As most of you know, the Harris County Criminal Justice Center, like many courthouses around the country, is using Zoom video conferences to conduct court appearances and hearings. With several weeks of this under our belts, certain personalities for Zoomers have emerged and Cabin Fever-induced irritability has manifested. In the spirit of Stupid Elevator People (and its lesser-known Addendum to the Elevator People), I now present to you the Top 10 Aggravating Zoom People.
10. Zany Background Guy -- I'm not exactly sure why Zoom provides whimsical backdrops for users, but I have to assume that it was designed for kindergarten teachers who need to talk to their students. It's not really necessary for licensed attorneys and judges. From those of you who look like you are broadcasting live from the Golden Gate Bridge to those of you with motivational messages as a background, it really isn't necessary. Most conspicuous offender: Joe Vinas with his "Shall We Play a Game?" backdrop which harkens back to 1983's obscure nerd movie Wargames. Objection, Joe, Relevance.
9. The Radio Prosecutor -- This goes out to the prosecutor who wants to make sure that absolutely nothing about the Zoom video conference gives away anything about his or her personal appearance, including, but not limited to, what they look like without the makeup that they definitely will not be putting on this morning. This prosecutor's video screen is filled only with big block letters announcing his or (usually) her name. When you indignantly read probable cause, your name flashes across the screen like Closed Captioning from the Gods. Most conspicuous offender: Casey Little, whose zealous advocacy on behalf of the State, coupled with her name on the screen, makes it feel like Justice is screaming at you through a bullhorn.
8. The "I'm Not That Great with Technology" Close Talker -- This is the lawyer who has been, um, let's just say "practicing for awhile" that is still trying to figure out what is going on with all of this technology crap. Rather than turning up the speaker on his or her computer, he or she edges in real close to the computer screen and yells into the microphone. It comes across as a really angry extreme close up. Most conspicuous offender: Skip Cornelius, who in a conference yesterday was yelling both when he was angry and when he wasn't. The best part of this video was seeing his brother, Terry, standing over Skip's shoulder through the whole thing. I couldn't tell if Terry was Skip's tech help or just waiting on him to go play golf.
7. The "Hey! I just got here!" Guy --This tone-deaf Zoomer is the guy who just logged into a Zoom docket that has been going for some time, but seems unaware of the fact that his arrival is really not that remarkable of an event. Upon logging on, he or she immediately begins talking to the judge as if the judge had been sitting there all morning just waiting for the lawyer to arrive. I'm not sure if this is a lack of technology awareness or just simple rudeness. Would you walk into a courtroom under normal circumstances and immediately demand attention? No? Then mute yourself and shut up until called upon. Most conspicuous offender: Every criminal defense attorney who has been licensed for less than a year.
6. The Grey Poupon Background Guy -- This is the lawyer who has found the most sophisticated looking place to set up his or her computer so that you can admire the interior decorating. Whether you are sitting in front of your diplomas at your office (yes, Brian Roberts, we all are licensed by the State Bar of Texas) or just want to show how nice your house is, we get it. You are fancier than the guys in the Grey Poupon commercials. Most conspicuous offender: Todd Dupont, who strategically placed his computer camera facing a doorway with perfectly balanced, tasteful artwork on either side of it. It was elegant and understated. Less elegant and understated: the short sleeve buttondown shirt you were wearing. Hey, Detective Sipowicz, NYPD Blue went off the air in 2005.
5. The Muting Refuser -- Here's a fun fact about Zoom that some people seem to have not picked up on yet. When you are the person talking (or making noise), the software gives you the spotlight and you take up the main screen. Kind of like in an interview via satellite on the news. Some Zoom participants either don't know how to mute their microphones or just refuse to. Every time they (or someone or something at their location) makes a noise, we all hear it and the camera cuts to you. If your dogs are barking or your kids are yelling, we can all hear it and we know it is coming from you because the camera zooms in on your face. Most conspicuous offender: Eileen Bogar, who recently seemed to be battling allergies during a Zoom conference. Her sniffling and sneezing led to multiple staccato cutaways to her like a Claritin commercial meshing with a 1990s Pop Art video while other lawyers were talking to the judge.
