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have been an arduous undertaking. Accordingly, Kathy started com- muting to New York City by car.
My story—which, you will not be surprised to hear, I will cover in much greater detail (this is, after all, my book)—is not quite as stable and linear as Kathy’s was. It involves, effectively, seven different work situations (or, for you sticklers, five different work situations and two non-work situations), all while we were in Scarsdale. I will mention them in one breath here—Coronet, my desk, the Resolution Trust Cor- poration, Sutherland Asbill & Brennan, Squire Sanders & Dempsey, my desk again, and, of all things, Rosenman & Colin—but I will save the RTC and the succeeding (certainly no pun intended) three law firms for later (Chapters Twenty-Nine and Thirty, respectively). I will also put aside for now the approximately fifteen years (1996–2010, inclusive) during which I taught Real Estate Finance and other courses at Brook- lyn Law School (see Chapter Thirty-Two).
For now, the only meaningful focus is my desk, which occupied me for about fifteen months, starting in January 1991. I choose to focus on that period only because it forms a natural segue into Chapter Twenty- Nine, which will, in turn, focus on the best professional experience that I was fortunate enough to have.
Return with us then to those days of yesteryear when we were mov- ing into 16 Church Lane South and Allen Rothman called me with the message that “It’s all over.” You can glean from Chapter Twenty-Seven, which covered my time at Coronet, that Allen was right but that it took me another six months before I parted ways with Dansker, Warshaw, and company. Those six months were, to say the least, difficult. We had just moved into a new expensive world, and it was clear to me during that period that our ability to support our lifestyle was likely to be negatively affected in a material fashion, to put it mildly.
That is not to say, however, that the effect on our budget would be the primary concern. Even without the Coronet income, we would be all right. The larger questions were “How would I be?” and “What would I do with myself ?” The Friday evening when I came home for dinner, knowing that I was not going back to Coronet—an evening when, with
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