The Daddy Daughter Dance

Just when I thought matrimonial law was the most perverted segment of American jurisprudence, I saw the piece on the news about the rich guy in Florida who, through some very clever legal maneuvering, was able to protect his substantial piggy bank from a likely judgment against him in a wrongful death suit.

The nice thing about having lots of money is that you can buy the best legal talent there is, and, for a not so small fee, some genius member of the Bar will come up with a vile plan to relieve you of any responsibility for your actions. And so it was for the forty-eight year old self made kazillionaire (and by self made I mean he turned himself into a kazillionaire by inheriting his father's fortune, all by himself) who ended up adopting his forty-two year old girlfriend as his daughter so the parents of the twenty-three year old he killed while driving drunk would not be able to get their grubby little paws on what would now be "his daughter's" lawful inheritance.

Politics makes strange bedfellows, and the law, I suppose, breeds strange birds. One of the few lessons I remember from law school is the one my torts professor delivered by reading the definition of "small bird" from a statute designed to protect such creatures from hunters. I don't recall the specifics, but, as it turned out, various kinds of tiny dogs fit quite neatly into the highly specific and detailed definition. Strange as it seemed, some flightless puppy was entitled to legal protection under "The Small Birds Act." Odd? Yes. Bothersome? Not particularly. I am solidly behind outlawing the senseless murdering of dogs.

I do, however, struggle with the concept of using laws designed to protect children from the sins of the father to protect dad from his own sins. I watched the news report in disbelief as gag worthy pictures of the murderous tycoon smiling (post-accident) in a hospital bed set up by his magnificent pool were replaced by photos of the beaming cad with his brand new bleached blond offspring. I wonder if she calls him "daddy" as he hovers over her at bedtime, buck naked, motor running. The latest brand of helicopter parent. Ick.

Oh well. It doesn't matter much anyway. No amount of money will buy back the twenty-three year old son of the grieving parents who filed the wrongful death action, and the bleached blond will probably end up taking Richie Rich for a ride. Odds are the money is permanently out of his pocket, one way or another (which is why he just should have hidden the assets, like a normal crook).

I sure hope they don't decide to have a baby. I tremble to think what Florida law has to say about incest.