May I Please Be Excused?

          Yes, I got another jury summons.

          But this time it was at the other county courthouse, the one built in 1898, in Auburn.

We all checked in, then filed into the historic courtroom. And here began the TMI portion of the proceedings. The judge asked for people to share hardships if they wanted to be excused.  One by one—in front of everybody—jurors explained their desperate financial plights, their autism, their college class schedule, their divorced ex who won’t help pick up the kids.

“Is there anyone else who can do this for you?” the judge would ask.

One man explained that he had an upcoming surgery scheduled. The fellow next to me whispered, “Is there anyone else who can do this for you?” and we both had to stifle our laughter. 

One woman had several health issues to discuss.  “What if you have hemorrhoids or a communicable disease?” I whispered to my new comrade in comedy. “Do you have to tell everybody you've got this creepy goo that keeps coming out of your ears?" We thought of several other awkward excuses.

Surely there’s a better way to allow folks to explain their hardships than announcing it in front of a hundred people. And most excuses are probably legit. But there are also people who just want to get out of jury duty.

And that made me think about how St. Bob used to host and announce game shows. There, as well, you have a “pool” of contestants. But not one of them is worried about picking up kids, missing class, or having to reschedule a doctor’s appointment. They’re highly motivated to win money, so they find creative ways to make it work. Here he his, hosting and hugging happy contestants on NBC's Let's Make a Deal:

Maybe there should be a drawing among jurors who stay, and prizes awarded.  And I’m not talking about the “Rice-a-Roni, pantyhose, or GasX for bloating” that I heard Bob say so many times. I’m thinking, “You’ve won a BRAND NEW CAR!!” That might liven things up a bit, no?

Okay, it’s not a car, and it’s not free, but my latest book only costs $3.49 and makes a fantabulous gift for adults, kids, your hairdresser, teachers, really anyone on your gift list. Check out A Little Christmas Prayer on Amazon, right here.

Jury Duty Goes Awry

            I want to be a professional juror.  I am convinced my opinions can save America and I want desperately to inject them into the deliberations of people whose wide open minds are a playground for fast-dancing attorneys.  And, also, I think I’m right.  So I want to get in there and try to reason with these so-called “peers” who watch waaay too much TV.

            Let me give you an example.  I was recently summoned to join a throng of hopefuls at my nearby court house.  Most of them, I realize, were hoping to get sent home.  In fact, I sat next to a guy who proceeded to tell me exactly how to do it.  I was torn between lecturing him about his civic duty and clamming up so he’d get the heck out of there and let some solid thinkers in.

            Eventually we were ushered into a courtroom where the attorneys quizzed prospective jurors about which TV cop shows they liked, and no fewer than three women (three!) admitted they watched NCIS because of Michael Weatherly!  Really?  You are old enough to be this guy’s mother, yet you are ogling him like some teenager, and you admit this in a public setting?

            Well, it’s simply appalling.  How can the fate of the accused rest in the hands of such ninnies?  They’re likely to acquit him just because he’s cute!

            You can’t blame the attorneys; they’re just trying to stack the deck in favor of their side, and likely want these very dopes in the jury box.  They want to know which folks watch which shows, and could be overly sympathetic to the arresting officer.  I’m telling you, they need me, to remind them to look at the evidence. Or at the very least, I could inject some humor into these proceedings. 

 

            Finally my name was called to join the lineup of “maybe” jurors.  I was asked what I do.  Easy.  “I’m a writer.”  What do you write?  Uh-oh.  This could be a problem.  I want to keep my answer short and thus harder to denounce.  I took a breath.  “Comedy.”

            The lawyer stared at me.  I stared back and shrugged.  Hey, it is what it is.  At least it isn’t detective novels, right?  They should let me in there.  Comedy means nothing in the world of law, right?  Seriously, what is less funny than the judicial system?  Should be a non-issue. 

            Yes!  I was assigned to take Seat Number Five in the jury box.  I am the very juror you want.  Okay, maybe not the one you want, but definitely the one you need.  And then, the minute I sat down, the other attorney said, “We dismiss Mrs. Hilton.”  What?  You can do that?  You can get a person’s hopes up and then just fire them on the spot?  How rude.

            I sighed, picked up my purse, and stepped down into the center of the courtroom.  “Well, I guess this means I won’t get my two dollars and twenty-five cents,” I snapped.  The whole courtroom, including the judge, burst out laughing and I realized: My work here is actually done.

Oh, you can learn a whole lot more than proper courtroom decorum in this brilliant blog.  Be sure to subscribe by typing your email address into the little box on the right.  MUCH easier than serving on a jury, my friends.