Jury duty has become a cliche, and not without good reason. It's like the winning the lottery in reverse every few years when that white envelope from the county courthouse arrives notifying you that you're being ordered to have a long boring day. And you'd damn well better be there when they tell to be there or you face the possibility of a fine, or even run the risk of the deputies coming to pick you up. Who wouldn't resent that?
I'm no different than anyone else in this regard, and when I got that white envelope, I opened and quickly scanned through the part where it talks about exemptions, hoping against hope that I could claim one. No dice. Then I began thinking. I've never been on a jury before, and the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to be picked for one. The mere thought of playing a part in deciding someones fate became a real rush for me (and a somewhat unwholesome one at that, now that I think about it), and I began looking forward to today's trip to the courthouse.
I could give you the coffeehouse creative writing take on the day, but why stretch it out? The short version is that this holiday week has a less hectic court schedule, so they let a fifth of the 500 people called in for the jury pool go early by late morning and I was one of them. It was nice to have the rest of the day to myself, but as you can gather from my earlier statements, I was a little disappointed.
Having gone this experience again, it's caused me to reflect and ask, why isn't there a better way to do this? No, no. I need to rephrase that. Why isn't it being done a better way?
Yeah, I get it, I know how the system works. Hundreds of people get called for various cases about to be heard, and all but a fraction of the time, the case doesn't even make it to opening arguments because one or both of the lawyers are playing chicken and hopes to get a better bargain from the other side. So, basically, out of 500 or so people, only maybe 50 (if that even) actually hear a case. The result? A normal person's day is wasted. The lawyers, judges, and bailiffs are paid to be there, so they're not out anything.
My solution? The same computer that picks a random group for the general jury pool can do the same thing, but will instead pick smaller groups for specific court cases. A person chosen for jury duty will arrive in the morning outside of the courtroom, where court proceedings will begin immediately, not some big hall to wait for hours in uncomfortable chairs and fathomless boredom. Any plea deal must be made the day before, and posted to a Web site so potential jurors will know they don't have to show up. If a plea is made after that, the side that initiated it pays each member of the jury pool $100, and considering the pool for the average case is 40 or so, I don't think you'd see the same kind of foolishness that you do now.
And you don't like that plan, I'll see you in court.
Showing posts with label modest proposal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label modest proposal. Show all posts
Monday, July 2, 2007
Thursday, June 7, 2007
Another musing on civility, decency, and your fellow man
I don't have facts or figures to back this up, but rest assured, I'm 100% confident in saying that in the history of the world since the invention of the automobile, no one has ever taken up two spots without knowing it. And notice I didn't say "since the invention of parking lot stripes" because I do not believe that a person can park eight feet from another car without knowing they are eight feet from another car, stripes or no stripes.
Every time you see that (or do it, you creep), you are witnessing a bit of sociopathy in action. It's not a question of knowing that they are inconveniencing someone else, it's that they don't care. In their everyday life, they probably abide by the rules like the rest of us do, but not because they believe in the underlying ethics or morality of them, they just don't want to deal with the consequences of breaking the big ones. Taking up two spots is worry free. Just try to think back to last time you keyed a car for that, if you ever did.
Unfortunately, the world is full of people who are rude to waiters, receptionists, and janitors; who steal from the lunchroom refrigerator, the supply room, or your desk; bosses who expect extra time from you and not them, who short your check, and who make promises they have no intention of keeping; and the list goes on.
Not all of it rises to the level of outright criminal behavior, but it is certainly stuff that sleazy people feel that they can get away with. The reason they feel that way is because we let them do it.
What I suggest is that we call them on it. Not everybody, mind you, just the people in our immediate sphere of influence. If all of us got together and modified the behavior of just one jerk, the world would be so much more livable. And think of how much fun it would be to punch your mother-in-law in the face for taking up two parking spots.
