Free and Clear!

My jury service is over until the next time my name is drawn from the county hat. I can go and enjoy my vacation in Hilton Head as planned. Thank goodness for our pet/house sitter, Kathy, who has made it easier for me to go on vacations without spending (too much) time worrying about the kitties. She’ll stay at the house while we are away and keep the cats on their schedule, or should I say she’ll keep them on my schedule. She’ll also make the house look alive by being there. And the best benefit of all is that she is a Vet Tech. If anything were to happen, she’ll know what to do.

But back to jury duty. I’ve told most of you the full story but figured I’d put it down in the BLOG for those who haven’t heard it, not to mention for posterity’s sake.

Thursday morning, a week ago, I walked to the DeKalb County Courthouse – a very nice 45 minute trek I might add. I went through security and was told that I was not allowed to have a fork in the building. I said "a what?" The security guard informed me there was a fork in my backpack, right next to my glasses case. Sure enough, it was right where she said it was. I handed it over without arguing. I decided not to pull a Cynthia McKinney though I was tempted.
Cynthia McKinney

I guess someone could be forked to death and I wouldn’t want that on my shoulders. I guess Cynthia’s actions will now make it illegal to take a cell phone past security. She just does us Georgia Democrats proud. But as usual, I digress.

So I get to the jury waiting room and find a seat near the back so that I can people watch while I listen to my iPod. Once the introductions got started, it was clear that at least one guy was trying to get dismissed even before being sent off to a potential trial. One of the Circuit Court Judges came in to speak to us all and tell us what to expect. Right when she started talking, crazy man raised his hand and asked if she had anything he could stick in his ears since she was talking so loudly. He later raised his hand to ask how much we were getting paid for the day and when she responded with "$15.00", he said, "that’s outrageous; we should at least get free beer or something". While I agreed with his statement, I disagreed with the way he was conducting himself. Apparently the lady behind me was annoyed with the guy too. She stood up and said "hey, just shut up and let the judge do her job". Everyone clapped. I think she would have stood up sooner, but she first had to move all of her accessories to the chair next to her . I’m pretty sure she brought with her a laptop, a cell phone, a blackberry, a trio, a walkman, an iPod, a victrola, and a flat screen television set.

Shortly thereafter, a court assistant came out to tell us that a judge was ready for 50 of us. She began calling out names and number 22 was me. We went up to the courtroom and were all handed questionnaires. Here are the things they wanted to know about us:
• Do you think you know more about DNA than the average person?
• Do you believe that DNA evidence is valid and reliable?
• Do you watch law-related television shows like CSI, Law and Order or Nancy Grace?
• If you watch those types of shows, which ones do you watch and how often?
• Do you recall anything about the rape and murder of Joanne Hankamer who was found in Candler Park in 1989? Do you know or recall anything about Larry Walker, the person accused of killing her?

We all completed our questionnaires and were then told that we could go home but that we needed to come back Monday morning at 8:45. The judge and attorneys would need some time to review our answers before they started questioning us – or as they say in the business, "voir dire". We were told not to discuss the case with anyone or research it in any way.

So I stressed all weekend, something you all know I’m really good at. Would I miss my vacation? Would they let me off because of my vacation? What rape and murder case would last less than two weeks? How can I get out of this? Candler Park is just a short two miles from where I lived when I first moved to Atlanta just after this 1989 murder that sounded really familiar. Candler Park is the home of the Flying Biscuit where I’ve been eating for years. It’s also the location of my current yoga studio and, though I’ve moved many times since coming to Atlanta, Candler Park is still just two miles away.

So Monday morning arrives and I again walk the courthouse after making sure I had no forks in my backpack. The 50 of us convened in the courtroom where I heard others talking of my same predicament. Comments could be heard all around the room that included the words "vacation", "spring break", and the phrase "I don’t want to be on a murder trial jury".

We all stood at attention as the Bailiff told us to "all rise". The judge came out and told us to "please be seated". It sounds just like a TV show so far doesn’t it? Then we got the good news. The defense had asked for a three week continuance and the judge was going to grant it. Because he didn’t want us to be on hold for three weeks, we were all being released from jury duty – a new pool of jurors would be selected. There was an audible sigh of relief in the courtroom. Smiles could be seen everywhere. People started filing out of the room and talking with each other as if they had been friends for years. It was a bonding moment for 50 people who didn’t even know each other’s names. I walked back home, stopping at the local Starbucks for my free cup of coffee (every juror gets a free cup of coffee), and there ends the story of potential juror number 22.

