What better time to serve my civic duty of jury duty than now? Juggling interviews around this enlightening experience was just one of the highlights of the past 7 days. I also learned the multiple meanings of a simple but now widely seen tattoo. I found out that while in court time stops behaving as we have been taught all of our life. I tasted the best Pho since Maria took me to a place in OC. Oh yeah, I also managed to pull both my hamstrings while momentarily forgetting my age! Not to mention, I had the enjoyable experience of learning that both my ex-Governor and my potentially soon to be ex-Governor are sex fiends.
I was committed to not being placed on a jury. I was also committed to not pissing off a judge who might see through my attempt at trying to not get picked on a jury. So I decided to be mostly truthful… Jury selection begins and of course it’s a drug trial with a black defendant. In my mind I’m thinking this is great. I’ll never get picked. I know too many lawyers, my friend’s Dad is a Sheriff, my Dad was a Marshall…the Defense will want me until they hear that. The Prosecution will of course like the fact that I know so many law abiding citizens, however I challenged him on one of his questions.
Prosecution: Does anyone here not think that it is always possible to figure out someone’s intent based on their actions and their surroundings?”
Salinas: I’m sorry I don’t think that’s possible at all. There is no way you can say you can understand someone’s intent all the time based on their actions and surroundings.
Judge: Mr. Salinas let me try and rephrase what I think the Prosecutor was trying to say. Do you think it is possible to sometimes interpret someone’s intent based on their actions and their surroundings?
Salinas (in my head): Damn!
Salinas (out loud): In that case your honor, I would have to say yes…sometimes, it is possible.
Salinas (in my head): She’s on to me.
With my tail between my legs, I hope that I did enough to warrant either the Prosecution or Defense using one of their dismissals on me. Obviously, since I’m not that lucky, when it was announced who amongst the 16 of us were picked to be on the jury…I was one of 4 picked. We were excused for the day while the judge continued to pick the jury. Fast forward to the next day. My day starts at 11:45am (yes 11:45am). For some reason our legal system really is as inefficient as you probably always thought. Jury selection continues, even though the Judge thought she would be done by noon. I spend the rest of the day on a bench outside the court room while they pick the rest of my lucky crew of 14 + 2 alternates. At least I’m earning money during this adventure. Going rate for sitting on a bench outside of a court room in NYC = $40.00. I think to myself, “This is better than getting paid nothing to watch CNBC at home.” Tuesday evening at 4:30pm all my fellow jurors are sworn in. Opening statements begin. Lo and behold the Defense attorney is a bit deaf and displays no emotions whatsoever, the court stenographer (I think that’s what they’re called) is a fairy, and our Judge appears to be uninterested.
*Sidebar – I in fact did later confirm that while she appeared to be on her computer taking notes, she was actually on the internet looking at the Drudge report. I shit you negative. She was the best multitasker I have ever seen though. Nary an objection went by that she did not sustain or overrule faster than Spitzer would jump in bed with a hooker.
Which leads me to another digression. My beloved Kristen appeared in all her splendid glory in the NY Post last week. What a shock it was for me to see she shared something in common with one of my fellow jurors. If you notice in this picture, Ashley has a single “x” tattoo on her hand. I had to do it. I had to ask Juror #9 what this symbol they both shared meant. Not having the cajones to do it before the last day, I waited patiently until the day I could find out what this Scooby Doo mystery meant. FF (Fast Forward) to the last day. I ask him. In his Spanish accented English, El hombre tells me that a long time ago people who were part of a group, which wanted to identify together with each other would get this “x” so they could all share something. I took this to mean it was a gang symbol. What the hell else does that mean? He also said that it didn’t mean anything anymore. I took that to mean he got kicked out of his gang! So does Spitzer’s hooker have a gang tattoo? Here’s an alternate theory which is slightly less plausible. The “x” tattoo is now oftentimes associated with the group known as “Straight Edged”. Those people who refrain from drugs and alcohol. Let’s see... does this sound like our innocent girl from Girls Gone Wild – Spring Break 2K3??? I think this proves Kristen aka Ashley was in a Mexican gang!
