Scoplaw

Bikes and Parties

Well, much was done this weekend. 

The weekend began with the EJW Fair – a truly fun event with tons of employers.  I ended up speaking with a few potentials employers and stopped in to say hello to my prior summer employer, the PD's Office.  I found out that one of the cases I had worked on this summer was still going on, after a mistrial and not one but two nolle proses.  Our guy’s witnesses had to come in 9 times, all told; the non-mistrial/non-nolle pros dates were all extensions due to the prosecution not having its case ready to go.  Outrageous.  When they couldn’t get their initial charge to stick they tried other charges.  When that didn’t seem to work (their non-police witnesses have all disappeared), they got the INS involved.  If anyone would like to spend a summer working within an easy non-car commute to DC, please contact me and I’ll be happy to respond to any questions you might have.  I really can’t say enough about the program; good people and good work, work that is not only good to do (in the sense that you feel good about it and it gives you something), but work that *is in itself important*.  This is a place where you can make a tangible difference in someone's life. 

**

The Bike arrived on Friday.  She came in her box, partially assembled, as advertised. 

For those who are curious, I ordered through bikesdirect.com and am very pleased with what I got.


   

Here are the specs (the website for Bikesdirect is obnoxious, car-salesman-ish):

Frame: High Modulus CarbonFiber Mono-SeatStay, Kinesis Handmade Double-Butted 7005 Aluminum Main Frame with replaceable derailleur hanger and double water bottle brazeons.
Fork: Aero Kinesis Pro Carbon Fiber
Headset: Threadless Cane Creek Aheadset 1.125 inch Sealed Bearing

Derailleurs: Ultegra 6600 30SPD front and rear
Shifters: Ultegra 6610 30SPD STI
Crank: Ultegra 6600 30SPD 52/39/30T with integrated spindle and Ultegra Bottom bracket
Cassette: Ultegra 6600 30SPD 11-23 T
Chain: Ultegra CN-6600 10SPD

Brakes Ultegra BR6601
Hubs: Ritchey Comp OCR Sealed Bearing
Rims: Black Anodized Ritchey PRO DS OCR Technology, 20 Spoke front/24 Spoke rear, Machined Sidewalls
Tires: Kenda Kaliente IronCloak Kevlar bead 700X23c 189g

Saddle: M-Wings Systeme Racing V-cut
Seatpost: Ritchey Comp Road 27.2x300mm blk
Handlebars: Ritchey BIOMAX II

Final total weight is 19lbs.  (Hush weighted in at 26lbs.)

Basically, the above means I got a pretty good deal.  The groupset is 2005 Shimano Ultegra, 10 gears, triple ring.  Were I to buy that directly from a retailer, I’d pay pretty much what I paid for the whole bike. 

Now, that whole bike is definitely a mass produced bike out of Taiwan, with the stickers thrown on a generic frame, and a pretty decent wheelset/stem/handlebars in the Ritchey group.  However, the frame rides pretty sweetly as far as I’m concerned – she’s more comfortable than the older generation of steel bikes, but you can still feel the road very well through the muting action of the carbon stays and fork. It seems well designed and the welds are precise and full.  (The geometry is most likely a knock-off of another bike, perhaps a Fuji.)  As an overall ride, she certainly an improvement over Hush, also an improvement over the aluminum bikes I’ve ridden in the past.  I’d say she rides better than most of the bikes I’ve tested – smoother on the straight-aways and sharper and more stable on the corners.  After some seat adjustments, her riding (not frame) geometry is identical (within a centimeter) to Hush. 

The groupset is very very nice – fast, smooth, reliable shifting.  I can easily accelerate up hills in the optimal gear thanks to the flightdeck shifters, instead of the downtube shifters.  I’ve had some trouble with my computer on the new bike (I think the cord was weak and broke when I put it on the new bike), so I’m not sure how my timing will be on longer rides.  I have to guess it will be improved though.

As far as assembly went, I had to put on the wheels, insert the seat post, clamp the stem onto the threadless headset, clamp the handlebars into the stem, thread the front brake wire into the front break and adjust that and all the break pads.  Hmm.  Oh – I also had to put the complimentary pedals on and put new cleats on my cycling shoes.  One of the breaking cables had become misrouted on the top of the handlebar, so I had to unwrap and rewrap the handlebar tape in order to align it property.  (There was an extra set of tape that came with the bike.)  The saddle was a mass produced bargain basement saddle, so I put on my Specialized saddle (deeper groove means happier bloodflow).

The next thing I did (after I sized her and made sure I was going to keep her) was remove all the advertising stickers – I hate the fad of making bikes look like NASCAR cars.  A bicycle is a beautiful thing - all the more so when it's simple and functional looking.  (If I put any kind of decoration on her, I'm surely not going to advertise a company - in fact, if I'm going to carry optional advertising, I'd damn well better be paid for it.)

All in all, pending a few months/years of riding, I’d recommend the company to anyone who can handle a hexkey. 

**
We also had a bitchin Halloween party featuring many of my fav. law school peeps.  Alas, there is sickness among us and several notables stayed home to produce mucus.  All the same, it was a very good time. 

Somewhere in there were some test rides, a trips to the grocery store, a visit from the Compost Turner, a clearing of the Garden (dead stuff out – new space for a fall planting, if there’s any room left after our monster marigolds), fixing a few things about the house, the beginning of winterizing the house, cleaning, drinking wine, a breakfast brunch at the house, a free motorcycle (declined), reading a novel, and, of course, law, law law. 

Public Defender Post Mortem

Well, I’m now done with my 1L summer at a nearby Public Defender’s office, which was one of the more enjoyable and educational summers that I’ve spent. 

