Though we were both raised in the same faith, I am the practicing of the two of us. More often than not, I don't bother dragging C-Rock to church with me and instead go it alone. Whereas I thrive on the tradition, the words, the community... he just doesn't feel he gets anything out of the weekly hour of pew aerobics. The arrangement usually works for us because part of my personal beliefs is that no one has a right to say anything about another's journey with his or her maker. However, there have been the occasional exceptions to general balance we have found in our relationship with the church.
One such instance was when we were engaged and going through our pre-cana (a premarital series required in order to get married in our faith). As part of the required series, we had an option between a one-day workshop or a weekend retreat with other engaged couples. You might imagine that a quiet, private man who is not eager to attend weekly service wasn't so keen on the idea of devoting an entire weekend with strangers while we explored our faith and our feelings for one another. We battled it out over the course of several months, but in the end C-Rock screwed up with something big and "decided" to attend the retreat as penance.
Probably C-Rock's biggest gripe over the whole ordeal was having to share a small room with another man. (Apparently, he was under the mistaken impression that the church would have the unmarried couples room together.) The retreat was led by two older married couples and one priest. The whole weekend was planned to the minute and though we were exhausted by the end, the experience did force us to have many deep, one-on-one conversations with each other about topics that C-Rock wouldn't normally be in a mindset to discuss openly. By the time we had reached the final evening, I was feeling very comfortable and open. So, when we were given the chance to submit anonymous questions to the retreat leaders, I seized the opportunity to ask some real, though taboo questions. I gave it some serious thought and then submitted my anonymous slips of paper.
When the retreat leaders fetched the first question out of the hat, my heart quickly plunged into my stomach. It read, "My fiance and I are having a difficult time selecting which reading would be most appropriate for our ceremony. Do you have any suggestions?" The next several sickeningly innocent questions did nothing to alleviate my mounting mortification. But, I knew as long as I could remain calm when they got to my racy questions, my anonymity would be my refuge. The woman reading my first question appeared slightly startled, but thankfully remained composed as she read, "My fiance and I disagree regarding whether we ought to engage in a period of complete abstinence before our wedding. Do you think this would give us time to reflect on the non-physical aspects of our relationship or that the distance might become a wedge between us in the months leading up to our marriage?" A few brave individuals actually voiced opinions and the leaders responded with some helpful feedback. I was beyond relieved that no one could see how deeply I was blushing in the darkened room!
Unfortunately, before I'd had a chance to fully recover, the woman immediately draws out my second question. She reads, "My fiance and I disagree on whether pornography is acceptable in our household once we are married. Is it unreasonable that it makes me uncomfortable?" This time the leaders do not hold for audience input and instead launch into a lecture on the Catechism and how pornography is NEVER acceptable and... When C-Rock cuts her off by loudly exclaiming, "Then WHAT the HECK am I supposed to do during this (he raises his hands to gesture air quotes) "period of abstinence"?! Cover blown. I wanted to die.
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Monday, September 17, 2012
A Court Date with Destiny
In keeping with the theme of the previous post, I feel it's the appropriate time for the previously promised 'red light camera ticket' story...
I'd be afraid to ask C-Rock what he would consider the happiest day of his life, because I'm fairly certain the day he single-handedly defeated a city of Atlanta prosecutor in civil court would far outshine our wedding day or any other the two of us have shared.
Before getting married, our respective homes bordered the north and south ends of downtown Atlanta. Though only separated by a few miles, the journey could take anywhere from 5 to 30 minutes. One day, C-Rock arrived in a huff because he was fairly certain he had gotten caught by a red light camera. Sure enough, the ticket came in the mail a few weeks later along with a black-and-white photograph of his vehicle in the intersection. Do we think C-Rock decided to go ahead and pay the 75 dollar fine boys and girls? HECK NO! Don't be ridiculous.
As soon as the citation arrived, C-Rock buckled down in front of the computer for endless hours of internet research. He learned that because such violations are considered civil cases when brought to court, the burden of proof is much lower for the prosecution. He also learned that he did not have a right to 'plead the fifth' as there are no protections against self-incrimination in a civil violation case. When his court date finally arrived, he found himself in a group of five other defendants. C-Rock happened to be last and he watched as the prosecutor went down the line following the same procedure with each individual. First, the accused was called as a witness, then he or she was shown the picture of the respective vehicle in question running the red light, then he or she was asked if they owned the vehicle pictured. One by one, the defendants confirmed ownership and then, having admitted guilt, were sent to pay the full fine. When it was C-Rock's turn on the stand, he was shown the picture and asked if he owned the vehicle. He answered that he did not know. When questioned, he explained that the vehicle in the picture appeared white, while his vehicle was, in fact, not white. The prosecutor pushed further and asked, "Are you the owner of a Jeep Cherokee with license plate number XXX-XXX?" Again, he replied that he did not know. When the prosecutor incredulously pressed him to expound on his response, he truthfully explained that he did not have his license plate number memorized and could not answer with certainty whether he was the owner of the vehicle in question. When asked why not go outside and take a look at his plate, he truthfully explained that he had ridden his bicycle to court that day.
