THE BASICS

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At my 27th birthday I was told, "You are retired already. There will be work in your life, but you are retired." About 10 years later I was given the name "Captain Vacation" as a term of scorn from co-workers. I've tried always to live up to those two inspiring moments.

Thursday, June 18, 2015

Jurisprudence - Three Encounters With The Law

I realized there were a few more photos and a couple of tales from my time in Arizona that might be interesting to share.


Venus is a tiny dot between the Moon and the "Praying Monk" in this one from Paradise Valley.

Our Tucson host, the incandescent Brad Holland, told us about his recent encounter with the law..

He and one of his lawyer friends from their time together in law school were sitting on a bench in one of the too many "high-end" outdoor shopping malls in Phoenix chatting about nothing in particular, when two police cars with lights flashing screeched to a halt not far from them. Brad's reaction, "Cool, something's going down. This should be interesting!" His friend's reaction, "Sit still, keep your hands in plain sight." Almost before those words of advice had been given, the police approached them asking for ID.  Did I mention that Brad's friend was black? Brad complied with the request, including his government business card indicating he was a county prosecuting attorney, asked for the officer's ID and then said something to the effect of "Your day just got more complicated."   Please feel free to imagine any number of other scenarios. But, then again, maybe you don't want to.


This looks like an abstract art piece, no?
It's actually a photograph of this guy, who is the red dot above.



This was my reaction when I heard that our beloved Sandy's Provisions in Brooklin was not to be in business this summer.
Without burdening you with the details of who is responsible, I think it is safe to say that shunning is having a moment on the Blue Hill Peninsula.

JUROR # 27


Fulfilling part of my civic contract, I showed up early one Tuesday with about 40 other citizens, 14 of us destined to occupy the jury box in US District Court.  After signing in we were renamed with a number for the duration.  We entered the courtroom in numerical order on our way to specific seats and found the attorneys for both sides, and the accused, standing looking at us. This was to help facilitate answering one of many potentially disqualifying questions. The Judge gave us a short informative/interactive discourse/interview on what it means to be a juror in the form of  describing a potential problem and then putting questions to the entire panel. "Do you know anybody in the courtroom?" An affirmative answer to any of them lead to further questions leading to the inevitable, "Would that affect your ability to render a fair and impartial verdict?"

Other areas of concern 
Able to understand English - the defendant, however, was wearing headphones, presumably translating the proceedings into Spanish.

Know anyone who knows anyone here - when one juror said he had played golf with a friend of the judge, his honor responded, "That must have been very painful for you."  providing a small bit of laughter, which released at least a little bit of the inherent tension in the room.

Able to understand what the law means - emphasis because his honor made a point of saying "If you disagree with the law talk to your congressman."  This case dealt with marijuana.

Work in public safety or are related to someone who works in public safety - there were quite a few people working as corrections officers. Prisons are a growth industry in Arizona.

Have prior history which would make it impossible to make a fair judgement - for this one individuals would approach the bench with attorneys for both sides, a white noise machine was activated for the rest of the courtroom, and details were discussed.

One woman spoke to the whole room. She had no faith in the criminal justice system. Her son was murdered. The police arrested and charged her other son with the crime. It was three years before he was out of jail and exonerated, meanwhile she was spending money she didn't have on a cocaine-addled lawyer.  Her Spanish accent made the story all the more painful.

It was clear to me that this defendant was going to jail. The prosecuting table had two attorneys and a DEA agent who looked to be 6'8" and not at all cordial, as well as a mountain of paperwork and a very large book. The defense table had the accused and his ill-dressed, obese, but certainly bilingual attorney, who nodded off during the process described above.

After the admonishments to not talk about the case, we were told to return at noon at which time the jury would be impaneled.  As we stood up and filed out, I became aware of four people who were sitting behind us, obviously the wife and young adult children of the defendant. Their aura of sadness and desperation was so profound I popped a few silent tears and had to sit and catch my breath in  the hallway before heading out to the beautiful spring day.

I was not selected.






And then there's this hiar-raiser, which involved a friend travelling east about the same time I left Arizona.  I think it's best told in the first person so I'll tell his story as if it happened to me. To paraphrase a line from Dragnet, "some of the names have been changed to protect the guilty."  He was....

..... on my way from Palm Desert to my usual destination for the summer months up at the top of Michigan, the car loaded with personal effects from the apartment I had just vacated. Early one morning a couple of miles into Missouri, I passed a red Dodge Charger Highway Patrol car parked in the median. 



When it pulled out behind me, I remembered the article I had read about how in Arkansas and Missouri, cars with plates from Arizona or California were subject to search for infractions as small as having a tail light out. If the police get lucky and you have drugs - sometimes amounts of pot as small I was carrying -  or even too much cash, they confiscate your car and sell it to bolster the budget. OK, so I was thinking about that, wondering how long I'd be followed when the  Missouri Welcome Center showed up. Perfect.

As I was heading to a parking spot the lights popped on and he pulled up behind me. I lowered all the tinted windows and sat with my hands on the steering wheel, having read somewhere that this kind of behavior helps ease tension for them.  
"Good morning sir. Are you all right, because I noticed you touched the fog line on your way into the rest area" ( That's the white line on the side of the road.  Exactly the kind of infraction I had read about.)
"Oh, sorry. I guess I was thinking about the need to pee more than I should have."
The request for license and registration required that I get out of the car to move a suitcase so I could open the glove box. (Why is it stilled called that?). I then asked if I could go pee, he said, "Not right this minute, come and sit in the car while I write up a warning. This won't take long."
So I sat in the front seat while he called in my info and we "chatted" a bit: "where was I headed?", "I notice your car is quite full" ; "have you ever been arrested?" and other small talk. At a certain point I looked down and noticed that my vaporizer was in the outside breast pocket of the jacket I was wearing.  It was right about then that he said, " Are you OK?... because you sure are breathing hard"

At this point I should confess that he was so adorable that I would have been nervous talking to him in a gay bar. ( Are there still gay bars?) 28 or so,  5'8", wearing one of those intricately woven string bracelets, and with an easy smile adorning a face right out of The Book Of Mormon. But I digress.

 I replied, "No I just get this way."
"You're not transporting weapons....."
I interrupted giving my best version of incredulous amusement with a chuckle accompanying "No."
".....or drugs? Because that would be a good reason to be breathing hard right now."
"No, when I'm at the doctor's office he has to take my blood pressure three times. He's like, 'Relax, this is just a blood pressure test.' " 
True story, don't how I thought to say it.
"Well, just relax. I'm just going to write you a warning. We'll be done in a minute here."
After fifteen seconds that passed like an hour he said, "You can go pee if you want now."
I left the Welcome Center laughing a laugh not quite as maniacal as Jessie's final scene in "Breaking Bad", but it was close.


Here's an interesting moment from my trip east.

Forest's Forester at Forrest City Arkansas, 2015, 250,000 Miles, all mine.

I'll close this post with a picture of one of the weirdest bugs I've ever seen. I rescued it, or one just like it, from the swimming pool a day before this one flew up and landed right where I was standing.  It's about 3 inches long.


I hope you enjoyed the stories. Here comes Summer.
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