A Jury of None

Howdy, Tribe. I spoke with El-Jon Wertheim (that's his Arabic name) yesterday morning; he's on jury duty . If you want to see the worst side of New Yorkers (I think even ESPN bashing, unrepentant Upper West Snob Tim would admit this), check out their performance when they're called to jury duty. Oh, my God! I can't do this! I'm supposed to have lunch with a guy who knows Jerry Seinfeld's agent in 10 days!

Actually, someone in Wert's group apparently got in the Officer of the Court's face the other day. This schmuck had been reading Franz Kafka's The Trial (ooooooh, Big Intellect alert!) and he took it upon himself to offer up a critique of our judicial system. Wert said the presiding judge then sorted out the whole lot of them. I'll paraphrase: Your government doesn't ask all that much of you. You don't have to join the Army. You don't have to vote. About all we make you do is insist that you be available to give one of your peers exactly the kind of  hearing you yourself would want , in his shoes.

I confess, I'm into jury duty (perhaps because as younger man I was way too much like Kafka boy). It can actually be inspiring. The last time I went, I made the first two cuts on a violent crime (rape) case, and then we got down to actual selection process - the interesting part, where a small (25 or so) pool of potential jurors are interviewed by the judge and lawyers, who can then exercises veto power to keep specific individuals off the panel (ostensibly because they would be "hostile" jurors) as they select the final panel and alternates.

This is the point where reluctant jurors start to panic and dig deep into the "How to Get out of Jury Duty" playbook. In my case, some guy had a third-cousin who was a cop, and he insisted that prevented him from being an open-minded juror due to bias toward law enforcement.  A woman got off because she claimed that her third-cousin had briefly dated the producer of a Sixty Minutes-style expose on the court system. Lame got lamer. Another woman - an attractive model/actress/waitress, constantly sneaking covert glances at her Blackberry- said she couldn't possibly be fair because she once met someone at a Seven-Eleven who knew someone whose best friend's girlfriend's roommate had been sexually assaulted.

Then came another young woman, who really played it straight. When the defense attorney got to the point where she had to disclose any bias toward either the prosecution or defense, the girl levelly told him (and everyone was listening; it's an open process that way) that she had been the victim of a violent rape. The ensuing 10-minute dialog was deeply moving, as this woman humbly made the case for being able to adhere to principles like "reasonable doubt" - and it's surprising how uncomfortable people get when that somewhat amorphous principle is defined and weighed. Anyway, this lady wasn't eager either way; she just seemed extraordinarily willing to accept the juror's burden, and was willing to try to set aside all other things and step up to do her civic duty despite her own experience.

It was a command performance of great citizenry. Of course, the defense nixed her, but that doesn't matter.

So Samantha, Momofan, other junior-division Elders. . . keep this issue in mind for the future.

Anyway, I'm inviting you all to go over to SImaibag and give El-Jon an electronic, maybe pose a question (he'd be a good voice to get into the Warrior Moment debate). He'll be a great juror, you can tell just from reading his writing. It's always sparkling clear, and when it comes to the quality a musician might describe as "pitch", El-Jon is spot-on perfect in just about everything he writes. And he does it with no fanfare. He just turns down the volume on the TV, puts the kids to bed, cracks a Snapple and writes. Talk about Just do It!

Okay, on to some thoughts on Bjorn Borg and his forehand. . . next post.