Wednesday we start at 9:45am. Well…actually we are told to be outside of our court room at 9:45am. We proceed to wait 90 minutes on our benches. As we quickly found out, in her court room, time loses all meaning. The judge would tell us we were taking a 10 minute break and then we would be called back into the courtroom two hours later. I seriously began to wonder who taught her how to read time. What alternate universe did I enter when I entered her domain? I felt like I was starring in an episode of the Twilight Zone.
The trail begins and unlike Law & Order it was BORING! Where’s the Tom Cruise & Jack Nicholson moment? When do I get to see a witness fly off the handle and attack someone? There was no yelling, no crying, and no fights. Just questions, more questions, and even more questions. You know it’s bad when the Prosecution and Defense repeat the same question 5 times in a row, and neither side Object! Hell, I wanted to object. “Objection your honor! Asked and Answered! 4 times!!!” It got to be so boring one of the jurors actually fell asleep. The defense alerts the judge. They huddle in a corner, looking at us, and then the Judge proceeds to call her out.
Judge: Ms. “X” (I forgot her name) are you in need of assistance?
Juror: (She wakes up, a bit groggy at first): “Huh?”
Judge: (Question is repeated)
Juror: Coffee would be nice.
Judge: Well I can’t give you any coffee. Do you need medical assistance or can we proceed?
Juror: (Pissed off and embarrassed): Sorry…
Jury duty is a lot like being in High School again.
I’m noticing how long this Blog is becoming, and I realize most of you won’t read this far. So end of Jury duty is this… we let him off on the more serious charge (I helped sway the jury on that). But, unfortunately we convict him of possession of a narcotic. It was really interesting to see how 12 people who don’t know each other or the person they are charged with finding guilty or innocent can do their task both impartially and fairly. Out of the whole experience, the actual deliberations reaffirmed my wavering faith in our legal system. I’m still trying to figure out how time can stop, or at least slow down, at 100 Centre St.
If anyone was wondering… I am nowhere near as fast as I used to be! After a touch football game last Saturday I was challenged to a 400 meter run. Feeling amped from our 60-18 loss, I decide to do it since I am sure I at least can win at this. Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha. 10 meters into the race, I pull up lame. I’m just not as young as I used to be. Both hamstrings are pulled… Getting old sucks!
I was committed to not being placed on a jury. I was also committed to not pissing off a judge who might see through my attempt at trying to not get picked on a jury. So I decided to be mostly truthful… Jury selection begins and of course it’s a drug trial with a black defendant. In my mind I’m thinking this is great. I’ll never get picked. I know too many lawyers, my friend’s Dad is a Sheriff, my Dad was a Marshall…the Defense will want me until they hear that. The Prosecution will of course like the fact that I know so many law abiding citizens, however I challenged him on one of his questions.
Prosecution: Does anyone here not think that it is always possible to figure out someone’s intent based on their actions and their surroundings?”
Salinas: I’m sorry I don’t think that’s possible at all. There is no way you can say you can understand someone’s intent all the time based on their actions and surroundings.
Judge: Mr. Salinas let me try and rephrase what I think the Prosecutor was trying to say. Do you think it is possible to sometimes interpret someone’s intent based on their actions and their surroundings?
Salinas (in my head): Damn!
Salinas (out loud): In that case your honor, I would have to say yes…sometimes, it is possible.
Salinas (in my head): She’s on to me.
With my tail between my legs, I hope that I did enough to warrant either the Prosecution or Defense using one of their dismissals on me. Obviously, since I’m not that lucky, when it was announced who amongst the 16 of us were picked to be on the jury…I was one of 4 picked. We were excused for the day while the judge continued to pick the jury. Fast forward to the next day. My day starts at 11:45am (yes 11:45am). For some reason our legal system really is as inefficient as you probably always thought. Jury selection continues, even though the Judge thought she would be done by noon. I spend the rest of the day on a bench outside the court room while they pick the rest of my lucky crew of 14 + 2 alternates. At least I’m earning money during this adventure. Going rate for sitting on a bench outside of a court room in NYC = $40.00. I think to myself, “This is better than getting paid nothing to watch CNBC at home.” Tuesday evening at 4:30pm all my fellow jurors are sworn in. Opening statements begin. Lo and behold the Defense attorney is a bit deaf and displays no emotions whatsoever, the court stenographer (I think that’s what they’re called) is a fairy, and our Judge appears to be uninterested.
