Edan just had a birthday. This, of course, made me think about when she was first born. It was a wonderful time, for lots of reasons, and she was, of course, amazing. But, on the whole, it was a rough patch.

Her mother and I had already broken up. We tried to get along, but new babies are stressful. I didn't have a job, didn't know where I was going to get one, and spent my days waiting for the 2 hours every afternoon I was allowed to spend with my baby girl -- in the event she wasn't asleep, or eating (which, let's be honest, was always).

I was scared. I didn't know how to be a father, I was living someplace completely foreign to me, and I was 1,000 miles away from my family. I knew I had a responsibility to be in my daughter's life, but felt like everyone and everything was telling me to leave.

So I hired a lawyer.

I know, for a fact, that there are some very good people involved in family law, but this guy was a jack ass. In fact, let's call him Jack, as using his real name is likely to get me sued.

Jack was recommended through a friend of a friend of a relative, who knew somebody who'd gone through a divorce in Texas. I figured that was better than pulling someone's name out of a phone book (though I eventually tried that, too), plus, he was really expensive and was accredited by a number of important-sounding organizations.

Everything I knew about lawyers up to that point was learned from TV and movies. Because I always heard characters on Law & Order say "You'll be hearing from my lawyer," I assumed that everyone had a lawyer in reserve, and that having one was part of being a grown-up -- like buying a house or owning a large dog. So, I thought, Jack would be my go-to guy for legal questions. He'd be the man in my corner -- ready for action when I needed to bring the heat.

This is what I thought about during the long drive to his office in San Antonio. I picked a big city lawyer because -- based on my experiences up to that point -- I figured everyone in small town Texas believe that unmarried fathers were loathsome (but mostly fictitious) creatures whose only saving grace was that maybe they sent child support (but it was never enough, the bastards). I was surprised that Jack didn't work out of a downtown skyscraper like the cast of Ally McBeal, or at least in a bustling, well-staffed office like the guy in Erin Brockovitich. Instead Jack rented space in a non-descript corporate park near a upper-middle-class housing development and an absurdly large Home Depot.

Jack was portly, in his mid-40s, and an aggressive conversationalist, who spoke with a deceptively soothing Texas drawl. I was 21, had been living with English artists for the past 3 years and was thus a more sensitive communicator. This meant I got pushed around -- a lot -- and I was a sick of it. I wanted someone who wouldn't take any sh**, so, when Jack interrupted our meeting to have a phone conversation, in which he joking described receiving yet another death threat from someone else's client, I knew this was the man I wanted to hire.

But I was wrong. Not because my legal situation ended in tragedy -- I see my daughter most afternoons and every weekend, and have the standard rights given to non-custodial parents -- but because Jack took me for a ride. (An expensive ride.) He was older, more experienced, and saw right through me. He could tell I was scared, and wanted an ass-kicker, but realized that -- outside of changing the culture of family law in South Texas -- there was little to be done. But, nevertheless, Jack charged me for his services, filed a few pointless motions, and I had my day in court. After showing up late, he then negotiated a poorly-worded agreement between Edan's mother and I for the first year of her life that was so vague it left us right where we started.

I don't blame him. I was paying Jack to make me feel like I had more control, and that's what he gave me. And I know he's just trying to make a living -- even if it's at other people's expense. But, where as I never understood why there was an entire genre of jokes dedicated to crucifying lawyers, after meeting Jack, I get it.