Every time you see that (or do it, you creep), you are witnessing a bit of sociopathy in action. It's not a question of knowing that they are inconveniencing someone else, it's that they don't care. In their everyday life, they probably abide by the rules like the rest of us do, but not because they believe in the underlying ethics or morality of them, they just don't want to deal with the consequences of breaking the big ones. Taking up two spots is worry free. Just try to think back to last time you keyed a car for that, if you ever did.
Unfortunately, the world is full of people who are rude to waiters, receptionists, and janitors; who steal from the lunchroom refrigerator, the supply room, or your desk; bosses who expect extra time from you and not them, who short your check, and who make promises they have no intention of keeping; and the list goes on.
Not all of it rises to the level of outright criminal behavior, but it is certainly stuff that sleazy people feel that they can get away with. The reason they feel that way is because we let them do it.
What I suggest is that we call them on it. Not everybody, mind you, just the people in our immediate sphere of influence. If all of us got together and modified the behavior of just one jerk, the world would be so much more livable. And think of how much fun it would be to punch your mother-in-law in the face for taking up two parking spots.
Monday, April 30, 2007
My modest school zone/parking lot proposal
The route from my house to the mall takes me past a school, and yesterday as I was making the drive shortly after the school let out, I thought about a friend from my early teenage years.
You see, I grew up in a small town, and for the most part, if you were between the ages of 11 and 15 and wanted to go somewhere (the arcade, the library, or a friend's house, etc.), you rode your bicycle.
Don't take this as me bragging, but at the age of 12 or 13, I had a fair amount of understanding as to how the world works. I especially understood that in the event of an automobile-bicycle collision, the automobile is always going to win, and I also understood that with Mexico only being a few miles away, a large number of drivers were both a) uninsured, and b) disinclined to phone the authorities for help in the event that they hit you. My friend "Tim" never understood that (and no, the story doesn't end that way).
It's at least understood, if not required by law, that bicyclists should ride within about three feet from the edge of the road and obey posted traffic signs. And I'll reemphasize my point here, you shouldn't follow these rules because they're polite or because you might get a ticket; you should follow them because if a guy driving a car hits you, you'll be the only one to feel it.
None of that ever made any sense to Tim. He didn't care about the law, common courtesy, and it never quite sunk into his head that someone either had to have money or insurance in order for you to sue them. I can distinctly remember five or six times when he ran a stop sign or was riding in the middle of the street and a car had to screech to a halt in order to avoid killing him, and dozens of other more minor incidents where there was a strong potential for him to be hurt.
The thing is, he wasn't dumb. As far as IQ went, he was probably a little above average. Like the father on That 70s Show would say, he was a dumb ass; someone who lets their immaturity or self-centeredness override their intelligence and common sense in order to do something stupid.
Tim and I quit being friends around the age of 16, but it was a small town, so word of his various misadventures would get back to me to fairly regularly (his arrest during spring break for shoplifting a can of bean dip was a good one). This steady stream of idiotic activity would culminate when he was about 22 or 23 and instantly elevate him from mere ne'er do well legendary local dumb ass.
I'll spare you the long version of the story and just bottom line it for you. Tim got into a heated argument with a cholo. The cholo pulls a knife, Tim pulls a gun. That ends the fight, right? Not exactly. The fight ends when Tim shoots himself in the leg. Having heard multiple explanations, even one from an eyewitness, as to how it happened, for the life of me, I still can't understand how it happened.
Tim never faced any real consequences for his actions until the day a 9mm slug bit into his femur. Tim, and more importantly, the people who were on the receiving end of Tim's idiotic behavior, would have had a better life had he gotten his cosmic comeuppance a decade earlier.
OK, so what does all of this have to do with the mall and schools at dismissal time? If you've driven by either of these places recently, you've probably noticed the behavior of the people at these places is similar to Tim's (except these are mostly pedestrians). What I suggest is that we help these unfortunate souls become better people, and by helping them, we'll be helping ourselves as well.
My modest proposal can be summed up in two words: keep going.
