Juror Number Eight

Photo by me, February 2015.

 

It was fifteen minutes after six on a drizzly morning as I caught the bus two days ago and transferred to the train. Traffic is bad enough in my part of Atlanta anytime of day on any day of the week and the thought of morning rush hour was something I did not want to consider. I like taking the train anyway and the station in Decatur was next to my destination, the DeKalb County Courthouse. If I was going to have to report for jury duty, then this was the least stressful way for me to do it.

This was my first time being called to possibly serve on a jury. I had appeared as a witness in a civil trial in the 1990s and had been on my high school mock trial competition team, so courtrooms were somewhere I familiar, but not in recent times. 

 

I was curious about the process of being a juror, but ultimately I did not want to be chosen to serve. The idea of having to repeat this process for days or weeks was as appealing as being kicked in the face by an angry elephant. Once I arrived and filled out my papers, I was split off into a group that was going to form a pool of jury prospects for a civil trial. No murder trial for me and I was glad about that.

 

Downtown Decatur. Photo by me, February 2015.

 

Downtown Decatur. Photo by me, February 2015.

Things got off to a fast start as my group was ushered up to the top floor of the courthouse to wait outside a courtroom. The view was nice as I waited. As much time as I had spent eating, drinking coffee and hanging out at the Decatur Square, I had not seen a perspective from this high up before.

Then we were led inside, lectured by the judge who was rather condescending and not all that grateful that we as citizens were giving up our time to be there. She, like the attorneys for the plaintiffs and defendants were being well compensated to be there, the rest of us were not. I crossed my fingers that I would not get selected to serve on the jury. I did not want to endure another day of this judge.

The case was a boring one. The plaintiffs were a professional couple in their late twenties that had purchased a home from an elderly couple in Dunwoody. The plaintiffs alleged that problems with the home had not been adequately disclosed by the seller and they were suing for monetary damages and pain and suffering. I rolled my eyes as I sized up the plaintiffs. I was supposed to have an open mind about it, but at first glance and without hearing any evidence I was not feeling sympathetic to the plaintiffs.

As we broke for lunch, half of the jury pool was dismissed and sent on their way. I was not so lucky and remained in the pool through the first wave of cuts.

Downtown Decatur. Photo by me, February 2015.

Downtown Decatur. Photo by me, February 2015.

Downtown Decatur. Photo by me, February 2015.

Downtown Decatur. Photo by me, February 2015.

Downtown Decatur. Photo by me, February 2015.

Downtown Decatur. Photo by me, February 2015.

Downtown Decatur. Photo by me, February 2015.

Downtown Decatur. Photo by me, February 2015.

Downtown Decatur. Photo by me, February 2015.

Downtown Decatur. Photo by me, February 2015.

I grabbed a coffee and sandwich for lunch and wandered around downtown. I thought about the more fun occasions that I had in Decatur from a wedding dinner at Cafe Alsace, dinner dates at Watershed, dinners with friends, playing pool and drinking at Twain's, having coffee at Java Monkey, attending fairs, researching at the library and so much other fun. Being stuck in Decatur not by choice was like being forced to stay in the hospital after surgery to recover. It was the loss of freedom by serving on a jury to solve a stranger's problem that bothered me the most. I was not in a generous spirit.

After lunch I was questioned by the plaintiff's attorney. The questions related to how much I knew about home construction and my own experience with renovations. I struggled to not laugh as I explained that I could do most any home renovation project and had experience going back to my teen years. I felt for sure that the plaintiff's attorney would want to strike me, I assumed he would want jurors with a limited knowledge on the subject that he could mislead.

The next wave of cuts were made and I was still a potential juror. The day was getting long as it became late afternoon. The judge excused us for a thirty minute break and I went out for fresh air. The sun began to break through the clouds and the pavement dried out along with my patience.

We were called back to the courtroom. I was fearful that the judge was going to tell us to come back tomorrow since it was so late in the day. There was one final cut to be made to reach the needed amount of jurors. After some discussion between the attorneys and the judge, the final cut was announced like a cheesy game show. Who were going to be the unlucky contestants to get chosen? A drumroll was missed.

