Day 1673

The wheels of justice turn exceedingly slow. I arrived at the courthouse around 8 AM this morning for jury duty. By 9:30 AM, everyone sitting in the central jury pool had been administered the oath and assigned to a court. The rest of the day was spent in a lengthy and often tedious Voir dire process. I'm sure the attorneys eliminated some people as soon as they opened their mouth, but nobody was excused until well after 5 PM. This came as a shock to many prospective jurors who expected to be back at work by lunchtime.

This was a murder trial and the proceedings took forever as lawyers for both sides tried to find jurors who would be sympathetic to their case.  I don't think anyone wanted to be selected for this case. It appeared that a gang member had murdered another gang member and the defendant, who was in the courtroom, looked somewhat menacing. The defense lawyers asked prospective jurors if they could still be fair and impartial if they knew the testimony was coming from someone who had already been convicted of another crime. They asked us if we thought a uniformed police officer automatically has more credibility than someone with gang tattoos. Both sides asked us so many questions about what we thought constituted self defense that a lot of people, including myself, began to worry that this might turn into another Trayvon Martin trial. Nobody wanted to be on that type of jury. I was sitting on the front row during the selection process, so the judge said we would automatically be on the jury unless the prosecution or defense lawyers used one of their ten allotted strikes to eliminate me. As the day progressed, I became worried that I would be seated on the jury, since I really didn't have any good reasons why I couldn't serve. Luckily, one of the lawyers didn't think I would help his case and I was eliminated at the last minute. I was relieved. I wouldn't have wanted to be on this jury.

The dogs were relieved as well when I finally arrived at the vet around 6:30 PM to take them home again. I had to board them for the day, because I knew I'd be away too long to leave them alone. Nobody, including Dot and Dash, though I'd be down at the courthouse this long though. It was a very long day. Both dogs were indignant when I picked them up after their normal dinner time, but all was forgiven when I fed them as soon as we got home,

Since the judge admonished us several times not to say anything to anybody about the case if we were selected as jurors, I began to worry about the blog. What was I going to write about? Sometimes murder trials can go on for a long time. I even told the bailiff that I was a blogger and had posted something every day over five years without missing a single day. I wanted to know the specific ground rules, because as I told him, I had to write something every day. I wasn't going to let a murder trial stop me. If I couldn't write about the trial, could I write about the judge, or the other jurors? Maybe this is what eliminated me. Or maybe they didn't like that I had a hard time believing everyone truly enters the courtroom on an equal basis. Who knows? Maybe they though it was strange that in over a dozen visits to this courthouse, I had never been selected to sit on a jury. I'm still a jury virgin. Whatever the reason, I was glad to be able to go home at the end of the day and return to my normal life. They asked me to answer their questions honestly and I did. I'm glad they didn't ask if I thought the defendant was guilty, because he sure looked guilty to me.

Lizzy is today's Dalmatian of the Day

Watch of the Day

Day 1306

I'm a little apprehensive about flying into the San Francisco airport these days. I'm even more apprehensive about being selected for jury duty. I'd hate to be selected as a juror in a high profile trial. These things have turned into gladiator events with the media whipping the proponents for both sides into a frenzy. In today's increasingly polarized society, it wouldn't matter whether you reached a verdict of guilty or innocent. Whatever you decided, half of the country would hate you. The courts don't make much of an effort to protect their juries either. Once the trial is over, everybody knows who you are.

I probably don't have much to worry about though. Although I have sat reading magazines in the jury pool room more times than I can remember, I've never been selected for a jury panel. Usually, as soon as I declare my occupation as "writer," I am dismissed. Twice, I made it as far as the Voir dire process, but the lawyers on both sides didn't like the way I answered their questions. I'm not exactly sure what most lawyers are looking for in a jury, but I'm definitely not it.

Even more worrisome than being selected for a jury is the thought of being tried by one. It's a sobering experience to walk into a Walmart and realize that the motley crew of shoppers inside might someday constitute a jury of your peers. This frightening thought has been more than enough to keep me on the straight and narrow.

The dogs hogged so much of the bed last night that I found it difficult to sleep. I had so little room that I might as well have been sleeping on a 2x4 plank. When Dot and Dash were younger, they would curl up in tight little balls when they slept. Now they stretch their legs out as far as they can. It doesn't leave much room for the people. I probably didn't need a lot of sleep last night though. I certainly didn't do much today. It was way too hot. I made juice out of the remaining supply of tangerines. I put clean sheets on the bed. I went to the store and got another month's supply of trash bags and paper towels. The dogs got a short walk too. When the temperature is 102, you try to keep everything you do outside on the short side.

Watson is today's Dalmatian of the Day

Watch of the Day

Day 1135

When the dogs and I returned from our walk this morning, there was a process server waiting for us on the front porch. I was served with a subpoena. WTF? Why would anyone sue me? I am one of the most unlikely people on the planet to get involved with a lawsuit. I don't do much of anything and I rarely even see people. When I read through the legal documents I had been served with, I discovered that I wasn't being sued after all. Instead, I was being asked to give a deposition. It was one of my clients who was being sued and they apparently decided to drag me along for the ride. According to Janet, this probably wasn't a wise decision. She doesn't think I should even be allowed in a courtroom. "You talk too much," she tells me. When I told her about the deposition, she admonished me to just answer the lawyer's questions. "Don't try to regale the court with all your weird long-winded theories," she said. "It won't end well."

I saw some kids painting on the trunk of a dead tree the other day, so this morning I walked over to the tree to get a closer look at their handiwork. It actually looked kind of cool. Especially when framed as a square Instagram photo. This chunk of tree art reminded me of my friend Chuck in Seattle. He used to tell me that anything was art if you put it in a nice frame. To prove his point, he gathered up a bunch of trash he found on the street, flattened it out, and had the debris professionally framed. The resulting "pictures" eventually wound up in a gallery show and ended up getting good reviews.

Erykah Badu drove by in her big black Porsche Panamera while the dogs and I were walking past her house this morning. Sometimes I'd like to be a celebrity driving a big black Porsche. It probably isn't all it's cracked up to be though. I'm probably better off just walking dogs and taking pictures of painted tree trunks. I remember meeting Richard Petty once back in the days when I was doing Pepsi commercials. He was a real nice guy and insisted on eating Kentucky Fried Chicken out of a big bucket with me and the film crew at lunch instead of going off with the clients to a fancy restaurant. The guy seemed so tired though. You had to yell in his ear because he was stone deaf from years of racing. Whenever there was a break in the filming, his business manager put him to work signing autographed posters. All day long he signed these things wearing a special glove so he wouldn't get carpal tunnel. What kind of a life is that? I bet celebrities get sued a lot too.

I've got to go see the doctors at the liver institute tomorrow. I'm not looking forward to that at all.

Chloe is today's Dalmatian of the Day

Watch of the Day