4. The "I'm here to Socialize" Guy -- This goes out to the attorney whose business with court was brief and concluded, but still keeps on talking to the judge, prosecutor and/or other attorneys, much to the aggravation of the other attorneys waiting to speak to the Court. Shut up, man. Some of us need to get done with this Zoom conference so we can catch The Price Is Right. Most conspicuous offender: Murray Newman. Sorry, everybody. I miss y'all!
3. The "I'm Not In Court, You Can't Tell Me What to Wear" Guy -- Sure, it's a pandemic and we are all broadcasting from home. None of us are dressed in our Sunday Best, exactly. I've modeled some of my finest concert t-shirts from the past decade myself. But then there's that guy who has to take it a step too far by clearly getting dressed (or not) to show his irreverence for the situation. Apparently, this became so out of control in Florida (go figure) that a judge had to drop the hammer on some attorneys who were appearing a little too laid back in their video appearances. Most conspicuous offender: Mark Lipkin, who is rumored to have appeared shirtless in a recent Zoom appearance in court.
2. The Boring Background Prosecutor -- This one describes the prosecutor with the least imaginative background while talking. While some prosecutors are sitting at their breakfast table or perhaps home office, the Boring Background Prosecutor has selected the blandest setting possible to set up shop. Also qualifying under this category is the prosecutor who has selected something really boring as their artificial backdrop. Seriously, if you are going to use a backdrop, be somewhat imaginative. A courtroom setting and/or a view of the CJC, for instance, is lame, Ryan McLearen. Most conspicuous offender: Cristina Platter, who conferenced in from a white-walled room devoid of photos, artwork, windows, or color. I was concerned that perhaps she had broken into a vacant apartment for the conference call. Seriously, I've seen hostage videos filmed in locations that showed more pizzazz.
1. The "Let Me Take You on A Journey" Attorney -- This is the lawyer on a laptop who just can't sit still while waiting for his or her turn to talk. He or she picks up the laptop and goes for a stroll around the house. This, as it turns out, also makes the camera cut to you and gives everyone watching the screen a severe case of sea sickness-induced nausea. For the love of God, please stop. I will chip in to get you a desktop, just please stop moving. You have the option of turning the camera off for whatever reason you need. Movement is one of those reasons! Most conspicuous offender: Beth Exley, who took us all on an IMAX-worthy-tour-of-her-house-as-seen-over-her-shoulder yesterday in the 185th Zoom conference.
So, there you have it. If you have additional categories that you would like to add, please do so in the comments. If I named you in this post, don't be mad. I wouldn't have named you if I didn't think you could take a joke!
Tuesday, April 21, 2020
Lucy Forbes for State Bar Director
I know everyone has a lot on their plates with everything going on at the moment, but if you are an attorney reading this, I hope you will take time to vote in the State Bar elections today.
The deadline is at the end of the month and the ballot is very short. It literally takes less than a minute to vote and you can do it by clicking on this link: https://www.esc-vote.com/SBOT/default.asp?L3=email
You should have received an e-mail about voting in the race that included your Voter Authorization Number (VAN), but if you can't find that e-mail, the above link will locate it for you. Just please take the time to vote.
I don't normally pay too much attention to the State Bar elections, but in this race, I wanted to ask you to vote for my friend, Lucy Forbes, who is running for District Four, Place Four on the Texas State Bar Board of Directors.
Although Lucy primarily practices in the Civil Appellate field of law, she has spent the past months reaching out to those of us who practice Criminal Law in an effort to learn the issues that we face in our line of work. She is Baylor Law School graduate who has been practicing for 21 years. She has listened at length and has a strong desire to help fix those problems that we may have. She definitely wants to make sure that the State Bar is more responsive to the needs and issues that the Criminal Bar faces.
I wholeheartedly recommend Lucy based on her years of experience, her enthusiasm, and her work ethic. She is someone who is here to help and we would all benefit from having her on the Board of Directors.
Her opponent is a member of Kim Ogg's upper administration, and that's the only comment I will make about that.
