Houston County Thanks You For Your Service,

You Are Dismissed

Today, I traveled to the seat of government of Houston County (Pronounced House-ton, not like the eponymous city in Texas) because I received a jury summons in the mail a few weeks ago. It was somewhat of an adventure getting there, as I decided to dress up for the occasion (i.e. I was wearing a blue blazer, dress slacks, dress shirt and a tie, accompanied by my favorite “dress” black cowboy boots. Editor’s note: Sorry Aaron, I wasn’t wearing French cuffs). (Additional Editor’s note: my lack of French cuffs should not signify a disdain for all things French, when in fact they produce very good salad dressing). (Yet another Editor’s note: The editor apologizes for the excessive use of parentheses, and encourages you to forward any complaints to this address).

So anyway, there I was on my way out the door running late and misplacing various essential items such as car keys, cussing at the printer because it was being slow printing out my Mapquest directions to the Facility for Maximum Justice, and otherwise grumbling.

Well, I finally got on the road. It’s about 28 minutes to Perry according to the directions. But the directions had me get off at a certain exit, go on a bypass, pass several farmers’ fields, a concrete plant, and wind up in the Greater Perry Industrial Park. At this point it was exactly 8:46am and I was supposed to be at the Facility for Maximum Justice at 8:45am, and I had no idea where it was.

So I drove around for a couple minutes till I could figure out how to get to “downtown” Perry and found an official looking building to go into and ask directions to the Courthouse. (Editor’s note: The author was able to discern that this was an “official” building because of its architecture, and more importantly because it had a Confederate Civil War memorial in the front gardens).

I got directions from a very nice lady in there, and they also had pre-printed directions sitting on a table which she urged me to take, which I did. It was about 8:55, I think, when I got back into the four-door grey Volvo station wagon and re-initiated my journey.

The directions said that I should head North on Main towards Hawkinsville, which I did. (Editor’s note: Hawkinsville is actually South). I figured out things weren’t looking right once I realized that I was re-traversing the terrain which had been previously traversed, thereby introducing the “re” and “-“ necessary to convey what was happening to the word “traverse.”

Well, other than that, the directions were spot-on. I slud into an available parking spot, walked through security, and into the Jury Assembly room. Of course, most of the jurors came with no assembly required and looked to be remarkably in one piece. I didn’t notice any detached limbs or other miscellaneous body parts scattered about in the room.

I walked in and asked the guard if I just sit down, and he nodded his ascent. So I took my place in a large hall similar to one you would hold town meetings in. A man up front in one of the elevated chairs was speaking, “…and so we’re not going to need to pick a jury today, and I am sorry that you had to come out here. All we’re going to do now is call the roll to see who was here and you’ll get a check in the mail later this week for coming out here today…”

And Moel Joughon (editor’s note: pseudonym) would be proud to know that “When the Roll Was Called Up Yonder, I Was There,” though just barely (Editor’s note: Schwartzy won’t get that reference). I announced my prescence, and then left a couple minutes later.

Thus, my day as a juror ended all too soon, but as I went back to my car, I felt like perhaps, in a way, Great Victory Was Achieved by Houston County this Day.