Objection Permanence

Now and then I’ll remember my elderly co-juror who, in another life, had run an adult cinema and, in this one, disruptively corrected the prosecutor when he misquoted Star Wars. He was one of the last of the Porno Cowboys, maybe THE last; the snaps on his shirt-pockets older than unleaded gas, his mustache a furred sandworm a-slumber, its bristles calm until riled by injustice, or the sultry siren song of a roast beef sandwich. He wasn't happy to be there—I certainly wasn’t, my bowtie cocked at an angle of fatigue long before voir dire—but was proud to do his civic duty; even more so to leap to his feet during opening statements when the prosecutor—for reasons that were never made clear—quoted Star Wars and attributed it to Star Trek, but still claimed it to be the child of George Lucas, the Bastard Prince of Modesto. This did not sit well with him and he stood to express his displeasure before the court, fearing neither its contempt nor threat of Hell. The judge shouted him down,…