The deadline is at the end of the month and the ballot is very short. It literally takes less than a minute to vote and you can do it by clicking on this link: https://www.esc-vote.com/SBOT/default.asp?L3=email
You should have received an e-mail about voting in the race that included your Voter Authorization Number (VAN), but if you can't find that e-mail, the above link will locate it for you. Just please take the time to vote.
I don't normally pay too much attention to the State Bar elections, but in this race, I wanted to ask you to vote for my friend, Lucy Forbes, who is running for District Four, Place Four on the Texas State Bar Board of Directors.
Although Lucy primarily practices in the Civil Appellate field of law, she has spent the past months reaching out to those of us who practice Criminal Law in an effort to learn the issues that we face in our line of work. She is Baylor Law School graduate who has been practicing for 21 years. She has listened at length and has a strong desire to help fix those problems that we may have. She definitely wants to make sure that the State Bar is more responsive to the needs and issues that the Criminal Bar faces.
I wholeheartedly recommend Lucy based on her years of experience, her enthusiasm, and her work ethic. She is someone who is here to help and we would all benefit from having her on the Board of Directors.
Her opponent is a member of Kim Ogg's upper administration, and that's the only comment I will make about that.
Friday, April 17, 2020
Kim Ogg's Pandemic Witch Hunt
It started innocuously enough, a little over a month ago. That seems like a lifetime ago, now, doesn't it? The Coronavirus was just beginning to take a foothold on the western side of the country and maybe a case or two had been identified in Harris County.
As noted in an earlier post, the Office was already working around-the-clock to deal with the virus by relaxing the dress code. They weren't sending their non-essential employees home back then, for some reason. But Division Chief Tanisha Manning decided to get out ahead of the crisis by creating a worksheet to keep track of the Office's internal mortality rate.
As noted in an earlier post, the Office was already working around-the-clock to deal with the virus by relaxing the dress code. They weren't sending their non-essential employees home back then, for some reason. But Division Chief Tanisha Manning decided to get out ahead of the crisis by creating a worksheet to keep track of the Office's internal mortality rate.
Since the powers that be had no intention of issuing a blanket "stay-at-home" order at that time, the Office clearly needed to keep track of those less dedicated employees who weren't coming into work. On its face, the chart is laughable. So much so that I initially was curious as to whether or not it had been created facetiously.
The beautifully color-coded chart for each day of the work week allowed for supervisors to document those employees within their respective divisions who were missing work for 1) non-COVID related reasons, 2) quarantining without symptoms, 3) being diagnosed with COVID or showing symptoms, or 4) something having to do with being in Court or at the Office's headquarters at 500 Jefferson. The crown jewel of this ridiculous worksheet, however, was the top portion, which requested notification of those "Employees Seriously Ill or who have Passed Away due to COVID-19."
As one employee noted: "I'm supposed to call in dead?"
To be fair, Tanisha didn't come up with the questions being asked; those were apparently from the overarching Harris County government. But, she did make it a very pretty worksheet that was sent out to other employees. It wasn't really that big a deal, but it caused a couple of gallows-humor inspired chuckles amongst many of the employees at the Office. Others took it to be an all-too-frightening warning. That same morning was when news of an exposed prosecutor had resulted in a shutdown of the 8th floor of the CJC and people in HAZMAT suits were greeting visitors when they entered the building.
At some point, someone took a photograph of the worksheet while it was displayed on a computer monitor and sent it to a friend or two. And that's where the trouble started.
A troublemaking, bald-headed defense attorney (who strangely enough was not me) posted that photo on Facebook and lightly made fun of it.
It is important to keep the timeframe in context here, because it's very relevant.
The day after this silly worksheet came out, everything got real serious over at the CJC. Prosecutors were sent home and told to work from there. The CJC began aggressively shutting down bond dockets and keeping people out of the building entirely. In short, the crisis of the coronavirus was hitting home and we were all in full-fledged crisis mode.
But for Kim Ogg, the real crisis wasn't the coronavirus.
It was finding out whoever leaked that photograph to a defense attorney. It was time for a good old-fashioned witch hunt.