Here's the beauty of the plan. The 20-30 mph you're normally driving at when going past a school or in parking lot isn't fast enough to kill most people, but it's more than fast enough to teach a lesson to sullen teenagers or the odd, middle-aged doofus who think the rules of polite society doesn't apply to him. What's more, the six months they'll spend sitting with an ankle to crotch cast on their leg will give them plenty of time to reflect of the fact that they're not the center of the universe.
More polite people means fewer angry drivers, which in turn means more people with lower blood pressure, and that means more people will have longer, happier lives.
So let's all pitch in and make the world a better place! Just be sure to keep a copy of this to show the judge when he asks you about the plan.
courtesy
You see, I grew up in a small town, and for the most part, if you were between the ages of 11 and 15 and wanted to go somewhere (the arcade, the library, or a friend's house, etc.), you rode your bicycle.
Don't take this as me bragging, but at the age of 12 or 13, I had a fair amount of understanding as to how the world works. I especially understood that in the event of an automobile-bicycle collision, the automobile is always going to win, and I also understood that with Mexico only being a few miles away, a large number of drivers were both a) uninsured, and b) disinclined to phone the authorities for help in the event that they hit you. My friend "Tim" never understood that (and no, the story doesn't end that way).
It's at least understood, if not required by law, that bicyclists should ride within about three feet from the edge of the road and obey posted traffic signs. And I'll reemphasize my point here, you shouldn't follow these rules because they're polite or because you might get a ticket; you should follow them because if a guy driving a car hits you, you'll be the only one to feel it.
None of that ever made any sense to Tim. He didn't care about the law, common courtesy, and it never quite sunk into his head that someone either had to have money or insurance in order for you to sue them. I can distinctly remember five or six times when he ran a stop sign or was riding in the middle of the street and a car had to screech to a halt in order to avoid killing him, and dozens of other more minor incidents where there was a strong potential for him to be hurt.
The thing is, he wasn't dumb. As far as IQ went, he was probably a little above average. Like the father on That 70s Show would say, he was a dumb ass; someone who lets their immaturity or self-centeredness override their intelligence and common sense in order to do something stupid.
Tim and I quit being friends around the age of 16, but it was a small town, so word of his various misadventures would get back to me to fairly regularly (his arrest during spring break for shoplifting a can of bean dip was a good one). This steady stream of idiotic activity would culminate when he was about 22 or 23 and instantly elevate him from mere ne'er do well legendary local dumb ass.
I'll spare you the long version of the story and just bottom line it for you. Tim got into a heated argument with a cholo. The cholo pulls a knife, Tim pulls a gun. That ends the fight, right? Not exactly. The fight ends when Tim shoots himself in the leg. Having heard multiple explanations, even one from an eyewitness, as to how it happened, for the life of me, I still can't understand how it happened.
Tim never faced any real consequences for his actions until the day a 9mm slug bit into his femur. Tim, and more importantly, the people who were on the receiving end of Tim's idiotic behavior, would have had a better life had he gotten his cosmic comeuppance a decade earlier.
OK, so what does all of this have to do with the mall and schools at dismissal time? If you've driven by either of these places recently, you've probably noticed the behavior of the people at these places is similar to Tim's (except these are mostly pedestrians). What I suggest is that we help these unfortunate souls become better people, and by helping them, we'll be helping ourselves as well.
My modest proposal can be summed up in two words: keep going.
Here's the beauty of the plan. The 20-30 mph you're normally driving at when going past a school or in parking lot isn't fast enough to kill most people, but it's more than fast enough to teach a lesson to sullen teenagers or the odd, middle-aged doofus who think the rules of polite society doesn't apply to him. What's more, the six months they'll spend sitting with an ankle to crotch cast on their leg will give them plenty of time to reflect of the fact that they're not the center of the universe.
More polite people means fewer angry drivers, which in turn means more people with lower blood pressure, and that means more people will have longer, happier lives.
So let's all pitch in and make the world a better place! Just be sure to keep a copy of this to show the judge when he asks you about the plan.
courtesy
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