Brace yourselves, it's a long one. I'll understand if you don't read it all.
One reason for the lack of posts last week was that I had jury duty on Tuesday, and Wednesday. Until last week my experiences with jury service had always consisted of calling in to find out I was not needed or having to sit all day in the jury pool area at the courthouse reading a book and averting advances of exterminators and the like. Seriously, one time a guy I had never spoken to brought me some ice cream while I was outside reading a book waiting for the day to end. Turns out he was a married exterminator looking for a way out of his miserable life. Appealing as that prospect was, I declined the ice cream and moved back inside. I later saw him sucking the melted ice cream out of the cup before tossing it.
So Tuesday morning I showed up at the courthouse, book in hand, ready to relax on one of the benches outside the big jury room where the 250 or so of us prospective jurors would be confined all day. I looked forward to a day of light reading and being able to have lunch with B, who works at the courthouse. At about 11:00 all the jurors were called back into the big room. A case was actually going to trial and they needed a jury panel. I was sitting reading when I was surprised to hear my name called. About 50 names were called and we were told to go up to a courtroom on the second floor where we soon learned we were the lucky prospective jurors for a two-week rape, domestic violence and false imprisonment trial. I was relieved because I knew I'd be dismissed seeing as how I'm a lawyer (no one wants a lawyer on their jury), my brother has domestic violence and false imprisonment charges pending in the same courthouse (set for trial this week), and I know others who have and have personally been a victim of a similar crime. Oh, and I know lots of criminals. That's four giant red flags. Problem was that, even though I knew all of this, I couldn't tell the judge or counsel about it until I was called up into the jury box. So there I sat, all afternoon on Tuesday, listening to the hystrionics of my fellow community members, in awe of their stupidity and lame excuses for being biased.
First they called up 12 potential jurors and began questioning them one at a time. One of the questions had to do with the ability to be fair and unbiased. I was shocked at how many people did not believe they could be impartial to the defendant solely based on the nature of the charges. People claimed they had friends, or relatives, or friends of friends of friends who had third cousins who had been the victims of similar crimes and just couldn't be fair. People seemed to forget that crimes are crimes because no one approves of them and that our justice system is supposed to operate on the premise that you are innocent until proven guilty. You can't hate the defendant just based on the charges and that some people are, on rare occassions, actually innocent.
So I listened to the people cite their biases and prejudices. One lady even personified the victim by stating she 'felt sorry for Karen and sided with her' and 'could tell he was guilty' even though she had admittedly heard no evidence of such and that she 'didn't like him or his lawyer'. I thought, Who the heck is Karen? I am sure we had been told her name but I certainly hadn't remembered it and was disturbed that someone could so quickly identify with a stranger and choose sides.
Next to shock me was another lady we'll call Ms. X. As soon as one of the attorneys addressed her as Ms. X she quickly corrected him noting that she was Doctor X - a psychologist who worked with women and children who were the victims of abuse of all sorts. She went on and on about her self-importance and then stated that she was unsure whether she could be unbiased. Excuse me, but isn't a psychologist supposed to remain unbiased for purposes of treatment? This woman was the poster child for supporting the theory that people who are insane go into psychology. (You know it's true - think of all those psych majors from college) Still, they kept her through to Wednesday when she brought a note to the judge and was subsequently dismissed from service. A note!!! From a psychologist!!! Ridiculous. Her license should be revoked and she should be examined.
And then there were two men who may have required the services of said doctor. The first said he would have no part in putting another human being behind bars because he doesn't judge or punish people. He was adamant, said he would not judge another, and subsequently dismissed. Next was a young guy with Cheetoh stains on his fingers who explained through his sobs that his high school friend had been raped and the subject matter was too painful for him. He was bawling. It was pitiful and I was actually embarassed for him since nothing had happened to him directly and he was more than a few years out of high school.
Hours more excuses, tales of woe, complaints of back pain from sitting too long, whining about the infringement on holiday activities, the fact that rape was not palatable to them (who is it palatable to?), proclivities, maladies, sensitivities, psychoses, and idiosynchrasies that impaired judgment. It all made me feel quite sane in comparison.
By Wednesday afternoon the lawyers and judge had picked through about 25 people and I knew they had few available challenges left (each side gets 10 shots at excluding a juror without reason) when they called me to the jury box. I stated my name, how long I'd lived in the community, my profession, and answered the seven questions they hoped a juror would say no to. I said no to all but three.
The first 'yes' had to do with knowing people involved in the justice system. Of course I know a few lawyers, a judge or two, detectives, interpreters, court reporters, cops. The list was too long to explain but didn't include anyone on this case that I knew of. Strike One - for friends in high places, which is bad for defendant.
The second 'yes' had to do with knowing victims of crimes. I explained that, again, I knew far too many but the two big incidents that may be of concern to the court involved my mother (Pappy tried to kill her when I was 8) and me (assaulted in a parking lot many years ago, with an unfortunate end to things for everyone involved). Strike Two - for victim sympathy.
The third 'yes' was about knowing people arrested and/or convicted. Again, too many to list but the two pertinent ones: Pappy for the incident so many years ago and brother with similar charges pending to date. Strike Three - for friends in low places and defendant sympathy.
The courtroom was silent as I explained things. I was grilled on bias - I honestly do not think I am biased either way. My belief is that life deals you some cards you don't want and you have to play with what you're given: You don't get to put them in your pocket and carry them around forever then start crying about it because someone else might have been dealt the same hand. I explained that I'd be living in a cave somewhere if I did that. Again, the court was silent.
Much to my surprise, neither attorney got rid of me after the questioning. They interrogated a few other jurors, dismissing two. I knew only one side had one challenge left and could not believe anyone would leave me on the jury. It went against all reason. Finally, the defense attorney used his last wild card and dismissed me.
Overall it was an enlightening experience and made me worry for the fate of my brother this week during his trial. Apparantly, he is to be judged by a group of his peers that should first be screened for mental capacity and sanity. Forget about taking youth offenders to prison to see where they'll end up: they should take them to witness jury selection in criminal cases so they can see who will be deciding their fate if they get busted.
Got back from Idaho yesterday. Seems like I was away forever. I guess hanging around sick, old, tired, selfish, and stupid people takes its toll. Add to that two hysterical sisters at odds (mom and aunt), a convicted rapist (uncle) being the only person able to help bathe my grandfather, and a couple of Idaho's finest illegitimates running around making more noise than I knew was humanly possible and you get a pretty crazy environment.
He's a quick learner despite the inbreeding and was quite proud when he got the cork out. I let him keep it as a souvenir of the good life. A boy's first use of a power tool in conjunction with booze is always a special day in the trailer park. 
Once I was sufficiently buzzed, my aunt gave me my Christmas present. It was just what I'd been hoping for, a solar garden fairy: 
I too was suprised to learn that my family knows me so well. My aunt determined that because my cousin (whose illegitimate son is shown with the drill and wine) likes cheap fairy paraphenalia it stands to reason that I would too because, you know, we're all so much alike. I always wondered who bought these things and it does kind of make sense that someone who lives in a trailer park would want to decorate with eco-groovy fairy lights. I still maintain that I was switched at birth.
