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On the fence
Aug. 9th, 2010 09:54 amThursday morning I was called for jury duty. It is our civic obligation, after all.
Although I've been called to appear for jury duty quite a few times, except for a four-month stint serving on a grand jury, I've never been selected for the real thing. Never been allowed the opportunity to render verdicts, throw the book at someone, that sort of thing. Apparently, the gods that be had not deemed me worthy.
That all changed on Thursday. Even though it was supposedly a light day on the docket. Even though I got lost in Fall River and showed up half an hour late. Even though all I really wanted to do was sit there for a few hours and read 'A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court.'
Despite all that, I was somehow selected as juror number three. Which meant that I was one of the first ones called up for the only case ready to be heard that day. And somehow, through all the musical chairs that take place during jury selection, I managed to stay put.
Personally, I think it was because I was wearing a suit. I hadn't put it on as a show of respect for the court system, however. I had a dinner to go to that night, and figured there was a good chance I might be going there straight from court. So, while everyone else was wearing jeans or shorts, I was looking like one of the attorneys.
So, there I am, finally having my day in court. And on such a momentous occasion, do I get to render a verdict on the infamous Lindbergh kidnapping? Something comparable to the O.J. Simpson verdict? Maybe a simple little case of armed robbery? No, no. What do I get to weigh in on?
( Read more... )
Although I've been called to appear for jury duty quite a few times, except for a four-month stint serving on a grand jury, I've never been selected for the real thing. Never been allowed the opportunity to render verdicts, throw the book at someone, that sort of thing. Apparently, the gods that be had not deemed me worthy.
That all changed on Thursday. Even though it was supposedly a light day on the docket. Even though I got lost in Fall River and showed up half an hour late. Even though all I really wanted to do was sit there for a few hours and read 'A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court.'
Despite all that, I was somehow selected as juror number three. Which meant that I was one of the first ones called up for the only case ready to be heard that day. And somehow, through all the musical chairs that take place during jury selection, I managed to stay put.
Personally, I think it was because I was wearing a suit. I hadn't put it on as a show of respect for the court system, however. I had a dinner to go to that night, and figured there was a good chance I might be going there straight from court. So, while everyone else was wearing jeans or shorts, I was looking like one of the attorneys.
So, there I am, finally having my day in court. And on such a momentous occasion, do I get to render a verdict on the infamous Lindbergh kidnapping? Something comparable to the O.J. Simpson verdict? Maybe a simple little case of armed robbery? No, no. What do I get to weigh in on?
( Read more... )
