Forced Adventure
Dispatch from jury duty! Plus The Heard
It’s one thing to sit around writing a newsletter encouraging others to appreciate the mundane and make the everyday an adventure.
It’s another thing to have jury duty.
I’m all for fulfilling my civic obligations, but spending multiple days sitting through lengthy voir dire processes forced me to call my own bluff. Could I really make an adventure of this? For someone who likes to boast that he’s almost never bored, it was a test. Here’s how I fared!
I wasn’t able to prepare myself with a set of assignments in advance, since I didn’t really know what to expect, so I just tried to stay in an open-to-the-moment mindset.
On Day 1 there was a long line to get through the metal detector at 8:30 a.m., which gave me the opportunity to appreciate the surprisingly fun shade of blue on this trash can, contrasting with stark type and garbage overflow. I decided to declare this an accidental art work, making an ambiguous statement about the experience awaiting us all.
Everyone was ushered into a vaguely bus station-like waiting area, amusingly labelled the jurors’ “lounge.” It was crowded; I found a seat next to a guy who punctuated every sip of his coffee with an “ahhhhhh” exhale. I people-watched as I waited for something to happen; most studied their phones.
We were informed of various rules and procedures — including no photo-taking in the building — and about six “ahhhhhh”s later they called the names for the first jury panel, involving a second-degree murder charge. I was on it.
During voir dire you pretty much have to direct your attention to the proceedings, so you don’t look like an idiot when one of the lawyers asks you a question. One of the cool things about jury duty is the variety of people — notable examples in this case: a priest, a neuroscientist, and a judge — and perhaps speculating about who you would invite to a small cocktail party, or maybe which combination would make for the best reality show.
I also imagined a game: Who is giving the response that makes them the least likely person to get picked? (Over the course of my stint, this produced a tie, between a guy who declared that he “opposed the carcerial state,” and a woman on a different panel who professed to be “a prison abolitionist.”)
On breaks, I went with my “photo walk with no camera” exercise from the book (just imagining the pictures I’d take, without taking any), studying the building’s interior architectural details — a mix of grandeur and decay, classic soaring ceilings, elaborate light fixtures, fussy ornamentation … and cracked or bubbled paint. It was also interesting to contrast the different courtrooms I would ultimately spend time in — from the old and grandiose to the one that suggested “1970s hotel lobby.”
Voir dire ended at about 3:30. I didn’t get picked.
Day 2 I was again called to a panel, this time involving a robbery and obstruction charge. It was a particularly slow and boring procedure, and I appreciated how good New Orleanians are at small talk with strangers. You really can’t get through a two-floor elevator ride here without somebody striking up a chat. And locals really know how to talk to strangers: in the moment, engaged, comfortable with different types, and often funny.
I mini-bonded with one woman as we quietly made fun of the prosecuting lawyers’ weird hypotheticals. During a break, she added the woman in front of us to the conversation, which meandered across various topics until she matter of factly announced that she refuses to get her car inspected: “I’ll prove my car is street-ready when this city proves its streets are car-ready!” This drew approval from everyone in earshot; several people suggested it would make a good T-shirt or bumper sticker.
Also: It’s a funny thing to announce while sitting in an actual criminal court.
Voir dire took until about 2. I didn’t get picked.
Day 3 I wasn’t called for the first panel of the day. By now I had learned where the vending machines were, so I went to get a snack. (I don’t eat a lot of junk food anymore, but I still love it.) I had to break the no-pictures rule to document this example of noticing something that could be fixed. It made me laugh.
Ten minutes after I finished my Snickers bar (I wanted chips!), I was called for the day’s second panel, another murder trial.
By now pretty much all the novelty of the courthouse setting had worn off. Luckily I had a new idea. I had just read an article about artist Danielle McKinney (gift link), whose remarkable paintings I wish I could see in person, and it included this:
Her mother gave Mckinney her first camera when she was 15. Her art, she’d say, was about “watching people look.”
So I spent much of the rest of the day watching people look. Especially whichever lawyers were not speaking, but who were studying us and taking notes. Sometimes I’d watch other gestures — hand movements, for instance.
At lunch I walked in a random direction and stopped at a random (and disappointing) taco place, again noting contrast as I went: between the self-important court building and the grubby bail bond places nearby.
Back at voir dire, I returned to watching others (jurors, court workers, etc.) until things wrapped up at about 4. I wasn’t picked.
I give myself a B- for finding ways to make an adventure of an obligatory experience that I was not looking forward to. But when I got the text that afternoon that I would not have to return for a fourth day, I was, I confess, elated.
THE HEARD
Sharing one randomly overheard song that I’ve enjoyed lately: Little unexpected bursts of delightful music are definitely things I savor.
Heard this great solo piano version of “Perfect Day” on All Songs Considered, and can’t get it out of my head:
I’m adding it to a playlist in progress, collecting my favorite instrumentals of 2024 — good background music! I recommend listening on shuffle. This playlist, currently about an hour and a half long, will be edited and added to as the year goes on.
HAVE A GREAT WEEKEND!
As always, I value your feedback (suggestions, critiques, positive reinforcement, constructive insults, etc.), as well as your tips or stories or personal noticing rituals, things we need a word for, and of course your icebreakers: consumed@robwalker.net. Or use the comments.
And thanks for reading …
rw
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All this by Rob Walker PO Box 171, 748 Mehle St., Arabi LA 70032
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I loved this post, especially “Row of chips not working.”
I love jury duty of course, for all the reasons you cite. Also, almost EVERYTHING is fun and interesting if you know you’ll be writing about it. I don’t understand how the non-writers survive.
Thanks for adding the Talkover 2024 playlist!