I have been a registered voter since 1976. It was exciting to become a voter at 18, so I don’t even think I waited a day after my birthday to register. I did not, however, register for Selective Service, which continued to haunt me for a decade or so until I found out that I didn’t have to register for the military anyway.
This is a good thing, since I would have been court-martialed almost immediately. I cannot see myself being broken to the point that I would willing to crawl through any mud or under barbed wire, let alone with live fire going on all around me. That idea of “Sir, Yes Sir!” just isn’t part of my psyche, anymore than a wild mustang is going to let some cowboy just jump on his back. He has to be broken first, and with me, that just isn’t going to happen.
As a registered voter, one’s sacred duty is to serve on a jury when called upon. In the intervening 35 years, I have never served on a jury. I have been called, but have never served.
It’s not that I don’t admire what juries do. I’ve watched enough Perry Mason to know that it’s a pretty tough job to sit there all day, not looking like you’re not fidgeting, bored out your mind or that your butt fell asleep during the opening statement. Plus you have to make nice with 11 strangers who come from all walks of life and none would ever be your friend, even if they were able to buy you a beer in the jury room.
Which, by the way, would be a good way to get me to serve on a jury. I know lawyers serve on a bar, but if they had a bar in the jury room, I might consider doing my civic duty. That would certainly make the review of evidence much more interesting and really, the odds would fall in the favor of the accused. Think about any time you’ve been in a bar swilling several beers. The guy next to you will tell you a fantastic story of bullshit and you’ll sit right there, look him in the eye, and believe every word of it.
Well, isn’t that what the defense wants anyway? Everyone knows that OJ Simpson was guilty, but in LA there must be open bars in the jury room because no sober juror was going to find this guy innocent. There had to be a brewfest going on back there.
Back to me as a juror. I have been called twice to serve. The first time I was in transit as a Residential Travel Consultant, so I had timed my departure from Bellevue perfectly. I no long lived in the city, so no city jury time for me.
The second time was three years ago. I was called to serve by the Brevard County court system. Now, running your own business means that every day you’re out of the office, you’re not making any money. So serving a week on a jury costs me a ton of money, at least in a good year of business.
I wrote them a nice letter asking them to reschedule my service. I pleaded that since I was self-employed, it would cause extreme financial hardship. They denied my request and instructed me to call on Monday to see where I should go to serve my time.
I was not happy. But then I noticed on the summons that if I failed to show up, the county courts could choose to levy a fine of up to $100. Wow, a hundred bucks if I don’t show? What a bargain. On Monday, I didn’t call. I didn’t show up. I defied the summons.
I never received any fine. Nothing. The big bad courts made their big bad threat and didn’t even bother to tag me for the fine. And we wonder what’s wrong with our government system.
It’s not that I don’t think being on a jury wouldn’t be interesting. But I wouldn’t be a good juror. I don’t really have an open mind about right and wrong and whether someone is guilty or not.
I really don’t even think you should get your hand slapped hard if you did something once. For example, say you blow .10 on the breathalyzer but don’t hit anybody or anything. You were just weaving a little bit by your home. That hardly deserves thousands of dollars in fines or time in jail. Let the guy go free with a little hand slap. But, if he comes back again and has done the same stupid thing, toss him in jail for a week and take his car away. Forgive once, punish the next.
This applies to nearly any transgression in my book, outside of rape, murder, armed robbery or assault. If you do violence to another person or threaten to, you get the book thrown at you the first time and it should smack you hard right between the eyes.
I’ve always wandered what it would be like to have the prosecutor ask me about my views on certain issues. For example, I’m not a big death penalty guy. Why end his life and his suffering? Make him sit in a cell with the photos of his victim, staring at them 24 hours a day in maximum security lockup. Remind him every day why he is going to spend every one of his remaining days on earth in an 8×8 cell, eating Nutraloaf three times a day and being Bubba’s bitch. Make his existence miserable. Don’t give him an easy out.
When asked what I think is a fair punishment for jaywalking, I’d want to answer the death penalty, though. I want them to think I’m either crazy or have absolutely no sense of fairness. Because I definitely won’t be fair if I have to sit in a chair and listen to people tell half-truths and outright lie to me, expecting me to believe them. If I wanted to do that, I would attend the Republican Candidate Debates. Now there is one gigantic criminal act that deserves the swift backhand of justice.
Out on the Treasure Coast, being my own judge and jury today,
– Robb