NZ: Scenes of Te Kuiti - Part 1...

On The Road: To Te Kuiti

It's amazing how you can start the day looking like this...

... And then look like this. Ah, Autmn in the
Southern Hemisphere.

Then it looks like this again. This is Hamilton, about
65 miles from Auckland. It's kinda like Mayberry,
only with a ton of coffee shops.

Just some guy doing some archery in the middle of the day.

I took this shot of these pillars in one of the large
roundabout we were trying to navigate through the
city. Did I mention this was taken at the 3rd pass
around? Yeah, getting OUT of Hamilton can be tricky
if you don't read the road signs well. Then again, I
guess Kiwis like to have their own little inside jokes.

Ah, green.

About another hour and a half later, we arrive in Te Kuiti.
Yep, it is the shearing capital of the world.

Here's another welcome sign, but it lacks the pizazz of
the other one. The former always takes the glory.

This is the B & B my Dad and I stayed at. I know, it looks
like a futuristic barn on the outside, but it really is
quite lovely and comfy.

Here's where I got to sleep. It was the worst roll-away
ever, but heck, the view and the rest of the house
really do more than make up for it.

See? Ain't it awesome? The shed to the left is the owner's
own sheep shearing shed, 'cause apparently you've GOT
to have one if you live in these parts.

Believe it or not, that lake is actually for the local water
sanitation. Yep, even the yucky get a beauty make-over.

For good dining (well, lunch anyway) in Te Kuiti, you'll look
no further than Bosco's Cafe. They've got chic' dining
with a nice outdoor-sy feel to it.

And right behind Bosco's is Brook Park, where you
can finally see some...

SHEEP!

Yep, they really do love to strike a pose!

So, let's check out the rest of the town!

Here's the main street, Rora Street.

Here's a giant statue that sits right at the end of main street.
If you still don't believe that this place is the shearing capital
of the world, the statue should clinch it for ya. It's also
a helpful place to meet, 'cause, like, there's only ONE
giant statue and if you can't find it, then something is
wrong with you.

Here's the Train Station. It's very Gary Cooper,
High Noon-ish.

This is a WWII Memorial Archway. Names of locals who
died are commemorated on plaques on either side of the
arch.

Here's the other local War Memorial. Plaques on either side
of the pillar are inscribed in both English and Maori.

Now, my father was very excited about visiting this spot.
I mean, with the words "Millenium Pavillion" you'd think
it'd be rather large, right?...

...Well, I suppose "large" is a matter of perspective.
Let's take a look inside!

I think the stained-glass rocks!

And no trip is complete without a visit to the local watering
hole, Spanky'z. They've got Karaoke Thursdays, Slot
Machines in the back room, and of course, alcohol to boot!

Mmmm... refreshing. Is it, or is it not, an alcoholic
beverage? Hmmm...

We still had just enough time in the day to stop by the
Waitomo Caves, where the famous glow-worms reside.
I'd show you pics of stalactites and stalagmites, but they
didn't allow for photography. Sorry folks, it's Wikipedia for
the lot of you!

Just a few miles away from Te Kuiti is another sleepy town,
Otorohanga. What you see here is what passes for
"fine dining" in the area, The Thirsty Weta.

Surprisingly, the food's not that bad. Then again, it's the
only bar/eatery that stays open past 9 PM in the town, so
there could be a psychological factor at play. I'd
recommend the chicken, it was nicely BBQ'ed up!

I just thought the sign looked cool. "90%" just wouldn't have
the same ring to it...

Well folks, that's it for now. Next time we'll be leaving Te Kuiti
and heading back to Auckland.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Shake, Rattle and Hum: Story 'bout an old Washing Machine...

I was doing the laundry on Saturday when I suddenly remembered something about my childhood:

I must have been 7 or 8 years old. My family had this old washer/dryer that was always on the verge of coming apart at the seams. Every time the Washer would go into the final spin cycle, it would shake, rattle and hum like an atom bomb going off inside of it. Needless to say, I saw an unconventional opportunity for adventure.

As the Dryer started to do it's "Exorcist" impersonation, I'd hop right on top of it it, holding on for dear life, as if my weight was the only thing keeping the Washer from going nuclear. Sometimes I'd pretend it was a rocket, blasting me off into the cosmos. Other times I'd be the bull rider holding on for as long as I could before the giant "Bull" would throw me off -- but it never did.

Subsequently, when my mother would find me (as my boisterous laughter always gave me away), she'd scold and yell at me only the way a real caring mother could. The thought of me flying off into a wall and injuring myself gave her grief to no end. Utilizing my budding acting talents, I'd pretend to be in such shame and humility, hanging my head low and swearing never, never, ever, to do it again...

... While secretly plotting the next time I'd get a crack at riding the "wild beast".

And Mom, don't worry. I don't ride washing machines anymore.

Just mechanical bulls... ;)

NZ: Scenes around Downtown Auckland, Queen St. - Part 1...

Scenes from Downtown Auckland, Queen St.

This is the start of Queen St. from the Harbourfront.
But first, let's check out some of the local architecture!

This building used to offer "bungy repelling" down the side
of it. Now it's Ad space for rent.

I love the shiny reflective building on the left.
Reminds me of a tube of a lipstick.

Can you spot the hidden advertisement?
Hint: it's an ad for coffee...

The Vero building on the right has this piece
that sits on the top of the building which looks like a
giant toilet seat. We'll revisit this later...

Hmmm... random graffiti or is there a method to the
madness? You decide...

Ah, my hero.

This bungy ride is a contraption that launches you up
in the air via a circular roll cage. It's usually more
popular in the summer.

Men at work #1.

One of the popular Four-Way Pedestrian Walks.

I'll be back later to figure out what's gonna be built here.
Should be completed by Jan. 2008.

Men at work #2.

All along Queen St., they're renovating the sidewalks to
house planted trees that will be irrigated by waterways
below. It will be finished later this year, and I'll be back
to see the difference the trees make.

More pics around Auckland, Mission Bay, etc... in a bit,
Next Up: Road Trip pics!

