Bond motions are generally not a complicated affair, especially in district court. It is my unfounded belief that the underlying motivation of a bond motion in district court is to let the defendant know and see, first hand, that his or her attorney is, indeed, involved in the case. In a lot of instances, it seems that the bond is reasonable and generally cannot be lowered any further, or, the bond was recently established, in which case, the bond motion is heard, again in my humble opinion, too early. I do not fault criminal defense attorneys for this underlying motive. Having had clients who (1) do not listen to the advice of counsel, meaning my advice, and (2) get mad at you when they do not follow your advice and wind up in more trouble, I understand filing bond motions to keep your clients happy. I do. Another reason why I do not mind bond motions too much is because they give another opportunity for random and bizarre statements. The following statements were made during a bond motion yesterday.
Charge: 2 Counts of Trafficking a Schedule II Controlled Substance (Cocaine)
Bond: $105,000
The defendant appears on four televisions screens placed throughout the courtroom. He is wearing the standard orange jumpsuit, and he has a stoic, unfeeling look about him. Although the defendant is currently housed in the jail which is in the building next door to the courtroom, he is able to see the judge, the prosecutor, representatives from Pretrial Services (a wonderful service which interviews inmates in order to present relevant information to the court regarding a defendant's conditions of release from jail), and the defense attorney.
The defense attorney, who is wearing a stylish, conservative suit, sits down. Behind him are about seven or eight of the defendant's friends and family, including two of the defendant's ex-girlfriends. Unlike the defense attorney, they are all in different classifications of attire, although I would not characterize any of the attire as stylish and conservative. They have all come on the defendant's behalf in an attempt to have the judge lower the bond. The defense attorney speaks first, as it is his bond motion.
The defense attorney speaks of the defendant's long-standing ties to the community. He mentions and points out to the court the friends and family of the defendant. Apparently, the defendant has small children, and the defendant believes, if released, he will be able to maintain the job that he currently has. The defense attorney continues to speak. While he is speaking, I am flipping through the Prosecution Summary, which law enforcement provides whenever the defendant is charged with a felony.
After the defense attorney finishes, the judge looks to me. I inform the court that the defendant is charged with Trafficking, and, in fact, twice the amount necessary for a Trafficking charge was located on the defendant's person. It was at this juncture that the following exchanges occurred:
Judge: How many grams is two and a quarter ounces?
Me: I don't know Judge. I'm an American and refuse to convert to the metric system.
Officer: A gram is about one packet of Sweet-N-Low.
Different Officer: I think an ounce is something like eighteen or nineteen grams.
Me: It seems the defendant was found with approximately fifty-six Sweet-N-Low packets of crack. Your Honor, I should mention that the crack was found in his crotch area.
Judge: How many grams is a crack rock?
Me: I don't know.
Judge: How much is the street value for 26 grams of cocaine?
Me: I don't know, Your Honor.
Officer: I don't know right of the top of my head. I wasn't on vice.
Audience Member: About $2,500.
Judge: It's probably best for the audience members not to answer these questions.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
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2 comments:
*ROFL* Now I understand why Night Court was so funny. The writers just went to down to their local courthouse and took notes. I think that I'm going to schedule a few days off a month just to go down to court. nodnod You are too funny.
It is amazing what is said during a typical day. Unfortunately, district court is not a court of record, so I will never truly see what is said. I think my favorite part of that whole day is that I got to reaffirm my Americanness and refused to even attempt to convert ounces to grams. Down with the measuring system of Pinko-Commie-Bastards!!!
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