After Neil Armstrong, the first man to walk on the moon, died, his grandchildren filed a lawsuit. Traditionally, Armstrong’s siblings would get a larger inheritance. After all, “They loved him the longest, depended on him the most,” and found his loss “most painful,” the lawsuit acknowledged.
And yet, in an unusual but nonetheless cogent twist, the “opposite is equally true,” the lawsuit argued. “The minor grandchildren, having had the least time with Decedent, have suffered the greatest loss of time, attention, protection, advice, guidance, counsel, and affection.”
The grandchildren, the lawsuit explained, “lost their universally beloved and revered grandfather, who could magically open any door, [who could] innocently pave ways into college admissions, and who would have always carried a de facto hero element to any school or athletic or workplace function.”
Frown upon the audacity of this assertion all you want. The logic is airtight.