TO BE CONTINUED...

NZ: Scenes around the Viaduct Harbourfront...

The Viaduct and Harbourfront

Just a little after sunrise...

... and a few hours into the morning.

Believe it or not, this is a life-size replica of a
Princess Cruise ship done up as a dry docked hotel.

There's where the Bow would be.

A replica of the NZ yacht that won the America's Cup.

Harbourfront Customs House (I think)...

Here's where the Auckland bus depot resides, right at
the end of the Viaduct.

Twilight at the Harbourfront, such hustle and bustle...

TO BE CONTINUED...

Almost There... (senryu)

Head is throbbing less,
nose is almost clear again --
"Wellville" up ahead...

Hard-Fast Rules of Air Travel... (senryu)

Fasten your seat belt...

...Stow your tray during takeoff --

Have a pleasant flight.

Jury Duty: Flashback 5 - All Is Said, All Is Done (Conclusion)...

***NOTE: Sorry, this is gonna seem a bit rushed, but I'm pressed for time and didn't want to leave everyone hanging while I left on holiday. More on that in a bit... ***

Recap:

-The Daughter testifies, claiming her father threw the glass into the fire; subsequently, the glass ricocheted and hit her mother. Defense portrays the incident as an "accident".
-Closing Arguments are made, the jury is sent to Deliberate

It was like trying to put together a puzzle with various pieces missing at the end.

Fact: Mr. S and Mrs. S had an argument
Fact: A glass was thrown by Mr. S, and his wife got hurt

Only one questioned remained: Did Mr. S do it on purpose?

Deliberations lasted about a total of 3 1/2 hours. The vote swung far and wide, and only finally narrowed in the last half hour.

It's hard enough deciding on only one count of assault, but the 2nd count of "willful intent" was the real hanging chad.

We wished the police took that little extra moment to pick up the glass, and had a better account of the answers given by Mrs. S.

We wished that more forensics was done so that we wouldn't have to be left to our own devices and interpretation.

We wished that testimony from one didn't seem to cancel out the other.

Seldom are wishes granted the way we want.

Alas, absolution never came. The jury was hung.

The final vote was 10-2, in favor of Guilty. But since it was all or nothing, a mistrial was declared.

No one seemed surprised or relieved at the events, and sadly, it seemed like just another day in the Justice system for the civil servants of the courtroom. Papers were shuffled and stamped, The Judge dismissed us, and another case was gearing up.

I'd still like to talk about how we arrived to the decision we made, so I'll save that for when I return... ;)

Jury Duty: Flashback 4 - Nothing Left To Do But Go All In...

Recap:

-Defense and Mrs. S don't refute the fact that Mr. S threw a glass at his wife - only Mrs. S now claims that it was an "accident"
-Two officers testify that the couple never mentioned the incident as an "accident" in either of their formal statements

I remember getting to court early the next morning. In fact, a lot of my brethren had. Looks like I wasn't the only juror anxious to pick up where we left off .

We'd see other jurors we recognized from our initial selection pool walking to their courtrooms. I nodded to a few people I remembered, and they'd nod back. It was the way of things.

I'll admit that I was starting to get a little "trial envy" as our case wore on. It seemed like every case on our floor was going into "plea bargaining" mode -- attorneys ushered their clients out, told them they should cop a plea, and most were willing to do it in a heartbeat! Cases were closing left and right, jurors excused for their services and sent off on their way.

Except ours. But I guess that's just the way of things.

The Daughter got up on the witness stand, her body language mimicking that of her mothers'. She didn't seem as nervous, but she wasn't all that relaxed either.

Defense starts questioning. The Daughter says that she was sitting next to her father when he threw the glass into the fire. The Daughter places her father about 5 ft. from the fire with her mother on the other side of the flames. She says she watched the glass fly into the logs, shattering. The next thing she knew, her mother's face was bleeding badly. Defense rests, and all now seems to be pointing towards this being an "accident."

Prosecution cross-examined, though only determined that the only person The Daughter told about the glass flying up from the ground was the Doctor on call. When asked why her statement was never taken that night, she replied that she was just "too hysterical" to talk with anyone, let alone the police. She too did "not want to see her father in trouble."
Prosecution rests.

The Closing Arguments from both attorneys played out like all "Law and Order" episodes do -- Prosecution believes their case to be solid, with evidence and testimony making it clear that Mr. S should be punished for what he did. Defense counters that too many assumptions were made and the police work was less than thorough, so much so that we should find Mr. S innocent from the willful intent to assault his wife.

After the rules and instructions were read, the 12 of us were ushered into a room to decide the man's fate.

It became clear real quick that Deliberations weren't going to be a walk in the park.

We were so far from "open and shut" that we needed to hitchhike just to get back onto the main road, called "verdict"...

TO BE CONTINUED... ;)

Jury Duty: Flashback 3 - Who To Believe?...

Recap:

-Trial has begun, attorneys start with Opening Statements
-This turns out to be a case of Spousal Abuse, but belies the complexity that lies within the case
-Mrs. S takes the stand


Mrs. S walks up to the witness stand. Her stride is filled with nervous energy with nowhere to go. She fidgets in her chair before being sworn in.

Prosecution launches into their questions. At the time of the incident, she admitted that she and her husband were both drunk. Her husband did throw a glass at her, most likely sparked by the argument they had. Mrs. S continued to live with her husband 4 months after the incident, and said she "does not want to see him get in trouble."

Defense's turn. They establish that the events that took place prior to the incident were the same, but the way it ultimately played out differed. Defense asks where in relation Mr. S was to Mrs. S at the time of the throw. Mrs. S says she was 10 ft. away from her husband. This time she says that she was NOT hit "directly" by the glass. Mr. S had thrown the glass, but it was directed toward a bonfire that was lit in their backyard. The glass had "ricocheted" from the cement ground, and a piece of it had flown right at her face. She didn't see the glass coming 'cause she was talking to her niece at the time of impact. Defense goes further and asks if this was an "accident."

"Yes," she says.

Defense has no further questions. Prosecution rockets up and out of their chair, not looking pleased at all.

