My Day(s) in Court
Fridays are "motion days" in the Circuit Court, meaning that attorneys come in and enter motions, such as a motion for a continuance, for whatever cases on which they are working. Essentially, nothing important happens on motion days, which is why my supervisors allow me to serve as the clerk by myself on Fridays. As I sat in court this most recent motion day appearing to be intently working on the computer while in actuality I was playing minesweeper, I had a sudden revelation: "Hey, court is pretty boring." Don't get my wrong, I'm not saying that days like these aren't exciting for the judges and attorneys and, in general, people who are involved in the outcome of the cases. I'm just saying that now I understand why during a particularly long motion in a divorce case I watched a 6'6'', 250 lb. Bailiff read an issue of "Oprah" magazine (twice) just to shed a glimmer of excitement into the great netherworld of boredom into which he had unexpectedly wandered. Needless to say, I have found subtle ways (other than minesweeper) to amuse myself in court. Behold:
1) Apparently, the phrase "so help you God" at the end of most courtroom oaths is optional. So, I like to keep witnesses and court reporters on their toes. Sometimes I swear them in and say the phrase. Sometimes I leave it out. Sometimes I pause after "the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth" and then slip a "so help help you God" right in there when they're least expecting it. Let me tell you, the look on their face when I slap them upside the head with a "so help you God": priceless. *(in this case, 'priceless' actually means 'disinterested' or 'apathetic')
2) I even have a favorite motion. My favorite motion is the motion to quash. I don't actually know what a motion to quash is, but it sounds funny. I think that's because the phonetics are so similar to "squash" which is a funny word already, but it also ushers in humorous connotations (god damn, that sounded hella pretentious). When a lawyer requests a motion to quash, I often picture the judge pulling out a large foam hand or a big mallet, slamming it down on the bench, and saying something to the effect of "This subpoena has officially been quashed!" This image makes court proceedings seem more like a professional wrestling match or a Gallagher concert (neither of which are particularly interesting events to me, but my feelings might change if one of these events was to show up randomly in a fiduciary hearing).
3) Occasionally, a case will have a funny name which is entertaining as is. For example, one divorce-related hearing that I'll always remember was Ugbo v. Ugbo (There was great unrest in the Ugbo household, and what seemed like a match made in Ugbo heaven sadly came crashing down). Muller v. Butt was a pretty good one as well. However, when funny names are lacking, it helps to put a Sherlock-Holmes-esque tagline to make a case seem more exciting than it is. For example, Dillenbeck v. Dillenbeck doesn't sound great, but how about Dillenbeck v. Dillenbeck: The Case of the Missing Child Support. What about Jard v. White: The Negligent UPS Driver. Or, Rodriguez v. Rodriguez: The Speckled Band... oh wait, that last one really was a Sherlock Holmes story.
Well, that's pretty much all of the court entertainment that I have come up with as of now. I don't know how to end this unnecessarily long post, so I'll simple finish on a high note: Ugbo.
1) Apparently, the phrase "so help you God" at the end of most courtroom oaths is optional. So, I like to keep witnesses and court reporters on their toes. Sometimes I swear them in and say the phrase. Sometimes I leave it out. Sometimes I pause after "the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth" and then slip a "so help help you God" right in there when they're least expecting it. Let me tell you, the look on their face when I slap them upside the head with a "so help you God": priceless. *(in this case, 'priceless' actually means 'disinterested' or 'apathetic')
2) I even have a favorite motion. My favorite motion is the motion to quash. I don't actually know what a motion to quash is, but it sounds funny. I think that's because the phonetics are so similar to "squash" which is a funny word already, but it also ushers in humorous connotations (god damn, that sounded hella pretentious). When a lawyer requests a motion to quash, I often picture the judge pulling out a large foam hand or a big mallet, slamming it down on the bench, and saying something to the effect of "This subpoena has officially been quashed!" This image makes court proceedings seem more like a professional wrestling match or a Gallagher concert (neither of which are particularly interesting events to me, but my feelings might change if one of these events was to show up randomly in a fiduciary hearing).
3) Occasionally, a case will have a funny name which is entertaining as is. For example, one divorce-related hearing that I'll always remember was Ugbo v. Ugbo (There was great unrest in the Ugbo household, and what seemed like a match made in Ugbo heaven sadly came crashing down). Muller v. Butt was a pretty good one as well. However, when funny names are lacking, it helps to put a Sherlock-Holmes-esque tagline to make a case seem more exciting than it is. For example, Dillenbeck v. Dillenbeck doesn't sound great, but how about Dillenbeck v. Dillenbeck: The Case of the Missing Child Support. What about Jard v. White: The Negligent UPS Driver. Or, Rodriguez v. Rodriguez: The Speckled Band... oh wait, that last one really was a Sherlock Holmes story.
Well, that's pretty much all of the court entertainment that I have come up with as of now. I don't know how to end this unnecessarily long post, so I'll simple finish on a high note: Ugbo.
3 Comments:
I think that in the case of a funny name v. a funny name, everyone wins!
By Anonymous, at 1:25 PM
When I hear "motion to quash", I think of Harry Potter and Quidditch. Any similarities between the two? No, I didn't think so either. I'm not down with all the court mumbo jumbo Ugbo!
By Anonymous, at 11:27 AM
I know I'm getting in on this entry a little late, but I just thought I'd add that any two brands of male shoes put together always, without exception, sound like a court case. Observe:
"Docket number 74756, the case of Kenneth Cole v. Bruno Magli, charge is TACKINESS IN THE FIRST DEGREE!! BROWN AND BLACK, WHAT ARE YOU THINKING, SPAZ?"
It's pretty great.
By Anonymous, at 2:43 PM
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