Following up on my previous post about the murder trial: I'm still waiting for the jury to decide eight more charges, plus a bunch of enhancements, and they don't resume deliberations until Tuesday morning. They did, however, convict one defendant of robbery and burglary and some enhancements that mean he's already toast -- and they haven't even decided the murder charges yet. But the rest of it is still up in the air, and I'm left to wonder some more.
In other news, though, I found a white hair today. I'm in mourning.
I hate waiting. And when the wait for a jury verdict in a double murder case stretches into three days, that doesn't help matters. In two hours, I'll know whether my wait is over or whether I'll be left wondering all weekend.
Of course, the wait is much worse for the defendants. And the victims' families. But I wonder if the wait is even worse for the defendants' families. Victims' families won't really get closure in a court trial, and they'll still be left to deal with the fact that their loved ones were brutally slain. The defendants' family members, though, haven't yet gone through the idea of their loved ones being locked away in prison. In many cases, the arrests were a shock, and the subsequent trial was even more of a shock.
While a verdict has the biggest consequences for the defendants, they do have one advantage over everyone else: They know the truth. They know whether they are guilty of the charges against them.
Best quip in Gary Shandling's opening monologue at the 2004 Emmys: "We missed Osama bin Laden, but we got Martha Stewart."
Second-best quip from the same monologue: "If the conservatives want to stop the homosexuals from having sex, they should let them get married. That's what happened in my marriage."
Best question, posed by Shandling: "Don't you think it's odd that the Oscars broadcast can be nominated for an Emmy, but the Emmy's can't be?" (moments before the Oscar broadcast did win)
Obligatory Janet Jackson Super Bowl reference, by Shandling: "A five-second delay, by the way, is not long enough if I have a wardrobe malfunction."
Most ugly/revealing-boobs dress: Heather Locklear.
Second most ugly dress: Whoever was wearing that bright, striped dress.
Most frustrating awards: All the ones that went to cable shows I don't know, since I divorced my cable company more than a year ago
Best part of the evening: Brownies, fresh from my oven.
A little more than two months ago, I wrote about how a fatal traffic collision referenced on the California Highway Patrol's traffic Web site jarred me. It's happened again, but this time I'm even more stunned because I knew the girl who died and I traveled the section of road on which she died only a few days earlier.
Courtney Barton was about four years behind me in school, one grade ahead of my sister. Her cousin, with whom she lived, was a grade ahead of me. In an elementary school of 100 students between Kindergarten and eighth grade, the grade differences weren't as obvious. She came from a family where the mothers tended to get pregnant at a very young age, and many of them lived in a trailer with the grandmother. I don't mean to speak badly of the family, but that's just how it was.
According to that article, Courtney apparently managed to break out of the mold. Being president of an honor society, college class president and a firefighter is not something I would have equated with the family. Courtney was apparently doing well for herself. She even got a full-ride two-year scholarship to get her bachelor's degree, paid for by the same foundation that gave me my scholarship.
The accident that killed her was another one I saw on the CHP site. I'd just traveled that winding highway, so I knew exactly where she careened around a curve and went over the embankment. At the time, reports were coming in that the driver (Courtney) was speeding and driving recklessly -- something you just can't do on that part of the road. I don't know how fast she was driving, and I don't know what else was involved. One thing that strikes me, though, is that the firefighter and future nurse was wearing her seat belt.
When I got word of the arrest of a prominent city figure who's recently been in some of my news stories, it was when an editor told me that the man was in jail. I was standing in line waiting for a civil court record, and everyone turned to stare at me when I said aloud, "In jail?!" Apparently, my shock was obvious.
Being a reporter is a weird thing. You write stories, some of them compassionate and heart-felt. You interview people, get to know them a little bit and unintentionally size them up. Every once in a great while, one of those people gets arrested. You are left reeling and stunned.
And that's when it actually helps to be a reporter. You shove mental thoughts aside, except for the "innocent until proven guilty" one. You don't have to decide anything, and you're not supposed to. It's actually a relief.
**Note: I deleted the URL because it wasn't working. Look for the working one Wednesday morning on the front page of lodinews.com.**
Frivolous lawsuits brought about by stupid people continue to abound in this glorious country. Now, a 79-year-old alcoholic is saying the Americans with Disabilities Act is being violated because she doesn't have enough breath to blow into a breathalizer-type device before driving. Meanwhile, another guy is saying he was so busy blowing into the device that he crashed into a tree.
Excuse me, but why the hell are these people DRIVING in the first place? The breathless old woman would probably pass out due to lack of air after gasping when someone cut her off on the freeway. Plus, she's 79 and an alcoholic. I don't think people should be able to claim ADA discrimination on the grounds of stupidity.
As for the guy who crashed into a tree, he clearly has multi-tasking deficiencies to the point that he probably couldn't watch stoplights and press the brake pedal at the same time.
I am pleased to report that I not only went for more than three days without Internet access, but I also managed not to steal an Arcata police car and make it into their local police blotter. I'm sure that disappoints some of you.
Word of advice: Don't hint, in open court, that you're worried about passing a drug test. Yes, that's what a goofball did in court yesterday.
What I didn't include in that account was the part where the judge asked me, also in open court, which 'high-profile' case had brought me there. Then, after the judge heard what this guy did (got himself arrested for burglary two weeks in a row), the judge said he'd heard of the case and, with a glance at me, said he believed he'd also read about it in the paper.
I should ask the court reporter if the judge's part addressed to me is now in the case record. Of course, that wouldn't include the part where, when the judge took the bench and saw me, he paused, looked at the day's docket, then looked back at me with a quizzical glance. That's actually typical of him; it's as though he has fun trying to guess why I'm there.
Still waiting
Following up on my previous post about the murder trial: I'm still waiting for the jury to decide eight more charges, plus a bunch of enhancements, and they don't resume deliberations until Tuesday morning. They did, however, convict one defendant of robbery and burglary and some enhancements that mean he's already toast -- and they haven't even decided the murder charges yet. But the rest of it is still up in the air, and I'm left to wonder some more.In other news, though, I found a white hair today. I'm in mourning.
Posted by Layla at 7:00 PM, September 25, 2004. Comments (0)