If anyone (1L or 2L) has an interest in criminal law and is curious about the PD’s office, I strongly urge you to consider this program.  I have *no* problem stating my mind, and were I less than fully satisfied by the program I’d certainly tell you.  You can reach me via scoplaw@yahoo.com if you have any questions.   I'm sure that AI can also help you out somewhat - as he spent two (count 'em) two, summers in the program.  I highly recommend his posts on the 2L summer, in particular his experience representing clients.

My experiences at the PDs office largely came out of the docket my attorney worked in – other interns spent more time researching fewer cases, so don’t think this one account is standard for either this office, or for PD offices in general.

Now as to the nuts and bolts:

Finances:

The internship (like most public interest internships) does not pay and was only possible though an Equal Justice Foundation grant.  I had almost no money in the bank at the end of the semester, but the EJF grant gave me enough to scrape by for the summer and put a deposit on a place for next year.  I saved considerable money through bicycle commuting for the majority of the summer, which enabled me to eat out often. 

Three major things to keep in mind regarding EJF grants:
1) Make sure that you’re being taxed in the lowest bracket you can be in.  A number of us had a Huge amount withdrawn from our single check.  We’ll get it back come return time, but cash in hand is always nicer when you’re living at the margin. 
2) At GULC, PD interns (no matter where) almost *always* get EJF funding, so don’t be shy about looking into the PD office as a possible 1L internship.  You don’t find out about the EJF grant until after you have the internship in hand (the PD gives you a letter so that you’ll be eligible for the grant), which can cause some stress.
3) However, a number of us decided to kick $50 into a common fund (and work on various fund raisers) for our fellow section-mates who did not receive EJF funding (all the PD interns did, as far as I know) for other non-profit internships.  While we couldn’t fund everyone, we did manage to make some people’s summers a bit easier.  It was a good thing to do and if you’ve the inclination to do something of the sort, please do so – don’t wait for an official committee from the school, just do it yourselves.  Enough with the defensive LS competitiveness bullshit.

The People: 

I’ve seldom left an employer feeling so impressed on every level.  As a poet, I’ve contented myself with taking whatever interesting “day-job” presented itself, while spending the majority of my time and mental energy studying poetics and simply writing.  Often (until my health failed) I was able to take short term positions which paid well but had no real benefits to speak of.  Over the years I’ve worked for local and Federal Govt., private financial institutions, retail, colleges, as an independent designer, for non-profits, as a librarian, and doing various kinds of menial labor.  None of them ever came close to exhibiting the warmth and humanity of the PD’s office, both for their clients and for their interns. 

During this summer I was stranded up in Cape Cod (there are worse places to be stranded) when my car died.  I missed several days.  Then, recently, my grandmother died, and I also missed the better part of a week.  In other places there might have been some kind of pro forma “Hey, it’s not a problem” speech, which would only mask an actual resentment of some kind.   Yet at the PDs I honestly feel that neither of these situations caused any problems for me at the office; however I did feel a bit guilty that I wasn’t prepared to do the closing mock trial argument (hadn’t glanced at the damn material in 2 weeks).  More on that below. 

My Attorney: 

Each intern was assigned to an attorney.  I’ve seldom worked for a cooler guy.  In an amusing twist, he was actually younger than I am.  I’m afraid I must dub him The Cobra but I do so affectionately. 

I’ve been lucky in that I’ve known some wonderful attorneys whom I can emulate in certain ways.  I look to them for pointers on bearing, conduct, their interactions within the social world of law.  Granted I’m a persnickety asshole, so those pointers only go so far.  One of those attorneys is The Third Son, blogging as Seth Abramson (link on right).  Seth is a young trial lawyer who has always impressed me with is erudition, intelligence, and ability to make fine moral distinctions over issues that genuinely *matter* to him.  (Seth’s a splendid poet as well, but that’s beside the point.) 

I can easily add both the Public Defender herself (an amazing woman – you just want to stand up and cheer whenever she speaks), and The Cobra to that short list of wonderful attorneys.  The Cobra has displayed remarkable loyalty and patience with some of the most difficult and obstinate clients I’ve seen.  He’s able to state the issues to them clearly and concisely, and appraise their chances for them.   I’ve never seen him talk down to or confuse a client and he has a remarkable ability to focus his clients, to get them to pay attention to the salient legal issues.  As an attorney he’s tenacious, meticulous, and can think on his feet with the best of them.  I remember he had one client who didn’t confer or contact The Cobra until the morning of his court date, at which time he insisted on going to trial.  The Cobra didn’t even blink.  The Cobra gathered what information he could in about 90 seconds, appraised his chances, was called for that client about 3 min afterward, presented his case, and won. 

We had another client who was in denial (this happens often) and The Cobra walked that delicate line between pushing his client into what’s best for him and respecting his client’s wishes.   At one point during the proceedings it kind of dawned on the client just what was going on – the “oh shit” moment.  The client’s attitude was transformed and as we were filing his appeal, he praised The Cobra for his sharpness and tenacity – “Shit man, you’re some kind of cobra, you’re so fast and viscous.  A viper – that’s what you are, a viper.”

He’s also an unabashed Detroit Tiger’s fan.  I think that says all we need to know about his moral courage.

Needless to say, it was a privilege to watch him work for a whole summer, to see cases cycle through, beginning to end, and to hear his observations on them.

The Program:

If you want to see a large number of cases from advisement to appeal and spend significant time in the courthouse, this is the internship for you.  It gives you a good feel for what practicing in the criminal justice system is like.

