Passing a (Mile)stone

Tuesday, May 23
The spring morning was brisk and full of pollen. Carl put out his cigarette as he approached the Probation Office on Adams street. Rubbing his eyes he noticed that the side street was now blocked off and lined with small blue cafe tables and large cement planters. Martha Stewart must have had her Community Service transfered to Kings County. Karl wondered if this is what they mean by improving the court system.

The waiting room seemed the same. I noticed the female gaurd found a better way to apply her eyebrows. They didn't look like a broken mustache this morning. Last week I ran into N-----, that young woman with the scar over her eye. She was dressed in a complete pink outfit, from her leather coat down to her nails and shoes. She turned off her Ipod and waved at me. She told me that she had been mandated to attend a job fair, even though she's employed (at a pharmacy). "Can you believe this s---? I showed her my taxes and pay stubs... and she still talks down to me, like this is for my own good." She waved her pink talons around in teh air. I can't see N----- putting up drywall as a career.

This morning there were only four of us in the lobby. "Carl?" Mr. L--- waved me in. His eyes were shot from pollen too. I followed him from the lobby, down the path of cubicles, past the copy machine to his office. "So did Community Service ever contact you about my last day?" I aksed. He squinted at his compuer screen and read it to me. "Yeeees. It says here completed on May 6, 2006... 70 hours... Satisfactory... Officer B-----. Looks like you're done."

CS: Saturday, May 6
The last day of CS was actually very uneventful. With weekend changes to all trains Carl ended up heading towards Queens on the G train. He got out and ran around looking for the A train somewhere in Fort Greene. By the time he reached East New York it was 8:15 am.The crew stood around the old grey van as if they were looking at a beached whale. It made a humming noise like Yoko Ono as it leaked a stream of green fluid. A toxic pool had formed at the bottom of the hill near a flock of pigeons with lime green feet. Mr. B----- was on his cell trying to get another van as everyone yelled out advice for 30 minutes or so. "Keep the engine running..." "No, just keep the fan going and shut off the engine..." "That's not break fluid, moron!"

"Can I go now?" Carl got Mr. B-----'s attention by tapping on the windsheild. "This is supposed to be my last day, right?" "Uh, yeah... just sign here and write LD (last day or low down?)." Carl pulled something from his jacket and handed it to Mr. B-----. "I made you a hat." (men's fedora, deep blue mercerized cotton/linen) Carl said handing him back the clip board. "Oh man, thanks Carl" Mr. B----- tried it on "Looks niiiice." Walking towards the train station, Karl waved at the crew and said "Good luck, gentlemen." They all nodded back. Mr. B----- primped his new hat in the side mirror.

I signed Mr. L---'s log sheet. "I've now completed Anger Mangement and Community Service. Will I have one monthly visit at this point?" "Yes, and one home visit and random drug testing. Very good, Carl." As he logged me in and assigned me my next report day I asked him about the tables out front. He laughed. "Last week, a truck delivered a pile of dirt for the planters in the morning, by noon it had a ticket on it."

The pile of dirt was probably booked, arrested, and then released on its own recognizance... pending grand jury of course. If the pile of dirt makes less than 16K a year it can get assistance from legal aid for all court matters. I hope the pile of dirt gets a good lawyer. I imagine DA G------ would accuse the dirt of being menacing and trying to evade arrest.

Eplilogue
I guess this is a milestone. I've completed court mandated tasks. My probation days are down to one per month. Eventually I'll be on the scanner instead of attending probation report days. Lucky me, this should feel special. But as with most birthdays as we get older, things just aren't all that special anymore. I actually don't remember what I did for my birthday last year. I think I was in court looking at a DA with home-dyed hair and judge that could stand to lose 40 pounds.

Regarding Civil Court, I've heard from the trickle upward that Ms. Sciocco and her witness are in a state of panic after her story collapsed under questioning (perjury = jail time). People tell all sorts of crazy stories, but time shows us something else. So far no movement in Civil Court, its now been over a month (since April 12). I'll call W--- again to see if anything has moved in any direction.

The court plays games. I play this game called Senet, a game of movement and consequences. It's the grandfather of backgammon. Every move has a consequence on a board with 30 spaces. You can block the opponent, but you can also block yourself by doing so. Your first move may not be your best. One has to wonder if the plaintiff ever thought about consequnces in court.

My criminal lawyer A---- called me to say that he's ready to move to apeal in Criminal Court after Civil Court. But that last nail has not been pounded into this civil coffin yet. I still have to be deposed along with the plaintiff's missing witness. I've been advised that Criminal Court will resist my appeal every step of the way. It may take up to a year, or when ever the DA "retires" from the case (what ever that means). No DA wants to look THAT bad on record. I was told that she is aware of what has happenned in Civil Court. So, I'll badger it, what do I have to lose.

Last week I called home for Mother's day. Mom is coping well. She's finally considered eventually selling the house and moving into a condo. She informed me that my father's headstone was installed and that my sister ordered solar lights. I explained to her why they only come on at night. We went over her will. I'm glad she's finally making one. Dad's matters are still a mess.