 

Juror number eight was not called. I was excused from jury duty and released. I exited the courthouse so fast that it probably seemed that I was an escaping criminal alluding the police. I did not breathe until I was outside. I could have kissed the sod covered ground. 

 

I understand the justice system relies on juries, but in the matter of a civil case that seemed petty based on the limited details that I was aware, it made me angry to have my time wasted on this squabble between strangers. This was not a good use of my civic responsibility. A judge or some other arbitrator could have decided that case instead of a jury.

The Movies Of 2014

These are my favorite movies of 2014.


1. Ida - This became one of my favorite films of all-time. Every frame of this film is beautiful.

2. The Notebook (Le Grand Cahier) - Despite the unfortunate title for this film which it shares with some awful Hollywood movie, this Hungarian film is incredible.

3. The Trip To Italy - If you saw the first installment of The Trip then you know that this movie is about food, conversation, improvisation, laughter and driving. This one while still funny isn't as jovial as its predecessor and at times has underlying somber notes. The dinner scene on the balcony with impressions of Gore Vidal was the funniest scene of the year. 

4. Litling - Being able to relate to much of the subject matter in this movie made it painful to watch. That I could relate to this movie made it one of my favorites for this year.

5. Under The Skin - At times I thought Stanley Kubrick had been resurrected to make this movie but director XX certainly was inspired by him.


Honorable Mention: Finding Vivian Maier - The subject matter is fascinating and for that alone I enjoyed the film. However, the execution of the film is lacking at times and for that it suffers. In better hands this could have been outstanding.

Cochran Mill Park

Located in South Fulton County in an area known as the Chattahoochee Hill Country I went for a hike last Friday in Cochran Mill Park. While most Americans were celebrating the Fourth of July with fireworks, hot dogs, parades or whatever else I thought the most freeing activity I could do was walk in the woods. I spent the day doing just as I wanted and that is the greatest freedom of all.

A hiding wild deer. Photo by me, July 2014.

Wild deer were running and hiding in the trees during my walk. I encountered them three times that day and they darted away as fast as they could, except the one in the photo above that hid like a child  in a game of hide and seek behind a downed tree. 

 

Lush ground cover on the forest floor. Photo by me, July 2014.

Photo by me, July 2014.

The trail map I had was inaccurate once I looked at the landscape in front of my eyes. I abandoned the trail and strolled through what had been a farming field many years ago. Now the old field was filled with trees and wild grasses and it was as lush as it could be. I could have been happy to sit in take in the greenery for hours, but I had a destination in mind and knew roughly where it was.

Photo by me, July 2014.

Photo by me, July 2014.

I came to the banks of Bear Creek. I waded downstream for a long while. I knew it would eventually lead me where I wanted to be. My waterproof hiking boots kept me dry until the water became too deep and they filled up. 'Not a problem,' I thought as a few miles in soggy socks was not going to ruin my fun.

Photo by me, July 2014.

Some time later I could see a clearing in the tree canopy to my left so that must have meant there was a field or open area. I climbed the bank from the creek and confirmed my suspicions. Getting to it meant clawing through dense underbrush and wiggling my way through tangles of briars and privet.

Photo by me, July 2014.

Photo by me, July 2014.

Photo by me, July 2014.

A few cuts and scrapes later I sat in the wonderful field and pulled water from my backpack. I had the field to myself and thought it would be a good place to fly a kite on a windy March day. I made that mental note and filed it away for future reference. I knew from this field I could rejoin the trail system and ultimately decided I would give the poorly marked system another go.

Photo by me, July 2014.

Photo by me, July 2014.

An abandoned bridge. Photo by me, July 2014.

