On the Friday before Memorial Day, I went to court. With a friend to attend the meeting with the judge of another friend who has been incarcerated for one hundred days because his family is fearful. I wrote an amusing prank-type article about my friend Jay on April 1st, and sad to say that he is still in the Muscogee County Lock-up. Really.
I don't know the whole story, and honestly, don't want to know what I already do - that he and his family, at least one sister and one brother, plus the accompanying in-laws/spouses, who along with an attorney were all there in court. They are apparently so dysfunctional his family called the sheriff to have him arrested when he defied a peace warrant, by making a phone call to his sister.
The judge said on Friday that he knew they did not want him to be set free, but to keep him locked up was to deny him his civil rights, and he was ordering his release this week. It's all a sad, tale - but what it has done for me, other than becoming an unintentional sounding board and voyer, makes me so thankful for the relative normality of my own little weird, idosyncrasies. Did you notice the word 'crasy' in the middle of that? I have long been convinced that we all come from dysfunctional DNA, but seeing the stuff hanging out on other people's clotheslines, sure does make you thankful for your own little rattty tatty wash...
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