catch a jury summons dodger by the toe, if she hollers, make her pay, $50  on this day.

I dragged my fat tush out of my warm bed early today, having no intention of being late for the District Court time set for the Order to Show Cause.  A little bit of website work, a shower, and out into the whipping, howling wind I went.  It was cold.  The Steed barked to life and I sat for a moment as I contemplated the folly of my ways.  The real folly was that I ever accepted/signed the registered letter that came by post.  It won’t happen again.

The second folly was that I filled out the form enclosed with the summons and returned it, asking to be permanently excused from jury duty due to being self employed – I didn’t even mention that I’m fading the blues of just being me, or that I’ve been in for numerous medical tests and recent changes of BP and cholesterol meds have left me feeling less than chipper as of late – but having filled out and mailed the form, I remembered on the 20th that I had to appear, and I remembered again around the 28th, which was four days too late.  Kee-rist!

I made the Nye County Court House on Basin Road in Pahrump about a half hour before the appointed time – 9 a.m.

Of course there’s a check point/metal detector in the main entry.  That always kinda freaks me out.  I can see some lunatic raging through the doors, shooting anything that gets in the way as he heads for a judge or lawyer he wants to put daylight into.  And believe me, the guard at the check point wouldn’t even slow an offender down, let alone stop him.  I’m just a little walking suspicious bag of paranoia with a great imagination some days.

I went to the courtroom and took a seat in the front row, fully expecting to be called Greenen when they did get around to calling me.

Probate was heard first – there were two cases – then we had a short recess because the prisoners were going to be heard next.  The Judge did have a sense of humor and was very much in charge of his court and on the ball with the proceedings.  I chuckled more than once over his comments and the way he surveyed the court and the people under his jurisdiction.  Lawyers began filtering in, people started arriving and filling the rows, and I sat alone in the first row – it was shared by three others that were there for Probate but once their case was heard, I had the bench to myself.

The business of law.  I admit that I find it to be stifling, dark, depressing, and horrifically painful to watch.  I do not know the answer to justifying one’s release or locking up another or sending one off to await an executioner’s call.  I do understand the need for law and order otherwise we’d better all buy a gun and learn how to shoot faster and straighter than the next guy.  I do not understand the need to protect a criminal yet I do not want to be the person that judges anyone or provides right by law for one to escape punishment or to mete out punishment.  It’s a complexity to me.  We have become so convoluted, with so many laws, that we require little laws growing like body hair hanging from each law.

The whole experience was depressing.  At times there were 11 or more lawyers sitting in the jury box waiting for their client to be called before the Judge, sometimes a few them chatted and laughed together when a case was on the floor – as if they shared a private joke about the misfortune of the accused, sometimes two or three of them slid into a zombie like statue with their faces relaxed into a vacant stare and frown-like appearance.  The lawyers came and went and returned, the prisoners were brought out in orange striped lounge wear in handcuffs that were shackled to chains at their belts, at times people from my side of court went to sit with their lawyer to answer to the Judge.

One man tried to change his plea.  He had no teeth.  According to his court appointed attorney he was a house husband, the wife worked, and as the proceedings went forward, it was established that he had a long history of alcohol, drugs, previous burglaries, and domestic violence.  He felt that his attorney did not do a good job for him and the attorney asked if the Judge would excuse him from the case.  The answer was, “No!”

His plea was that he would go to jail for 2-5 years, admitting guilt.  He wanted to change it and ask for a jury trail to prove his innocence.  The Judge asked him if he realized that if his plea was changed, and he was convicted during the jury trial, that he could serve life in prison.  He stammered through his answers to the Judge and the Prosecutor wasn’t willing to accept a plea change.  His defense attorney begged the court to give him another opportunity, stating that mercy should be shown on him because, ‘he was a lousy thief and always managed to get caught.’  He went on to say that his client had even shown up for appointments reeking of alcohol and that showed that he needed some type of rehabilitation and perhaps prison wasn’t the right answer.  His client had been caught on surveillance tape sticking his arm through the window of a vehicle and stealing a stereo, said stereo being found at his home a few hours later.

The end came when the Judge told him his plea would not be changed and he was sentenced to 2-5 years in prison due to his past record and the present charges.  A deputy immediately slapped the handcuffs on him and just before he was taken away, he mouthed a toothless, “I love you,” to someone at the back of the court room.  I can’t help but wonder if that person – whoever it was – wasn’t relieved to have him gone.

There were others.

A young girl that had been assigned to Drug Court where she had to appear for UA and stay clean and she was ordered by the court to stay away from her boyfriend due to the court’s finding that he was a bad influence on her.  She was in the orange striped leisure suit wearing the jewelry as discovery pointed out that she had a bed available in CA to help her recover and clean up from drug abuse but she refused to take it and she missed the UA tests and even though the boyfriend was off limits, when she drove to the Drug Court for an appointment and was asked if she was staying away from him, she reported that she hadn’t seen him at all…he was found to be hiding in the back seat of the car she drove to the court.  She was in lock-up due to a felony charge of some type.  The Judge asked her if she had anything to say.  She sobbed through 20 minutes of conversation.  Three of the lawyers in the juror’s box had their heads together and found something to be pretty humorous at this point. The Judge told her that her boyfriend might be very good for her for the next 70 years, but right now the court felt that he wasn’t.  She would remain in bracelets until her trip to CA could be arranged and upon completion of her treatment, she would be on probation.  If she failed to perform, she would be in prison.  She cried her way out of the court with a deputy leading the way.

The Judge’s trial dates are set into next year.  As other prisoners came and went, dates were set for April 2011 and none of them were approved for the opportunity to post bail.  Some were given discovery dates in May and the possibility that a case could clear the trial calendar which would bring them nearer to sentencing.

I felt extremely sad for the only other woman wearing bracelets.  She appeared to be in her late 40s and extremely overweight.  She also looked to be unhealthy with limp dragging hair (but who wouldn’t under those conditions) and in need of dental work.  Someone was at the back of the courtroom on her behalf.  She kept turning to look at them, silently crying, as the prosecutor, her attorney, and the Judge exchanged terms.  She wasn’t going to be released and had to wait for trial.  She was led away still looking over her shoulder with a face filled with misery and eyes that cried but shed no tears.

All of these people were not in orange because they were model citizens yet it’s hard to watch them parade through a door hoping for better times, only to be led back through the door realizing today is not the day…and that day may not come for a long time.

Then it was time for the Jury Summons dodgers to go before the Judge.  There were three of us, only the first one called was excused and didn’t have to show due to illness – that left two.  My name was called, pronounced ‘gee’nen (it’s a hard G kids, just in case you’re wondering, like Geek).  My time before the bench was short.  The Judge asked me why I didn’t appear.  I told him I simply forgot.  He asked me what I thought he should do.  I said I had no idea.  He asked me if all the potential jurors failed to show and when asked why, they said they forgot, how should he handle it?  I said, “I really have no idea.”

He then opted to fine me $50 and the funds would go to the Drug Court.  I asked where I should pay the fine.  He told me.  I thanked him and left – of course I paid the fine before leaving the courthouse.  Hey, never piss off a Judge.  I spent four years as a legal secretary before I became a poker dealer.  Hell hath no wrath like a dude with a gavel with a case of the ass.

When I came out of the courthouse the sky was belching rain and sleet and the wind was trying to catch it all before it hit the ground and hurl it into the next county.  But damn it, I was happy I was leaving the courthouse and not inside wearing orange stripes and heavy metal.