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Tuesday - May 13, 2003

Jury Day

It’s 12: 20 and I’m sitting in the jurors lounge for the San Diego District Court.  Jury duty is stressful for me as I’m naturally uncomfortable in public situations.  In college, when I would go to a party, I was the type who would hide behind the artificial houseplant and watch the avocado dip turn black.  I’m not much at mingling and I’m poor at making conversation. 

I’m on call for the month of May and my initial duties are to call in every evening to listen to a pre-recorded message which tells me if I have to report the next day.  Last night I got the word that I needed to be here at 8 this morning.  We have 52 people here who are  available for today’s trials and we sit in the jury lounge waiting for our names to be called.  We then go upstairs to one of the courtrooms where we go through the selection process.  Most people have gone through this process at one time or another in their lives and in the last 25 years I’ve been called about 4 times.

As I said earlier, it’s not my favorite thing to do though I’ve never been inconvenienced enough to try to find a way out.   I’ve found it interesting to note that many people I know have never been called at all.  I even know one person who just ignored his jury summons and has never been called again. Whatever.  I’m not much at moralizing but at the end of the day I like to be able to say that I tried to do what was right.  I guess that means going to jury duty without sniveling too much.  OK, I’m sniveling now but not too much.

Our soon to be replaced leaking water tank

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THEN

March 23, 1967 - Thursday

I spent all day today laying in the sun and cutting grass.  Tomorrow I have a lawn job. (big deal)

I’m trying to go the whole vacation without shaving and though I don’t have much of a beard, it’s coming along.  People are going to start thinking I live like a pig.

Last Friday Sheila called from Ohio and said she’s going to have a baby next November.  It’s hard to get used to the idea that my sister is having a baby and I’ll be an uncle.  I don’t think of myself as the uncle type.  I’ve been going around the house calling Mother Grandma but it doesn’t bother her. I’m tempted to call father “gramps” but I haven’t got the nerve.  He’s kind of sensitive about that sort of thing.

A few days ago some new people moved in two houses down.  My wishes have finally been fulfilled.  They have a teenage daughter and from what I can see, she’s about my age. (I’m still not certain)

I first saw her standing by their car but I wasn’t sure how old she was or even if she lived there.  Early tonight I decided to find out so I had to rely on the spy training techniques I’ve learned from TV.  I got an old pair of opera binoculars, a good jacket for camouflage and I climbed our tree in the front yard.  From there I was able to see directly into their kitchen window.  The kitchen was empty a while but soon she and her mother came in to wash the dishes. From what I can tell now, she has long brown hair; she’s about my age though I’m not good at guessing ages so I could be wrong.  She’s not bad looking but I can’t be certain of that either.  She has two older brothers (I think) and an older sister.  One of the brothers might be the father. (Binoculars aren’t too hot) Her older sister is very good looking and is about Barry’s age.

Being a shy person I’ve had some phobias as to getting to know her.  I’ve thought of all sorts of schemes but I don’t have the nerve to carry them out.