Justice is Blinded

My number finally came up, and I got called for jury duty this week. It's not so much "jury duty" as it is "sit-and-wait-for-potential-jury duty". And the general loathing of it is really quite surprising. Everyone at work has told me at one point or another: "Gee, I hope you don't get picked." Other coworkers who experienced the jury selection process last month were telling stories of every excuse they tried on the judge to get out of serving. I got caught up in the whole stigma of it and was apprehensive at first, but right before my first day at the courthouse, I realized I was really looking forward to it. This is the one civic duty we are asked to perform in order to live in this country. Not to mention the fact that this is Law & Order in real life, not that crazy Hollywood version of it. I was so excited.

The first day turned out to be the high point of the week. A few hundred people showed up, we all watched the ridiculous "jury duty is great" propaganda video that was shot sometime in the late 80s-early 90s, and then anyone who had some kind of issue with serving was given the chance to go up and plead their case. A few people got to leave, but most people had to sit down again. Next thing I knew, my panel was called up for a case. We trekked up to the 7th floor (six sets of escalators and a stairwell) and squished into the courtroom. The judge, the lawyers, the accused, the court reporter, everyone was there. After the general details of the case were revealed (robbery and extortion), the registrar pulled our names out of the drum one by one to make up groups of 20. I ended up as the eighth person in the second group. After breaking for lunch, we waited in the jury lounge until we were called in.

I sat there, reading my book (ironically, I was reading "Wicked") when I felt something go into my left eye. Thinking it was an eyelash, I started blinking and gently brushing the corner of my eye with my fingertip. It took a lot longer than usual, and after a while it stopped hurting but it felt like there was still something there. I went to the washroom and looked in the mirror. Not only was my left eye blood red, but I could see that the eyeball itself had swelled, so that when I closed my eyelid it was sort of squeezing my eyeball in the process. Very attractive. I went to see the court officer and she tried to help me flush out my eye. When I came out of the bathroom, my group was getting ready to go to the courtroom! So I grabbed my stuff and tried my best to look normal. I thought, great, they're going to reject me because it looks like my eye is going to fall out. But I had some more waiting to do in an adjacent courtroom, and by the time it was my turn, the court officer said my eye looked a lot better than before.

I was ushered into the room and asked to take the stand. I went through all the steps, right up to the point where I stood and faced the accused. Then the defence laywer challenged me and that was the end of it. I sat down at the back of the courtroom and watched the others go through the same motions.

That was pretty much it. I sat and read for the rest of the week. We were dismissed early most days, but I found it harder and harder to stay awake for the entire time. By noon today, I was in trouble. I had finished my book, but I had failed to bring anything else to read. How was I going to pass the time? I was in the middle of reading an excerpt from the sequel (appropriately titled "Son of a Witch") when they announced the news: we were free for the rest of the day and the rest of the week. Actually, we were free for the next three years. So much for my stint in the justice system.

"Like a fire, don't need water, like a jury, needs a liar"

"Hey George, the ocean called..."

One of the funniest moments of my life occurred last night. My brothers and I decided to go to Red Lobster so that they could attempt to take advanage of an "Endless Shrimp" situation. The process was a sight to behold. Okay, it wasn't like they had a towering stack of refill dishes in front of them. In all, they probably averaged something like 60-70 smallish shrimp each. But the strategies (e.g. "We're using the salad as a base" or "Good thing I'm wearing my loose jeans"), the observations (e.g. "I think the garlic butter has penetrated the lower layers of my skin") and the preparations for the consequences (e.g."I want my tombstone to say 'Death by Shrimp'...that would be so cool") made me laugh so hard I thought I was going to puke before they would.

"They say the devil's water, it ain't so sweet, you don't have to drink right now"

Sliding Scale

On a smaller but crazier scale, another plane crashes into another building in NYC today. Significantly less damage and loss of life, to be sure.

Well, what are the odds that I know someone who lives in that building??

I was very emotionally affected by the events of 9/11. But out of the thousands of people who were involved, I didn't know a single one of them. Tonight, I find out that a girl I went to university with was actually in that building when the plane hit it. She saw the falling debris from her window. She was evacuated with the other residents. She stood out in the rain as the emergency crews ran around to contain the fire and treat the injured. She was allowed back into her apartment about half an hour ago. She's okay, which is good to know.

Suddenly, the entire event seems so much bigger to me.

"The streets are in distress, the sun suffocates behind darkened skies"

What is Art?

One of the best things to happen to my city in long time is Nuit Blanche, an entire night devoted to art, displayed in strange and unexpected places. Anyone who knows me knows that I am not an expert or an aficionado. So this night was special to me, in that I could be a little nomadic, open my mind, and explore my city the way I explore other cities. And see if I could stay awake until 7 in the morning.

Walking through a man-made fog, encountering two police officers dancing the tango in the middle of the street, "eventually" finding a secret garden, watching sheep grazing across the dome of the planetarium, eating hot roasted corn, spelling out a name in a block of ice in the middle of a carwash, experiencing the divorce of two gay penguins, observing a woman asleep in a glass display case, discovering galleries I never knew existed.

Unconventional art, to say the least, and perhaps it wasn't that impressive to some. But I liked it all because it's something that I don't get to see every day. Or ever. And it expresses something that can't be expressed any other way.

The best part, which was agreed upon by all the people I was with throughout the night, was that the city was so alive, so full of people roaming around in search of cultural enlightenment. For one night, everyone was the same.

I made it to 3:00 am. Better luck next time.

"We keep on waiting, waiting on the world to change"