Serving as a grand juror, it was my duty to decide whether or not accused persons should go before the court. When presented with an indictment, the grand jury decides if a crime has actually been committed and whether or not the person or persons named in the indictment probably committed that crime. If it is determined that a crime was committed and the person named probably did it, then that persons case would go to trial.

I served on the grand jury for a year. Once a month I would go to the court house and my fellow jurors and I would wade through a plethora of indictments, most of them being fairly routine but a few turning out to be rather interesting to say the least.

One particular case involved a young man accused of manufacturing and selling marijuana. The two arresting officers presented the case to the grand jury in hopes of securing a trial for the accused. The indictments don't usually contain a detailed account of how an accused person was apprehended although they usually contain descriptions of the crime, photographs of the crime scene or evidence, etc. In this case, the officers felt compelled to tell us exactly how they were able to apprehend the man named in the indictment.

We were told that police had suspected the man of growing and selling marijuana for quite some time but were unable to find out where he was growing it nor were they successful in catching him in the act of distribution. The man was very careful in his transactions and only dealt with people of whom he had established a long time relationship. The officers explained that they knew that there was virtually no way that they would ever catch this man even though they were positive he was involved in illegal activities.

They decided that they would simply approach the man and ask him about his activity. Perhaps if the man knew the law was on to him, he might make a mistake. So the officers drove to the suspects house, knocked on the door and when the man answered they identified themselves as law officers. "We have been getting reports that you have been growing and selling pot and we wanted to stop by and talk to you about it."

"That's absurd," replied the man. "I would never do anything like that."

"May we come inside and talk to you about it?"

"Certainly. Come on in."

The officers entered the residence and discussed the matter for about an hour. They described the conversation as very friendly and said the suspect never appeared nervous or intimidated in any way. The suspect vehemently and convincingly denied being involved in any illegal activity especially anything involving the manufacture and distribution of marijuana.

The officers told the grand jury that the man had almost convinced them that they were wrong in their suspicions. "We appreciate you taking the time to talk with us regarding this matter and we apologize for any inconvenience."

"I'm glad to be of service and feel free to come by any time," replied the man.

"Would you mind if we just take a look around?" said one of the officers. "Our boss won't be happy unless we do."

Without flinching, the suspect said, "By all means feel free."

Here is where the suspect made his fatal mistake. The officers explained to us that they had no right to search the premises without a warrant and that no judge would ever give them one based solely on circumstantial evidence. However, if the man were to give them permission to search, a search warrant wasn't needed. They continued by explaining to us that their experience had shown that when a suspect is asked the question, "May we search your home?" they have a tendency to refuse. However, if they rephrase the question to sound less threatening and present it in a nonchalant manner, they are more apt to get the response they are looking for. Thus by saying, " Would you mind if we just take a look around?" is the same as saying "Do you mind if we search every nook and cranny of the place?"

The officers briefly looked around the first floor and then split up to search the basement and attic. The officer who looked in the basement found nothing but the officer who pulled down the attic stairs immediately noticed something peculiar. Bright lights were the first thing he noticed just before a wave of heat hit him in the face. He ascended the pull down stairs to find on of the most elaborate hydroponics setups ever known to mankind. The man was growing marijuana in a nutrient solution under laboratory growing conditions complete with automatically timed lighting and automatic rotation of the plants to ensure even light distribution. Needless to say, the suspect was promptly placed under arrest.

Let's recap the situation, shall we? The cops go to a house and basically accuse the resident of possessing, growing and selling pot. The man denies it but, knowing that his entire felony operation is just a few feet away, gives the police permission to search his house. All he would have had to do to keep from getting caught would have been to say, No. You can't take a look around." We now have definitive proof that only dopes use dope.

One would think, that when a person is arrested for felony manufacture, possession and distribution of a controlled substance, that person would be concerned about the fact that they are facing ten years in prison but not our boy. His biggest concern was what his father would think. According to the arresting officers, the suspect said as he was being handcuffed, "My dad is going to kill me." I hope his father doesn't mind waiting.

One of my former employees took a job as the operations coordinator for a manufacturer of handcrafted hardwood rockers. During the time in which he was under my employ, we became good friends and, since then, we have managed to keep in touch from time to time. He was known to be the instigator of many a humorous practical joke and I did my best to retaliate whenever the opportunity presented itself.

Recently, my friend contacted me in order to get my mailing address so he could send me some of his company brochures so that I could see what it is that he is coordinating. In talking with him, it is obvious that he takes pride in what he is doing and I am honored that he thinks enough of me to share that aspect of his life.

A couple of days after we spoke, I received a package from him. It contained several brochures, a few logo emblazoned plastic pens, a couple of really nice laser engraved wooden pens and a couple of penlights complete with his company logo. I had barely finished examining the contents when my friend called to ask if his package had arrived. I told him that it had and thanked him for the very nice items that he had sent. After hanging up the telephone, I felt that I hadn't said enough about the gifts he'd sent so I emailed the following message to him:

Dear Mr. Sasser,

This is to let you know that your lovely gifts have arrived. The attractive wooden pen is great and I plan to use it as soon as I get the splinters from it out of my hand. I have burned the retina of my left eye from staring at the beam from the handsome penlight you sent but I'm sure it will prove useful if my vision ever returns. My doctor says that a simple skin graft will repair the third degree burns caused by the penlights leaking battery. Even though I have had a severe allergic reaction to the ink from the high quality plastic pens you sent, I'm sure with the proper antihistamine, I'll be able to use them without incident.

