Last week I attended court for "Jane", the woman I arrested in an earlier post for Domestic Violence. When I entered the Southern City municipal courtroom, she was sitting in the front pew. I'm not sure exactly why they have pews in the court, but even when they recently moved the courtroom from its scuzzy digs in SCPD headquarters to its shiny new office building, they kept the pew design. Perhaps it's due to Southern City being part of the Bible Belt, or maybe it's just intended to make the court experience more uncomfortable as a way of deterring crime. "Dick", I noticed, was nowhere to be seen.
Not long after I sat down, a guy in a suit with some folders under his arm came through the doors. He was pretty obviously a lawyer, and for some reason I knew immediately that of all the assorted miscreants in the room, he was there for mine. Cop ESP, I guess. He briefly scanned the pew where I was sitting with my buddies (cops in the Southern City municipal courts always sit in the back, much like surly, disgruntled adolescents in classrooms), trying to figure out which one was me. I didn't volunteer anything. He conferred briefly with Jane, confirming my suspicion, then came back to the back of the room, where the seated cops regarded him with silent expectation.
"Uh, Officer Krupke?" he asked the group of us, in hopes one would stand up. Evidently, a law school education these days doesn't prepare you to read a name tag. I answered up, and agreed to head out into the hallway to talk.
"I spoke to Renee [pseudonym of the city prosecutor] on the phone," he smiled by way of introduction. "And she told me you were a nice guy I could deal with."
"Hmm. She must have me confused with someone else."
"Oh. Heh, heh."
The lawyer went into his pitch: he wanted to set something up where Jane would go into counseling, and prosecution would be deferred. Deferred prosecution generally means that the case is held over for six months. If there is no further trouble in that six months, the charges get dropped. I had no problem with Jane getting counseling instead of jail time (I also knew perfectly well that even if she were convicted, she'd just be sent into court-ordered Anger Management anyway). But I wanted some guarantee that it would happen before I agreed to defer. The lawyer pointed out that a recent court decision in Southern State had held that deferral of prosecution could not be contingent on the defendant doing anything more than staying out of trouble, and suggested that some good faith would be involved. Remembering Jack S. and his therapy that didn't take, I informed him that I did not wish to be played for a sap. So I suggested that the case be continued for two months, at which time we'd be back in court. If at that time I was satisfied that Jane was actually doing her counseling, I'd agree to the deferral. He accepted that, and we passed the good news on to the judge. I was in and out of court in 20 minutes, which meant it wasn't even worth putting in for the overtime.
Overall, it wasn't a bad deal: with any luck, Jane will get some help without acquiring a criminal record (this was her first arrest). Had the lawyer decided to hold a bench trial that day, I would have been a long shot to win without Dick's testimony. Everybody wins.
Until Dick and Jane's next fight, that is.
Ofc. Krupke at 2:16 AM
Permalink |
---------------------
08 June 2005
In a recent fundraising appearance, DNC chairman Howard Dean was
complaining about voting machines, and the fact that several polling stations required people to wait in long lines:
You think people can work all day and then pick up their kids at child care or wherever and get home and still manage to sandwich in an eight-hour vote? Well Republicans, I guess can do that. Because a lot of them have never made an honest living in their lives.Unlike robust salt-of-the-earth workin' men like John Kerry, one presumes.
I suppose, as a Republican voter who has done a day of work or two at some point, I should be offended by this at some level, but it's hard because it's just kind of idiotic. I mean, on what commonly-held belief is this joke supposed to operate? I thought Republicans were all supposed to be ruthless corporate powermasters with Lear jets and minority-group servants they cane with passing regularity. Perhaps Dean wouldn't consider that an "honest living", but he would at least acknowledge that such people are typically busy, so the "waiting-to-vote" bit doesn't work.
After criticism, including from some prominent Dems, Dean clarified that his remark was meant to be about "Republican leaders." So, if you believe that, now the joke morphs from weird and clunky to completely nonsensical.
It would have worked better for Dean to say, "Well, Republicans, I guess can do that. Maybe they pay people to stand in line for them." It wouldn't have been any more accurate or likely to garner new Democratic votes, but at least it would have been funnier. (Note to the DNC: feel free to borrow that joke. You're welcome. You really could use the help.)
You would think, with all the entertainment luminaries infesting the Democratic party, they would be a little better at framing a gag. Look at their national security platform, for example. (rimshot)
If I were in charge of the Republican party, I would be rushing production on a series of commercials that would play video of Dean's quote, followed by a montage of real-life Republican voters to say, in effect, "Oh, yeah?" These people wouldn't just be working Republicans, they'd have jobs that Americans tend to hold in some regard: firefighters, cops, teachers (yes, some of them do vote Republican), military personnel, construction workers, etc. Dean is always talking about how the Democrats are going to go into the red states and win their votes. He's doing a bang-up job so far.
Say what you will about Dean - he's the best committee chairman the Republicans ever had.
Ofc. Krupke at 3:18 PM
Permalink |
---------------------