Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

For almost two decades, Robert Bluth has been an attorney who practices general business law, litigation, and corporate law. For over sixteen years, for a few hours on most Wednesday evenings he has served as a municipal court judge for two small rural towns. He and his wife have seven children.

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Muni Court

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Contents

Introduction.....................................................................................1Hell Hath No Fury ...............................................................................3My Home, My Castle, My Wheels....................................................................7To Err Is Human; To Avoid the Consequences-Well, That Would Be the Challenge.....................14Mama's Little Girl Done Grow'd Up................................................................31What Friends Are For.............................................................................40Honest ... But ..................................................................................45No Good Deed Should Go Unpunished................................................................49Yes, I Am That Bullheaded........................................................................56Occasionally, a Phoenix Does Rise................................................................68Just a Good Ole Country Kid......................................................................78Never Judge a Book ..............................................................................82So, Who Will Show Whom???........................................................................89Group IQ Is Not Cumulative, or Most Apples Fall Close to the Tree................................94Sometimes, the Words Are Worth a Thousand Pictures...............................................112A Penalty Earned Saved Nothing...................................................................116Dirty and Justice Just Do Not Mix................................................................119You Earned the Right How??.......................................................................130It Just Is Not Over until Mama Says It Is Over...................................................133The Young and the Prepared.......................................................................140Out of Sight ... Dang ... Still a Problem........................................................148Not Every Dog Has Its Day, but Every Dog Owner Does..............................................159Mister Mini-Not-So-Tough Guy.....................................................................175A Short Primer on Municipal Court Procedures.....................................................185

Chapter One

In small towns with limited shopping availability, the grocery store tends to be one of the intersections at which all paths eventually cross. When there is only one place to get disposable diapers, eggs, milk, chips, pop, cigarettes, or beer, the question is not who will be at the store, but when will they be there and whom will they see. For that reason, Murphy (of Murphy's Law fame) dedicates particular attention to this location of infinite possibilities.

Standard evening in court. The parade of unfortunates responds as their names are called. The usual speeding, failure to obey traffic-control device, etc., etc. The next citation has an investigation report attached (not common on traffic citations). Whoa-an Assault III. It is unusual for the officers to cite an assault into muni court. But momentary relief from the mundane is always appreciated. The court also notes that the citation was issued only two days before court.

"Ms. Touch," calls the court.

On the far right of the courtroom, she stands. Age nineteen to twenty one, five feet three, maybe five feet four. Dressed in jeans and boots (western boots of course), stocky but not overweight, broad shoulders, would have made a good linebacker for the Dallas Cowboys. Clean and well-groomed, hair short but well done. Tasteful makeup, soft eyes with a calm, self-assured, confident attitude. She approaches the bench. Stops, faces the court, places both hands on her hips, fingers forward, thumbs back. I note a slight smile; sort of a grin on her face.

"Ms. Touch?" asks the court.

"Yes, Your Honor," she politely responds.

"Ma'am, you are appearing on a citation for Assault III. How do you plead?"

"Guilty, Your Honor," she responds.

"Would you like to tell me what happened?"

"Well, Your Honor," she begins slowly. "I had been going out with this guy for a couple of months. We were just starting to get real serious, you know. That evening I had been talking to him on the phone to see if we could get together. He told me he had to do something at his dad's house but that he would call me later. So I watched TV for a while and then my sister wanted me to take her to the store to get some ice cream. We go to the store and park and, as we are walking up to the door, I see my boyfriend's car. He is in it and this girl is in the passenger seat. I know her. She is a real tramp, if you know what I mean."

At this point, the tone in her voice is getting more, shall we say, more tense.

She continues, "Well, I know what is going on here. So I go over to the car to tell him to go to hell and to tell her what I think of her. When I got to the passenger side of the car, I started to tell them off. She could see I was really mad, and she started to try to roll up the window. So I reached inside to stop her and we were sort of batting each other's hands around when he reached over to try to help her."

She pauses for a moment, then holds her hands out in front of her about waist high as if she were holding a basketball and continues, "His head was right there, you know. Just right there. So I grabbed a hand full of hair on the top of his head, pulled his head out the window and turned his face up a little, and hit him hard in the face three times. Once in the eye, then in his nose, and then I smashed his mouth. I shoved his stupid head back in the window and told him we were through and went in the store with my sister. When we came out, this nice officer (she then points to one of the officers in the courtroom) was waiting for me and gave me this ticket."

Having had her say, Ms. Touch inhales deeply, exhales, and then seems to brace herself for the consequences of her choice in reaction to having been the victim of a cheating, no-good dog. I note the skinned knuckles on her right hand. The tension leaves her body and with a quiet, contented resolve, she awaits the imposition of the sentence.

I take a moment to review the investigation report that confirms her statement. I use the time to collect my thoughts, try to maintain judicial composure, and review her criminal history. No prior arrests or convictions, not even any traffic tickets. A clean record.

"Ma'am," I begin, "you know this kind of behavior is not acceptable and cannot be tolerated"

"Yes, Your Honor," she responds sheepishly.

I then impose the minimum fine and give her sixty days to get it paid. She politely thanks the court and leaves the courtroom.

I call the name on the next citation and while that matter is being handled, I notice a young couple in the back of the courtroom stand and head toward the door. His left eye is black and swollen and the left side of his mouth has been split and is swollen, but healing. The "victim" and the "tramp." Him I recognize from numerous previous appearances before the court, one of "those." And based solely on "her" appearance ... a tramp, to be sure.

Though not acceptable conduct...