There was an extended period of back-and-forth between the prosecuting attorney and the judge, who (luckily for C-Rock) was a good humored fellow who insisted, "We are on a quest for the TRUTH here!" whenever the prosecutor tried to say that C-Rock was being a jerk and wasting the court's time. Ultimately, the prosecutor decided to call a recess so that she could obtain his vehicle registration documents. After a 45 minute recess, she returned with a witness, who was the clerk from her office. The clerk had pulled up the registration for the vehicle in question and presented a printout showing C-Rock as the owner. Though it looked like the final nail in the case against C-Rock, he was not ready to concede. He jumped at the chance when the judge gave him the opportunity to cross-examine the witness. He asked her what gave her the authority to pull such records. She explained that she was certified to do so and showed both him and the judge her certification. After examining the document for a moment, C-Rock brought the judge's attention the fact that her certification document was expired. The judge concurred that this document did not give her the authority to pull records. She explained that she had recently been re-certified, but had accidentally brought the expired certification. The prosecutor was forced to call a second recess.
Another half an hour later, the prosecuting attorney and her witness had returned to the stand. Again, C-Rock was given the opportunity to cross-examine the witness. This time she did provide a current certification, but C-Rock noticed that there was a line reading 'Not valid if the above is not signed' which it was not. C-Rock pointed this out to the judge and he agreed. C-Rock then asked that the trial be thrown out as the evidence was in inadmissible. By this point, the prosecutor was outraged! She furiously accused C-Rock of perjuring himself when he claimed the vehicle wasn't his. Further, she argued that even if the evidence was inadmissible, it could be used in this civil case because it directly contradicted some of his statements. C-Rock pushed back arguing that the evidence did NOT directly contradict any of his statements as all he had ever said was that he 'didn't know'. Despite the prosecutor's furious exclamations that C-Rock was 'making a joke of this court', the judge thought it over and agreed by ruling that since C-Rock had never denied owning the vehicle in question (only stating that he was unsure as to the ownership) that the evidence could not be used.
C-Rock describes his day in court as "one of the most satisfying triumphs of his life". I'm not claiming that there is any direct relation, however, we have noticed that the camera at this particular intersection is no longer there. The take home here? Don't memorize your identification numbers kids.
I'd be afraid to ask C-Rock what he would consider the happiest day of his life, because I'm fairly certain the day he single-handedly defeated a city of Atlanta prosecutor in civil court would far outshine our wedding day or any other the two of us have shared.
Before getting married, our respective homes bordered the north and south ends of downtown Atlanta. Though only separated by a few miles, the journey could take anywhere from 5 to 30 minutes. One day, C-Rock arrived in a huff because he was fairly certain he had gotten caught by a red light camera. Sure enough, the ticket came in the mail a few weeks later along with a black-and-white photograph of his vehicle in the intersection. Do we think C-Rock decided to go ahead and pay the 75 dollar fine boys and girls? HECK NO! Don't be ridiculous.
As soon as the citation arrived, C-Rock buckled down in front of the computer for endless hours of internet research. He learned that because such violations are considered civil cases when brought to court, the burden of proof is much lower for the prosecution. He also learned that he did not have a right to 'plead the fifth' as there are no protections against self-incrimination in a civil violation case. When his court date finally arrived, he found himself in a group of five other defendants. C-Rock happened to be last and he watched as the prosecutor went down the line following the same procedure with each individual. First, the accused was called as a witness, then he or she was shown the picture of the respective vehicle in question running the red light, then he or she was asked if they owned the vehicle pictured. One by one, the defendants confirmed ownership and then, having admitted guilt, were sent to pay the full fine. When it was C-Rock's turn on the stand, he was shown the picture and asked if he owned the vehicle. He answered that he did not know. When questioned, he explained that the vehicle in the picture appeared white, while his vehicle was, in fact, not white. The prosecutor pushed further and asked, "Are you the owner of a Jeep Cherokee with license plate number XXX-XXX?" Again, he replied that he did not know. When the prosecutor incredulously pressed him to expound on his response, he truthfully explained that he did not have his license plate number memorized and could not answer with certainty whether he was the owner of the vehicle in question. When asked why not go outside and take a look at his plate, he truthfully explained that he had ridden his bicycle to court that day.
There was an extended period of back-and-forth between the prosecuting attorney and the judge, who (luckily for C-Rock) was a good humored fellow who insisted, "We are on a quest for the TRUTH here!" whenever the prosecutor tried to say that C-Rock was being a jerk and wasting the court's time. Ultimately, the prosecutor decided to call a recess so that she could obtain his vehicle registration documents. After a 45 minute recess, she returned with a witness, who was the clerk from her office. The clerk had pulled up the registration for the vehicle in question and presented a printout showing C-Rock as the owner. Though it looked like the final nail in the case against C-Rock, he was not ready to concede. He jumped at the chance when the judge gave him the opportunity to cross-examine the witness. He asked her what gave her the authority to pull such records. She explained that she was certified to do so and showed both him and the judge her certification. After examining the document for a moment, C-Rock brought the judge's attention the fact that her certification document was expired. The judge concurred that this document did not give her the authority to pull records. She explained that she had recently been re-certified, but had accidentally brought the expired certification. The prosecutor was forced to call a second recess.
