Teenagers, Redux.

Mostly my job is to represent grownups charged with crimes. Mostly. I do get the occasional juvenile case, though, and it gets me thinking about the good, the bad and the ugly of a teenager's lot in life ('course, I got my own teens, too, so it isn't just work that gets me thinking about teen behavior). I've posted about teenagers before. As a group, they'll drive you nuts. The experts have spilled plenty of ink on why teenagers do the stuff they do. From brain development to risk_taking. Bill Cosby talked about why parents never smile, and Alice Cooper summed it up pretty well way back in 1971 about being a teenager: "I've got a baby's brain, and an old man's heart". Here's your point/counter-point. Alice or 'Cos. Pick 'em.

A Day at the Beach.

When asked how he liked a job he'd recently acquired, my brother, the Amazing AndyMan, once said, "What can I tell you? If they paid me to drink beer and watch sports on t.v., I wouldn't like it because they'd tell me when to do it". Things change. I have it on good authority that he does like his current job... though they still tell him when to do it. The Public Defender's Office isn't a bad gig, all in all. The other day I had a hearing on Edisto Island, which was, quite literally, a day at the beach.

Roadtrip: Myrtle Beach 2010

After working our tails off for the past couple of months, Harris and I needed a break. The annual Public Defender's Conference in Myrtle Beach sounded like just the ticket. Pancake houses, cheap T-Shirt shops and Calabash shrimp galore. The weather as Lady Di and I left the Boro was abysmal. Naturally, the Horry County Chamber of Commerce would make sure we wouldn't encounter anything like that up the coast, right? This was what it looked and sounded like:




Diane and I dealt with the weather the way one is supposed to deal with such things: we went to a Mexican Restaurant. She got a margarita. I opted for something a bit more adventurous. The waitress told me that many Mexican men drank a combination of tomato juice, lime, spices and beer called a michelada. Fizzy tomato juice. Ugh! I didn't order a second one (My fish tacos were pretty good, though).

The next day I set out for the Public Defender's Conference. We weren't the only game in town. There were bunches of groups about. Various nurses and police squads mingled with "The Southern Society of Electroneurodiagnostic Technicians". Hey, I'd've joined; I just forgot to get my paperwork out... Oops! Don't want to go in here. Not after the michelada incident the night before.

Cash bar for the perinatal crowd? Does your doctor know about this? Waddya mean that IS your doctor? Better not let those Church Ladies find out!

That rain was awful. The tennis courts didn't get much action...

...but at least the tennis courts were open. How bad does a storm have to be to close down an indoor pool?

Lady Di figured out the best use of our time there.

On Tuesday afternoon, we had a few gorgeous minutes at Sunset, before the rain started up again.

Not a lot of toys this year. Usually the conventions are filled with vendors selling services and books. One book vendor and the South Carolina Association of Criminal Defense Lawyers was it. I went to Myrtle Beach, and all I got was this crummy squeeze ball.

A Wisp of My Former Self.

I tell you, I'm worn to a frazzle! A murder trial and twenty-seven guilty pleas in two weeks'll do that to you, I guess. Plus all the planning and various and sundry activities outside of work are a ton to handle. I'll try to get back back in the groove.

Doodles: Part, What? Three?

The fact that I had plenty of work to do last term of criminal court didn't keep me totally well-behaved when I wasn't up to bat. I still doodled before and after my trials.

Been Busy, III

Two murder trials in two weeks, plus personal stuff going on. Sheesh. A dude needs a break. Know what I mean?

I'm Not Feelin' Too Good, Myself.

The system works pretty well when everybody is doing their jobs right. This system didn't work very well this week. I wasn't feeling too great, and flipped open the Psalter in my copy of the Book of Common Prayer, randomly, and hit Psalm 82. Sleep was fleeting last night, so I got up around 5 a.m., and picked up the Psalter again and, randomly (or so I thought), hit 38:14. The current (1979) Episcopal Psalter is based on the 1535 English Reformation translation by Miles Coverdale, and is designed to be read aloud at services, so it doesn't always correspond exactly with the King James, New International or New American Standard versions. I like it a lot, and it pretty well told me where the problem was this week:

"But I have become like one who does not hear*
and from whose mouth comes no defense"

Not a good thing for a defense attorney.

No time to wallow, though. I've got another murder trial next week.

Nothing Has Been Proved.

