posted October 21, 2011

Ohhh, autumn. When the leaves change color and the lake breezes are measured by wind chill, we in Chicago trade in our Cubbie tank tops for our Bears� hoodies. We break out our binoculars, our fluorescent orange vests, and our lawn chairs as we prepare to watch another hunting season as thousands of recent college grads scramble to land a job before their deferred student loans kick in.

Such is the case of the freshly minted lawyer � wide-eyed like the spotted owl, on wobbling legs like the newborn white-tailed deer, and equipped with a wardrobe made up of 2-for-1 deals from a suit emporium. After 2.5 decades of constant nurturing and consumption, they venture out into the world and must finally fend for themselves and contribute something to their environs.

So which ones will drink from the watering hole of the private law firm? Which will settle into the rickety shelter of the public defenders� office? Which will end up foraging for their scraps from the coffeehouse tip jar?