-of-fact at ClioCon.

What I’m saying is this: Find your tribe. If you care about things like disrupting the status quo in the legal industry and ways to be a better (and happier) lawyer, come to 2023 ClioCon in Nashville (yes, again) on October 9-10.

You can register here. I’ve already signed up for it.

My only compliant: No karaoke. Clio, if you’re reading this, call me. I can fix this.

Small Law Firm Life: The Best, The Worst, and All at the Same Time

Three Sundays ago, I got locked out of my laptop.

Neither Dell, Microsoft Support, or frantic prayers could save the day. My working laptop was somehow connected to an expired domain (my expired firm), and it was locked shut. (“A very expensive door-stop,” the nice lady at Dell Support in Texas unambiguously explained.)

After spending 5-6 desperate hours on the phone on a gorgeous early-fall day, I had cobbled together the diagnosis: This is exactly what the system is supposed to do in a situation like this; and The remedy was to wipe the computer and start fresh.

This was bad news.

If you’ve ever sat next to me at an event or at a cocktail hour, you know I like to talk in colloquialisms. For me, it’s a way to survive small talk, but also a way to be authentic and also contextually appropriate (i.e. to make a joke).

Maybe the best response from me would be a simple “I’m fine, how are you?” But, sometimes, why not be honest and funny (especially if you are one of the rare Nashville attorneys who has won a city-wide award for their sense of humor)?

If done well, the response is short, funny, but also brutally (and subtly) honest.

While doing the rounds on the 2021 lawyer holiday party circuit, lots of people asked if I liked my small law practice. My response was generally the same: “It’s the best job on earth, and it’s also the worst job on earth. But never in the middle. Sometimes, I miss the middle.”

It was quick, easy, and honest. For more than a decade, at somebody else’s firm, I spent a lot of years in the middle. I billed my hours and won my cases, but I didn’t have any say in the big (or the day-to-day) firm issues. It was frustrating and unfulfilling, but also comfortable and familiar and easy.

Plus, on any day when my computer didn’t work, I had somebody to call who spent their Sunday figuring it out.

In fact, that’s something I told the Tennessee Bar Association’s Sidebar Podcast last year: “My job used to be to show up, do awesome legal work, and write down my time. Now, my job is to do all that, and also take out the garbage.”

Back to the laptop. In the end, let’s be clear: It all got sorted out.

My legal tech “committee of one” had made the right choices about Clio (a cloud based practice management system), NetDocuments (cloud based documents), and a redundant Microsoft OneDrive backup. Plus, I have a backup computer (“Dynamite”) that is fully functional and has been promoted to first chair.

Other than the hassle, wasted time, and the year of my life that the stress cost me, all ended fine.

Last year, after using my “best job, worst job” line at a holiday party, I got a text the next day, from a managing partner at a local Big Law Firm who I had talked to. Maybe I wanted to interview with them and cut out all the hassle of running my own thing, he asked.

All he had heard was the “worst” part, I guess. It was awkward and awful responding (and I made sure to avoid him at the next holiday party), but I had to be honest: “Hey, thanks and I may take you up on that someday, but I’ve had a long stretch where it’s been the ‘best job’ and I’m going to ride this for a while.”

There’s not really a point here, other than to say that you should be sure to back up your documents in multiple places. And, also, that life is too short to live in the middle. And, finally, not to be too braggy, but small law firm life really is the best.

Lender Groups ask Tennessee Supreme Court to weigh in on conflicting authority on wrongful foreclosures

In July, I wrote about a July 2022 Court of Appeals opinion holding that even a defective foreclosure sale conveys valid title to real property. That’s because Tenn. Code Ann. §§ 35-5-106 and 35-5-107 expressly say that title is not impacted by a defective sale and, instead, the foreclosing trustee is liable for monetary damages.

Within a few minutes, a local banker commented on the post and asked: Yeah, but did you see this one from last month?

He was talking about Terry Case v. Wilmington Tr., N.A. as Tr. for Tr. MFRA 2014-2, No. E202100378COAR3CV, 2022 WL 2313548 (Tenn. Ct. App. June 28, 2022)– issued less than a month earlier–which held (sort of) exactly the opposite: “[A] trustee’s mere failure to comply with the terms of a deed of trust will render the foreclosure sale invalid.” Id. at *8.

How does the law reconcile these drastically different outcomes, based on the same wrongful foreclosure allegations?

Tennessee is a non-judicial foreclosure state, but don’t be lulled into a sense that foreclosures are simple (i.e. just “paperwork”). Instead, a foreclosing lender must simultaneously adhere to two separate processes, one of which is found in Tennessee statutes and the other in the underlying deed of trust.

Sometimes, they match; sometimes, they don’t.

If the lender doesn’t comply with any of the requirements of both tracks in full, though, this developing caselaw imposes drastically different remedies for non-compliance. Fail to satisfy the statutes? No big deal. Fail to satisfy the deed of trust? Here’s a nuclear bomb to your title.

Needless to say, this is confusing to creditors, borrowers, and buyers at foreclosure sales.

The plaintiff in the June 2022 case has filed an Application for Permission to Appeal to the Supreme Court (a full copy is attached below), seeking clarification on the splintered issues of law surrounding wrongful foreclosure claims. The Application opens with a direct message: “Tennessee wrongful foreclosure law is in a state of disarray.”

On behalf of the Tennessee Bankers Association and the Tennessee Mortgage Bankers Association, my office filed an Amicus Brief in support of the request to have the Supreme Court step in (also below).

This is a big deal. If this caselaw stands, title to foreclosed real properties will remain clouded until the wrongful foreclosure claims expire (6 years from the sale date). And, sure, a title company can vet the sale process, but title companies don’t like any risk, no matter how small.

This will render post-foreclosure title completely uninsurable. This isn’t good for anybody. Borrowers, lenders, buyers–everybody loses here.

application-for-permission-to-appeal-4878-4945-6182-v.1Download
filed-amicus-brief-in-wilmington-v-case-4884-8705-5926-v.1Download