Day in the life of a small claims jurist

I was sitting in First Parish Court the other day waiting for my turn in a routine default judgment matter.  The room was a modern space, brightly lit and filled with rows of benches where people charged with various traffic violations or seeking to settle small civil disputes were restlessly gathered.  On the right hand side of the room there was a long bench where the few lawyers were seated.

All of the court personnel were stern-faced and when the judge quickly entered the room they became even more serious.  The judge looked like a middle linebacker.  He had a buzzcut and his black robe sported a number of patriotic pins.  As he settled into his chair (next to a large American flag) a cellphone went off in the audience, causing his somber expression to become a full-fledged scowl.  The baliff immediately approached the offender and bellowed "TURN OFF ALL CELLPHONES NOW!"  The audience, which was a motley group of poorly dressed people who seemed to thrive off of ignoring authority, was largely unfazed. The young tatooed man slowly took out his phone and turned it off.

I felt surrounded by people who'd spent their early years in detention hall.  Most of them were now traffic violators who had come to court to advance what they thought would be compelling excuses for their misdeeds.  And then, of course, there were the lawyers.

The minute clerk called the first case and two lawyers approached the bench and began arguing their case.  The judge had ruled adversely in an eviction case and so the losing lawyer filed a motion for a new trial.  If you weren't a lawyer you might not grasp that the argument to the judge, essentially, was "you are so inept you applied the wrong law, but if I just let you know about your grevious mistake then you'll rule in my favor."  If you just focused solely on how confident the lawyer sounded you might think that there was actually a chance that he could win.  Most lawyers can appear totally confident, even when they know have no shot.  I kept waiting for the fireworks, but the judge didn't move.

He listened patiently for a few minutes, until the attorney said: "and we've cited a case directly on point from the Louisiana Supreme Court..."  At that point, the judge boomed in a voice laced with sarcasm and derision:  "You're talking about that case that was decided in the year 1878?"

Not surprisingly the judge then denied the motion.  The lawyer, however, acted as if the judge had just overruled Roe v. Wade. 

I couldn't help smiling. First, watching the lawyer pretend to believe the judge was going to change his mind was funny.  But, even more humorous was the notion that a case decided over a 100 years ago would compel the judge to admit he was wrong.  It reminded me of an episode of the Rockford Files where Jim's attorney Beth Davenport was trying to convince the judge to let him off the hook for something stupid he'd done.  With an air monunumental seriousness she informs the judge that the Ramshackle case is 'right on point' and that compels him to let Rockford off the hook.

"Is this the case from 1871, counselor"? the judge asks.

"Yes it is."

"The case where the stagecoach was surrounded by attacking indians, Ms Davenport?"

"Yes, your honor."

"Counselor, give me a break."

I was pondering how that losing lawyer might learn something by watching the Rockford files when another cellphone went off.  The judge jumped up and quickly scanned the audience as a elderly spanish woman fumbled with her phone, which was playing a bouncy little tune that lasted for about 5 seconds, but seemed like a lot longer.  "TAKE THAT PHONE FROM HER BALIFF!!!" the judge commanded.

The woman was confused because she didn't speak English, and probably didn't hear very well, and seemed to have no idea of what was going on.  She did, however, understand that the Baliff's outstretched hand was there to receive her phone, so she hesitantly placed it there as the judge ranted about the inherent evils of cellphones.  "You can pick it up tomorrow," the judge then told her.  One of the people sitting behind her translated.  The judge overheard the translation and seized upon one key word.

"Yes, mañana," he said.  It seemed as though he was saying it more to himself, which would explain why his tone seemed to carry more than just a hint of painful resignation.

Comments

[yclipse]

I have had occasion to cite to an 1880s-era case from time to time, when I have not been able to find more recent authority.

Is there a rule that no one has told me about, saying that the precedential value of a case wears off after 120 years have passed?

That could have been any day of the week in Judge Giacobbe's court when I prosecuted there several years back. Thanks for the laugh.

[Ernie]

I'm not saying that precedent wears off after time, but it behooves lawyers to examine the underpinnings of cases that old, especially since judges (and that's who we're trying to persuade, right?) tend to focus on distinctions between cases and may not be eager to apply a case that old unless it's clearly still applicable. In other words, it's not whether I think old cases are without value; it's whether judges think they are, and often they are disinclined to rely on old cases. At least that's a phenomenon I've often observed.

[Vicky]

Watching The Rockford Files can help you solve jus' about any problem in life. :~)

[Francis Puertos]

You should check out the battle overNet Neutrality. There is a great Bill Moyer's story on it on pbs. He covered Lafayettes battle to build their own network and an independent community based radio station from the gulf coast that came to life during and after katrina. It's about Democracy and community.

There is a lot at stake, this could become theInternet of Tomorrow!.

[Aaron]

Having had to show up in a few courts like that myself, it does seem like the judge is more of an irate vice-principal than an arbiter of law. I've seen more than a few instances of judges going all Judge Judy on some guy who was caught with a crack pipe for the third time. Very effective.