The PDs office makes intelligent use their interns and they go out of their way to tell you how much they rely on you.  Since the PDs office has limited resources, they use interns to do a lot of actual work, from morning advisements, to interviewing clients and witnesses, to researching topics.  I must stress that this is not the “crap work” other offices might dump on you (all the attorneys did their own printing, faxing, photocopying, filing, etc.) – it’s fascinating stuff that gives you a wonderful window into the world of criminal law.  You have a chance to contribute significantly to the resolution of actual cases, and it’s *quite* cool to watch a piece of information you’ve unearthed send a prosecutor’s case to the bottom, or to hear an argument you’ve proposed presented in a case.

The summer began with orientation, then launching right into watching cases and sitting in on interviews.  They started us off easy and brought us up to speed quickly.   

Beyond the day to day courtroom/client exposure, which I will explain in the next section, the program featured several special intern activities.

We were offered a tour of the state forensic lab (which I did) and a ride-along with the local PD (which I declined – I’ve been on ride-alongs before).

The PD arranged for us to meet a federal judge and get a tour of his chambers.  She also brought in several guest speakers, including the defense attorneys who had represented Zacarias Moussaoui and John Allen Muhammad.

We also participated in the above-mentioned mock trial.  We were given a fact pattern and developed it after we’d had lectures on trial overview/evidence, client interviewing, voir dire, openings, direct and cross examinations, and closings.  All in all it was kind of a mini-course in VA criminal law.

When important or interesting trials came up, we were encouraged to go observe them.  During the summer I saw countless misdemeanor bench trials, several full jury trials (all stages), and some very cool motions, including one basically drafted by The Floridian (fellow Section 3er and intern) for the “victim” in a case to be referred to as the “complaining witness,” a la the Kobe Bryant case.  I got to see one of my motions used (restitution sentencing argument) although facts came out at trial that made UCA do some quick adjusting.

The Typical Day:

I left from my early summer apartment at 8am to ride the 6 miles into work.  (Later in the summer, I’d leave at 7am to ride the 18 miles into work.)  Arriving at 8:30ish, I’d stow the bike, sponge down, change into work clothing brought via backpack, collect pad and pen, and be ready to leave for the courthouse around 9am. 

The Cobra (who worked the misdemeanor docket) would usually hand me 2-3 cases where I’d locate the client and go over their testimony, try to locate the prosecution’s witnesses, try to interview the prosecution witnesses, etc.  I’d go with The Cobra back into lockup and talk with clients there.  Every now and then The Cobra would ask my opinion on something, or ask what I’d do in light of new facts (given that I may have done the initial client interview).  He’d also routinely ask what kind of witnesses various people would make – were their stories solid, convincing?   

When court began I’d sit down and watch, normally with SurferDude, the other Section 3 intern, who was also assigned to the misdemeanor docket.  The Cobra would meet with us between cases if he needed something done – taking a client to the clerk’s office, getting paperwork, relaying information to clients who had not yet been called, having us interview people who showed up late. 

Court would end generally around lunch time, and The Cobra , SurferDude, and I would have a post mortem chat on our way to lunch, which we’d return to the office with.   When we arrived, we’d sit down at the conference table with the entire office.  We’d tell stories, rehash the day, toss ideas around, and swap gossip.  This was my favorite time of day, actually – listening to the off-the-cuff impressions of practitioners.

After lunch until 5 there were a dizzying array of options: straight up research on a legal issues; interviewing clients, either alone or with The Cobra; calling witnesses; issuing subpoenas; driving out to crime scenes and interviewing potential witnesses, photographing the area, beating the bushes; going to a motions in judge’s chambers; going to the jail to consult with clients; going to the prosecutor’s office for discovery.  Or we could watch an interesting case or do one of the planned intern activities (as mentioned above)  Coffee was always involved.   

Then, home.  The work stayed in the office, and I normally made it back between 5:20 (early days, near commute) and 7pm (late days, long commute).

Socially:

The office went out of their way to foster a sense of community.  Doors were kept open nearly all the time and you could always ask attorneys for their impressions and suggestions.  After hours, (Beer o’ clock, “downstairs” conference room) I went out drinking a few times with the attorneys, played softball 3 times, went to a couple of parties, bummed a few rides, and had good conversations daily.  However, I missed the pool party, plus the famous retreat weekend (costs nearly nothing) to a resort lake out in the mountains somewhere.  The other interns formed a trivia team that met up early in the week, and seemed to meet up for activities most weekends.

I had expected to participate more fully when I had signed on – although at that time I wasn’t dating anyone and had no book-offer on the table.  When you add in all the “extra” unexpected things that happened this summer, including a rather large apartment move, I just had too much on my plate to participate fully in the office’s social culture.

Which is really too bad, as I enjoyed working with all the interns and the attorneys. I never felt pressured, defensive, or uncomfortable, and whatever few LS pretensions there were fell pretty quickly.

Drawbacks: 

The office technology is poor.  The internet connection was so slow we had to use Lexis as Westlaw took too long to load.  Further, the computers are all locked down and run old browser versions, which made doing some computer tasks very difficult.  A few interns brought their laptops in and used a free wireless network, which greatly eased the load.

There’s also not a lot of space in the office and interns often sit elbow to elbow.  There are some quiet research areas though, so it all pans out in the end.

All in all, there’s very little (almost nothing) to complain about, and oodles to recommend.   I think the summer was most valuable in making the abstract concepts “real” in a way that mock exercises never quite seem to do for me.   It’s one thing to learn about subpoenas – it’s another to see a file of 50 of them, to write your own, send it out, and watch it work.  I do appreciate my Section 3 education, but I think I’d have gotten more out of it if we’d had a dash of reality early on.