*Sidebar – I in fact did later confirm that while she appeared to be on her computer taking notes, she was actually on the internet looking at the Drudge report. I shit you negative. She was the best multitasker I have ever seen though. Nary an objection went by that she did not sustain or overrule faster than Spitzer would jump in bed with a hooker.
Which leads me to another digression. My beloved Kristen appeared in all her splendid glory in the NY Post last week. What a shock it was for me to see she shared something in common with one of my fellow jurors. If you notice in this picture, Ashley has a single “x” tattoo on her hand. I had to do it. I had to ask Juror #9 what this symbol they both shared meant. Not having the cajones to do it before the last day, I waited patiently until the day I could find out what this Scooby Doo mystery meant. FF (Fast Forward) to the last day. I ask him. In his Spanish accented English, El hombre tells me that a long time ago people who were part of a group, which wanted to identify together with each other would get this “x” so they could all share something. I took this to mean it was a gang symbol. What the hell else does that mean? He also said that it didn’t mean anything anymore. I took that to mean he got kicked out of his gang! So does Spitzer’s hooker have a gang tattoo? Here’s an alternate theory which is slightly less plausible. The “x” tattoo is now oftentimes associated with the group known as “Straight Edged”. Those people who refrain from drugs and alcohol. Let’s see... does this sound like our innocent girl from Girls Gone Wild – Spring Break 2K3??? I think this proves Kristen aka Ashley was in a Mexican gang!
Wednesday we start at 9:45am. Well…actually we are told to be outside of our court room at 9:45am. We proceed to wait 90 minutes on our benches. As we quickly found out, in her court room, time loses all meaning. The judge would tell us we were taking a 10 minute break and then we would be called back into the courtroom two hours later. I seriously began to wonder who taught her how to read time. What alternate universe did I enter when I entered her domain? I felt like I was starring in an episode of the Twilight Zone.
The trail begins and unlike Law & Order it was BORING! Where’s the Tom Cruise & Jack Nicholson moment? When do I get to see a witness fly off the handle and attack someone? There was no yelling, no crying, and no fights. Just questions, more questions, and even more questions. You know it’s bad when the Prosecution and Defense repeat the same question 5 times in a row, and neither side Object! Hell, I wanted to object. “Objection your honor! Asked and Answered! 4 times!!!” It got to be so boring one of the jurors actually fell asleep. The defense alerts the judge. They huddle in a corner, looking at us, and then the Judge proceeds to call her out.
Judge: Ms. “X” (I forgot her name) are you in need of assistance?
Juror: (She wakes up, a bit groggy at first): “Huh?”
Judge: (Question is repeated)
Juror: Coffee would be nice.
Judge: Well I can’t give you any coffee. Do you need medical assistance or can we proceed?
Juror: (Pissed off and embarrassed): Sorry…
Jury duty is a lot like being in High School again.
I’m noticing how long this Blog is becoming, and I realize most of you won’t read this far. So end of Jury duty is this… we let him off on the more serious charge (I helped sway the jury on that). But, unfortunately we convict him of possession of a narcotic. It was really interesting to see how 12 people who don’t know each other or the person they are charged with finding guilty or innocent can do their task both impartially and fairly. Out of the whole experience, the actual deliberations reaffirmed my wavering faith in our legal system. I’m still trying to figure out how time can stop, or at least slow down, at 100 Centre St.
If anyone was wondering… I am nowhere near as fast as I used to be! After a touch football game last Saturday I was challenged to a 400 meter run. Feeling amped from our 60-18 loss, I decide to do it since I am sure I at least can win at this. Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha. 10 meters into the race, I pull up lame. I’m just not as young as I used to be. Both hamstrings are pulled… Getting old sucks!
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