My online bud, the California Cowgirl posted some of her intentions for the new year. Here are some of mine.
1. You're going to see and hear more of me. I have several posts plotted out but unwritten.
2. See #1. I think I need to post a few more photography lessons. From what I've been seeing you guys really need to understand where the sweet spot is. Hello this is a photography class, not an X rated film.
3. I intend to promote myself more.
4. I need to take time out to just be. I've been far to busy being busy.
5. I need to connect on a regular basis with my friends and family.
6. I think I need to redesign this blog. The music is boring me, God only knows what it's doing to you.
7. I will diet and exercise. I will I will I will.
8. Oh yes, now that I'm dragged into it kicking and screaming, I will try to be more tolerant of our US criminal justice system. I am going back to court in January. If I could only find that prescription pad and burn it. Oh well.
9. Howard Street has been quiet lately, but that doesn't mean the loons are gone. I don't think this counts as an intention, maybe it should be counted as an addendum to point 1. Say point 1c. (Rereading this point 8 should be point 1b or maybe we're at point 1..a..27)
Have the Happiest New Year. We were going to go away, but Tommy went to see War Horse and now he's so depressed, he just wants to stay at home. I, personally, have no intention of seeing it. I remember Bambi, Dumbo and ET. There are certain movies I know better than to go see. If any of ya'll go, I'll be interested in your reaction.
This isn't a cheery ending. So pooh on that. We are all going to have a lovely year and that's my last word on the subject.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Day in Court - 2
Well this happy trip into the US justice system was the polar opposite of my previous experience. First of all the defendants, for the most part, did not look like solid citizens who through no fault of their own ended up in court. Nope, they looked like they crawled out from under rocks, slithered out of flop houses, or wandered in after a lifetime spent on the street. It was almost as if they were in a contest to see who could be nominated the dirtiest, smelliest and most pitiful person there. And, none of them had an attorney, public defender or otherwise.
The judge was also different. The judge before was bored, but respectful. This guy came across like some unhappy combination of the Queen of Hearts and the stereotypical wild west hanging judge. The first thing he did after entering the courtroom was bang down the gavel and scream that if he saw or heard a cellphone, the owner of said cell phone was off to jail in contempt of court.
Then he called the names of several people in the courtroom and asked them to come up to the bench. They came forward to see if they could get out of their charges. One by one they told their pitiful story and after each tale was told, the judge slammed down the gavel and screamed denied. Somewhere around the third or fourth sorry soul, he squinched up his eyes and stared out into the room. "Was that a sound I heard out of one you?" he sneered. "The next one of you who opens his or her mouth, is on their way to jail in contempt of court."
Now I believe it was the fifth or sixth loser, who stumbled up on two canes, carrying a canister of oxygen. It seems she had been caught in possession of a large amount of marijuana. "I'm a very sick woman, Your Honor," she wheezed. "Do I look like the sort of person who could smoke a large amount of marijuana?
"You don't need to be the smoker, to be in possession," he said, "DENIED."
Now if I was a member of this miserable and dwindling group, I think it would be occurring to me that this was a real losing proposition and my best course of action would be to tell the state's attorney I wanted a jury trial and find an attorney any attorney. The odds had to be better.
But no, they each stumbled up and told why they were innocent and each one was denied.
After about two hours of having all of this fun, my new best friend, came up and told me that the defendant wanted a jury trial and I was free to go. So roasting, this courtroom was hot and yes coming down with another migraine I left.
Well, gentle readers, this the case of the stolen prescription pad, and the pages that were sold from it. So, there very well could be more fun days in court to come.
The judge was also different. The judge before was bored, but respectful. This guy came across like some unhappy combination of the Queen of Hearts and the stereotypical wild west hanging judge. The first thing he did after entering the courtroom was bang down the gavel and scream that if he saw or heard a cellphone, the owner of said cell phone was off to jail in contempt of court.
Then he called the names of several people in the courtroom and asked them to come up to the bench. They came forward to see if they could get out of their charges. One by one they told their pitiful story and after each tale was told, the judge slammed down the gavel and screamed denied. Somewhere around the third or fourth sorry soul, he squinched up his eyes and stared out into the room. "Was that a sound I heard out of one you?" he sneered. "The next one of you who opens his or her mouth, is on their way to jail in contempt of court."
Now I believe it was the fifth or sixth loser, who stumbled up on two canes, carrying a canister of oxygen. It seems she had been caught in possession of a large amount of marijuana. "I'm a very sick woman, Your Honor," she wheezed. "Do I look like the sort of person who could smoke a large amount of marijuana?
"You don't need to be the smoker, to be in possession," he said, "DENIED."
