21 october 1998
the grinding wheels of justice
look out, it's an oncoming jury selection.

The quote of the day:
We call this pork. And lately I've begun to feel guilty about that. There are pigs who could be offended by it.

-- A senator on the spending bill just passed.

Bummer: I got called in today. Worse bummer: the court in Hollywood is way inefficient.

My group of juror candidates was told to come in at 2pm. Cool, whatever. We sit around until 3, at which point we're sent down the hall to a courtroom. Well, to wait outside a courtroom (where there aren't enough seats.) We have to wait for Beatrice the Jury Clerk to get the list of jurors to the bailiff.

Finally we file into the courtroom, at which point the judge explains the court's scheduling procedures. We swear to be the best and fairest jurors we can...and then we're dismissed, told to return at 11 tomorrow morning for the voir dire (juror questioning).

Kee-rist. I'm more impressed by the Sunnyvale Court system by the second, which called us in, did the voir dire, and started the trial the same day.

 * * *

Al wrote me to say jury duty can be a hardship--many companies don't pay for time off, some people might lose their jobs, etc. In that case, then getting out of jury duty seems to be the prudent thing. In Hollywood at least, exceptions are made for hardship cases: you present your case, they exempt you.

One reader in Missouri mentioned that she gets called for jury duty every year, which would really suck. Here in California, I believe you get so many years out of the pool every time you're called--I guess we have a lot more people. Of course, we have more cases, too.

I've heard of some great ways people have of getting out of jury duty. When questioned, saying, "The defendant looks guilty," will get you excused, post-haste.

When my father was asked if he had any relatives in law enforcement, he mentioned he had a cousin on the Philadelphia police force. Upon hearing that, the prosecutor disqualified him.

So, what you done to get out of jury duty (when you knew you could serve)? Come on, you know you want to come clean. Tell Auntie Di. Don't worry, I won't use your name--unless you don't mind.


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Copyright 1998 Diane Patterson
Send comments and questions to diane@spies.com