For what it's worth, I had no idea that any of this was going on at the time. My first clue that something was afoot came when I e-mailed a senior Felony Chief prosecutor about a case and never heard back. Having dealt with this Chief before on many occasions and knowing him to be an extremely responsible and diligent prosecutor, I found this to be unusual. I made mention to someone else that I found this to be unusual. That person then told me the story that I'm about to tell you (if you don't already know it).
Now, before going any further, I want to make a couple of things VERY clear. By the time you get to the end of this blog post, you will understand why. The first thing I want made clear is that I am 100% confident in the information I'm about to write. The second thing is that I received this information from multiple, multiple sources and I'm not going to name them under any circumstances. If Kim Ogg would like to know them, she can call me on my direct line at 713-BITE-MYASS. And finally, I'm not going to name the prosecutors targeted in this witch hunt. They were all treated unfairly and I have no intention of making it worse for them by naming them. If you comment on this post and name any of them, I won't be publishing your comment.
As I was saying . . .
While everyone else was pulling together to help keep the Criminal Justice System moving forward, Crazy Kim Ogg was ramping up her own version of the Spanish Inquisition. She dispatched her Chief Investigator Steve Clappart and his team of investigators to locate the dastardly, disloyal person who had shared the photograph. Prosecutors were interrogated and were asked whether or not they had received the picture, and if so, had they forwarded it on to anyone outside the Office.
A senior felony chief prosecutor acknowledged having received the photo and sending it to a handful of other prosecutors but told the investigator that it had not been sent to anyone outside the Office. Stunningly, the prosecutor was immediately suspended and the prosecutor's county-issued computer was confiscated. The investigator then asked for the prosecutor to turn over the prosecutor's personal cell phone for downloading, and the prosecutor declined.
So to satisfy Kim Ogg's paranoia, a prosecutor (who was not the source of the photo, nor the person who forwarded said photo to the above-mentioned bald defense attorney) was suspended for sharing the photo with a group of prosecutors.
Let that sink in for just a moment.
With the coronavirus in full effect and everyone is involved in a group effort to help, Kim Ogg sidelines an experienced Felony District Court Chief for her arbitrary belief that the prosecutor was somehow "disloyal."
Seem stupid and paranoid? Probably because it is.
But wait, there's more. Kim Ogg and Chief Stormtrooper Clappart would do something similar to six more senior prosecutors -- four additional District Court Chiefs, and two senior Felony Twos. Those six wouldn't actually be suspended, but they did have either Clappart or one of his investigators show up at their doors to confiscate their work computers for a good old-fashioned Disloyalty Download. Again, the investigators were told to request the personal cell phones of all of those prosecutors for download, and again all were denied.
As a side note, I really want to give a huge shout out to Harris County District Attorney Chief Investigator Steve Clappart. You have really come a long way from the olden days when you were a respected Homicide investigator with HPD. From drafting a bullshit Capital Murder warrant to charge a teenager as an alternate suspect on behalf of David Temple's defense team to shaking down senior prosecutors for their personal cell phones. You've got to be so proud. I guess what your former colleagues think of you no longer matters. Hey, I've got a mystery for an old Homicide guy: figure out who murdered your reputation. SPOILER ALERT: It was you.
So, back to the Mad Queen.
Although not suspended, the additional six prosecutors no longer had their computers, which drastically reduced their ability to do their jobs while the rest of us were trying to figure out Zoom conferences and other things that were desperately needed in the crisis. Not just any prosecutors, but senior prosecutors who are all highly respected for the jobs that they do. These were the exact people who needed to be working at full capacity through this crisis, not sidelined to satisfy Kim's paranoia.
The ultimate irony in this was that none of those seven sidelined prosecutors either a) took the photo; b) shared the photo with the defense attorney; nor c) shared it outside of the Office. They all just got punished for refusing to turn over their private cell phones to the idiots running the witch hunt.
Kim's ego-fueled paranoia couldn't have come at a worse time. But it wasn't over yet.
All of the prosecutors were told to come into the Office or participate in a Zoom conference with the Empress herself. All had refused to turn over their personal cell phones to Clappart and Company, but perhaps they would cave when asked by Ogg herself. Ogg told them all that they could be fired for failing to turn over their personal phones for download. They all stood their ground, refusing to turn over their personal, private data in an effort to extinguish Kim's lunacy.