"So, TODAY you're saying that this was an ACCIDENT?," asks the Prosecution.

"Yes," Mrs. S replies again.

Prosecution goes on to call in two officers to testify. The first was one of the arresting officers (A Caucasian fluent in Spanish) from that night. He testified that while taking Ms. S's statement, she had told him that her husband threw a glass at her, but at no time did she mention the word "accident" in her statement. Furthermore, Mr. S had signed a statement - a form that was written in Spanish - attesting to the fact that he did throw a glass at his wife. He did not write down that it was accident on his written statement.

Defense was curious as to why no one thought to look for the glass in question. "Since the story of the event had been fully corroborated by both parties, it was deemed unnecessary," the officer said.

Yeah, we could have really used that glass.

The second officer was a native Spanish-Speaker. He had called up Mrs. S the next day, asking her about the incident over a phone interview. Once again, Mrs. S told the police that her husband threw the glass at her, but did not mention it was an accident. So after 24 hours, she had not changed her statement.

Defense asked if there was a record of the questions and answers that the officer received from Mrs. S, and of course, there was NONE. The only record to prove that the officer called at all is a Log Report that showed he did call Mrs. S and ask the follow-up questions.

Facts and testimony flew fast and furious around the courtroom that afternoon. My pencil was worn down to a nub by the end of the day.

When we finally walked out of the courtroom, Mr. S was sitting between his wife and daughter, holding their hands tightly, his eyes pleading to the jurors.

Too many pieces weren't making sense or adding up - or we just didn't like the way things were adding up towards.

Only one more testimony to go, and we were all curious to hear what their Daughter had to say.

TO BE CONTINUED... ;)

Jury Duty: Flashback 2 - Laying Out The Cards...

Quick Recap:

-Prosecution and Defense are happy with their jury until a juror stops the swearing in and is excused due to language difficulties, subsequently followed by another juror pleading the same problem
-Of all the jurors in all the world, I am picked in the strangest case of happenstance I've ever encountered in a courtroom

Returning from our lunch break, I had no time to stay stunned at the turn of events that had placed me in the jury box. The lawyers lay out all the cards:

A man is on trial for committing Spousal Abuse.

Okay, let me stop for a moment -- I bet you're probably having thoughts somewhere along the lines of "wife beater", "assault and battery", and "repeated abuse" -- am I on the right track? At least, this is what I first thought until I heard what happened:

In the early morning hours of New Year's Day 2007, a heated argument occurred between Mr. S and his wife Mrs. S., both of whom were intoxicated at the time. Mrs. S had allegedly "disrespected" Mr. S in front of their friends and family gathered at their backyard. Mr. S lost his temper and out of sheer anger, threw a drinking glass at Mrs. S, causing a 4 inch laceration to the left side of her face, only inches away from her eye.

Prosecution was going for two counts -- I. Assault with a deadly weapon, and II. Assault with willful intent to harm someone, in this case, a Spouse. Guilty on both counts was their main endgame.

Defense was going to prove that "willful intent" was NOT apparent, with help from testimony given by their daughter who was present at the time the event took place. Therefore, a Not Guilty verdict was only one "reasonable doubt" away.

Open and shut case, right? Something in my gut told me that this was definitely going to be a long walk down a road of gray. I began scribbling in my notepad, listening with ears pitched forward to the first witness: Mrs. S.

TO BE CONTINUED... ;)

Jury Duty: Flashback 1 - I should have bought a Lotto that week...

In case you missed it, here's a quick recap on what happened at the beginning:

-I passed through 4 rounds of Jury Group Selection, and at the last possible moment, got called up in the 2nd to the last group of the day
-Got into the courtroom, dismissed 3 jurors, but because I was still in the next group, had to come back to court the following day

Day 2. I lay low into my seat, silently hoping that I wouldn't get picked in the next draw. Only 4 spots left -- two for the Final jury, and two alternates.

The Secretary yells out a few numbers - yes, just like inmates, we're now only referred to by our badge numbers (though I'm sure it's mostly for security and anonymity purposes - note the tinge of sarcasm). 6 people get called up, and I am not one of them. A little reprieve, I think it myself as I take in a breath slowly.

One by one, The Prosecutor scrutinizes each candidate - What do you do? Do you have any biases? Any friends in law enforcement? - that sort of thing. I can feel myself zoning out, but I know I should stay focused.

When the Prosecutor finishes, she only dismisses 2 people from that pick, which means the 4 were locked in.

Or so I thought.

What I forgot to take into consideration are the peremptory challenges that Prosecution and Defense gets. These are basically motions to dismiss perspective jurors with little or no reason as to why - they are simply thanked and excused. The Defense had no challenges of the jury, but Prosecution starts weeding out candidates left and right.

The spot for Juror #8 was taken and vacated 4 times in a row. That means my odds of getting picked were increasing by the minute. By the time Prosecution got done, they had widdled our group down to the last 15 perspective jurors. If I am in the 3rd group in selection, and each group starts with 24, that means that the court has already dismissed over 36 jurors, give or take.

I mean, what kind of case WAS this? Were the stakes for the Prosecution THAT HIGH?

Another group is selected and vetted. Defense has no challenges. Prosecution has no challenges. I am one step closer to finishing my service. I hold my breath as the Judge orders the jurors and the alternates to rise.

The Secretary goes, "Please raise your right hand --"

"Your Honor, WAIT!"

A lone voice from the jury box calls out. Everyone freezes.

All eyes fixate on Juror #7, who has his hand raised. He's a middle-aged Asian man, with an accent of broken English that can be heard a mile away. "I'm sorry, but I was called last minute, and... I only understand 70% of what going on," he says softly.

Oh, shit.

A sidebar is called immediately. The Judge, Attorneys and Juror #7 excuse themselves from the court for a few minutes. People look around, bewilderment on their faces, wondering if this is really happening.

I am wondering if this is really happening.

When they return, Juror #7 is immediately excused for having language difficulties. But as he walked out, a little grin belayed on his lips. I think he just got away with swallowing the canary.

