This morning, we rose, completed our morning ablutions, donned a new suit despite the 90 degree weather, freshly shinned shoes, left our gentleman's bowler that we use for legal matters in London on the shelf, and drove to lot 26 where we parked our semi-luxurious vehicle in a nicely empty lot- the continued payments for a spot in lot 26 being our one non-concession to covid19. We will wear a mask in court, but you can pry our Lot 26 parking card from our hands only when we are retired and living in Sun City Arizona.
Once in the old gray lady, we made the rounds, being suitably deferential to those who wear black for a living. We scoffed at prosecutors who have "victim wants max" tattooed on their foreheads, and we charmed clients and their families with our legal bravado and quick wit.
It was, in all aspects, a part of our life that we lived every day since before many of the judges and prosecutors who surreptitiously read this blog, were born.
Then came covid19, and the world will never be the same.
And maybe that's how it should be. Covid has moved an aching and creaky and somewhat ancient -in thought if not age- judiciary into the 21st century.
Long Live Zoom Court.
BTW in case you're keeping count, on Wednesday at least four people were killed at an Oklahoma hospital mass shooting.
You know the difference between the USA and Ukraine? The citizens of Ukraine know when they're under attack and can flee the war zone. In the USA every city, every public place, every school is a potential war zone.