CSI – Courtroom Spastic Incident

Well, today was a commuting nightmare in VA – hot, sticky, a suspect busline, a strange taxi driver who suddenly seemed to get his simple bearings as I pulled out a pen and started writing down his operator number.  In the end, I got to where I was going – one of the Forensic labs, where I thought I would meet my fellow Public Defender interns for a tour of the facility.  Alas – for some reason everyone but myself blanked out on it and I ended up getting a tour by myself, which was fun, although it made getting back less easier than I’d planned.   

The lab was quite cool – I got a fairly detailed overview of just what’s done there and by whom.  I got to see actual ballistic tests being performed and was lectured on the equipment.  The tour guide was an experienced forensic scientist who by his own account kind of “lucked” into the job, back in the 80s, before it was a sexy profession;  he told a lot of good jokes.  It got me thinking about the whole Byzantine certification/hiring process for many professions.  Seems like for almost anything you’ve got to tender your 4 years and X number of thousands before you’re allowed to begin learning a job (which you’d have to be trained for.)

Given the frustrating commute there and back, I can only say that I’m amazed there aren’t more summer homicides in the South.  (One of my pet peeves is “southern graciousness” which largely seems to be employed to act completely obnoxiously in front of third parties, and as a justifier to delaying, impeding, or annoying someone who does not know, and has no desire to discuss, whatever personal anecdote you’d like to go off on.)

As much as I enjoyed the tour, I was disappointed to hear that I completely missed out on a courtroom meltdown by one of the local prosecutors.  In the course of speaking for a collogue, the prosecutor told a judge (who was a former defense attorney) that he believed all lawyers were cheats and liars, except for prosecutors, who he regarded as having a higher moral standard than the rest of the bar and thus should be given more leeway.  This was said in open court.  Amazing.  I think the small legal community is still in a bit of a shock over this one.  When I asked some of the lawyers what they thought of the incident, they seemed mostly bemused.  “Bizarre,” was the most common response, “Painful to watch,” was a close second.  It might be tempting to pin this on some kind of burnout, but I think it was just what he honestly believed.   

Tomorrow I may have to testifiy to impeach a witness - exciting.

Random Justice

Well, it’s time for some more public defender anecdotes (and how much I wish the actual PDs would chip in with their own experiences to educate the blogging public).  Anyway.

I should point out that the facts in my stories are considerably but in varying degrees fudged to blur the parties involved, but the gist of it, like all good story/fiction/poetry should ring true enough.

We had a judge dealing with 5 open container/drunk in public charges.  None of them were represented by the PD office.  The judge called the first name – and the defendant was not present.  $25 fine after assessing, via a police officer’s testimony, that the absent defendant was drinking Old Milwaukee outside.  (And, let’s face it, is that so bad a result?)  The judge calls the second name, exact same result.  The third name involves a woman drinking beer out of a red cup as she walks up the street.  The judge, using a special clairvoyant power, declares, “I’m sure she (absent defendant) was just going up the street to see a friend.  Case dismissed.”  The fourth case, again absent defendant, results in a $50 fine.  The fifth case, where the defendant actually showed up for court featured a brief statement by the police officer saying he arrested Defendant X for drunk in public in the downtown area, but concluded with the following dialogue:

Judge:  “Do you have a job, sir.”
X:  “I’m a somethingorother.”
Judge: “Who is your employer?”
X: “SoandSo, they’re up in the BlahBlahBlah neighborhood.”
Judge:  “So why don’t you go and drink up there.  Get out of my courtroom.  Case dismissed.”

Unsurprisingly the docket was cleared pretty quickly. 

Recently, I also went to the jail.  It’s interesting, especially given that there are some *very* high profile people held in the jail right now.  While I was there I met the sister of the King of Interdiction.  Basically, if you’re a habitual drunkard in this state they can interdict you, which is like being on double secret probation – very easy to rack up offenses for drunk in public or possessing alcohol.  The King has been arrested over 400 times, with his arrest activity peaking some years ago at just over 100 arrests for his peak year.  Sometimes he’d be arrested 2 or 3 times a day.  I also met with some very odd clients.  I have to be super-careful blogging about them, but in general it amazes me how many people will take a short term fix (plea) which leads (in some cases, given probation, it’s guaranteed) to more time served and trouble down the road.  It’s also amusing when clients lie to you.  I mean bald faced lies that are evidenced as contradictions within their own stories.  There’s a very delicate process of massaging the truth out of some people. 

Odd Morning

After a night of strange dreams of New England and a living Scopmobile, I woke to find the news from London.

I hope Atomic is OK - she usually is, and given that she travels so much, she probably isn’t even in the city.

It's hard not to take the idea that terrorists are out to destroy the American way of life seriously - although I view them as simply giving gasoline to those who'd like to send us further into a socially-conservative corporate oligarchy.

I wonder what it was like on the Metro this morning? I seldom take the Metro for my daily doings so I’d be a poor judge of any changes. Indeed, this morning I blissfully rode in, thinking of our jounal club meeting last night while listening to a cycling playlist and noting my flashing and zipping bicycle commuters opposite.

I wonder which prosecutor will use this news (just a matter of time) to spout off on "the rule of law" and the "threat to civilization" and try to give some poor dumb client of ours a few extra years ('cause that'd solve everything.)

Adding to the oddness, I am blogging this from AI’s office. Not to out AI, but he has a spacious if barren walled office (cultivating a civilization of the mind?) and, more importantly, a free computer.  If any of you would like dirty secrets on him, I can offer the following - his desk is clean, but the trackball on his mouse is filthy, filthy, filthy.  Shameful. 

