Sunday, December 20, 2015

Justice Isn't the Only One Who's Blind

Alas, my jury duty term is drawing to a close on December 31st. But don't you worry about Val! She's going out in a blaze of glory, having been selected to appear on December 29th! What are the odds, I ask you. What are the odds?

Hick does not seem to have confidence in Val's skills of deliberation. Too bad he's not the public defender, nor the prosecutor. Then I would never have to worry about being chosen. Even when my number is two, and number one doesn't show up. I found this out in a roundabout way yesterday, when Hick was driving T-Hoe to go look at new cars.

"Whoa! Look out!"

"What? I'm fine."

"You were headed toward the bridge railing. We were about to hit it! Can you just pay attention to driving and watch the road? Is that too much to ask?"

"I was trying to turn on my seat heater. Just the back. But it's all on, and the butt part is too hot. I need to know how to only put on the back."

"Good luck with that. The back heater barely works on the driver's side. This one works great. But you'll have to hit the button three times to turn that off. Then only hit the top part to turn on the back."

"See? Was that so hard?"

"STOP! You're sweaving again. You put double mileage on the cars, the way you drive."

"I'm trying to adjust my mirror. It's off."

"The Pony was driving. He set it for himself. Can you just pay attention to the road?"

"Val. I have been driving for 45 years. I've only had two accidents, and one was when I ran off that culvert bridge because I went to sleep. The other was when Johnny Johnson and I got in that wreck, and that's because a car's lights were in my eyes, and that car was coming at me. There was no avoiding it."

"Well, I wasn't in your car then. And I am now. So you need to be more careful."

"You're just too nervous. My driving is fine."

"So the time you ran over that old lady was on purpose? Because you said you've only had two car accidents."

"Oh. The old lady. Well, I guess it was three. But they weren't my fault."

"Why can't you ever take responsibility? I guess it was that old lady's fault you ran over her."

"Yes. She said she didn't see me. Admitted it right there in court."

"Still. YOU ran over HER. She didn't jump under the city truck. She was an old lady. You probably sweaved out of nowhere after she looked both ways."

"I didn't see her. That's what I told them. Then that prosecutor got all smart-alecky with me. I told him I'm blind in my left eye. So he says, 'Cover your left eye with your hand, and turn your head, and tell me how far you can see.' And I told him, 'YOU cover YOUR eye with your hand, and turn YOUR head, and you'll KNOW how far I can see.' The jury got a laugh out of that."

"Yet they convicted you."

"They awarded damages, Val. It's not like I left the scene. I'm the one who got out to help that old lady. I held her hand until Jimmy came out of the parts store and sat down with her, then I called 911."

"Was she still under the truck?"

"Yes, Val, she was under the truck."

"Was the truck ON her?"

"Her leg was beside the tire."

"Did you actually RUN OVER her leg?"

"I don't think so. Her leg wasn't broken. It was her wrist. I think she broke it while she was falling. But yes, she was sitting with her legs under the truck, beside the tire, while I held her hand."

"The hand of the wrist she BROKE?"

"I don't know, Val! I don't remember which wrist she broke. But she should have settled out of court, because the jury didn't give her as much money as the settlement would have."

"There you go, blaming the victim. She SHOULD have been compensated. You RAN OVER her!"

"But I didn't see her."


"I'm not surprised they never choose you for a jury. You would believe whatever you hear. You hear it once, and you think it's the truth. Not like me. I remember when I was on the grand jury, and they told us the guy threw a gun out of the window of the car while they were chasing him. How did they know it was a gun? Could they see it? They might have known if it was a rifle. But if somebody in the car up there threw a pistol out the window, could you tell it was a gun? No. And there were no fingerprints on this gun, and it was found at a corner where EVERYONE in that community throws out their guns. So was I convinced that the guy threw out a gun? No. I had reasonable doubt. But you would say he threw it out."

"What else would he be throwing out the window when the police are chasing him after a murder? I don't think he'd be littering at a time like that. That would only draw attention to him. Even more than speeding to get away from the police."

"See? You automatically think he's guilty. But they didn't prove to me that the gun belonged to him. I wish they would call ME for jury duty again."

"Me too."

Perhaps Hick will get his wish after he retires. That would be the best scenario ever.


  1. Wow, I would have been called a Jerk way before you got to the old lady accident.

    1. Blogging is a wonderful release. It allows my thoughts to flow out my fingers, and my mouth to exhibit great restraint.

  2. Sweaved out of nowhere? Are you creating a new word here, as I'm not familiar with sweave?

    1. Originally, it WAS new. I have used it often in terms of Hick's driving style. He's a Master Sweaver. A combination of swerving and weaving.

      One minute you're tooling along like a little old lady from Pasadena, and the next minute your head is nearly separated from your neck as Hick resumes his attention to the road after witnessing something shiny in a falling-down barn off the beaten path.

      OR you start grapevine-stepping with your tires as Hick travels from one sideline to the center line like a prize Border Collie weaving in and out of bendy poles at an agility trial, due to glancing to and fro, and over-correcting as his attention wanders.

  3. I don't want Hick to be called for jury duty once he's retired, because that would take away from your togetherness time...

    1. I am willing to sacrifice my alone time with Hick so that justice may be served in Backroads. Because I'm selfless like that.

    2. This makes me think you're a wonderful person, Val!! You are, aren't you?

    3. Yes, always sacrificing my own needs for the greater good of society.

      In fact, my best old ex-teaching buddy Mabel's mom once referred to me as a regular Mother Teresa. Let the record show that even though we never met, she could sense the true nature of Val...