And justice for all

I have a confession to make. I have gone to great lengths to avoid jury duty. For years, I ran a business. With all humility aside, it was dependent upon me personally. I was the creator of the product. I had employees in need of direction and training. I had customers demanding immediate decisions. Bills had to be paid. Marketing questions demanded instantaneous answers. Someone had to keep the toilet paper in the bathroom. The company could ill-afford my absence, especially for an extended time.

When the envelope would arrive, it was clearly marked. I was being called for jury duty. I would be obliged to spend possibly weeks away from my job, commuting one hundred miles per day. I would try to focus on the details of some civil dispute between two neighbors over a dog crapping on the wrong side of a lot line while I imagined the demise of the company I’d spent years building. I wasn’t going to do it.

I knew it was a crime to avoid jury duty, but to the best of my knowledge, it wasn’t a crime to not open junk mail. And when I squinted as I looked at the envelope, it sure looked like junk mail to me. Those sly direct mail merchants were clearly trying to make their solicitous rubbish look like official business. I almost fell for it. It went directly into the trash container. If the authorities came knocking on my door, I could honestly say, “I never saw the letter.” I wasn’t sure how I’d respond if they asked, “Did you see the envelope?”