Oyez Oyez Oyez

I'm not a bit believer in the idea of the "jinx" in any of its forms. I don't think any sports teams are cursed because of any kind of interaction with a live animal or because anyone appeared on a cover of a thing. Just in thinking about it, I'm surprised at the way "jinx" means a lot of different things, all of which are stupid. I mean, we say something at the same time and now I'm not allowed to talk until I get your permission, or worse, I get physically assaulted? I'm convinced every dominatrix idea is somehow code-implanted in one of these kids games.

Last week I got myself an official jury summons, one very much like all the other ones I've received in the past almost 25 or so years since I've been a registered voter and licensed driver, none of which to this point have resulted in me having to inconvenience myself in any way with an appearance at a courthouse. Of course it helped that over a good chunk of those years I was either a full-time student or a full-time stay-at-home parent; generally the type of person not required to serve, or at least I assume. It was a handy overlap that in that exact same period I was also the type of person who might... uh... misplace... his jury summons. I'm pretty sure the statute of limitations has run out on that particular slow-motion crime spree, so yes, that used to be me.

Now I have at least one child who has both a driver's license and a voter registration card, so I guess it's become more and more incumbent upon me to set a proper example by doing my bit when called upon. I've officially outgrown the draft, so I can now confidently say that if drafted, I totally would have served and not run away to Canada. And since there's no way you can prove otherwise, we're just going to move on.

My primary opportunity to display my civic and patriotic steadfastness is in jury service. I'm not equating it in any way with military service, but if not getting gonorrhea can be Donald Trump's personal version of Vietnam, on the metaphor scale, this is at least a Grenada.

Honestly, I didn't think much of it when the envelope came, but given the potential inconvenience, I did take it upon myself to--just in case!--tell everyone who might be put out by any potential absence not to worry, I'd gotten them in the past, I'll call in for a few days and I'll never even have to go in, NBD.*

I used to think that, if I tried hard enough, I could move things with my mind. Not like the Force because that would be presumptuous. I mean, telekinesis and a whole concomitant array of weirdly unrelated powers like hypno-suggestion, fancy jumping and lizard-like limb rejection in the face of danger? That would be both stupid and greedy. No, just regular old moving things with my mind. Yes, it sounds silly, but stare at something long enough. Go ahead, try it. At some point you'll feel so connected to it that it will seem less likely that you can't move it with your thoughts. And then there's the point at which you begin to resent it for not responding to you at all and now you've probably accounted for like 30 minutes of your next talk-therapy session breaking down why your hairbrush doesn't like you.

At some point, you turn 14** and you forget about childish ideas like brain powers and magic and the ability to "jinx" something just because you said it out loud.

AND YET SOMEHOW I ended up at the county courthouse just the second day I was eligible to report. And then somehow I got dragged into the assigned pool for a civil case. And then, just as I was about to get out as the subset of my pool was set as a jury, too many were eliminated as alternates, which meant just four more had to be interviewed, one of whom included Your Beloved Author. So now I'm sitting for four weeks at least(!) on a case regarding some kind of contract thing or another (they say if I talk about specifics, I will be shot. Well, not "say" but a man with a gun was in the room when it was said, so you figure out the implication), at the end of which I will not even be allowed to cast a vote on the final outcome. Because alternate.

I am reassessing the eldritchness of my power. Which I will have plenty of time to do now that I have been temporarily imprisoned by our justice system. Honestly it's probably better I don't have a say in the case. I'd hate for this to be the way I find out I actually DO have mind-control brain powers as well.

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*I'm not sure what this means. My kids use it. I hope it's not "Nice Body, Dad."

**Or 38, whatever