Score One for the Little Guy

Life in the Public Defender’s office has been great from an education standpoint.  I’ve gotten to see tons of cases (sometimes dozens a day) resulting in pleas and trials.  I’ve seen cases come in, move through the system, and finish up.  I’ve been able to do legal research for actual cases that involve the stupid bone-headedness you expect from life and watch how the legal process picks and chooses elements out of complicated human scenarios.  I’ve interviewed clients, police, and witnesses, (supervised and on my own) and scoped out crime scenes, which has impacted (at every stage) how my attorney goes about the cases at hand.  I’ve sat in on discovery and attended motions in judge’s chambers.  I’ve listened in and observed other interns and attorneys researching lengthier felony trials and sat in on some spectacular jury trials for such.  All this has gone a long way to reorient my ideas about how the criminal justice system operates, at least in my part of the country, and sadly, despite the valiant efforts of the office, it’s really not a pretty picture.  There was a line used by the chief defender when she first sold the program to us, “No need to go abroad to deal with human rights violations, we have plenty of those right here in X.”  That’s proved true. 

However, today I saw something totally uplifting. 

We were in circuit court for a day of appeals from the general district court.  I was surprised to see the number of people who were representing themselves (misdemeanors) in front of the court.  One in particular stood out – a smallish African-American man, not quite appropriately dressed in slightly ill-fitting clothing.  He seemed early-50ish and looked down on his luck.  He didn’t quite look homeless, but looked just one step above it: an uneducated retiree from a blue collar job living in public housing perhaps.  The state brought an open container charge against him (which really prompts many questions, such as why the state would bother with the relatively immense cost of sticking with this petty charge through the appeal.)  The arresting officer was there to testify and was a member of a quasi-notorious police unit referred to as “the jump out squad” by the locals.  These officers cruise about in a plain van and then jump out when they spot such egregious behavior as someone sitting on a stoop, drinking from a beer bottle.  More tax dollars well spent I think - arrgh.  Anyway, even before the trial got rolling, things didn’t look too favorable for the Little Guy, as judges around here normally defer to the officer’s version of the story.   

The trial started with the Little Guy calmly and respectfully sitting through the judge’s explanation of the process and the prosecution’s opening remarks.  At this point nothing seemed odd.  When the officer had finished giving his testimony in “Official Sounding Police Vernacular With Dates and Times and Locations” about giving the Little Guy a ticket for having an open container of malt liquor, things looked pretty bleak.  You have to picture an enormous blue-grey courtroom with portraits of judges on the walls, nearly empty toward the end of the docket, with the prosecutor standing up in her suit, and the policeman in his uniform.  The Little Guy is sitting nearly engulfed in his chair, only his shoulders and head visible.  We have no idea what he will say – he could be crazy, inarticulate, stuck on a minor point of his treatment by the police which has nothing to do with the legal merits of the charge against him.

However, at this point it all changed.  The Little Guy rocked back in his chair, steepled his fingers, and with just enough contempt and aggression, began rattling off a line of questions at the officer.  It went something like this:

LG:  You say you saw a half empty bottle of malt liquor on the sidewalk next to where I was sitting?
O:  I did.
LG:  It was half empty?
O:  It was.
LG:  Was it spilled anywhere on the ground?
O:  Not that I could see.
LG:  Did you see me purchase this bottle?
O:  I did not.
LG:  Did you see me drink out of this bottle?
O:  No.
LG:  Did you even see me touch this bottle?
O:  Um, no.
LG:  Did my breath smell like liquor?
O:  No, it didn’t.
LG:  Did you give me a breathalizer test?
O:  Uh, no.
LG:  So do you have any proof that I was intoxicated?
O:  Um, no, I don’t.
LG:  If I wasn’t intoxicated, and the liquor was missing, where do you think it went?
O:  I’m not really sure.
LG:  There were other people there at the time, moving about?
O:  There were.
LG:  There were other people sitting down near the bottle?
O:  There were.
LG:  Why did you think the bottle was mine?
O:  Inspector So-and-so gave me your description and said it was yours.
LG:  (accusatorily) And just where is that guy?
O:  (tentatively) Um.  He’s not here right now.  I mean, I don’t know where he is.  He’s not in court.

At this point I’m having trouble not laughing aloud, watching Jump-Out Cop getting hammered on the stand by some guy they thought would be a roll-over.  SurferDude, my fellow intern, sitting next to me gripping his hands together as a physical distraction throughout the whole thing, had to leave the courtroom lest he completely lose it.  My attorney, sitting in front of me, leans back and whispers in a very contented way, “Awesome.  Just Awesome.”  I couldn’t reply since I was biting my cheek and my eyes were tearing up.  But it gets better.

The judge, who has probably made up his mind at this point, leaned forward and asked in a very pro-forma way, “Do you have any evidence you’d like to present in your defense?”

“As a matter of fact, I do, your Honor.  I have brought a witness.”

Cop shoots prosecutor a nervous look.  Scoplaw is trying so very very hard not to break down in laughter.  The witness proved to be younger than the defendant, dressed in a T-shirt and shorts, and named after a President.  With little prompting from the defendant, he told a story that completely aligned with the questions the defendant had asked.  They systematically cut off any objection the prosecution could raise – one of my favorite lines was:  “I didn’t testify at the original trial, but when I heard he was found guilty, it seemed so outrageous that I knew I should come down to the court today and testify at his appeal.”  These guys were great – didn’t muff a single term, delivered everything in their southern accented, vernacular English.   

The prosecution declined to cross and the Little Guy moved on to his defense, punctuated by such lines as, “Your Honor, I don’t *need* to have anyone give me malt liquor.  It’s not my style.  I can take care of myself that way.  If I want it, I go out and buy it and drink it myself.  This liquor wasn’t mine.  I didn’t buy it and I didn’t drink it.” 