As if that wasn't enough, soon after he left, Juror #5 raised her hand - this time a middle-aged Asian lady - pleaded the EXACT SAME THING! Was this a tactic for getting out of jury duty or what? The Judge dismissed her after she claimed to have language difficulties. Juror #5 walked out of the court, but she had a more sullen expression on her face. I think she wanted to do her duty but in all honesty couldn't. Made me feel like she was telling the truth, at least.

So, after 11 rounds of selection, another round began to replace those last two spots, and guess who's number finally came up?

Not only did I become Juror #7, but ANOTHER Asian lady took Juror #5's place as well! It was like some sort of "entropy of Asians" -- we were slotted in to keep the balance of the legal universe intact among this multi-ethnic jury.

Our vetting took no time at all. Seeing that the trial really needed to hit the pavement, everything after that took off like a rocket blasting off into space. Getting sworn in was all a blur, the Juror duties were speed-read to us, and then we broke for a two hour lunch.

And this was only the beginning.

TO BE CONTINUED... ;)

Easter Sunday: Birthday Song and Expletives...

**Before I get into the Jury blogs, just wanted to share this little story that I saw unfold for Easter.**

I was out having dinner at this restaurant for Easter Sunday, when across from me sat a table with a family of 6 - Mother, Father, and their 4 kids - two young daughters, two young sons (range about 4-7 years old). One of the little boys tells their nice waitress that "it's my brother's birthday."

I can feel the waitress' eyes secretly roll as she knows what she now has to do. Like a seasoned platoon leader, she stealthily gives hand signals to the other waitstaff, letting them no to get their best "fake on" for the birthday song they need to sing for the BILLIONTH time this shift.

Of course, in typical cluster-fucked fashion, the first time the waitress gathers the crew and the free dessert (Mud Pie for this occasion), the birthday boy is nowhere to be found. The waitress has the "I swear he was here a minute ago" look on her tired face. The mother plays the apologetic card. "I'm sorry, he ran off with his brother a minute ago. They'll be right back, " she says. The waitstaff scatter back to their respective tables, and the waitress tosses the dessert somewhere.

The birthday boy and his little brother appear a few minutes later. Unfortunately, the waitress can't seem to remember where she put the dessert, and the rest of the crew are still waiting their tables. By the time she finds the Mud Pie and gets everyone from their sections, the kid is gone again. The mother goes ,"I'm so sorry, his father took him to the bathroom. He'll be right back." This is when I overhear a waiter mutter, "Christ, where the FUCK is this kid"!! Though a collective groan didn't occur, you could still feel it wafting in the air.

This is clearly getting out of hand. I watch the waitstaff eyeing the family, waiting for the little boy's return so they can get this show on the freakin' road.

When the kid FINALLY sits down, the waitstaff ambush him like a pack of hungry Hyenas. Waiters are actually taking off in mid-order from their tables to sing to the little boy. The waitress makes direct eye contact with the mother, as if to say "For the love of God lady, could you have made this ANY harder"?

The waitstaff sing with the the biggest shit eating grins I've ever seen! Not only that, but they are singing the Birthday song at 5x times the usual speed so it sounds like Alvin and Chipmunks -- kinda like ripping-a-band-aid-off-real-quick kind of mentality. I don't think the parents could tell -- they were too mesmerized by their kids clapping along with the waitstaff, and happy kids are a good distraction. As the song ends, the family digs into their now half-melted Mud Pie. The crew scatters back to their respective sections. Anger at having to go through with this ritual has subsided, even by the waiter who swore under his breath.

You'd think all this song and dance would be worth the effort, but funny thing was, the birthday boy himself didn't really seem to care! Looked like his family was getting most of the joy out of it completely. I think he was just happy to be having chocolate cake and ice cream.

It appeared that this wasn't going to be the only birthday party that night. I could see the crew saving their strength and keeping their palms relaxed -- no telling when the next clapping-birthday-sing-a-long was gonna pop up next... ;)

Jury Duty: Day 4 - Closure Is At Hand, Right?...

It's finally over.

All is said, all is done.

I tossed my badge ID into a pile started by my fellow jurors, then grabbed my Certification of Service from the female clerk. She did not smile nor nod. I was just part of her daily routine.

That certificate wasn't just a piece of paper. I was holding 4 days of my life in my hands, ever so gently. 4 days that will linger in my mind for awhile.

I'm glad to have done my duty, but still sad at the outcome. Some of the rookie jurors wondered what was gonna happen next to the defendants.

Me? I try not to think about it. 'Cause that ain't my job anymore...

**I'm pretty beat. I'm gonna adjourn for now, but I'll be back with the story and let you decide whether or not fate played a part in all this... ;)

Jury Duty: Day 3 - A Walk Through Shades of Grey...

I wish I could say that this was easy, but it's not.

I wish that forethought was stronger than hindsight, but it's not.

I wish the grey was a little less grey, but it's not.

I want to do a good job, but at what cost?

Gee, can I BE any more vague?

Okay, here's something I can talk about -- getting my ticket validated each day has become quite a mission unto itself. It's all about timing: If you get to court too early, the hand stamp is not let out. If you get there too late, the stamp is locked in the office. Today, the clerk was keeping it in her clutches with a Kung-Fu grip, for reasons I can't explain other than the stamp has started to become a symbol of control, and we are the underlings under her furtive rule.

In the end, we wrestled the Parking stamp from her clutches, and the mob and I stamped our tickets with glee. The new jurors looked at us in horror, for our sheer audacity to commit such an act, but hey, we're jurors on a case. We don't have time to fool around. Not today.

When will I be able to talk about all this? What will we have for lunch tomorrow? And how will we get the parking stamp out of the clutches of the Dragon Lady tomorrow?

To Be Continued... ;)

Jury Duty: Day 2 - Expecting The Unexpected, Unexpectedly...

**Hey kiddies! Another shorty entry, 'cause that's just the way things are. But don't worry, details will be revealed... **


Well, I must be lucky.

Or cursed.

I'm on a case, but I can't talk about it yet.

