I’m worried my wife’s divorce lawyer found some flirtatious text messages I sent a coworker. Can those texts hurt me in court?
A lot depends on the lewdness of your prose. “If it was just compliments like ‘Gosh, you look great today, I really like the way you did your hair,’ it won’t get her lawyers very far,” says Gary Nickelson, president of the American Academy of Matrimonial Lawyers. If you borrowed sentiments from Barely Legal VI: Caught From Behind, then you could be in for a legal bruising.
The good news is that raunchy texts alone are not considered proof of adultery. But bawdy missives can come back to haunt you, even if your split is no-fault. “In most states, the conduct of the parties during marriage is determinative of property division in a divorce,” says Gabriel Cheong, a Boston divorce lawyer. Usually, this applies to finances and property, but the judge could take salacious texts into account when deciding who gets what.
That may seem unfair, because the flirting violated only the spirit of your marital accord, not the letter. And, granted, emotional cheating isn’t nearly as transgressive as the physical sort. But it’s still cheating all the same—you fostered a sense of intimacy with another woman, knowing that your wife would be aghast if she ever found out.
This won’t be the last time you fantasize about a coworker; crushes are unavoidable in office life. But should you don a wedding band again, try not to act on them, even via thumb-typing.
My brother has decided not to enroll his young, visually impaired son in classes to learn Braille, claiming the system is archaic. This seems irresponsible. Should I say something?
Certainly, but please do so in the most congenial manner possible. No one likes being told how to raise their kid, even by a trusted family member. The trick will be to acknowledge the legitimacy of your brother’s viewpoint while also making a strong case for Braille’s utility.
Your brother is correct that Braille is on the wane, partly due to the proliferation of text-to-speech tools and other assistive technologies. The National Federation of the Blind estimates that less than 10 percent of legally blind Americans use the reading system, compared with 50 percent a half century ago. So your brother likely figures that his son will do just fine as part of the majority.
But that majority isn’t doing as well as it could. Seventy percent of blind American adults are unemployed, and 50 percent of blind high-school students drop out. In such an environment, shouldn’t your nephew have every available cognitive tool at his disposal?
You can also point out that technology can’t be relied upon in every situation. “When someone gets up to give a speech, they need to have notes in front of them,” says Mark Riccobono, an NFB executive. Or what if your nephew someday intends to travel? He’ll need to read signs. Braille literacy could be a lifesaver should his hardware fail.
My college English class is reading Paradise Lost. To save cash, I printed out a free copy from Google Book Search. My professor still wants me to buy a bound copy. Should I go ahead and fork over the $20?
Remember that college brochure that inevitably boasted about the institution’s amazing student-faculty relationships? Well, now’s the time to put that claim to the test.
Approach the professor and politely inquire about the specific reason for his objection. His beef could be legitimate—the bound copy may include some critical analysis, for example. On the other hand, it’s possible that he’s just not accustomed to the Web’s cornucopia of free literature; the ivory tower certainly has its share of Luddites.
If the professor can’t offer up an explanation more convincing than, “This is the way I’ve always done it,” stand your ground. Explain that you’re willing to accept the consequences of your choice, such as dealing with the free version’s differing page numbers, and gently remind the prof about the financial hardships of undergrad life. Twenty bucks may not mean much to a high- falutin’ Milton scholar, but it’s enough for a month’s worth of instant ramen.
Need help navigating life in the 21st century? Email mrknowitall@wired.com.
