Surviving Jury Duty

My entire life I'd avoided it. I'd heard the horror stories from other people and felt lucky for my salvation. Then one afternoon, all my hopes of having a good day evaporated with the sight of a dreaded envelope. That envelope contained my first, official jury summons. If there's anything worse than the DMV, it's jury duty-especially in Los Angeles.

Jury Duty is like giving birth--no one likes to talk about it, but most people are elated when it's over. Sure, like any other unlucky moron, I tried to get out of it, but the system ensures that the consequences far outweigh the momentary glee of circumventing the powers that be.

Weeks later, posing as a good citizen, albeit an extremely disgruntled one, I reported to the county courthouse in downtown Los Angeles. For the next eight hours, I tried to keep myself entertained, hoping against hope that I would escape getting placed onto a jury panel. The overly crowded room reminded me of the airport, only none of us would get to travel anywhere. If we were lucky, we'd get the clearance to travel home.

I surveyed my surroundings: framed photos of Harrison Ford, Camryn Manheim, and Jamie Lee Curtis hung on the wall, along with a caption that said: "They served. Have you?" Was that supposed to make me feel better about being here?

A sign at the front of the room said, "Please consider donating your jury fees to worthwhile court projects." I read through my paperwork to learn that my jury fees would amount to $15.00 per day with the exemption of the first reporting day in which I would be paid nothing.

I could feel my brain cells dying, one-by-one. Midway through the day, they called a collection of names. I wasn't called; I breathed a sigh of relief. Each of the chosen people lined up in front of the room. I felt sorry for them until I saw that they were being given a green piece of paper that essentially stated that they'd completed their jury service. They were getting a free pass home! I bit my lip and looked at them with pure, solid envy. At that moment, I would have paid any one of them $100.00 for that green slip. The waiting, the cramped quarters, the horrible fluorescent lighting, and the knowledge of knowing that I was still in the deep end of the jury pool...It was all too much to bear.

I've never understood why we insist of having such an archaic system of jury selection. It's like overbooking the plane to hell just to make sure you've got enough passengers for a destination that very few people want to visit. That day, I decided that a worthwhile court project would be to figure out a new system to find jurors. I'd put my measly court fees toward that. In fact, I felt so strongly about it that I picked up a suggestion card from the Superior Court and proceeded to fill it out.

I'm sure there are some people that become excited about the prospect of being a juror. They find it enticing and invigorating and they love the idea of being a part of the court process. I am not one of those people, but I know they exist. I know because my father is one of them. In all fairness, I think these people should be offered the job first. Why should they have to wait for the court system to weed through all the disgruntled potential jurors of our times when they really want the job? That could take years! Will they have to resort to juroring vicariously by viewing re-re-runs of Law & Order and Judge Judy? Let's give these select few their chance.

As for the rest of the prime juror spots, who would be a better judge (and deterrent) than current criminals and their petty crime counterparts? This way, courts could utilize that untapped resources of our nation's incarcerated and reinvigorate their community involvement. Prisoners would gain a sense of collective pride by participating in the flip side of the court system that convicted them.

This could save the U.S. Government loads of money. In lieu of payment jurors would get community service credit that could be applied toward their prison sentences. In fact, nothing would be more entertaining than watching criminals judge their own. Talk about a ratings boom --This could be the next big reality show! In fact, the court system could actually make money through advertising and promotions. We're missing a bet here.

As there is an amazing interest among the general public to watch crime shows, dramas, and court TV-this is an entertaining, yet wholly pragmatic and innovative concept for the courts to consider. Of course, they won't consider it because they want to at least appear as though they are giving people a right to a fair trial. However, we all know that truly fair trials do not really exist, even in the best of all circumstances. Either way, a person will be judged, but who are we to judge who the best jurors are? Perhaps our trusty government is missing out.