Another half an hour later, the prosecuting attorney and her witness had returned to the stand. Again, C-Rock was given the opportunity to cross-examine the witness. This time she did provide a current certification, but C-Rock noticed that there was a line reading 'Not valid if the above is not signed' which it was not. C-Rock pointed this out to the judge and he agreed. C-Rock then asked that the trial be thrown out as the evidence was in inadmissible. By this point, the prosecutor was outraged! She furiously accused C-Rock of perjuring himself when he claimed the vehicle wasn't his. Further, she argued that even if the evidence was inadmissible, it could be used in this civil case because it directly contradicted some of his statements. C-Rock pushed back arguing that the evidence did NOT directly contradict any of his statements as all he had ever said was that he 'didn't know'. Despite the prosecutor's furious exclamations that C-Rock was 'making a joke of this court', the judge thought it over and agreed by ruling that since C-Rock had never denied owning the vehicle in question (only stating that he was unsure as to the ownership) that the evidence could not be used.
C-Rock describes his day in court as "one of the most satisfying triumphs of his life". I'm not claiming that there is any direct relation, however, we have noticed that the camera at this particular intersection is no longer there. The take home here? Don't memorize your identification numbers kids.
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Serving (a) Hard Time
I've never met a man less inclined to brag than C-Rock. Not to say that 'humble' is necessarily fitting, but he does not particularly enjoy sharing good news with loved ones. He's pretty quiet in person and has a particular distaste for talking on the phone. This is why the occasional time he has called me, bursting with some story stands out so clearly in memory. Almost every time this has happened, it is because he has successfully wriggled his way out of some sort of trouble.
If there's one thing C-Rock likes less than talking on the phone, it's the traffic cops of downtown Atlanta. On a daily basis, tax payer dollars go towards shutting down the automated traffic lights at multiple intersections so that traffic cops can "help" the traffic flow "more efficiently". This endless source of frustration is unpredictable as there is almost always some event going on in addition to the regular rush hour patterns. One day, C-Rock fell victim to one of these glorified crossing guards as he attempted to walk across the street from his office building to the gym. C-Rock is not a patient man and he had already been waiting several minutes with a group of fellow-pedestrians when he gave up and crossed without the officer's authorization. By the time she noticed, he was already across the street. She yelled at him to immediately return to the corner he had just left. His reaction was incredulous since her argument was that because it was unsafe for him to cross without her saying so, that he should cross the same street an additional two times. He refused saying, "What are you going to do? Incarcerate me for jaywalking?!" She decided that was, in fact, a splendid idea. She stopped traffic so that she could walk over to him where she cuffed him and called for back-up. (Keep in mind, this was all a stones throw away from C-Rock's place of employment as a respectable network engineer.) As they waited for back-up, C-Rock noticed the cuffs had left a bit of a red mark on his skin. He says to the officer, "Excuse me ma'am, but I appear to have received a laceration on my wrist." Exasperated, she followed protocol by asking him if he required an ambulance for medical assistance. He replied that he did think he would need medical assistance, but perhaps if she just let him go, he could seek it on his own. She obliged.
If there's one thing C-Rock likes less than talking on the phone, it's the traffic cops of downtown Atlanta. On a daily basis, tax payer dollars go towards shutting down the automated traffic lights at multiple intersections so that traffic cops can "help" the traffic flow "more efficiently". This endless source of frustration is unpredictable as there is almost always some event going on in addition to the regular rush hour patterns. One day, C-Rock fell victim to one of these glorified crossing guards as he attempted to walk across the street from his office building to the gym. C-Rock is not a patient man and he had already been waiting several minutes with a group of fellow-pedestrians when he gave up and crossed without the officer's authorization. By the time she noticed, he was already across the street. She yelled at him to immediately return to the corner he had just left. His reaction was incredulous since her argument was that because it was unsafe for him to cross without her saying so, that he should cross the same street an additional two times. He refused saying, "What are you going to do? Incarcerate me for jaywalking?!" She decided that was, in fact, a splendid idea. She stopped traffic so that she could walk over to him where she cuffed him and called for back-up. (Keep in mind, this was all a stones throw away from C-Rock's place of employment as a respectable network engineer.) As they waited for back-up, C-Rock noticed the cuffs had left a bit of a red mark on his skin. He says to the officer, "Excuse me ma'am, but I appear to have received a laceration on my wrist." Exasperated, she followed protocol by asking him if he required an ambulance for medical assistance. He replied that he did think he would need medical assistance, but perhaps if she just let him go, he could seek it on his own. She obliged.
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