In the middle of this, the actual prosecutor who had sent the picture to the defense came forward. This prosecutor was also a respected Felony District Court Chief who didn't want anyone else having to suffer Kim's wrath for something that they hadn't done. The prosecutor explained that the purpose of sharing the photo had been out of concern, not mockery. The prosecutor offered up their personal cell phone. Ironically, the investigator declined to take it.
That was a week or so ago. Time kind of runs together these days. Ultimately the Original Seven prosecutors all received letters of reprimand in their files for their alleged insubordination for failing to turn over their phones. They have been told that they all are going to be transferred out of their current assignments immediately, on the off chance that any of them were happy where they were.
Today, the prosecutor who came forward was fired. I'm not sure what exactly the rationale was behind firing somebody who a) didn't break the law; b) didn't break an actual rule in the Office's Operation manual; and c) was honest about the prosecutor's involvement in the "scandal." As with the Original Seven, this prosecutor had a stellar reputation for leadership and being reasonable. Those things are desperately needed right now.
All to satisfy the ego-driven bully currently residing as the Harris County District Attorney.
Kim, you've jumped from being a terrible public servant to just being a terrible person, in general. You possess none of the qualities of leadership that the prosecutors you punished all have. You are petty and vindictive, and this ridiculous witch hunt has shown that Public Interest and Safety is far less important to you than your own ego and misguided definitions of loyalty.
I'm embarrassed of you and I'm embarrassed for you.
To the eight of you who got tangled up in this stupid witch hunt, I'm sure that you know your reputations for both integrity and talent far outshine anything that Kim Ogg has ever accomplished in her career.
Wednesday, April 15, 2020
Court Today
I went to court today.
I didn't want to.
I mean, I really didn't want to. Unlike in past disasters, when I found a level of excitement and fun riding out a hurricane or being one of the first people to go back to Downtown Houston after a flood, my courage ran out when it came to the thought of an invisible virus that could kill me and any other family members that I spread it to. For the past several weeks, my family and I have been staying at our lake house out in the middle of nowhere. No one can accuse me of not taking the current crisis seriously.
Turns out, as a leukemia survivor who went through chemotherapy, I fall under that unpleasant category of "immunocompromised." My 6-year-old son, who had his own bout of Immune Thrombocytopenic Purpura (ITP) a couple of years ago falls into the same category. There are plenty of other Harris County CJC regulars that fall into the category as well. Probably more than you or I even are aware of.
So trust me when I emphasize that I really didn't want to go to court today. I've been dreading it all week.
But it couldn't be helped. I didn't have to go to court because of a judge being unreasonable about attendance, nor did I feel a financial obligation to show up. On the whole, I think that almost all of the courts have come into line about not requiring personal appearances. The court where I made my appearance was, without question, one of the leaders in waiving appearances for attorneys and on-bond defendants.
What compelled me to go in was that my client had the opportunity to go home from jail today with a reasonable plea bargain offer. But due to a language barrier (with a semi-rare dialect from an overseas nation) coupled with some possible mental health issues, I needed to be there in person with an interpreter if there was any hope of ensuring that my client was properly informed of his rights and had the ability to make an informed decision.
So, this morning, I got up, grabbed a set of latex gloves and an N95 mask and headed off to Downtown. I stopped at Ace Hardware on the way to see if they had acooler-looking better mask than the one I had, but unfortunately, they were sold out. I was somewhat surprised that there was still a moderate amount of traffic on the ride into Downtown. It wasn't gridlock but it wasn't free sailing, either.
Downtown had a healthy amount of traffic too, although nothing too bad. I got to the garage, masked and gloved up and headed down the elevator. Because I'm a forgetful dumbass, I had forgotten my Frequent Visitor Badge at the lake house. I was greeted at security by a lady who tried to take my temperature. It didn't work until the fifth try, which gave me a ton of confidence that it was working properly. I registered a 95 and was allowed to proceed into the building. Since I had forgotten my badge, I had to take off my shoes and belt for the metal detectors.
I swear I could feel coronavirus permeating from the floor and through my socks when I went through.
