Showing posts with label stuff you didn't know judges do. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stuff you didn't know judges do. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 15, 2023

2023/17. ONE LAST KISS


Betcha didn’t know this: judges, like doctors, take turns being “on call”. Well, maybe you knew it. I didn’t, fifteen years ago, but I do now. In fact, just for old time’s sake, I snapped this photo from my side of the bed last night when Dave got up to sign a warrant. And that was his second one since midnight. Though his retirement festivities were last Thursday, he’s still running hard until the gig is up, which is tomorrow. Don’t you think it’s funny he’s on call his very last week as a judge? Maybe they were trying to make retirement look extra good.

Another thing I would not have guessed when Dave took this position is how much homework is involved. Serious amounts of late-night homework! My typical late evening view of Dave, if we are lucky enough to have a mutual sitting-down opportunity, is him seated on the couch, his feet up on the coffee table, with a stack of papers on his lap, a pen in his hand, his eyes scanning reams of paperwork. He’s preparing for the next day’s hearings. (This job would do me in! SO much reading!) I’m not sure he’ll know what to do without a stack of papers in his lap. Or, for that matter, I’m not sure what he’s going to do on vacation without checking his email for matters that need his review and signature.

a typical night time view from where I sit.
(Note the Ruffles.)

Also, now we’ll have a couple extra black silk dresses hanging in our closet, with the initials D.M.C. embroidered inside the collar.

 
Last day in the robes.

Last night, for fun, I jumped back to the very first entry I ever made in my blog. That was 15 years and 774 entries ago. Ironically that entry was about Dave’s first day as a judge. I talked about his being sworn in as 7:30 am and getting right to work that very day, the weight of his silk robes being strangely heavy.  Before his first case arrived, I asked permission to approach the bench. He laughed and nodded. I strolled up and planted a kiss on his lips. He leaned forward and I stretched up. 

I’ve been stretching up to meet him ever since.

Today, on his last day of hearings, my sister Libby and I decided to visit the courtroom and observe, like we did on the day he was sworn in. His bailiff, when the judge entered, announced, with a delightful flair:

"All rise for the honorable, 
and legendary, 
Judge David M. Connors."

Last day in court.
Dave flanked by his bailiff Stan and assistant Kalin.

When his last case was heard I asked permission to approach the bench one last time. I strolled on up, stretched my neck, and planted one last kiss on the man in the dress.

Thank goodness I have no desire to ever say to him, (as sadly a pitiful number of women say to their husbands):

"I’ll see you in court!"