goddess of clarity: a blog about politics, culture, and serenity

Archive: February 14 - February 26, 2005

February 21, 2005 — 21:03 EST :: permalink

Every now and then, I realize it's worthwhile remembering how grateful I am that my life is as stable and humdrum and boring and normal as it is. And after serving as a juror in a murder trial, this is one of those times.

The lives of all the people caught up in this crime are so messed up as to beggar belief. The victim, defendant, and witnesses were all drug dealers and most likely drug addicts. The defendant's girlfriend of 12 years testified against him. She has two children with him, another child with a different guy (while she was still living with the defendant) and all while she's married to a third guy who lives in the U.S. Virgin Islands. At the end of the day, we had no choice but to acquit the guy; the prosecution had no real case and it could have been any one of the large group of friends he was hanging with that day who pulled the trigger.

So it is on days like this that I find it useful to just be grateful. Grateful for the fact that I wake up every morning in my warm, cozy pajamas and have a bowl of Maple Pecan Crunch for breakfast. Grateful that I can then head off to my full-time job, where my boss treats me with respect and I get along with my co-workers, when they're not driving me to fits of comic distraction. And especially grateful that at the end of the day, I get to come home to the lovely Mr. Goddess, who I am always, *always* happy to see.

We talk about what we want to have for dinner. Eat in? Eat out? Indian? Thai? We decide what movie to go see, or what DVD to watch. Or we might just settle in for an evening of Madden 2005 on the Playstation. On Friday mornings, we go to the Frog Pond for breakfast. On Sunday mornings, we go to Spin for coffee and the New York Times. And all is right with the world. If this makes me boring, then I stand in praise of boredom.

—lori.

February 15, 2005 — 20:09 EST

I guess I'm not as bright as I thought I was, since it seems I'm not smart enough to get out of jury duty. For the next five to seven days I'll be joining 13 of my fellow citizens in the jury box at the Monroe County Hall of Justice (yes, that's what it's called. I thought they would at least let me bring my Superfriends so that together we could fight the Legion of Doom, but apparently it doesn't work that way).

I had a feeling during the questioning phase that they were going to pick me. Somehow I just knew it. The judge didn't really single me out for many specific questions. Neither did either of the attorneys. I think I must have just blended in, in that bland, innocuous way I have about me. Plus, most of the rest of folks in my jury pool seemed to have had some direct contact with the criminal justice system at some point in their lives, and as it turns out, attorneys don't like to include sisters of drug dealers, cousins of murder victims, or wives of 32-year sheriff's department veterans on juries. Of my pool of 14, only three were selected — me, a fifth-grade science teacher, and an administrator for the local Girl Scouts. Goody-goodies all.

The jury selection continued on for a second day today (now I know why they don't ever show jury selection on Law and Order; it takes foreeeeeeeever) and the trial starts tomorrow. The judge didn't say that we weren't allowed to talk about the trial or anything, but given the knowledge of the criminal justice system afforded me by my devotion to Law and Order reruns, I'll err on the side of silence. I don't know much about the case anyway, but I do know that I'm not really looking forward to it. I realize there are worse things in life than serving jury duty (try being on trial, for a start), so I'm trying to not feel too sorry for myself. It may even be interesting. I doubt it, but you never know.

—lori.