Court for Jason Meduna was scheduled to start Monday, January 11th; would last thru Friday. Sometime in the week before court began, the thought struck my brain, 'What am I going to wear?' Now I'm not talking about expensive, latest fashion, would 'die for' clothes. I'm thinking I should have something other than my every day sweats, or cow-poop-stained ratty jeans! A sudden panic hit the brain cells at the same time. I had been so busy with paper work, etc, I forgot that I had to appear in front of people! A trip to Scottsbluff was in order. I had no idea about court proceedings; when would I testify? How many days would I be there? What will I wear? Thank heavens for sales at Herbergers. I managed to find 3 pants, 5 tops, 4 jackets, and that would get me thru the week, all under $175 - and that included new socks! I THOUGHT I would be testifying Monday. I was ready - no courtroom. That was ok though, my nerves were thru the ceiling. I thought I would testify Tuesday, outfit #2, no court room. Day 3 came, and I was informed I would probably be testifying.
Now you know when you buy new pants, and you make sure you take that sticky 'size' label off the leg before you go out in public? No problem, checked them all, twice...no tags, no sticky label. Wednesday morning, held up the jacket, turned it around, looked at the arms and the inside collar; all tags gone. Nerves mounting. Off for Bridgeport. At the court house, I finally got to meet Pam Nickoles, and her husband. What wonderful people they are. We are sitting in the very wide hallway, a 10' bench on one side, and a line of chairs across the way on the opposite side. There sits Mom across the way, we do our 'Good Morning' stuff... and she says, 'Stand up.' Of course wanting to check out the new outfit. (Like I said, nothing fancy; but much better than poop-stained jeans)
I was getting SO nervous, I first thought to myself, 'oh, I don't want to stand up.' And then I thought, 'Geez Vic, lighten up, it's Mom.' So I stood up, held my arms out to the side like 'ta-dah' and Mom said, 'Vic...you have a tag.' 'No way, I checked everything!', I exclaimed. Well, sure enough - I declare, just as Minnie Pearl would have her tag hangin' from her hat, mine was hangin' from my armpit!!!
Pam said something to the effect of, 'At least it wasn't the right arm, so when you raised your hand to swear in, everyone would have seen it!' I must say, it was quite a tension breaker. We did all get a pretty good laugh. Oh I was SSOOOOOO glad my mom told me to stand up!
So don't forget, when you're checkin' for tags...don't forget the armpits. And if it's moleskin or suede-like material, you really have to look good, the tag might stick to the material.
And now, I was ready for court.......
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Thank God for Mom, I'm not Minnie Pearl...
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Vicki, would you please write me at rt@rtfitch.com You have so much to tell and there are so many people who want to hear your truth.
ReplyDeleteLooking forward to hearing from you.
R.T.