After both parties had rested, the judge dismissed the case and I sighed a satisfied sigh.  The Little Guy stood up with dignity, said, “Thank you Your Honor,” then stalked out of the court without looking at the prosecution.  After seeing what prosecutors routinely get away with, I just wanted to stand up and shout, “Punked!” at them.  Unfortunately, it says a lot that I felt that way – that I’d be elated such a clearly pro-defendant case would turn out in the defendant’s favor. 

Small Victories

Today was the day of things almost-disastrous.  I almost forgot the appointment at the jail to get my clearance/ID.  I did forget about the public defender softball game (cancelled).  I forgot my AAA auto club number which I was given over the phone.  I called financial aid to make sure everything was done and they told me I forgot to sign a piece of paper.  I forgot my younger brother’s cell phone number and narrowly missed having him take the scopmobile to a mechanic for me.  I couldn’t find my keys, which didn’t matter since my sweetie was coming home at the same time I was.  All in all, disasters narrowly avoided.

On the plus side I have an interesting riddle about trespassing cases in VA – specifically cases where someone is banned from one publicly administered housing project but then loses access to *all* such properties in the city.  We have a good, as yet untried, argument, but there appears to be an easy “fix” on the other end, which would make for a temporary solution at best.  More research is required, but my brain is already churning. 

I also saw the cutest bear-cub masquarading as a puppy.

When I got home, I took out the glue (bookbinder’s glue – a mixture of long and short polymers) to repair: a leather bound soft back Lady of the Lake (Scott), Andrew Lang’s Arabian Nights, and another mass produced, faux-leather, single-volume Lord of the Rings.  I picked up the damaged Scott at a yard sale (block completely separated from the cover), and the Lang from a bookstore bin (hard cover held on by literally threads of linen).  I used snips from an old silk shirt to patch them and they’re both drying nicely.  For the Tolkien, a slightly better constructed book, I have to move in stages.  Basically I’ll be using paper, cloth, and glue to reinforce the basic binding and repair the separation tears the weight of the book itself has caused.   Once you know what you’re doing, binding goes pretty fast.

I'm enjoying these small victories as my assorted outstanding projects get pushed that much further toward completion.  I have some sewing to do tomorrow and must rebuild Lumina with a better bottom bracket. 

If all goes well I’ll be picking up the Scopmobile from Connecticut this weekend, perhaps taking her for a spin out to the Cape to visit my family (no way to get the bikes up, alas!), and then bringing her (and a bookshelf?) down for both commuting insurance and to help out with my move from Pentagon City up to Takoma.  I think she’ll enjoy the milder winters down here as well. 

Plans, plans, plans.   My days are fill of small plans. 

Work and Play

I got a lot of work done this weekend; I passed on a Public Defender retreat which sounded like a hell of a lot of fun to attend to some writing stuff and log (finally!) a weekend of general maintenance activity.  One of the things I did was to poke through my old boxes of stuff that I moved and do another culling of stuff to donate/sell (mostly clothes I don’t/won’t wear and some old technology rendered obsolete by Tatterdemalion, my laptop.) 

When one constantly moves, there’s the benefit of lathing down one’s stuff.  For a natural packrat it’s sort of interesting – you tend to start only saving items which you really really think will come in handy.  For example, I had a small spool of brass wire which I’ve kept about for a long time as it hardly weighs anything and seems like it could be quite useful;  it turned out to be so as I made some windchimes from said wire and some old bicycle gearing (tempered metal, precisely weighted, makes for great chimes).  I think I can still pack everything I own into a small moving van though. 

One of the drawbacks to moving constantly is holding all the old information in your head.  It’s amazing how the official machinery of the state, etc., does not take modern jetting about into perspective.  Earlier at this week I was filling out a security clearance at a jail (they have high profile prisoners in there) and I couldn’t remember, for the life of me, the street address in the 4th-most-recent apartment that I lived in.  Eh.  I promised to e-mail the info, which I did today.  Security checks are spooky.  I have nothing to worry about, but it’s hard not to worry, seeing how difficult it is to erase mistakes or misunderstandings from the official record.  I’m always vaguely paranoid that something odd will happen (my name got mixed with someone elses’ once) and I’ll have to spend hours explaining, faxing, etc.   The paper world of records has a life of it’s own, and it’s amazing how much trust people place in it.

**

Another reason to feel I made the right call by choosing a work-weekend over a play weekend was that yesterday I was surprised by a call from some relatives who were in town.  My cousin had a piece of artwork selected for a national display here in DC.  I can’t believe she’s 17 now.  That’s shocking.  I used to babysit her when she was very small.  But it was good to see her and my aunt and uncle.  It’s been awhile since I was able to hang out with them, and I really enjoy their company – they’re both tack-sharp and good-hearted people.

Today I’m (in part, writing activities aside) working on consolidating my loans.  I used to work for SallieMae and for one of the Federal Guarantee Agencies when I graduated from college, so I have an unfortunate amount of information re student loans in my brain.  I can’t imagine this is news at this point, but if you know someone in school, refer them to their lender for an explanation of how consolidation can lock in the lower in-school interest rate on their loans (although at the cost of their grace period).

**

My ankle refuses to heal fully, which is vexing.   I can ride well enough, but walking (which is also well enough) seems to aggravate it back into soreness each day.  It’s been a few weeks now, which is annoying.  I hope it does not take as long to heal as my shoulder did last year.

**

The interns at the Public Defender have taken to replacing our ID photos with mugshots from famous and not so famous people.  I got Robert Downey Jr., which is a loose but comfortable fit.  Luckily for me the Rob Lowe one is hard to find. 