Hilton Head, here we come!

By the way, here is some information on the trial – I intend to follow it once it gets started:


Trial

Jury Doo Dee

Tonight, after 5:30pm precisely, I am to call the County Court House to find out if I have jury duty tomorrow. This is the first time that I’ve received a jury duty summons since I moved to Georgia. How I dodged that bullet all these years, I’ll never know. Needless to say, I’m not too excited about it for a few reasons:

We have a vacation coming up that we’ve really been looking forward to. If I were to get stuck on a long trial, I might miss our South Carolina beach-sitting!
Even if I just get on a short trial and have to miss work on Friday, I miss out on Saturday overtime at work. The deal is that you have to work at least 2 hours on Friday in order to work overtime on Saturday. Why would this be a big deal to miss working on a Saturday – it’s time and a half – money to pay for the vacation we’ve been waiting to take!
The last time I did jury duty, I came close to missing a vacation because of the trial I was on – so it really could happen!

Okay, three items ending with exclamation points should give you sufficient information about why I’m not looking forward to the possibility of being selected.

It’s been about 15 years since the first and last time I had jury duty. It was back in Michigan and it was a very interesting, but sad case. The defendant ended up being convicted of involuntary manslaughter after he crossed a center line, hit a car with two passengers and killed one of them. The two passengers were a young couple who had been dating for quite some time. The man was killed and the woman came to court every day to watch the trial.

I learned an awful lot about the police department and the judicial system during this week-long trial. We saw diagrams, pictures of the cars, estimates of the speed of the cars based on impact fragments, etc… As I said it was interesting but sad.

What was even more interesting and sad was the jury. Interesting study of human interaction and group processes but sad in that the group brought all of their own issues into that jury room as we were deciding the fate of someone’s future. I was first on the list of “sad” issues as I told the judge I had a vacation coming up and didn’t think I could focus very well if I thought the trial might go so long as to interfere with that pre-paid time off. I got selected anyway, and later was somehow selected as the foreperson. I guess that was my first attempt at supervision so to speak – trying to make 12 people all happy – impossible!

Another sad story on the jury was the elderly gentleman who did not want the trial to end. He of course, was my nemesis, as I wanted to be done with the whole thing. I’m guessing he needed the $25 per day we received to show up. Just like I need the time and a half this Saturday!

Who Let the Dog Out?

I've been jogging for the past 10 years, give or take. It's actually more like 25 if you count the jogging I did in high school basketball and track. I know, one doesn't usually jog in these sports, but I did. I was always second to last in wind sprints during basketball. Thank goodness for our big, tall center who saved me from being the final team member across the line. Why they let me onto the track team that one year so that I could come in last in the 440, I'll never know. I started out in lane 7, way ahead of everyone because of the staggered start. They were setting up the hurdles for the next event before I finished. I guess that's why they switched me to the long jump for the rest of the season?

My friend Sheila runs, but I definitely jog. Sheila has all the cool running apparel, not to mention a runner's body (you know, the kind you see on the cover of "Runner's World). But my attire clearly pegs me for a jogger. I just have some tennies purchased at the local shoe store, shoe inserts to lessen my plantar fasciitis issues, a jog bra, and some comfortable socks (the short crew kind so that the dolphin tattoo on my left ankle, that I got when I turned 30, shows - yes, I was sober when I got it). The rest is just your regular old sweat pants, t-shirts, and a variety of baseball caps from which to choose. Oh, and just for the record, Doc. B. is a runner too. She can keep up with Sheila.

I jog because it's efficient. It burns a lot of calories in a short amount of time. For the past three years, I've been getting up at 5:00am to get to my gym by the time they open at 5:30. At least a couple of times per week, I jog on the treadmill and listen to my iPod or watch CNN. The other days of the week I get on the elliptical trainer, the stair stepper, the bicycle or just walk on the treadmill. Sometimes I do weights too, but yoga has basically replaced that.