The CJC was a ghost town. There were signs on the elevators that forbid more than two riders at a time, but it wasn't an issue. I had the elevator all to myself. There was one other attorney in the court when I got there, and he was hanging out in the jury room. I went into the courtroom to see if my interpreter had showed up early, by any chance. He hadn't, so I hung out with the bailiffs and caught up on how everyone was doing. Most of the lights were off in the courtroom, which made a depressing situation feel even more depressing.
The judge showed up promptly at 9 a.m. Normally, he is one of the most cheerful and cordial people in the courtroom, but he seemed beatdown today. He was pleasant, but he wasn't himself. He seemed tired and sad. Quite frankly, I don't know how he could avoid being tired and sad. He's been working his ass off since the crisis hit. I've done many zoom conferences over the past several weeks and he's always in court, handling his docket. He's not zooming in. He's there in person.
I told him the details of the anticipated plea bargain and he said, sadly: "I'm sorry you have to be here. I've been trying to keep anyone from having to be here."
I told him that it couldn't be avoided. About that time, the interpreter showed up -- a nice, cheerful man who I had dealt with on other court settings. He didn't bring a mask or gloves, but seemed unconcerned about needing them. We went into the holdover where we spent a painstaking amount of time, talking to my client about his legal options. My interpreter communicated with him through the plexiglass window to the holdover. My client was wearing a mask, as were all of the other inmates.
The holdover was far from full. There were only a handful of inmates there and I could see other inmates in the adjacent holdover. They all looked scared and I couldn't help but think that they reminded me of trapped animals in a lab. In normal times, the holdover is a place of unmitigated testosterone, noise, and bravado. Now it just felt like a hospital waiting room where everyone was just waiting to hear hopelessly bad news. It was strange and it was depressing.
After being fully advised, my client signed his plea paperwork. I told the coordinator that we had a plea ready for the judge. Normally, I can expect a high level of good-natured banter with her when I see her in court. But, she seemed stressed and scared. I kept my normal routine of smart ass comments to myself. I didn't feel like making them, anyway.
The judge had me and the interpreter stand at the back of the courtroom when my client came in to take his plea. The prosecutor chimed in her parts via a zoom conference. Her face wasn't even on the screen. When the plea was over, my client was taken back into the back. He had more paperwork to do with the probation department but my job was done. The poor interpreter still had a long morning ahead of him.
I said goodbye to everyone in the courtroom. The judge gave me a solemn "Thanks for coming in."
And I left. I felt overwhelmingly depressed about it all. I think the past few weeks of living out in the country shielded me from the reality of what it is like in Houston and the CJC right now.
I pulled off my N95 mask once I got outside. Nobody tells you how much those damn things make your nostrils itch, They are also really lovely accentuators of how fat your face has gotten over the past few years. Man, I really hated that thing.
I didn't want to.
I mean, I really didn't want to. Unlike in past disasters, when I found a level of excitement and fun riding out a hurricane or being one of the first people to go back to Downtown Houston after a flood, my courage ran out when it came to the thought of an invisible virus that could kill me and any other family members that I spread it to. For the past several weeks, my family and I have been staying at our lake house out in the middle of nowhere. No one can accuse me of not taking the current crisis seriously.
Turns out, as a leukemia survivor who went through chemotherapy, I fall under that unpleasant category of "immunocompromised." My 6-year-old son, who had his own bout of Immune Thrombocytopenic Purpura (ITP) a couple of years ago falls into the same category. There are plenty of other Harris County CJC regulars that fall into the category as well. Probably more than you or I even are aware of.
So trust me when I emphasize that I really didn't want to go to court today. I've been dreading it all week.
But it couldn't be helped. I didn't have to go to court because of a judge being unreasonable about attendance, nor did I feel a financial obligation to show up. On the whole, I think that almost all of the courts have come into line about not requiring personal appearances. The court where I made my appearance was, without question, one of the leaders in waiving appearances for attorneys and on-bond defendants.
