justice with gavel and scalesSan Francisco’s court system just can’t quit me. For more than twenty years, practically every year to the day when I was last called, they call me up again — barely waiting the minimum time allowable between service stints. As I’ve chronicled here, the numbers just don’t add up. It’s impossible that San Francisco cycles through every available juror in city limits in a year’s time and comes back to my name. Clearly there is a file on me somewhere in the Hall of Justice with a big gold star next to my name and a notation in red ink that says, “Call this woman. She’ll show up every time.”

Friends tell me, “Just don’t show. Nothing will happen.” However, I do take my civic duty seriously, and I won’t deny I’m somewhat affected by the warnings that threaten fines and jail for shirking. But regardless, San Francisco isn’t giving me any wiggle room.

As some faithful followers of this blog and my Facebook updates will note, I was called for jury duty a few weeks ago. On the first day, the judge called us into a room, told us we were on a jury and ordered us to show up a week later. I chewed my fingernails for a week fearing that I’d be on slugger Barry Bonds‘ trial or an infamous murder trial for the suspected killers of an investigative journalist, both of which were due to start the week of my ordered service. But, to my delight, the morning that I was due to report, I checked the automated jury reporting information line, punched in my juror group number and found I was on standby for the day. Standby duty continued for the rest of the week and, on Friday, I congratulated myself for again serving but not being stuck on a trial.

Too soon. It seems, when the judge orders you to appear for a trial, you are moved to a special group, one without a number. Calling in to the jury reporting information line just gets you instructions for the recycled group number which no longer applies to you. Long story short. I was called up again to serve another week. Sort of a jury do-over.

Struggling to find some sort of silver lining, I left early to walk to court through one of my favorite areas of San Francisco. This would be the Beaux-Art heart of the City. It’s a roughly eight block square where the Temples of Government — from City Hall to the Courts to various State and City government buildings — face or at least are within neighborly nodding distance from the Temples of Culture — The War Memorial Opera House, Davies Symphony

City Hall from Davies

The view to City Hall from the Davies Symphony Hall loge during a recent performance intermission.

Hall, the Asian Art Museum and Herbst Theater. Ah yes, my children, there was once time when the city planners and citizens of this city — and many others across America — saw Government and Culture (capitalized!) as shining beacons of our civilization. In homage, they placed the glorious marble and gilded buildings housing them at the strategic center of town. In so much esteem did turn of the century San Franciscans hold their government, that less than a decade after the great earthquake, they erected a City Hall that still boasts the fifth largest dome in the world.

And how things have changed. But I digress…

I passed my second week on standby, only to be called up on the last day of service. Since I’d served one day in court and four days on mistaken stand-by in my first week, then four days on stand-by in my second week, today’s attendance means I’ve served six days or eleven days, depending on how you want to count it. Then I was assigned to a trial scheduled to start next week and run for a week. That would put me serving on jury duty for the better part of the month of April. Not fair when I’ve served my five required days.

And that’s what I told the judge. It was a tense moment, but, after giving me the gimlet eye, he let me off for another year. That will probably be a year to this date, on which I will no doubt be called again.

I do take my civic duty seriously, but this is getting out of hand. I did find out during this stint that one of the only sure-fire ways to avoid jury duty legally — at least in this state — is to be convicted of a felony. I’m not really contemplating that avenue. But San Francisco, give me a few years break so I won’t be tempted!

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