I walked along an old road. I knew from the history of the area there were old mills, dams, a house foundation or two and a cemetery around these parts before it became public land. So walking the old road had me thinking of people traveling through here in cars or wagons maybe. I thought of how isolated and quiet it must have been back then. Not all that different from today in that it was quiet, but not nearly as isolated. Though no houses were around for a few miles, omnipresent technology such as cell phones and the like have limited what isolation we can truly experience. My phone thankfully stayed silent from texts, calls or emails and I never listen to music when I hike. I walk or hike because I want the full first-hand experience of nature in surround sound.

Photo by me, July 2014.

Photo by me, July 2014.

Photo by me, July 2014.

A few poorly marked trail junctions later and some guessing on my part and I veered off the road onto a trail heading deeper into the woods. The trail was flat through this portion and I made good time through the green woods. It was a pretty walk in the summer and I would imagine in the peak of fall it is even prettier.

Photo by me, July 2014.

Photo by me, July 2014.

Then it came time to cross Bear Creek again as it meandered through the woods, at least this time there were stepping stones to avoid the water.

Just follow the "H" I suppose. Photo by me, July 2014.

I passed a few people dotting the trail like mushrooms and forged onward on a twisty trail along a ridge line with rock outcroppings. My spirits were high as if the lush forest was feeding me some kind of natural energy.

A white mushroom hiding in the moss. Photo by me, July 2014.

Photo by me, July 2014.

Ominous looking little tiny red mushrooms. Photo by me, July 2014.

Photo by me, July 2014.

Photo by me, July 2014.

Speaking of mushrooms, there were plenty to be admired. The forests of Georgia, with ample rainfall, are good places for mushroom hunting. Seeing all these mushrooms was a reminder I have been wanting to buy a reference book on mushrooms so that I can identify them. I do not have a desire to consume them in any fashion, but it would be nice to know what I am looking at. It was fun crawling around the ground getting photos of the many types I saw. I kept waiting for someone to walk up on me and wonder what I was doing but it didn't happen.

Photo by me, July 2014.

A few hours and miles into my walk I reached my destination. As with any decent waterfall, I heard it before I saw Henry Mill waterfall. The trail came up behind and I walked out on the algae and moss covered rocks at the top. I took my photos, enjoyed the sound of the water, walked down from the falls and sat on a rock ledge to take in the scene of nature's work. I was alone with the falls. I was there for only a few minutes when technology pierced my isolation. I should have just turned the thing off. I had walked all those miles and hours to enjoy the scenery only to have it interrupted by the nuisances I had wanted to leave behind. Thirty minutes of alone time at the falls was all I could get before other hikers with children came and decided to set up chairs and a mini-camp right the middle of the rocks of the falls. I left and started my hike back to civilization as the day was getting long.

 

To borrow from that lovely and famous poem by Robert Frost:

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Photo by me, July 2014.

Photo by me, July 2014.

This wildflower is a spurred butterfly pea. Photo by me, July 2014.

Photo by me, July 2014.

A variety of wildflowers were blooming in the more sunny spots along the creeks and the trails.

I was stopped and had a conversation with another person out enjoying the trails. He asked if I had seen the deer. I said yeah I had seen three so far and we talked about predators in the wild. A few moments of conversation and we parted going opposite directions. This is one of the aspects of hiking that I like, meeting strangers on the trail and sharing experiences.

Photo by me, July 2014.

Beside a trail marker sign was this surprise. A rat snake about four to five feet in length that was stretched out on the ground. I crouched down and took a closer look at it and it was certainly alive and watching me, I had for a brief second thought it might be dead since it was directly adjacent to the trail. I watched it for a couple minutes and decided I had seen enough before moving on.

Rat snakes are a common sight when out hiking in Georgia in the warmer months. Please do not kill these snakes as they are harmless and considered good for the environment. There are plenty of other snakes you might encounter in the Georgia woods and the one I have seen the most is the copperhead - they are not friendly, cuddly snakes.

Photo by me, July 2014.

On my way out of the woods I navigated the trails slightly better to the trailhead. It was pure luck combined with my lifelong experience in the woods that led me out. Before hiking this area I read about an entire family getting lost here and needing a search and rescue team to find them. After wandering around on these trails I could see exactly how that happened. The trail maps were wrong and the trail markers were inadequate or wrong too. Like life, I do not mind getting lost all that much, when I have the time, because you can make some of your best self discoveries trying to find your direction.