What compelled me to go in was that my client had the opportunity to go home from jail today with a reasonable plea bargain offer. But due to a language barrier (with a semi-rare dialect from an overseas nation) coupled with some possible mental health issues, I needed to be there in person with an interpreter if there was any hope of ensuring that my client was properly informed of his rights and had the ability to make an informed decision.
So, this morning, I got up, grabbed a set of latex gloves and an N95 mask and headed off to Downtown. I stopped at Ace Hardware on the way to see if they had a
Downtown had a healthy amount of traffic too, although nothing too bad. I got to the garage, masked and gloved up and headed down the elevator. Because I'm a forgetful dumbass, I had forgotten my Frequent Visitor Badge at the lake house. I was greeted at security by a lady who tried to take my temperature. It didn't work until the fifth try, which gave me a ton of confidence that it was working properly. I registered a 95 and was allowed to proceed into the building. Since I had forgotten my badge, I had to take off my shoes and belt for the metal detectors.
I swear I could feel coronavirus permeating from the floor and through my socks when I went through.
The CJC was a ghost town. There were signs on the elevators that forbid more than two riders at a time, but it wasn't an issue. I had the elevator all to myself. There was one other attorney in the court when I got there, and he was hanging out in the jury room. I went into the courtroom to see if my interpreter had showed up early, by any chance. He hadn't, so I hung out with the bailiffs and caught up on how everyone was doing. Most of the lights were off in the courtroom, which made a depressing situation feel even more depressing.
The judge showed up promptly at 9 a.m. Normally, he is one of the most cheerful and cordial people in the courtroom, but he seemed beatdown today. He was pleasant, but he wasn't himself. He seemed tired and sad. Quite frankly, I don't know how he could avoid being tired and sad. He's been working his ass off since the crisis hit. I've done many zoom conferences over the past several weeks and he's always in court, handling his docket. He's not zooming in. He's there in person.
I told him the details of the anticipated plea bargain and he said, sadly: "I'm sorry you have to be here. I've been trying to keep anyone from having to be here."
I told him that it couldn't be avoided. About that time, the interpreter showed up -- a nice, cheerful man who I had dealt with on other court settings. He didn't bring a mask or gloves, but seemed unconcerned about needing them. We went into the holdover where we spent a painstaking amount of time, talking to my client about his legal options. My interpreter communicated with him through the plexiglass window to the holdover. My client was wearing a mask, as were all of the other inmates.
The holdover was far from full. There were only a handful of inmates there and I could see other inmates in the adjacent holdover. They all looked scared and I couldn't help but think that they reminded me of trapped animals in a lab. In normal times, the holdover is a place of unmitigated testosterone, noise, and bravado. Now it just felt like a hospital waiting room where everyone was just waiting to hear hopelessly bad news. It was strange and it was depressing.
After being fully advised, my client signed his plea paperwork. I told the coordinator that we had a plea ready for the judge. Normally, I can expect a high level of good-natured banter with her when I see her in court. But, she seemed stressed and scared. I kept my normal routine of smart ass comments to myself. I didn't feel like making them, anyway.
The judge had me and the interpreter stand at the back of the courtroom when my client came in to take his plea. The prosecutor chimed in her parts via a zoom conference. Her face wasn't even on the screen. When the plea was over, my client was taken back into the back. He had more paperwork to do with the probation department but my job was done. The poor interpreter still had a long morning ahead of him.
I said goodbye to everyone in the courtroom. The judge gave me a solemn "Thanks for coming in."
And I left. I felt overwhelmingly depressed about it all. I think the past few weeks of living out in the country shielded me from the reality of what it is like in Houston and the CJC right now.
I pulled off my N95 mask once I got outside. Nobody tells you how much those damn things make your nostrils itch, They are also really lovely accentuators of how fat your face has gotten over the past few years. Man, I really hated that thing.
I took off the gloves when I got to my floor at the parking garage, and I liberally poured hand sanitizer all over my hands and forearms. My inner paranoia made me feel like I had contamination all over me. I went home, threw my clothes in the washer and immediately took a shower. It didn't ease the paranoia any. I'm pretty sure that my visit to the CJC will add to an already impressive level of hypochondria that I've had ever since going through chemo.
Ugh.
