Jury duty… our civic duty. Something that each of us are supposed to do at least one time in our life. Maybe you’ve been called for it, maybe you’ve done it… maybe you’ve done it more than once?

Well, I’m only 36 and I’ve been called four times now. It’s getting old being a whiner. Is that what I sound like? I know my obligation to this country is still lingering over my head since I’ve talked my way out of it each of the previous times. But, for good reason, in my opinion. Everyone knows I’m P.O.A. for my dad and if I’m not running across country to and from work, or busting late hours at the office, I’m trying to get a second to be a dad, and a decent husband.

Apparently my letters of woe have been taken seriously, because they just throw my name back into the hat to be called again… and the cycle repeats.

They tell you to bring a book, there will lots of waiting, and you will likely be presiding over something intensely wild, like traffic or seat belt offenders. It pains me to think that I could spend a week, or 3 days, or even a day of my life for $10 bucks an hour and worse, more time that I don’t have to spare. Kids need fed, bills need paid and ailing dad needs assistance, family wants attention, feeling guilty not being there. Life is cruel sometimes. But, maybe these are the tests that if we pass, we’re really are a man worthy of God’s countenance upon us.

I think our system is broken, in many ways, but I’ll keep it to one thought. If you can afford a lawyer dream team, it all comes down to knowing the granules of the law and having a set of people who want to save your ass, i.e. money. The jurors in there typically don’t know the law enough, myself included I’ll admit, to possibly offer any intelligence on evidence evaluation, proper ethics associated with the field, the list goes on. Others, arguably couldn’t pass a 5th grade civics test. But, most of us with a shred of brain, feel that an offender who beats an officer’s head in, or a son that wipes out his family, should be put away for a long time. Again, enter the dream team.

I know it sounds like I’m making excuses, but… I *really* am not interested. Ashamed, maybe a little.