Jury Duty (Part 1)

Duty Calls, a Patriot Answers

Oh, the call to civic duty has been loud of late, My Countrymen. In my case, resoundingly so.

My summons for jury duty fell upon this Monday; eight days shy of my most important act of patriotism on November 4^th. I’m beginning to feel like a regular Patrick Henry. You know, without all the horrible Christian baggage.

Getting from my home to the jury room was the worst of it (how about some signs people!) as a security guard pointed me to the wrong building. Once there however, things ran rather smoothly. Quite surprising, being familiar with the limitations of the local government as I am.

My only previous experience with jury selection was in Tallahassee (about one quarter the size of the current city in which I reside) where I was dismissed in about five hours due to some clever finagling and hint-dropping on my part to one of the attorneys.

Sweet Jesus, how small-time that was.

Today, I walked into a miasma of approximately three hundred people in an auditorium sized waiting room where there was actual bustling. Bustling! In a waiting room.

And believe you me, the only apparent qualification to serving is that you must not be “easy on the eyes”.

This was the notable consistency amongst the myriad throng. The beautiful are not summoned for jury duty. Most people here, if not downright ugly, were barely presentable.

I say this with great humility as I, of course, was there too.

The intelligence was a little harder to gauge. Suffice to say, if what I saw passing for reading material was any indication, I do not wish to be judged in a court of law anytime soon. Can you imagine a mind that adores Janet Evanovich holding sway over your fate?

Everyone was very polite and amicable though. The camaraderie of sharing the same drudgery I imagine. There were “Pardon me” and “Thank you” and all other sorts of pleasantries everywhere you turned. And I guess that’s what surprised and pleased me most about the whole experience.

Write it off to civic mindedness, a day off from work or general interest in the process (that was my catch) but people were behaving rationally, courteously and kindly to one another. Put these same people in an airport terminal with the same degree of inconveniences thrown at them and it would be a savage bloodbath.

Maybe the calming effect of a looming Obama Presidency is already calling our better angels to the fore. Or maybe it was the promise of $10/day with a 5¢/mile reimbursement for travel.

For those who have not gone through it, I’ll briefly list the regimen.

Staff members go over the rules that allow someone to serve (citizenship, residency, English language requirement, criminal background, etc.).

Security advisors list forbidden items (guns, knives, etc.).

You raise your hand and make a group pledge to uphold various responsibilities (“God” was mentioned at the end. That really pisses me off).

You check your name off the roster, grab your “juror” pin and obtain your parking stubs.

You then sit for hours contemplating your own existence and wait for your name to be called.

Let me rephrase that. If you were in the room I was, you sit for hours trying to read while a television blares and those around you pontificate on current events.

In my case, the TV was on CNN and the shrill, Midwestern caterwauling of Sarah Palin was leading various right wing chants at a rally in Virginia. I believe her voice (and politics) could induce epileptic fits in anyone whose IQ is in the triple digits.

And apparently, the final week of the Republican campaign will now be reduced to labeling everyone “So and So THE So and So”; Joe the Plumber, Tito the Builder, Cindy the Citizen, Barak the Socialist, John the Cranky Septuagenarian and Sarah the Dumb Fucking Jesus Freak.

No one commented on the politics however. This is Alabama now (the cultural gulag in which I currently find myself), where any Republican resident can rest assured about 78% of the time that they are speaking amongst like-minded people. People, that is, who are very, very ignorant and very, very racist.

But yet, they remained mute. I was proud of them. Frankly, I also believe that Republicans are so embarrassed by their current ticket that they are unwilling to be as boldly obnoxious as they have been during past elections. There is an underlying sense of doom about them, a stench of defeat, perhaps an unspeakable hint of indecision. Maybe (gasp!) they have been wrong on a few issues. The lack of McCain/Palin lawn signs in my neighborhood speaks volumes to that. You couldn’t walk ten feet without tripping over a Bush/Cheney sign here in 2004, or being beaten with one if you spoke dissent.

My fellow potential jurors did not remain mute however when it came to sordid news items. A young boy at a gun show shooting himself with an Uzi, a dead Chicago boy found in an SUV, the beating death of a reporter in Arkansas, and the killings of members of Jennifer Hudson’s family were all fodder for the boisterous opinion monsters to start in with all sorts of social remedies regarding gun control, the execution of pedophiles and proper parenting techniques. There’s the Alabamans I know and love.

And then there was Nancy Grace to inject her feed tube into those fears and concerns.

Several hours later (no exaggeration) my name was called along with 41 others to gather along the wall of the room and count off. We then marched down a long hallway, lined up alphabetically by last name and counted off once again to make sure we hadn’t lost anybody. We then took elevators up four floors, realigned and counted off once more. It does get tedious after sitting for four plus hours but the movement and simple task accomplishments were almost welcomed.

We then proceeded to the courtroom.

Tomorrow:

Will C. Adolph be chosen to render judgment? Stay tuned.