Rednecks

I wanna start this out by saying that I can use the "R" word - I've lived in the south for 35 years. I'll never be a southerner, I wasn't born here, but my daughter was so that helps.

But I digress.

I can use the "R" word in much the same way that blacks can use the "N" word. We're fucking entitled - so there.

Anywaaaay....I've been pet/house sitting this week while my daughter and her husband are on vacation, and I've enjoyed every minute of it. As long as I stayed in the house. My baby girl lives just outside Atlanta and it's been in the high 90's every day this week with the heat indices over 100. BRU-tal.

Needless to say, I have not ventured out too often or for too long a period of time. No washing the truck or playing catch with the dog. Mostly sitting inside reading, playing on the computer or watching TV.

I'm normally not much of a daytime TV person - sometimes one of the Judge shows - but that's about it. Well, I got me an edjucashun this week, and I've made a very serious discovery.

I'm gonna share it with you now so get ready - fasten your seatbelts - batten down the hatches.

If it wasn't for rednecks and trailer trash we wouldn't have all those "redneck engineering" emails; the "people of WalMart" pictures wouldn't exist; Maury Pouvich and Jerry Springer would be out of work.

End of the day's enlightenment, grasshopper.

Later,

obi

Remember me?

Damn….it’s been almost a year since I posted anything. Time flies….I guess.

In the “what’s new” department I’m still not smoking – it’s been 23 months! And

my youngest son (middle child) completed the family trifecta and got married in June in Durango, CO. My daughter (his half-sister) attended and sent me photos. My ex-wife (his mother) sent photos. My ex-sister-in-law (his aunt) sent me photos. His brother (my oldest child) sent me photos. Even though I wasn’t invited (discouraged from attending, in fact) the photographs almost made me feel like I was there. I assumed that my ex-wife had influenced the non-invite and negative response when I asked my son if I would be welcome. Once again, I was wrong. My ex asked my daughter why I wasn’t there. I have since corresponded with her (the first time in about 25 years) and found out that she was never asked her opinion on the subject - it was my son’s decision. That hurt a lot more than if she had influenced the final outcome.

Enough of this semi-negative shit! Let’s get on with the fun stuff.

I received a letter last month inviting me to serve as a jury-person on July 7^th in the year of our Lord, 2010. Of coursed I accepted the invitation and asked if I could bring any snacks. “Don’t be a wise ass,” I was told. “Just be here at 9 am, sit down and shut the fuck up!”

I arrived at the county courthouse at 8:15, having over-compensated for the traffic into our megalopolis. Coffee and water were provided, and a soda machine was available on-premise. My stomach, however, was alerting my brain that it thought my throat had been cut since no solid food had yet been forthcoming. Coffee apparently was not going to suffice.

Once all the prospective jurors had arrived, we were shown a short film outlining how the court system functioned and what would be required of us should we be selected for a jury. Then we waited.

I read for a while, then started scanning my fellow jurors.

The guy sitting in front of me, one chair over to the left, had to be an off-duty cop…I hope. When he crossed his legs and his pants cuff rode up a little, I could definitely see an ankle holster. That meant he was either a cop or one of those really, REALLY upset family members who kill the trial’s defendant because they had messed with the juror’s daughter. I was getting ready to report him to the court clerk when I saw he was reading a “cop” magazine on guns, ammo and taking prisoners safely.

Directly in front of me was a thirty-something male of East Indian heritage. Dark hair, dark skin, a nice gray suit and…….a page-boy looking collar on backwards and held together by a large, gold stick-pin. I was trying to figure out if maybe the whole collar arrangement was actually holding his head on when he turned around. I assume he was some sort of priest because he was wearing a sort of silk shirt with no real collar, just the white thing I had seen before.

Alan Harper from “2 ½ Men” was there too. Actually he was just “super” prepared for a lengthy stay. He had his laptop, earphones, cell phone and his lunch (in TupperWare containers.) A plaid, short-sleeved and button-down shirt completed the “Alan” look.

We also had a flagrant dyke (they seem to be in fashion here), multiple retirees (we have the time), one man who had a perpetual smile on his face (I’m assuming it was simply a nerd smile and not a plastic surgery error), and one guy who Judge Judy would have had a field-day with.

I was concerned about wearing jeans to court, so I wore chinos. This “dude” had on cut-off jean shorts, flip-flops and a gray T-shirt with the sleeves cut off. Judy would have reamed him a new asshole right before she cited him for contempt.

At about 11:30, the clerk turned off the flat-screen 40+ inch HDTV, and informed us that the civil trial that we were supposed to hear had been settled without our assistance and the only other trial on the day’s docket was a non-jury affair. We were free to go…see you in a minimum of two years.

I feel like I accomplished something…my civic duty has been done. Even though I didn’t do anything but read and people watch. Good deal!

Later,

obi