On the weekends though, Doc. B. and I jog through our neighborhood. We both really enjoy this as we can get up a little bit later, sit around and enjoy coffee on the porch, pet the kitty cats, and then head outside for the jog once the sun is warming the Oakhurst sidewalks. This past weekend we were down to the last ten minutes of our jog when a dog came running up behind us. It had a collar on and seemed very happy and playful as it ran past me. Before I knew it, the dog was running back toward me. Just as Doc. B. told me to stop and walk, the dog bit my left thigh. As soon as I stopped jogging, it ran off. I had on those tights-like shorts that come down to just above your knee so I couldn't see where he had bitten me but I didn't see any blood and it didn't hurt too badly. Doc. B. said she'd seen that dog around before and wondered about its aggressive nature. Since it didn't really hurt and the dog was gone, we jogged on home.

I checked my leg at home and the skin was not broken. There was, however, a pretty bruise in the shape of an upper set of dog's teeth. It's been just under a week now and the bruise is almost gone, but it sure was scary for a moment there. We'd report the dog if we knew where to find it or could get to the dog's tags without being mauled. I guess in the meantime, we'll continue our jogs carrying a stick, wielding some pepper spray, or wearing body armor...

Cookie Monsters

Yes, it’s Girl Scout cookie delivery time. As usual, this year I got sucked into buying a few boxes – three to be exact – a pretty low number for me compared to past cookie seasons. Have you noticed how right after the first deliveries are made, there is an excitement in the air. That excitement, however, is promptly followed by disgust because of the amount one has already consumed and it’s only the day after delivery. I’ve heard speak of people who will eat an entire sleeve of thin mints in one sitting. And no one wants to eat the dang things alone – it’s similar to not wanting to drink alone. So, you resort to becoming a cookie pusher within minutes of opening the box. “Oh, just have one” is not a phrase you hear when it comes to Girl Scout cookies. Has anyone really ever eaten just one? You have to at least eat whatever the suggested serving size is (that’s three cookies for the thin mints by the way). What I ended up doing this year was eating a few of the shortbread cookies and a few of the thin mints and then placing the remains on the break room table. I kid you not, I came back no less than 20 minutes later, to grab a diet coke, and every single cookie was gone.

I lied to a Girl Scout on Saturday. Well, it was really more of an exaggeration. Doc B. and I were at the Whole Foods grabbing a few organic food fixin’s to counteract the effect of the cookies I’d eaten during the prior week. As we were leaving, a fully badged Girl Scout and her mother were setting up their table of “extras” in front of the Border’s Bookstore. I’m pretty sure this 12 year old Scout had earned the coveted “top saleswoman” circular-shaped badge and had it meticulously stitched right to the top of her sash. The snappy little saleswoman politely approached me and inquired if I would like to purchase some cookies. I responded loudly enough for the mom to hear: “Oh, thanks for asking but I ate an entire box just yesterday”. It got a laugh from the mother, but I’m not sure it went over so well with the young lady who will probably become the next Meg Whitman, or will at least be driving a pink Cadillac from her Mary Kay sales.

My mom will have to fill in the gaps on this as my memory is not always so good – plus, the more I tell stories over my lifetime, the further I come from the truth. The way I like to remember it is that my mom and I quit Girl Scouts together. We went on this awful camping trip and I think it must have been mutual that we didn’t really want to do it again. If there’s more of a story there, mom, please feel free to expand and/or invoke the embellishment rule for this blog!

Cheers to Girl Scouts and Girl Scout cookie addicts everywhere! For the latter, there must be a twelve step program that begins with admitting you are powerless over those darned cookies – well I am…

Photos courtesy of Girlscouts.org

The Handmaid's Tale

One thing I've been learning as I move "gracefully" into my 40's is that I have not let my own opinions out too often, which means I have not let anger out too often, which means I'm not always sure when I have an opinion or when I'm angry.

But one thing is for sure - I'm OVER the right to lifers. I usually don't think much about abortion, mainly because at this point in my life I'm not in a position to have one. But even when I could have been in that position, I probably wouldn't have chosen to have one. Notice the key words there are "probably" and "chosen". It's a woman's prerogative to change her mind and I'd like to know that I have the choice available to me if I wanted/needed it to be there. Besides, no one gets to choose anything for me unless I let them. Guess I won't be moving to South Dakota any time soon since they've now entered a time machine, to go in reverse.