Got another term of criminal court coming up. The case I was supposed to try got continued. I'm not sure what they're gonna do, but I reckon Dusty Springfield's got my closing statement written for me!

Still Busy.

Still in Court. With all the stuff I'm trying to get done of late, the weekend only offers a slight respite. Posting'll be spotty for a week or so, but I'll be back at it soon enough.

Been Busy, Again.

I've been in Court all week, and either busy or too tired to do anything special this week. I won't know Jack until tomorrow.

Night Court.

I had night court last light, which I generally don't have to do, and generally don't like. Unlike the old TV series, there wasn't a prosecutor there, and I was the only public defender. No John Larroquette, no Markie Post. No big lovable bailiffs. It was actually okay. No Bull.

A Puzzle, Wrapped in an Enigma.

Got court this week, but I didn't want you to be bored. Here's a jigsaw puzzle to work on until I get back.

Go To Jail. Go Directly to Jail. Do Not Pass Go. Do Not Collect $200.

I spend a lot of time at the Colleton County Detention Center. Many of my clients are unable to post their bail bonds, so they sit in jail until their case is called to trial. It probably wouldn't even help if they were allow out if they rolled doubles. Their luck is not too good, you see. I've got another week of criminal court next week. Some of those in jail now will be out next week; some of those that aren't in jail now, will be next week. And the beat goes on.



and on...

Before they Make Me Run.

I'm having a pretty easy term of General Sessions (criminal) Court this week. A private attorney is trying a murder case, so I've only had a few pleas and probation violations. I've even had time to work on my mid-week running. I'm running a few in the morning, and a few after work. I hope to cover about 40 miles for the week. The Kiawah Marathon is less than a month from now, so I've got to be diligent. Trials and running? Hmmm. Seems like Keith Richards had a song about that on the Rolling Stones' "Some Girls" album:



Here are the rest of the Lyrics in case, you know, you're into lyrics.

Baby Got Back, Three.

Court last week; Court this week. A trip to Panama City in between. This doodle is from last week's term of General Sessions. Ah, the glorious view from the Public Defender's table.

Going to be Busy, Two

You've seen the picture of Colleton County's courthouse before; you've heard the excuse for not posting before: Got court. Gonna be busy. News at Eleven.

Out of Pocket.

I'm gonna be scarce for the next few days. I remember hearing a peer from Tennessee use the term "out of pocket" to describe his pending absence. Dumb as I thought it sounded when I heard it, I've about worn it out myself. I've got another term of criminal court this week, and it looks to be a busy term. I dunno. We'll see.

Baby Got Back, Redux.

Still got court, which means I'm still seeing lots of butts.




Sir Mix-a-Lot knows what I'm talkin' about.

Pleas, please help me.

The Boro is in the midst of another term of criminal court. A couple of scheduled trials, including one of mine, ended with guilty pleas. There is a litany of questions the judge has to ask before sentencing to determine whether the Defendant understands the process and is making an informed and voluntary decision to plead guilty: Are you under the influence of drugs or alcohol? Are you completely satisfied with the services of your lawyer? Has he done everything you've asked him to do? Do you understand that you have a right to a trial by jury where the State would have to prove you guilty beyond a reasonable doubt? ...and on and on for ten or fifteen minutes. It is necessary, but becomes tedious when you've heard it hundreds and hundreds of times. Private attorneys can do their thing, then bolt; Public Defenders have to be in court. When I'm not representing a Defendant who's pleading guilty, I'm looking at their backside. I see a lot of backsides. The upside of the backsides is that I have something to doodle, anyway.

Dress for Success, Part 3

It is a sad fact that many people charged with crimes are not too smart. I have commented before that many folks accused of crimes regularly appear in court in apparel that screams "Thug". Baggy pants and "Scarface" shirts galore are short-cuts to long sentences by dudes and dudettes wanting to drag their street cred everywhere they roam. I think I mentioned that one dude wore camouflage to court. Cammo is never a great choice for a formal proceeding, but it was an especially unfortunate one for him, as he was charged with night hunting.

Recently, a fellow appeared at his attorney's office just prior to trial for criminal domestic violence wearing a white sleeveless athletic t-shirt, in common parlance, The Wife Beater (not the fellow at left. That's just a picture from the 'net). This was not the sort of fellow that was close to getting the irony of his clothing selection. He was advised to go home, put on a shirt with sleeves, and return. Dude showed up wearing an "Orange County Choppers" tee. Oh, well, it was an improvement, anyway.