Dr Pepper Spray
I was called for jury duty this week. It’s an empowering experience. The phrase “being called to serve” kept swirling through my mind. This is how democracy works. We, as citizens, are called to settle disputes. Drawing from what we have learned from our own experiences, we are asked to bear witness to testimony and determine the truth. The founders of the constitution made this concept, the right to be judged by an impartial jury, part of the Sixth Amendment.
If you’ve never been “called to serve” then you might be interested to know that there’s a vetting process for jurors. Of the 40 odd people called on Monday, 18 names were randomly drawn to actually serve. After, of course, these 18 were questioned by the judges and attorneys to verify that none of them might be holding anything in their minds or hearts that could steer them from making a fair and unbiased decision during the trial.
While interrogating the 18 jurors selected for this case, the question came up, “Has anyone had any experience with pepper spray?” A couple of gentlemen raised their hands. One had been in the Navy and one had been in the Army Reserve. Both went through a “gas tent” as part of their training and were exposed to pepper spray. Then another man sheepishly raised his hand. “I sprayed myself, once, to see what it was like.” Some chuckles from the gallery. “Thank you for your candor,” said the judge. Next question, “Has anyone had any experience with a tazer?” No hands. Then the same guy piped up, “One weekend me and my buddies got some tazers and tazed each other to see what it was like.” This time the gallery exploded with laughter.
This brainiac made it to the final jury selection. Being impartial to the outcome of this case, I can only say that I hope that this Phd of moronic studies (let’s call him Dr Pepper-Spray) doesn’t totally screw up someone’s life this week.
That said, I must admit to some shocking news about myself. Once I placed my dog Lucky’s shock collar around my neck to see “what it was like.” I wanted to know what sweet Lucky would feel. I had an altruistic motive. Not the smartest move. No. But I felt that if I was going to submit my pup to a shock collar then maybe I should know what kind of shock the collar was administering.
How’d it go? First I held the collar to my throat and made an “ahh” sound. Not too loud. Aaaaand… nothing. Then I said “Ahh” a little louder. Still nothing. Then I yelled “AHHH!”
The shock dropped me to my knees. It was like getting clotheslined by a cattle fence.
It appears “I’m a Pepper too.”