The story of how I got to where I'm at is so unbelievable It feels straight out of a John Grisham
novel.

So, what happened you ask? And who is this juror I keep running into? And will I get my parking structure ticket validated in time tomorrow?

To be continued... ;)

Jury Duty: Day 1 - How To Widdle Time...

**Forgive me, I'm tired from sitting and waiting all day, so this will only be about 70% entertaining**

You can do a whole lot of nothing in 8 hours.

You can talk to your fellow jurors. Or endure a Chatty-Cathy or Talky-Tom who just won't shut up cause they have so much nervous energy they need to pass that along to everyone within earshot.

One woman even brought in her knitting bag -- she was almost done with a beautiful yellow scarf before the end of the day.

Some people, like me, took tiny naps, like we were stuck at an airport transit lounge waiting for our flight to be called. Not knowing when you're picked can make you a little jumpy as the day wears on.

Reading was a popular activity - I swear, one guy started and finished two novelas. I barely got through two magazines - G.I. JOB, and Downtown. Both had some suprisingly good articles.

The internet was available for a fee, but since most people didn't know when they'd get called up, most passed on that little novelty.

TV was a neat little diversion. It's been awhile since I've watched the Price is Right, One Life to Live and Oprah all in the same day. And for some reason I never noticed that Harpo, Oprah's production company, is her name backwards. What a crazy world.

Yours truly was in the final stretch of the last hour - when I got called into the 2nd to the last selection group of the day.

Let's just say that I'm not even at the point where they're asking me background questions yet. I'm a considered candidate juror for jury selection in the 4th round of jury trial selection.

I have to go back tomorrow. Will I be selected on the case tomorrow? Will my 4th jury experience come to a crashing halt? And will I be able to find the stamper to validate my parking in time?

To Be Continued... ;)

Ghiaccio Italiano...

I fell in love with
Italian Ice when I was
10 years old - lemon,
I think it was

I was at a carnival -
the day was hot, but the
ice cooled my tongue, keeping
my smile on all day --

Years later, I tried making
it at home, and though it
was tasty, it just wasn't
the same, not even a little...

Churro... (aintu)

When I
was a kid, a
Churro meant joy, sweetness,
and love all rolled up in a neat
treat - funny how some things
remain the same,
to me...

Ice Tray...

You found it sooo funny
to swap the water out
of my ice trays with
vodka, and my vodka
bottle with water --

To which I'd curiously
find myself intoxicated
by ice cold lemonade,
while curiously quenched
on straight shots --

Yeah, real funny,
But then again, I'm not
all that mad...

Gracias...

"Hola, Senor,"
said the busboy, as
he placed a glass of
water in front of me

"Thank you," I muttered,
"De nada" he replied --
as he left, I wondered
why I did not truly...

...habla.

Conversations in Air Freight: How Can We Help You?...

The following is another true-to-life conversation I had with an automated voice system for a courier company I was trying to send a package with, and later, how I got to speak with a real life person:

RING!!!

Welcome to Ship-Stuff Express... How can we help you?... For rates, say "rates".

Rates.

Okay, one moment please... Please say the number in pounds of the weight of your package?

30.

...What is the 5-digit zip code that you are sending the package from?

90045.

What is the 5-digit zip code of the destination you are sending the package to? If not in the U.S., say "International Shipment".

International shipment.

Thank you. Please say the name of the country you are sending the package to.

Trinidad.

I heard you say "Canada". Is this correct? If not, say "Go Back".

Go back.

Please say the name of the country you are sending the package to.

Trinidad.

I'm sorry, I didn't understand that. Could you please repeat the name of the country in which you'd like to send your package?

Trinidad!

I heard you say "Thailand". Is this correct? If not, say "Go Back".

Go back!

Please say the name of the country you are sending the package to.

Trinidad!!!

I'm sorry, I didn't understand that... If you'd like to speak with a Representative, please press "zero".

BEEP! (Me pressing zero)

Minutes later, a Representative comes on the line:

Hello, this is Ship-Stuff Express, how may I help you?

Yes, I'd like the rate for a package I'm sending here in North America to Trinidad.

Okay, I can help you with that sir. What is weight of your package?

30 lbs.

And the zip code of where this package is starting from?

90045.

And what city in "Israel" is this package going to?

Arghhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!

CLICK!

Under, Garments...

Sexy is not
the black Frederick's
thong that hugs across
your bottom with a tight
pull

Sexy is not
the red Victoria's Secret
teddy you wore with
one strap off your
shoulder

Sexy is not
the Agent Provocateur
bra you insist on
teasing me with before
bedtime

Sexy is...
your Scooby-Doo
underoos that say,
"I am woman, but always
playful" --

And that's how I know
this, is for real...

Something an Idiot Might Say: At A Fancy Restaurant...

I ordered the lobster a la carte 'cause I heard that means they take the meat out of the shell for you...

Acetic...

It's hard to tell
what I found
more unpleasant --

The taste of a
sour green apple as
I bite into it,

Or you telling me
"We're through," while
I chew sour apple chunks...

After Dinner Hindsight...(senryu)

No room for dessert,
yeah, poor planning on my part --
next time, Pecan Pie...

What Constitutes Something You Didn't Know You Needed...

On Saturday, I was out shopping at one of those gigantic electronics stores when I walked past the dreaded "impulse buy" items, brilliantly displayed in all their "You Sooooo Need To Buy Me" glory.

M&Ms, Snickers, USB Flashdrives, CD Players, Blanks CDs and DVDs were splayed out all the way to the checkout line -- as if you could in fact buy EVERYTHING you needed without actually having to walk INSIDE the rest of the store.

Of course, not only do they attack you in the line, but they've even got one item that sits on the checkout counter. It's like, "In case you didn't know you needed all the other plethora of items, this one you CAN'T leave the store without!"

Mine happened to be the one displaying Nose Hair Trimmers.

Nope, not a typo -- NOSE HAIR TRIMMERS! Those little electric trimmers that cut down the rain forest of follicles residing primarily in male nostrils. Someone at the Corporate Office must be thinking, "Gentleman, men are DEMANDING nose hair trimmers at an alarming rate, and we gotta help them out now! - whether they know they need them or not."