My misadventures on and off the trail tallied seven miles of walking in the end. I got home tired, muddy, bloody, and most importantly satisfied.




Updated March 2, 2017: Since the was written in 2014, improvements have been made to the trail system and the signage at Cochran Mill Park.

Dance In The Garden In Torn Sheets In The Rain

This morning I was listening to a B52s retrospective show on WMLB over my coffee. It made me think of my years in high school and all the good music I was fortunate enough to hear out of Athens in the 1980s and early 90s. I wore out Cosmic Thing on cassette and I was heavily into R.E.M., but the B52s were my happy music. The music they made created a special impression on me about Athens and how I imagined it to be such a cool and alternative paradise on the other side of state. Even though I grew up in Georgia, Paulding County to be precise, and I have lived most of my adult life in the city of Atlanta it took me until a couple of years ago, 2011, to finally visit Athens. I have been to Athens a few times over the last couple of years and I do love the place.


I was just over there again in April of this year and I grabbed my coffee and stood under the clock at E. Broad Street and College Avenue and soaked in the atmosphere. UGA was in session and I might have been a little out of place amongst all the college kids but I didn't care because it was nice to be in the place where so much great music was made. The rest of my group was off doing other things so I took the time to stroll alone through Downtown. Athens didn't mean anything to them because it was just another town and they weren't connected to the music, though I did try to convert them on the drive over.

Not the original location of the 40 Watt. Photo by me, April 2014.

I stood outside the 40 Watt Club for a few minutes and imagined all the great performances that have gone on inside it. Earlier in the day I had tried to explain the significance of Wuxtry Records to my group as we walked past on East Clayton Street and when they failed to care I decided it was time to separate and explore on my own for a little. They just didn't 'get' Athens.

Photo by me, April 2014.

I stopped by the Georgia Theatre to pay my respects and snap some photos. A college kid stopped on his scooter at the light on the corner caught my eye and he smiled at me. He was probably thinking, look at that middle age man reliving he college memories. Then my cell rang and my friends were bored and hounding me about food.

Photo by me, April 2014.

There's only one place I will typically eat in Athens and that is Weaver D's. I met up with my friends there and of course I had to explain why the walls inside were plastered in R.E.M. posters. Then I tried to explain Automatic For The People and how R.E.M. borrowed that slogan for an album name.They didn't much care but they liked the fried chicken and so did I. I only wish they had brought out my sweet potatoes like they said they would but service isn't something I would rave about here.

Photo by me, April 2014.

After we ate I walked over to the bridge over the Oconee River which sits next door to Weaver D's. My friends didn't join me so I was glad to make them wait a couple extra minutes before we got back in the car and headed down the Atlanta Highway.

I still love Athens and the music that was born there even if my friends don't. So when I heard the Deadbeat Club this morning I was taken back to my youth and driving with the windows down on my Datsun 280ZX and singing my heart out. Sadly, I have yet to find anyone willing to dance in the garden in torn sheets in the rain and I need to work on that.

Summer Colors

Fresh goodness. Photo by me, June 2014.

On the first of the month I paid another visit to the State Farmer's Market down in Forest Park. My mission was to browse the produce and maybe find some bedding plants. It's a big outdoor open-air market housed under these massive concrete stalls near the airport. It isn't a pretty place at first glance, but the colors from the vegetables and flowers give it plenty of life. The market emphasizes form over function so it isn't a glamorous place like what you might expect in an indoor market and I like it that way - I like to see the beauty in the ugly.

Photo by me, June 2014.

One vendor was selling pinatas. I was so happy to see these hanging from the roof. One of my aunts on my mother's side of the family would buy these for birthday parties when I was a child. She would hang them from the ceiling of her carport and my two cousins, brother and I would take our blind folded turns and swing at it with a baseball bat. Many good laughs erupted at how we would swing at the air completely missing the target. It often took several good whacks to bust one open. It might be fun to have a party even in my adulthood with one... I will file that idea away for potential later use.

