jeanie, 10pm on her cell, gazing into my window "I'm outside,... how about a glass of wine?"
me, "I guess I could get my pants back on and open a bottle"
jeanie "the pants part is unnecessary"
September 21, 2007
a little ditty about papa wop
Soooo, my dear father, who is losing his hearing (which feels a bit like watching Beethoven go deaf), was summoned for jury duty. There was no way to get beyond the automated system to confirm attendance to, indeed, ask for exclusion based on a physical handicap, so off he went to the courthouse. Mother drove, she would want you to know that. He gets there and explains to the less than brilliantly lit bulb that was the reception clerk that he is hearing impaired. She hands him HALF of devise meant for such occassions. He accepts, still completely unsure of how half a devise will help him hear whether or not Bubba killed his wife with premediation or not.
NOW, as is my father's usual way of business, he becomes fast friends with the person, in this case potential juror, waiting next to him. My father is very engaging and likes to talk and so they get to know each other pretty well. He responds as well as he can and really does want to hear what you are saying. It is very sweet. They are finally, four hours later (mother would want you to know this as well, as she was waiting) filed before the judge for instruction. A some point, the judge says, "and who is it who has hearing difficulties". No one comes forward. He continues a bit confused, and a minute later, reiterates his inquires. THREE inquiries later, a light bulb goes off in the brain of the lovely person next to my Dad, who gives him a little nudge and says, "HEY, I think they might mean you". My father stands and says "yes?" (which is a typical response from my Dad, even when not addressed, he's just covering his bases). The judge asks him "sir, are you the potential juror the clerk tells me has difficulties hearing?"
to which my father responds:
"What?"
NOW, as is my father's usual way of business, he becomes fast friends with the person, in this case potential juror, waiting next to him. My father is very engaging and likes to talk and so they get to know each other pretty well. He responds as well as he can and really does want to hear what you are saying. It is very sweet. They are finally, four hours later (mother would want you to know this as well, as she was waiting) filed before the judge for instruction. A some point, the judge says, "and who is it who has hearing difficulties". No one comes forward. He continues a bit confused, and a minute later, reiterates his inquires. THREE inquiries later, a light bulb goes off in the brain of the lovely person next to my Dad, who gives him a little nudge and says, "HEY, I think they might mean you". My father stands and says "yes?" (which is a typical response from my Dad, even when not addressed, he's just covering his bases). The judge asks him "sir, are you the potential juror the clerk tells me has difficulties hearing?"
to which my father responds:
"What?"
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