Now if I was a member of this miserable and dwindling group, I think it would be occurring to me that this was a real losing proposition and my best course of action would be to tell the state's attorney I wanted a jury trial and find an attorney any attorney. The odds had to be better.
But no, they each stumbled up and told why they were innocent and each one was denied.
After about two hours of having all of this fun, my new best friend, came up and told me that the defendant wanted a jury trial and I was free to go. So roasting, this courtroom was hot and yes coming down with another migraine I left.
Well, gentle readers, this the case of the stolen prescription pad, and the pages that were sold from it. So, there very well could be more fun days in court to come.
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Poking My Nose Out
Today, I do not have to go to court. YEAH.
Well they say you should always begin a story at the beginning and this one starts this past spring. There I was at work, minding my own business, when the phone rang. Now normally the office assistant answers the phone, but she was at lunch. So being the proactive little dooby that I am, I answered it. Big Mistake. The person on the line wanted to know if a certain doctor was on staff, and when I said no, that doctor hasn't been here for years, the voice on the line said and I quote "Got Her."
Well it turned out that the person on the line was a cop and the her in question was using a stolen prescription pad to write scripts for Oxycontin and Percocet. "Hmm, interesting," I thought to myself as I hung up, little knowing what was headed my way.
Well folks, what was heading my way was subpoenas and my new career as a state's witness. Try as I might to wriggle out, there was no wriggling. I was caught and I was going to court.
Court Appearance #1
If you think when you are a witness, you are treated the same way the jurors are. Forget it, you aren't. You have to sit on a hard bench, in the courtroom until you're particular case is called. I guess they keep you like a trapped rat so you won't bolt. I was forced to sit there for four miserable hours while my state's attorney, during breaks in the action, would walk over, point, and tell the defence attorney that her "star witness" was here. Lucky right?
Anyway during my four hours I saw and heard some interesting things. All of the defendants looked like executives or clean cut coeds. They were dressed as if to say "look see how respectable I am. You couldn't possibly think a solid citizen like myself could have possibly done that?" The attorneys were all dressed in black suits and, when they weren't working, sat around gossiping or doing other meaningful things like playing Angry Birds on an ipad.
My favorite defendant, I kid you not, was seen distributing drugs on a church parking lot and when the police caught him, he had forty bags of marijuana in his underpants. Let that thought sink in. What was he wearing maternity underwear? I could see maybe eight bags, but forty. Jeesh. Just as I was calculating how get got all of those bags in there, (did I mention that they were four very long and very boring hours) my new best friend the state's attorney came over and told me that our defendant took a plea deal and I was free to go. So, cold, the courtroom was freezing, starving and developing what turned out to be the beginnings of a migraine, I left.
Stay tuned for Court Appearance #2
Well they say you should always begin a story at the beginning and this one starts this past spring. There I was at work, minding my own business, when the phone rang. Now normally the office assistant answers the phone, but she was at lunch. So being the proactive little dooby that I am, I answered it. Big Mistake. The person on the line wanted to know if a certain doctor was on staff, and when I said no, that doctor hasn't been here for years, the voice on the line said and I quote "Got Her."
Well it turned out that the person on the line was a cop and the her in question was using a stolen prescription pad to write scripts for Oxycontin and Percocet. "Hmm, interesting," I thought to myself as I hung up, little knowing what was headed my way.
Well folks, what was heading my way was subpoenas and my new career as a state's witness. Try as I might to wriggle out, there was no wriggling. I was caught and I was going to court.
Court Appearance #1
If you think when you are a witness, you are treated the same way the jurors are. Forget it, you aren't. You have to sit on a hard bench, in the courtroom until you're particular case is called. I guess they keep you like a trapped rat so you won't bolt. I was forced to sit there for four miserable hours while my state's attorney, during breaks in the action, would walk over, point, and tell the defence attorney that her "star witness" was here. Lucky right?
Anyway during my four hours I saw and heard some interesting things. All of the defendants looked like executives or clean cut coeds. They were dressed as if to say "look see how respectable I am. You couldn't possibly think a solid citizen like myself could have possibly done that?" The attorneys were all dressed in black suits and, when they weren't working, sat around gossiping or doing other meaningful things like playing Angry Birds on an ipad.
My favorite defendant, I kid you not, was seen distributing drugs on a church parking lot and when the police caught him, he had forty bags of marijuana in his underpants. Let that thought sink in. What was he wearing maternity underwear? I could see maybe eight bags, but forty. Jeesh. Just as I was calculating how get got all of those bags in there, (did I mention that they were four very long and very boring hours) my new best friend the state's attorney came over and told me that our defendant took a plea deal and I was free to go. So, cold, the courtroom was freezing, starving and developing what turned out to be the beginnings of a migraine, I left.
Stay tuned for Court Appearance #2
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