I don’t think I have had any experience as broad as the whole of today.

This afternoon, I experienced mild panic by having slept in and needing to get to work. I only had about 45 minutes to shower, dress, and drive the 6.5 miles to work through town. I made it, but was about 2 minutes late. After I got clocked in and started, the day was easy and fast-paced. At about 3:45, a man came in and wanted me to return 2 toothbrush heads for an electric toothbrush that were $18 each without a receipt. He immediately began questioning my actions and how they were out of the ordinary. It turns out that he has attempted to do this at a large number of other stores and was again refused. His M.O. is to grab a high-ticket item from the cosmetics area and try to return it without a receipt. We have procedures in place to protect ourselves from this, but he was trying so hard… Anyway, the rest of the night at work was not even noteworthy, except for the chance to talk to my girlfriend from South Carolina.

After I clocked out and was headed home, I drove down Park Avenue, the most central east-west road in town. My intent was to stop at Subway if they were open or to stop at Wendy’s if they were not. Stopped at an intersection (which happened to be mere yards from a fire station), I heard sirens. Out of the fire station came two rescue vehicles which stopped about 50 feet on the other side of the intersection. As I approached a gas station on that side of the road to turn around, I see a rather ugly crash site. A mid-90′s Pontiac had been hit by a Blazer or other SUV. The driver of (I think) the Pontiac was lying on the ground and being examined by paramedics. I am guessing that the injuries were not life-threatening since they were not rushing treatment. After I turned around and headed
the other direction to catch a cross street, I noticed about five cars entering a parking lot for some closed businesses and turning around, headed toward the accident. Of course, these young drivers spend their late evening driving up and down the street with their cars.

The sheer idiocy of the idea boggles my mind. First of all, they basically do laps up and down the road all night, wasting gas and time to simply show off. Second, the callousness of turning back around to see the accident again is just astonishing. I had to go around a large block to get to Subway because of the accident and found out they were open. While waiting at the drive-through, I saw at least eight cars on the other side of this accident doing the same thing. I originally thought I might write an op-ed piece for the local newspaper. I came home and ate my food and connected to the Internet. Because of the thought of the newspaper, I came across the most shocking piece of news of the day for me.

At the Mansfield News Journal website, the front page had a new article, posted only hours before, about a local soldier killed in action in Iraq. As it turns out, that soldier was a classmate of my brother. They had played on the golf team together in high school. It changes your perspective when death hits home… Of course, I am quite sick of death. After seeing my mother pass away as well as my aunt, it’s about time for all that to stop. You’ll have to pardon my brief lapse into the vernacular. Anyway, I wish that there were a way to maintaim peace without putting young lives like Mr. Vandayberg’s at risk.

So through the day, I went from rushed and panicked to elated to bored to shock to anger and frustration to mild sorrow and thoughtfulness. As much as I hate the downs, I am enjoying the fact that I am starting to have emotions again. It’s been quite a while since I went through all of that in a week, much less in a day.

This week has been quite surreal for me. It’s ironic to write this today, being April Fool’s Day, but trust me when I say that this is all true. Let me explain everything from the beginning.

About three years ago, my brother was involved in a small accident. Neither party had a significant amount of damage to the car and neither party was hurt, or so we assumed. About a year and a half ago, the gentleman that my brother happened to bump sued my brother for physical injuries and emotional damages. Other details of the case are irrelevant to this story.

Fast forwarding about 11 months, I ended up receiving a summons for jury duty. At the time, I thought nothing of the date on which I was to report. Closer to the event, I realized that I was scheduled to start my service on the same day as my brother’s trial. I show up, having left about five minutes after my brother and father. I didn’t want to arrive or walk in with them, since I was a member of the jury pool. Saying nothing to anyone at the courthouse, I awaited the jury selection. After about three questions from the judge, he asked the jury pool if anyone knew any party in the case. About five of us stood up. Each of the others knew the plaintiff through his job in law enforcement. I was the last to speak, and the whole room broke out in laughter when I announced that I was actually the brother of the defendant. The trial went smoothly and lasted about a day and a half.

Now, we jump ahead to today, April 1. I arrived at the courthouse at 8:30, as instructed by the judge. Once again, the jury pool endured the selection process. Oddly enough, four of the jurors from my brother’s case were selected, along with myself, for today’s criminal trial. We then broke for lunch at about 12:30. After we arrived back, we got down to the actual trial. Opening arguments were heard from the prosecution and the defense attorney. Next, we went on a “field trip” to see locations that were relevant to our case. Upon return, we took one final break, longer than others before. After we finished our break, we returned to the jury box and awaited the first witness. No witness came, however, as the judge announced that the defendant had pleaded guilty to all charges to which he was subject. His likely sentence will be 30 years to life.

With the potential for a smooth and painless first week of jury duty, the reality was quite the opposite.