Now, I've never had a strong urge to buy a nose hair trimmer, nor have I had any buddies that have said, "Gee, I really wish there were electric nose hair trimmers at checkout so I could buy it with my Mountain Dew and GRAB BAG of Doritos." In fact, I don't think I have any male friends that have ever admitted to owning one - and if they did, they aren't telling the whole world their business.

This would explain why the trimmers were still fully stocked on each counter that had them. They also placed them with all the really cute female cashiers, so that had probably made the male customers a bit self-conscious in wanting to purchase one - gee, I wonder why? Not to say it wouldn't feel weird if buying them from a male cashier, but hey - we are strangely macho like that...

I do applaud the forward thinking that's gone along with this bold choice in impulse buy. No longer will the nose hair trimmer be subjugated in the back along with Schick razors and Nair hair remover - no, it will not be ignored any longer. Who knows? The follicle-free male nose could be the modern day counterpart to the female's "Brazilian". And if that day has come, I know at least one store that's ready for the trend... ;)

Imminent Breach...

The first fence you put up,
I jumped across easily, but
found myself denied

The second was made of
concrete and razor wire,
I got through, but denied

The third had searchlights
and Rottweilers biting at my
shoes - I made it, but denied

The fourth was tall enough
to block out the sun, so I dug
underneath, surfaced - but denied

If you don't get it by now,
your walls can keep me out -
but my spirit...

...Won't be denied.

Ginger, or Mary Ann...

Some want the woman
with the heat-vision
gaze, the hypnotizing
thighs, and sultry voice that
causes you to wrap around
her finger, obeying her
every whim

But some want the woman
with the kind eyes and
gentle smile, who listens
to your worry-woes,
laughs at your quirky
jokes while radiating
Southern hospitality --

Who to choose is quite
a deft conundrum -
but for some,
the choice is
completely
obvious...

Comfort Zone...

Straying all but briefly
away from my space,
I squirm at the chit-chat
made by wannabe-fashionistas
spouting "green is the new black!,"
while others gather around
professing the brilliance of
Reality TV and how it's
more real than "REAL" --

Give me a pub with
sloppy barstools, a couple
of old tales flung around
in beer-buzzed tones,
and my best mates to share
this all with - all while eating
hot wings drenched in
super-thick Ranch dip --
Any day...

Diversions in Relativity...

"Just 5 more minutes, Dear!"
Albert would yell, while he
scribbled into his notebook

"Your dinner is getting cold!"
Mileva always replied, in a tone
of love mixed with exasperation --

Makes one wonder if any of
our hobbies could, in fact,
change the world someday...

Conversations in Air Freight: Why Do You Need to Know That?

The following is a real customer call I took. Only some of the names and parties have been changed to protect their stupidity.

RING!!!

Hello?

Yes, I'm with Company X.

Okay. What can I do for you?

(pause)
Yeah, I guess I'd like to... schedule a pickup?

Not a problem. I can send a driver out to you. What are we picking up?

Um... some boxes?

All right. Where are they going?

(pause)
Excuse me?

Where would you like us to send the materials?

Ummm...

Do you know what country they're going?

(pause, faint sound of head scratching)
Why do you need to know that?

So... I know WHERE I'm supposed to send the boxes.

Can't you just pick them up first?

Yes, I could do that. But if I know where the boxes are going, then I can figure out if there's a flight for them today - if not, I don't have to rush my guy out to you and we can just pick them up tomorrow.

But... I'm just calling you guys to pick the boxes up.

I understand that. But my driver is spread out a bit thin today, and if he doesn't have to make an extra stop, that's all the better.

So, you aren't gonna pick my boxes up?

Again, I'm not saying that. It'd just be helpful to know the destination so we can determine the logistics and start on the paperwork. It's gonna take time to process, and the more information we have, the better we can help you out.

Man, why are you being so difficult!

Sir, honestly, I'm not trying to give you a hard time --

It sure feels like it! I was just told to give you guys a call to pick up some boxes!

Okay. Is there anyone there that knows where the boxes are supposed to be sent?

Ummm...

Anyone at all?

Uh...

If you don't know, just tell me.

Ummm...

Hello? Are you still there?

I'm gonna... have to call you back.

CLICK.

Argh.

Immaculate Reception...

Never in my wildest dreams
did I ever expect to find
myself standing in my
birthday suit - with you
in much the same attire -
awkwardly greeting your
father with little more than
one hand covering my shame
while extending the other
to shake his hand --
He grinned, which I took
for a sign that he knew
we weren't, in fact,
studying chemistry
so much as we were
performing it --
his grip spoke volumes
on trust: lucky for him,
it was not misplaced...

My Father's Sacrifice (Don't worry, it's funny)...

Last night, while riding in the car with my Mother and Father:

ZRRRRROOOOM!

Did you see that?

Dad, that guy just totally cut you off!

I hope he gets into an accident. He deserves it for driving like that.

Easy there. Don't you think you're being a bit hard on him?

No. That guy was crazy!

But still...

You know what? That's what I'm gonna give up for Lent.

What are you giving up?

I'm giving up being a nice guy.

Huh?

You heard me! I'm gonna be a jerk for 40 days!

That doesn't make any sense at all! How do you reason this?

Well, most of the year people are jerks and they're only nice during Lent. So I'm gonna do the opposite and be a jerk for them. It will help to balance out the universe - for the lack of jerks during Lent.

You've gotta be kidding me!

You think being an asshole is easy? It takes A LOT of work! So... I'll be like a "reverse martyr". I think I can do it.

So basically, you're going to sacrifice kindness in all its forms?

Yes.

Hey - can I borrow 20 bucks?

No!

Ah, it's starting already...

***And then we all got into a funny conversation about the Chinese and how they confuse the word "intercourse" instead of using "discussion" and how hilarious that usually turns out - but alas, that's another story entirely...;)***

Jonesing...