I have had a chance to look at the colorful brochure of your product line but don't worry as I probably won't get an infection from the paper cuts it produced. Since we have been forced to cut back on supplies due to budget restraints, I have deposited your brochures in the restrooms since toilet paper is now a rare commodity here. I'm sure my fellow employees will be very appreciative of your generous contribution and you should pick up some business from them as they browse the catalog when tearing pages from it.

Thanks again and best regards,

Robeo

Standing outside at the back of a building, I watched as a man rolled a small suitcase across the parking lot. On top of the suitcase was a small black leather bag. He approached the back of the building, briefly looked at the door to the entrance but then proceeded to drag his suitcase and bag up a steep grassy hill. He had only made it about a third of the way when the black leather bag fell off the suitcase and rolled to the bottom of the hill. The man turned around and started down the hill to retrieve his bag.

When he reached the bottom I told the man that there was an elevator he could access through the rear entrance and that he didn't need to haul his belongings up the hill. He said that where he was going was just at the top of the hill and he thought it quicker and easier to negotiate the hill. At this point I offered to help the man carry his things to the top of the hill but he declined saying that he thought he could manage.

The gentleman placed his black leather bag on top of his suitcase and started up the hill once again. Reaching the halfway point, the leather bag slid off the suitcase and tumbled to the bottom of the hill. Again the man turned around and made his way to the bottom of the hill to retrieve his bag.

"It might be easier and quicker to just go inside and take the elevator," I said.

"No thanks," said the man. "I think I can make it this time."

"I'll be happy to help you carry something," I offered.

The man thought for a second before saying, "Perhaps you could, if you don't mind, carry this leather bag for me."

"I don't mind at all. I'd be glad to help."

He handed me the bag and as we started up the hill he said, "Please be careful with that bag. The contents are very fragile."

Have you been to a hospital emergency room lately? Nowadays, before you can see a doctor or even be treated for what ails you, you have to go through what is referred to as triage. What is triage? Triage is a French word meaning, "Unnecessary questions before an extremely long wait to see a doctor." The first part of the word, "Tri," is Mesopotamian for "first set of three identical questions of which the answers will never be read." The second part of the word, "age," is Phoenician and it means, "you are going to be really old by the time you get to see a doctor."

The triage room is usually stocked with the basic machines for determining vital signs, a computer, several machines that nobody is quite sure what they do and a nurse. As she is checking your vital signs, the nurse will ask you why you have come to the emergency room as well as multiple questions about your medical history and will enter this information into the computer. It makes no difference whether or not your arm is hanging by a thread because the nurse will still ask you why you are there. If you have warts all over your face and you are accompanied by a sibling who also is covered with warts, the nurse is still going to ask if you have a family history of warts. Once the nurse is finished with the questionnaire, she will ask a volunteer worker to escort you to a bed in the actual emergency room. After you are out of sight, it is her job and sworn duty to delete all of your information from the computer.

Once you are in a bed, the first thing that you notice is that the room temperature is set at 42 degrees Fahrenheit. There is nothing you can do about this as it is a regulation mandated by Federal law to insure that doctors are comfortable while wearing their fashionable laboratory coats. You will lay in the bed until a nurse is good and ready to attend to you. Once this happens, the first thing that she will do is take your pulse. As she takes hold of your wrist, the first thing you will notice is that the temperature of her hand is 35 degrees Fahrenheit. This is not a federally mandated requirement but is a standard medical practice to see whether or not your heart stops when you are exposed to low temperatures.

Once the nurse has taken your vital signs and has made sure that you are as uncomfortable as possible, she will ask you why you have come to the emergency room as well as multiple questions about your medical history. She will then diligently enter this information on your chart. Nobody will ever look at your chart ever again. It is possible that additional information will be added to your chart, but the addition of information does not require the reading of any previous entry nor will any additions to your chart ever be read. The nurse will then tell you, "The doctor will be with you shortly." This is when you learn that time is relative.

Soon after you have celebrated two consecutive birthdays, the doctor will poke his head in to see you. He will say, "What seems to be the problem?"

This is your opportunity to establish a good doctor/patient relationship by saying, "First, why don't you look at my chart and second, isn't it your job to tell me what the problem is?"

The doctor will tell you, "Well, I'm the doctor so just let me be the judge of that. Open your mouth and say ahhh."

"Doc, there isn't anything wrong with my throat. I have a broken arm."

"Okay. In that case I'll have the nurse give you the most expensive antibiotic we have. It should do the trick. It's very trendy"

"I don't have an infection and I don't need an antibiotic. My arm is broken."

"Oh, okay. I'd better add that to your chart. Now, let's see here. I'm going to go ahead and schedule your gallbladder surgery for this time next year."

"Didn't you listen to what I just said?"

"I don't have to listen. I'm a doctor."

Doctor!

"Yes?"

"I have a broken arm."

"A broken arm? In that case, I'll need to send you to triage. A volunteer will be with you shortly.