Photo by me, June 2014.

No pinatas, but I did end up getting some pretty mangoes for smoothie making and some fresh vegetables.

Photo by me, June 2014.

Then I walked over to where they sell flowers and bedding plants. It was a colorful scene and the photo above only shows a portion of what all they offered. I spent more time looking at flowers that afternoon than I did at anything else. The selection was good quality and the prices were reasonable so I ended up buying some bright stars, marigolds (I love these basic flowers and plant them every year) and zinnias. 

A photo of a zinnia planted by my mother from my childhood in the 1980s. I must have been trying some "arty" focusing. Photo by me, 1980s.

I haven't planted zinnias since I was a child with my mother. I have some photos tucked away of growing them one year with a grasshopper perched atop one of the blooms. Growing flowers and tending them are some of the best memories I had with my mother and flowers were something that brought us both much happiness. I can't plant flowers or tend to my plants without thinking of her.

It seems the visit that day to the farmer's market brought out childhood memories in me and I acted on one of them in getting the zinnias. So far they are growing well and I will have to post some photos of them as the summer goes on.

 

The Carousel At Zoo Atlanta

Photo by me, February 2013.

A carousel for me is a reminder of days gone by like my childhood and times of more simple and grand forms of amusement. Carousels are a fantastical and leisurely ride in circles bobbing up and down on wooden animals instead of the adrenaline pumping theme park rides of modern times. Yet, carousels have somehow managed to survive maybe because they still amuse small children and satisfy the nostalgia of us older adults. Aside from the nostalgia I like carousels because they are beautiful, the animals are often hand carved and are a display of quality craftsmanship and because they are colorful. I tend to think of them as a piece of art that you can ride.

Photo by me, February 2013.

Despite the feelings of nostalgia it might evoke the carousel inside Zoo Atlanta is not an old one however, it was built in 1998. It was built by the Ohio company Carousel Works, which is the largest manufacturer of carousels in the world. I remember walking through the zoo last year and lighting up in a smile at the sight of the carousel. The bright colors and the animals resurrected feelings of being a child again if ever so briefly. I don't think a person can be unhappy around a carousel except for maybe a child whose parent won't let them ride it again.

Photo by me, February 2013.

It's difficult to resist the sweet stare of those elephant's eyes. The animals are all made of wood lined up in a herd of three rows. There are bears, elephants, leopards, tigers, a giraffe and other animals with two sleighs to ride if you prefer that over mounting an animal. The current carousel had a predecessor outside the zoo and located in Grant Park. It was installed in 1966 but was sold off in the 1980s and today it is amusing young and old in Chattanooga.

Photo by me, February 2013.

If you are interested in carousels there are a few of others that I can think of nearby in the Atlanta suburbs and they are located at Northpoint Mall in Alpharetta, Sugarloaf Mills in Duluth and one at Six Flags Over Georgia.

Monsters At The Asylum

March 2014. Photo by me.

This mural was painted in 2012 as part of Living Walls and was painted by the artist Fefe Talavera. Fefe Talavera is known for painting monsters in her native Brazil and for her it is a cathartic experience. She said in an interview, "the monsters are a way of exorcising my feelings, my angers, my sadness, my ignorance, my fear...it is the only method by which I succeed in expressing my rage, at life, my fury."  

March 2014. Photo by me.

I love the red, black, and white colors she chose to use on the side of the Asylum building on Flat Shoals Avenue in the East Atlanta Village. Unfortunately I couldn't get a closer look at the mural because it is behind a chain link fence and peeking through the wire mesh kind of takes away from the beauty of the work on the side of the wall. Or I suppose you could interpret it as the monsters are locked away kind of like animals at the zoo? In the monster on the right I notice the face of a human lurking behind the shapes of the monster. It makes me think of what the artist said about exorcising her inner monster through her work.

This mural is one of several in the East Atlanta Village so take a stroll around and take in all the free public art awaiting you.