Particularly on a cold day,
underneath layers, comforters,
Something stirs within my thoughts -
satisfying sensations for moist warmth are
Yearning for me to feed, the beast within...

Oxymoronic Courtship...

It may be you that
I seek, yet it is
your voice that
keeps me yearning,

Alas, I wish never to
run into you, for if I did,
I'd fear you'd disdain me
like grits on burnt toast -
but ironically, no less
tasteful --

Funny,
I'd thought that
it'd be much easier
to say hello, yet I
already start with
goodbye...

Over The Speed Limit...

Ohmygod
Ohmygod
Ohmygod
I could run for days
for miles
for hours
forever -
no wait,
I want to
clean the house
buy a couch
scrub the tub
get some Altoids
read "War AND Peace"--
WHOA!
Did you hear that?
What was that?
That noise?
You DOn't hear ThaT?
It's RINGING!!!!
RIIIING!!!
I'm not Crazy!
You're cRAZY!!

I...
i...
... just need to
take my skin OFF
and I'll be...

... finE.

Comfort, Foods...

You made me mac'n cheese
when I fell off my bike,
skinning my knee

You made me lasagna
when I lost my final
tennis match in La Habra

You baked me a custard
when I didn't get
accepted to Harvard

My belly was full and snug -
though all I really
craved for was a hug...

Silly Candy...(senryu)

Jolly Ranchers are
neither "jolly" nor "rancher" --
but they are, "tasty"...

An Arrogant Wanker's Honest Thought Bubble...

Privacy rarely exists in
a life lived in a comic strip,
Where your most passive
thoughts and outrageous ideas
are displayed in all its minutiae --
Glad my musings aren't billboarded
in plain view, for I have heard that
uncensored slips of my misplaced,
misogynistic humor and some-time
outright stupidity would mistakenly
make for a distasteful,
and undoubtedly,
low rated cartoon...

Home...

There are those that
define a homes as having
walls,
windows,
pictures,
furniture and or
a fireplace

But home to me
are your
open arms,
sweet smile,
the smell of your
unkempt hair - you are
the home my peace resides...

Sense-Symphonic...

The sun will feel
warm on my face,

placid lakes I see
remain so calm,

the coffee I smell
is strong and inviting,

blueberries I taste
are sweet as can be,

the birds I hear
will sing as melodic --

With you in the picture,
my senses collide symphonically

where everything I knew
feels new again, and so much...

...more Alive.

Valentine's Day, served 21st Century Senryu style...

Cupid, strike me down!

With laser-guided arrows --

No way you can miss!!!

**Big thanks and SUPER WINKS ;) to those that sent me e-cards and special notes this year - Loved every one of them! And may we all appreciate those we love - today, each day, and the tomorrows to come... P.S. I'm feeling particularly festive, so I might post more than once today, so I'll catch ya'll later... ;)**

Mixing Prose With Cons...

He's a great listener,
but easily distracted

She's great in bed,
but can't make one at all

He's caring and loving,
yet short-tempered while driving

She can cook a meal,
though it tastes god-awful

He's got a great memory -
just not for anniversaries

She can't make up her mind,
except about her career

He can be a bit lazy,
but he'll still run her errands

She can be a real bitch,
but only 'cause of biology --

Add up the total, you still get
the makings of chaotic harmony...

Cheaper Than a Real Repair-Man...

Either out of love or something resembling guilt, I usually visit my 'ol grandmother once a month on a Saturday to help her out with her technical woes i.e. cable TV problems, Internet, etc.. There was one visit that seemed to domino out-of-control that happened a few months back.

First she told me that there was something wrong with her VCR. This ended up being a very straight-forward problem with what I thought would be a simple explanation:

"See, what you did was press the wrong button on the wrong remote. You want to use the VCR remote first. If you change the channel from 3 to L1, you can then get the signal to the DVD player, and you can watch DVDs. Okay? So don't touch that remote (the DVD player's) until you use the VCR Remote, change it to L1 and you should be all set? Got it?"

She smiles and replies, "Okay."

But I know things aren't okay yet.

After a brief pause, she goes, "Now, can you explain that one more time?"

This is hard enough doing this in English, but to translate all these instructions to Cantonese and demonstrate one button at a time on every single remote is downright "punji-stick into the fingernails" painful.

But I love her, and calmly keep my cool while repeating the steps about 5 more times. Oh, why not just get a switcher box for her, you may ask? Uh, yeah - had a tough time getting her to work with that before, so that option was exhausted eons ago.

Next up was her connection to the Internet. She kind of sprung this one on me by surprise, but hey, what's life without a bit of the unexpected? She still uses dial-up, and for some reason, her connection just couldn't be completed. After ruling out line failure, cable failure, and performing a voo-doo cleansing ceremony on the PC Box, I was still nowhere near a solution.

An hour later, it hit me - her program was requiring an area code number to be inputted first in order for the dial connection to be correct. LA is famous for expanding area codes all the time, and I thought the computer compensated for it, but it didn't. So a few magic keystrokes later, and voila! She was surfing the net at a lightning fast 48k! Woo-Hoo!

After a successful visit whereby all her woes are solved, she usually pays me with freshly cut fruit to eat. That day it was Asian pears. All and all, it was totally worth it... ;)

Conversations in Air Freight: If You'll Just Let Me Explain...

The following is a real customer call I had a few months back. Only some of the names and parties have been changed to protect their stupidity.

RING!!!

Hello?

Hi, this is Albert. I'm the one working on your cargo shipment.

Yes?

I just wanted to let you know that there's a slight problem with your shipping method.

What about it?

You see, Courier X --

What's wrong with using Courier X?

Oh, nothing, it's just that --

Well, then that's the method I want to use.

But you see, I'm calling because I wanted to let you know Courier X--

If you're going to convince me to use something else, I'm not going to.

If you'll just let me explain --

My client has requested this carrier, and unless Courier X closes down tomorrow, we would like you to expedite --

All right, I understand, but let me just say that you marked down Courier X in the request, and we will expedite with this carrier.

So what is it then?