**

Sister School reports that the veggie garden planted in the Law School Palace is doing very well – including the catnip bush planted for El Gato Perfecto, who will be joining me at some point over the next few months.  Hmm.  I need to get in touch with Private Idaho (future roomie) and see how her summer is going.

I think I’ll do that now.  Or work on Lumina.  Or read.  Or write.  Or review poetry for the journal.  Or go grocery shopping.  Sigh.  I have only 6 hours or so before the demands of the week resume.  Best use them wisely.

Life in the Public Defender’s Office

Is good.  Very very good.  So good in fact that I feel I ought to be paying *them* money for the experience, rather than working for free and having the EJF pick up my tab. 

The office is staffed by committed, passionate, yet down-to-earth attorneys who aren’t afraid to laugh at some of the things that roll through the place.  I’m impressed by both their compassion and their skills as advocates.  There’s little or no bullshit and the office is very casual – we can wear jeans on some days when we’re not in court.  The best part of the day is lunch, where everyone gathers around the conference room table and talks a comfortable blend of shop and casual conversation.  Some of the stories these guys have are amazing. 

I’m assigned to a young attorney who handles mostly misdemeanors and spend (thusfar) my much of my day in court, at his elbow.  Recently I watched him assemble a very strong case out of next to nothing – it was like watching someone make bread out of straw.  Part of my day is for calling clients and witnesses, and generally shooting the shit about all the cases in the office (which range from misdemeanors to capital cases).   Another prong of the internship is a lecture/exercise/research prong.  Thus far we’ve gotten a crash course on criminal procedure for our jurisdiction which was immeasurably helpful – I really feel like all the points of confusion have been cleared up well enough so that I can follow along without difficultly and begin to predict likely outcomes. 

I’m also enjoying the fellow interns: The Persian, the Dapper Floridian, and SurferDude are all from my section, so among the 11 or so interns, we form a small and odd block.  Had I been the only one, I’d enjoy myself just as much I think – my new fellow interns are all pretty laid back (as far as law students go) and are pretty communicative about what they’re working on. 

In terms of applying my first year knowledge, some of it has come in handy – specifically the “big picture” stuff: policy arguments, etc.   There’s a recurring issue with abduction that would comfortably find a home in a number of my classes (the prosecutors want to tack it on to everything, raising a 5 year offense to 5 plus however many extra years the abduction would add on (in some cases doubling the sentence), which raises issues of just where the authority to determine appropriate punishment lies.   I’d have to say the line “We’re all Realists (Legal Realism) now,” has been rattling about my brain quite often.  Strategies are formulated with judges in mind, and there’s a lot of prediction/speculation over how things “actually turn out” rather than how things ought to turn out based on an abstract system of jurisprudence.  While I want the abstract theory, the idealized stuff, I personally work better when I have an understanding of "how it is" (however subjective and limited) that I can play off against "how it ought to be". 

Busy Scoplaw = Bad Blawger

Bad Blawger, Bad

Whew.  That was a whirlwind.  Monday to Saturday was just a blur.  A Fast Moving blur.  While I was gone the Scoplaw blog crested over 40k hits, which is pretty cool.

I begin the recollection on Monday.  It featured our final for Property, in which I believe I was punked.   I never have felt a greater disjunction between the material that I knew (as a percentage of the overall knowledge in the class) and what I was able to apply on the test.  I will be living off the curve on this one.  Given that we all know that testing/exams is/are a complete waste of time, I’ve not much to say, beyond again registering my disappointment that GULC still buys into the typical law school bullshit by not coming up with a) a fair way to measure the knowledge of any given student, b) a useful structure to provide feedback which traces student progress, c) a method of assessment that highlights the strengths and weaknesses of a student.   This 20th century testing structure is simply chickenshit. 

After the exam I went out to Buffalo Billiards and said farewell (for the moment) to a lot of departing 3peeps.  I’m glad to know that many of them will be in town over the summer, which should pass fairly quickly.  I know I’ll be wrapped up in my summer job (after the write-on –ugh!- which I still haven’t committed to doing.  Tick tock.).

On Tuesday morning, Sister School and I got up at 6am to catch the 7am bus to Hartford.  Unfortunately, we got stuck next to that guy who thinks a bus trip is one big family outing, that everyone will be interested in responding to his random comments and observations.  We had a hour hold over in NYC, so we did a zip tour.  SS had been in NUC for a few hours to check out Columbia and hadn’t seen much of the place.  I showed her Grand Central, the Library, Times square.  Not much you can do in an hour bounded on both ends by Port Authority.  When we got to Hartford we had to wait an hour or so for Youngest Brother to pick us up.  So we went to the Capitol and watched the House of Representatives, which was in session.  An old classmate of mine is a state rep but, alas, he was not in when we were there.  We swung by the Wadsworth, which was closed, but we did get to see the Museum of Oddities and Natural Curiosities in the attic of the old state house.  We met YB and zipped off to my home town, where we had dinner at a small Italian place.  I had the prima vera which was excellent.  Then, to H’s house, where we worked on the Scopmobile, which has been sitting in H’s driveway since Columbus day.  We bought some parts (and some treats), and also prepped most of my moving/storage boxes.  After that we chilled with H, played late night wine-drinking Scrabble, and Trombone Player called (on tour) from Geneva - “It’s full of little cars!!” 