I was e-mailing with a former co-worker the other day about my angst and some great points got raised as we were preaching to each other's choirs. Why is it that every baby must be born? Are the right to lifers into quantity vs. quality? They must be as they don't seem concerned about quality of life whatsoever. It's almost as if you MUST be born so that then you can become one of the potentially oppressed and potentially discriminated against that keep the cogs in their wheels spinning. It doesn't matter if you will potentially be living in poverty so long as you'll be a another potential supporter of their cause. Perhaps if you are spared being aborted, you will be lucky enough to have medical insurance that will pay for your Viagra prescription but not your birth control pills.

The way I see it, choice includes everyone. If you don't want to have an abortion, that's your own personal choice. Feel free to consult with your family, your spouse, your minister, your doctor or whomever you want - but it's your choice. Each woman can decide for herself to have or not to have an abortion. It's not the choice of our government, it's not the choice of the crazy people blocking entrance to abortion clinics, and it's certainly not the choice of the even crazier people who kill doctors that perform abortions - how on earth does that make sense by the way? If anyone gets that, please let me know.

I think it's time to grab an old copy of Margaret Atwood's "The Handmaid's Tale" and really get fired up? Or perhaps I'll be lazy, since it's my choice to be so if I wish, and add it to the Netflix queue....

City Mouse, Burb Mouse

Doc. B. has been staying in Alpharetta all week. Why? Well, she has a horrendous drive from our house in beautiful Decatur/Oakhurst to the location of her employer (2006 marks her 20th year of employment with the same boss - unheard of these days!). It always takes her at least an hour to get to work in the mornings and sometimes takes her up to two hours to get home - make it three if there is a drop of rain, a fender-bender, a banana peel in the third lane from the left, a Braves game, a Falcons game, a Georgia Tech game, or a Hawks game - oh wait, no one goes to see the Hawks - scratch that last one.

Anyway, my former boss, who lives ten minutes from Doc. B.'s office, is on a cruise ship this week and he left his two kitties in her care. It was his great idea. If I recall, we were sitting poolside at his Alpharetta mansion drinking mojitos and dipping crackers into olive tapenade when he made the suggestion. It went something like: "hey, you could come stay here some time while I'm away and you wouldn't have to drive so far to work!" I'm sure he timed this comment just as the alcohol-soaked mint leaves were entering the parts of our respective brains that without hesitation blurt out "sure!"

Doc. B. will be home tomorrow (just in time to get to her pottery class where, by the way, she is making some very cool stuff for a beginner). We've talked during the week, just like we always do (e-mail and phone), but I'll have to find out this weekend what she really thought of living in the burbs for a week. I just can't imagine leaving our neighborhood to move to a place where "W - The President" stickers are the norm, where the women who go to Home Depot actually need to ask for help, and where the stop lights don't have homeless people waiting to wash your windshield. I prefer the stickers that say things like "F - The President" or "the T in republican stands for morality", or "why do republicans think my baby is their choice?". I prefer smiles from familiar faces when I go to the local ACE Hardware, Lowes or Home Depot. And I prefer giving a quarter to the often creative panhandlers with whom I come in contact. Just yesterday, my friend (and co-worker) and I were eating al fresco in downtown Atlanta on the lunch hour. I agreed to hold the table while my friend went in to place our orders. When she came out, she said "here's your change". Sure enough, there was an urban outdoorsman waiting to help me out with that leftover cash.

I'll let you know what Doc. B. thinks of her week being a burb mouse...

Comments

Just an FYI to go back and take a look at the comments every so often - very funny replies don't always show up right after the posting. For example - check out the "1980 Blog..." comments - very cute response from a "postal worker"! Thanks Laree!

This is for Tom, or "spring has sprung in the ATL"

Tom was "complaining" that Doc B. and I were bragging about the lovely Atlanta weather so I thought I would rub it in a little bit more. Above are photos taken in our backyard this afternoon. Daffodils on the bottom and loripetalum on the top. Gorgeous, eh? That "eh" was for all of my relatives in Michigan!

Oh, and Tom, since this is directed to you specifically, the offer still stands for you to come sit on the porch and drink mint juleps while we cut you some daffodils and/or the tip off of your cigar :)

Also, check out Shawn Mullins' new CD. At http://shawnmullins.com you can listen to snippets of the album before you decide to buy. My personal favorites are "Beautiful Wreck" and Shawn's version of "House of the Rising Sun".