Profiling in the Courts

My mother always told me never to judge a book by it's cover, and I pretty much have taken that to heart. Everyone should be judge on their own personal character and not by some set of social stereotypes. Right?? Well, apparently the courts don't have to. They are free to stack the deck in their own favor based on a set of prejudices.

I was called to jury duty. This is a responsibility I personally take very seriously. I had actually been selected to sit as juror #7. During Voire Dire, (that's when they interview the jurors), it came out that I am an engineer. The interview went like this; "Jurors #7 and #4, you say you are engineers. Have you ever heard any lawyer jokes?" Yes was my reply. "Have you ever heard any engineer jokes?" Again my answer was simply yes. "Do you think that these jokes are based on stereotypes?" Any person with any social skills would know that jokes usually are based on stereotypes. I'm wondering what is the point of her questions and comments. It wasn't long till I found out. The judge asked the prosecutor if she had any peremptory challenges (that's when they dismiss jurors, just because). She replied, I'd like to excuse juror #7.

I felt violated; unjustly deprived of one of the few opportunities I'd have to serve the public interest. Most people would be glad to get out of jury duty, but for me it was a revelation that the state is free to deprive anyone they want at any level if it helps their case. Fairness has nothing to do with it; it's all about winning.

Invisible

I've been blessed (I'll just say blessed) with shiny gray hair. On more than one occasion people have told me that, "you have such nice looking hair and if it weren't for L'Oreal I'd have the same color". Naturally my response is, "why not let yours go?" The typical response I get is, "oh no, I could never let myself go gray..........it looks sooooo much better on you." Hmmmmm.

I started going gray in my 30's (you'll have to guess how long ago that was). It was then that I discovered that graying hair is a progressive loss of pigment, not only in the hair but in the skin as well. Since then I've noticed that as the years go by I'm slowly fading. It's only a matter of time before you can see completely through me. Of course, the people closest to me can already see through me.

Life Changing Capsule

The other night I fell asleep with the TV on. Groggy and in a dreamless state between unconsciousness and faint cognition I heard a voice on the TV say, "life changing capsule". Being a child of the Space Race my imagination was immediately whisked away to an earlier time in my life. A black & white memory of a freckle faced 2nd grader on a playground adventure, staring into the sky with his bald headed friend whose baldness was caused by a disease that was named after a river that flows through Pittsburgh. A youngster dumbstruck with excitement and the notion that a man was strapped to a space capsule, speeding high above the earth, in orbit (whatever that was).

Managing to finally pry my eyes open I half expected to see a promo for a Discovery Channel documentary about America's early space program. A show of the "Right Stuff" I had witnessed personally as a child along with an amazed nation. But when the blear faded all I saw was the face of a young, eager looking man, making a sales pitch for one of those "male enhancement" pills. In an instant I came to realize that since the time of our first space flights, America had eventually redefined the meaning of machismo.

Regrets Only

No, you have not been blessed with an invitation to a party from which you can only extricate yourself by talking to the host. I'm talking about regret. There are two types. Regret for past actions and regret for inaction. When you're young you might concentrate on trying to clean up your messes that come from youthful exuberance and a little alcohol. And no matter how bad your behavior, as long as no one loses an eye or worse, you can always accept it as a learning experience.

Real regret comes from not doing something; not pursuing a dream, an object, a passion, a situation. I think about that a lot these days. Just don't want to pull into the terminal at the end of the trip and think that there were a few stops I should have made on the way. Must be getting reflective as I ripen.

Grass Clippings

This one is for Mary. I too have a hard time getting all those little grass faux-hawks that get left each mower pass because the blade isn't wide enough to cut along the wheel path. It's my fault though. In my effort to go green I purchased an electric mower. Nice and quiet and no gas to burn my grass and empty my wallet. It has a nineteen inch wheel base and an eighteen inch diameter blade.......grrrrrr. I've learned that if you line the center of the blade up with the wheel track you stand a good chance of knocking down the mini-hedge rows that would otherwise get left behind. It takes half again as much time to cut the lawn, but what else would I be doing on a weekend.................yeah, helping Dave cut Mary's lawn and drinking beer. I feel your pain (in my best Bill Clinton voice).

Robot Love

In a world of robots, girls like boys for their artificial intelligence and their sincerity simulators.

What Women Want

So I'm standing in line at Starbucks and the lady i n front of me orders a mint mocha chip frappuccino double shot with a touch of caramel and whipped cream. I'm thinking that this is a complicated order. So I whisper to her, "you probably don't have that many requirements of the men you date. She smiles and says, "you're right". "They have to be single and have a job".

I guess she's right. Even a guy with seemingly unattractive traits can find romance. Look at Quasimodo. He managed to win the affections of the fair maiden. Even on a bell ringers wages.

Drinking Problem

Those that know me know I have a problem with drinking. It's evident mostly on my shirts. I enjoy my coffee but I get so jittery that I almost always spill a little and when people ask about the stain I tell them it's the aftermath of my libation offering; the gods do love me.

Just about every social event I have ever attended will have some sort of beverage available of which some always finds it's way to the fabric. I suppose it's best to join the celebration and risk a stain. I avoid getting in shape so that by belly protects my pants from the spillage. I couldn't afford the cleaning bills. Wonder if there's a 12 step program I could join? Later I'll tell you about my eating disorder.

Stages of Grief

I think everyone has heard of and understands the seven stages of grief; 1) shock 2) denial 3) bargaining 4) guilt 5) anger 6) depression and 7) acceptance. It helps us cope with sad events in our lives. When you look at each of the stages you may notice that there is an odd similarity to other events and processes.

Let's look at getting arrested. You have all seven stages of grief within this process and a few more. Somewhere between shock and denial, let's call it step 1a, you have Miranda Warning. Steps 2a and 2 b involve "appointment of counsel" and and "arraignment". I'd personally place depression in parallel with nearly every step of the process; don't ask how I know this.

Depending on how lucky you were at step 2a will determine what stage 4 is. In the courts you have two choices; guilt or non-guilt as innocent people don't find themselves in such predicaments. As with stage 4 stage 5 will have a choice of two outcomes; anger or relief.

Did I say that depression follows you throughout the entire process? I guess I did. And finally, both processes end in acceptance. Yes, acceptance of your pending immurement where you'll get three square meals per day, a warm place to sleep and a full dance card, or you'll be free. How much fun would that be?