After crashing, we got up early on Wednesday and spent the entire day working on the car.  The entire day.  For one of the side trips I went to PhotoGal’s house and picked up my jack and stands.  When I was there I saw both HouseJ, who looks good, and my cat, Ganymede, whom I love dearly.  (Photogal and I got her when we were living in Athens together, and I hope that G-mede will join me in DC before the end of the summer.)  Toward the end of the day, after replacing the battery, draining the gas tank, cleaning the electricals, replacing the plugs, wires, distributor/rotor, and lubing the engine with new oil, we had traced the problem to one of the little cube like relays (Volvo owners know what I’m talking about).  Unfortunately, no one carried the part.  So I called my secret Volvo guy (SVG), who owns a small parts shop somewhere in New England.  You can buy parts from him because he has a license, but if you leave for a coffee and the parts just seem to end up on your car and become much more expensive, well, it’s probably best not to ask.  SVG is a legend in the underground Volvo community.  Yes.  There really is such a thing in Southern New England.  In this case, I just bought the parts from him since the Scopmobile is non-operational.  On the way back with the cube, we tried to stop into the Bidwell, but due to the UCONN graduation it was packed, absolutely packed.  So we (H, SS, and I) decided to go to one of the local diners, get some food (it was very late at this point) and meet up with Elegante, which we did.  Elegante is chronically late.  When I lived in Providence and she lived in Hartford, I’d routinely make plans with her then show up an hour late, knowing that I’d still be early and have to wait.  As we were eating H said, “So, I guess it’s possible that E already showed up and then left?”  Then she started laughing hysterically at the look on my face.  E eventually showed up and decided to relocate us all to the Half-Door in Hartford, which we chilled at for the rest of the evening before returning and crashing out.

On Thursday, the plan was to get up early, get a rental car, move my shit from H’s (who has flooding issues) to my Dad’s (who does not).  However, there was a brief moment of excitement when the Scopmobile turned over and idled for 30 seconds before dying.   I decided to get the rental car anyway, since the Scopmobile could have easily died on the 7 hour drive south.  Youngest brother (who has been a brick) will be looking after her while I am gone, and hopefully a local mechanic will be able to get her going without any trouble.  If that’s the case I will simply pick her up at some point later on in the summer.  So, after getting the rental, we moved the boxes to my dad’s, packed up the car and hit the road.  One of the mission points was to pick up a couple of road bike frames so I could build SS a bike over the summer.  That alone was worth the trip – I spent less on all the trip costs, food, and parts for the Scopmobile (much was under warrantee) than I would have if I bought SS a low end road bike (new).  It’s about break even if you weigh a used bike against the costs, but I got to see, YB, H, Elegante, my dad, and pick up a bunch of books, clothing and whatnots from storage.  Ideally I’d have driven the Scopmobile south and used her to move, but (excellent!) some of SS’s friends showed up, including Forrester Queen, the Farmer, and Wildflower who all were good enough to help me move with the assistance of their vehicles.  But I get ahead of myself.  The tail end of Thursday was driving down to DC (where we missed the Jude Walker and the Rockstar’s most recent gig – alas!) and meeting up with SS’s friends – it was a late late night.

On Friday, I got up, moved some things with the rental car, dropped it off, then moved all my shit (all day) with the aid of the aforementioned gals.  When I finally checked out of the dorm (ack! Dorm! ack!) at 10pm, I felt so good to finally be free of the place.  It was good enough, but I’m too old to deal with much of the dorm bullshit.  We all had a Thai dinner and the went out for drinks at Capitol City Brewery, followed by dessert at the Dubliner, where we ran into Scott Scheule, who was his usual gregarious self. 

On Saturday, I woke up in the new summer sub-let digs in Pentagon City – drank coffee, slept, unpacked a few things, rode up to mount pleasant on an errand, met the gals for lunch after their Farmer’s market excursion (the place is now full of good things to eat, courtesy friends of the Farmer, who sometimes works the farmer’s market there.  On the ride back I found a small liquor store in Georgetown who sells Becherovka, so I bought a bottle for the gals.  After unpacking, taking a first run at the write-on (which I still am undecided about doing), I will make use of the sauna in the building, chill with the gals, organize all my bills and new place things (mail forwarding, etc.), and get ready for the week.  On Thurs, I start with a local public defender’s office for my summer interning gig.  Should be an eye-opener.  I also have a ton of personal stuff to take care of, much of which is mitigated by the errands I’ve squirreled in (unblogged) during the week and the tail end of finals.

I’m finally coming down off my exam high of constant work/study, although I haven’t slept for more than 7 hours a day since Monday.  Many nights have only been 4 hours or so.  The ride today really made me feel less like a doughball with legs, and my legs are stronger for the break (it’s been a week since I’ve been on the bike, even for groceries/errands).  I should be ready to start my summer work by Thurs. (and I’m quite excited for it.)  I have to hand deliver some things on Monday, one way or the other.  Man.  It never ends. 

Tomorrow SS is flying off to Atlanta, which means I’ll have the place to myself.  Which means much work will be done.  It’ll be nice to cook something as well, without measuring it against the clock.  I’ve been very efficient lately, but there’s always a cost, a price for that.  I need to give myself a night of nothing but wine, writing (poetry), and something simmering softly in 2 pans.   Perhaps I’ll make a leisurely start on Sister School’s new bike. 

(I love building bikes for people who will ride them. So soothing to do hand/body work and just let the mind wander as it wills.  As a bonus, I may be able to get most of a second road bike out of all my parts for a 3 peep who will be spending her summer in Venezuela.  I ran into her today and regret not spending more time with her during the semester – she’s quite cool.   But there’s a chance I’ll go bowling with her and some other 3peeps before she jets off, which would be most excellent.  Regardless, I hope to have one built for her by late August.)

**

Scoplaw moves the Farmer as part of the relocation project.