You had marked down Courier X Ground Service. To Ecuador.

I see.

*And since there is no interstate highway route that connects to South America, I am going to change your request to show Air Express so that it can travel there by plane. Which fly high up in the sky. And don't require roads.

So I thought I'd just give you a heads up, and I'll be able to get that shipment out this afternoon.

That's fine. Thank you.

No problem.

CLICK.

*Yeah, that's what I really wanted to say, but hey, I didn't feel like getting fired that day... ;)

Ruler...

Quite a task to measure up
to your requirements - does my
kindness add to my height in
your view? Or am I subtracted
by my lack of hindsight?

I struggle on a straight-edged
path for your attention, though only
rewarded by centimetered steps
that show me inching close, but
never within the last few yards of you...

Lazy Angelenos...(senryu)

"I can walk from here."

"Let me drive you to your car."

"That is sooooo L.A.!"

Never Saw It Coming...

We met most innocently enough -
a chit-chat leading to debates about
whether free verse is writ while
freebasing or simply the mind firing
neurons in a chaotic diaspora of energy

Our thoughts would collide - causing
some works of wild inspiration,
though mostly things that'd make us giggle
at the absurdity of others taking us
so staunchly serious over our ill-iteratures

Pretty soon we were one and the same -
different but whole in the pie that is
this crazy bohemia, where no suggestions
were too taboo, no subject too dark nor light
to put ourselves out there with

Then, it happend --

One day, I stepped out on the stage of
influxed thought, while you went backstage,
then out the alley before finally disappearing
off into the night on your bike, leaving a water
trail from the puddles in the street

The show must go on -- I grab the mike
and holler to the crowd that will listen,
making them laugh and cry to make me
feel the same -- I still leave a space
for you, in lieu of your return...

...But I'm sure our warranty has expired.

When The Earth, Moves...

I can easily blame a
seismic shift beneath my feet
for causing me to bump
into you, ever so slightly --
though stable ground
is what I seek most of the time,
I make no apologies
for such forces at work that
would cause our acquaintance --
for who am I to argue that
this was not planned
from before time began?

My Favorite Super Bowl XLI Moment...

It wasn't the game.

It wasn't even the commercials.

It was when my mother and I both sang along to Prince's "Lets Go Crazy" during his Halftime performance.

Man, my mom is hip! Or we're just really cool squares... ;)

My TV P.O.V.'s: We Hardly Knew Ya... But Glad We Did

A question was posted at my site last week that asked why some good shows just never seem to take off. In my opinion, Firefly was one of those shows, and Mr. Whedon, I'd like to apologize for not catching on sooner. You were onto something, and I was too proud to give it a chance when it came around the first time. I won't make that mistake again.

Let me start from the beginning...

About two years ago, I'd heard that they were going to make "Serenity", the big screen adaptation to the canceled show Firefly, along with the original cast and a story that both welcomed the fans from the show and newcomers like me.

When the film came out, I was curious to see it because of all the hype I'd heard on TV, the Internet, Radio - what was this phenomena with such a devoted cult following? I went into the theater expecting to be entertained. But I didn't expect to come out of it in love with the rag-tag crew, who wanted nothing more than to carve a niche for themselves in the great grand universe.

I was hooked, bad. I went out and got the Firefly box set and watched it from start to finish, sometimes re-watching episodes just to see all the nuance that was injected into the scenes. And the dialogue flipping between English and Mandarin? It was fan-boy fantastic!

I couldn't stop wondering why this show never really caught on. You'd think with hits like Buffy and Angel underneath Whedon's belt, this "Neo-Noir Action-Adventure Space Western" couldn't possibly be that much of a hard sell. But indeed, it was.

Here's what I think happened - again, this is just my opinion:

1. Time Slot. Airing on Friday nights at 8 didn't seem to help it at all. The last successful Sci-Fi serial to air on a Friday night was the X-Files. Even Battlestar Galactica has moved out of Fridays, and it's following is pretty deep.

2. A Plethora of Mixed Genres. Is it Sci-Fi? Is it a Western? Is it Action/Adventure? Is it a Drama? Pulling from many different elements made the show interesting to watch, but to those that prefer a simpler template to frame their state of mind found the mixed genres confusing. One minute its funny, and another it takes on the seriousness of a Shakespearean tragedy. This show was definitely a roller coaster that suit a very niche audience.

3. Airing episodes out of sequence. For instance, episodes made after the Pilot aired BEFORE the Pilot episode, which made jumping into the series a bit difficult. Without a solid foundation of exposition, the audience is left to scramble as to who is who, and what they are doing there. A slow reveal is fine, but when relationships get muddled, that's when you get into trouble.

4. Low advertising support from the Network. Early ads for Firefly seemed minimal, as if there was a lack of support for the fledgling program. Although a fan base was building, it might not have been raising the ratings fast enough - a warning sign that the show might be costing more money than it's worth. Then again, putting up a few ads to let people know what time it's on could have helped.

5. Just plain ahead of it's time. Mixed Genres and Extended-family dramas is now fairly commonplace i.e. Desperate Housewives, Lost, Jericho, etc... At the time, tastes in television skewed toward subject matter that is more grounded in reality than in Sci-Fi Space epics (of course, Battlestar Galactica is proof that you can be ahead and at the right place at the same time).

Although Firefly never completed a season, it continues to live on outside of the television medium - it's already been a film, further comic book series' are planned for it, and a RTS video-game is still in the works.

This all kind of reminds me of a show 40 some years ago that got canceled at its peak - it was a show about explorers venturing into the far reaches of space while exploring the inner depths of humanity along the way. It had a pretty strong following, but just not enough pull to keep it on the air.

That show, was called Star Trek. And look how that concept turned out... ;)

In This Place...

Such sweet-saccharine moments
fill my life when you and I are here,
in this place,
where I need not worry of hourglasses
running out of sand,
nor a restaurant dimming its lights
for last call,
'cause in this place,
I have everthing I want -
you, me, dorky debates about
the roundness of donuts,
and coffee that's always
brewed fresh-hot and dripped to
the perfection of us...