But, more than the feelings of germaphobia, hypochondria and Dear-God-I've-GOT-to-start-on-a-diet, I think the overwhelming takeaway from my visit to court today was how incredibly sad all of this is. I missed seeing all of my friends on both sides of the table. I hated seeing the judge and the coordinator depressed. I missed the noise and bravado coming out of the holdover. The fear in the eyes of the inmates scared me.
I don't think that I'll be back inside the CJC for awhile. Today's client had a rare situation that couldn't be handled by a phone call or teleconference. I feel relief at the thought of not going back for a bit, despite the people that I miss not seeing. To the judges and court staff who are physically going into the building every day to make sure the Justice System keeps moving, you have my respect and appreciation. I hope you stay safe and well.
I hope that ALL of you stay safe and well.
I look forward to the day when we can all be back together under happier and safer times.
Friday, March 27, 2020
Episode Five: The Empress Strikes Out
SCENE: The Star Destroyer Jefferson hovers over a very empty Downtown. [INTERIOR]. The Imperial Throne Room. An uncharacteristically cheerful EMPRESS OGG is standing at the head of her conference room table. Behind her, her lead stormtrooper BOBA CLAPPART is busily preparing a bacta tank for one person. VICE-ADMIRAL MITCHAM sits stoically at the head of the table as other members of the ADVISORY COUNCIL file into the room.
EMPRESS OGG: Greetings my dearest friends and co-workers! Come in! Come in! It is so lovely to see you today! It brings me great joy to see all of you!
YVONNE VENTRESS (whispering): Why is she so happy?
COUNT MUSICK: I don't know. I haven't seen her this happy since the Envirolorian's Arkema trial got postponed.
YVONNE VENTRESS: Yes, I heard the trial was not going well. Some guy named Brady kept showing up unexpectedly?
COUNT MUSICK: Yes. Something like that.
VICE-ADMIRAL MITCHAM: Let's call the meeting to order.
EMPRESS OGG: Yes! I have things to do. How is the bacta tank coming along, Boba?
BOBA CLAPPART: We are working on it, Empress, but I still don't see how we are going to fit your press conference podium in there with you. This thing only has a three-foot diameter.
EMPRESS OGG: Honestly, Boba. I don't know why I give you any jobs in the first place. First, you can't frame a group of teenagers for murder and now you can't outfit the bacta tank with the bare necessities that I need to survive.
BOBA CLAPPART: Well, I mean it does provide nutrients and oxygen while keeping you completely insulated from the coronavirus, it's just . . .
EMPRESS OGG: No podium. No deal. Fix it, nitwit.
BOBA CLAPPART: Yes, Empress.
EMPRESS OGG: Now, as I was saying, let's call the meeting to order . . .
THE DOOR TO THE THRONE ROOM FLIES OPEN AND IN STORMS CHIEF OF STAFF VIVIAN KING.
VICE-ADMIRAL MITCHAM: Nice of you to join us, Vivian.
CHIEF KING: Screw you, New Tom Berg. I was at lunch.
VICE-ADMIRAL MITCHAM: It's 9 a.m.
CHIEF KING: YOU DON'T KNOW WHEN MY LUNCH HOUR IS!!!!!
EMPRESS OGG: Calm down, Vivian. It is too lovely of a day to be ruined with in-fighting.
CHIEF KING: Who the hell gave you happy pills?
EMPRESS OGG: No happy pills, my friend. I don't need them. Why would I? Life has never been better for your favorite Ogginator. I won my election and all of the Jawas are happier than they have been since I first took office.
VICE-ADMIRAL MITCHAM: I think they are happy because you finally let them work from home during the coronavirus, Empress.
EMPRESS OGG: Nonsense. They are happy because I won. That's why they kept coming to work even though there was an earth-shattering plague risking all of their lives. They love me, dearly.
VICE-ADMIRAL MITCHAM: Um, they kept coming because Vivian told them it was business as usual and they had to.
CHIEF KING: WHO TOLD YOU THAT? WHO IS TALKING ABOUT ME? I AM BOARD CERTIFIED IN CRIMINAL LAW! NOBODY BETTER BE TALKING BAD ABOUT ME! I WILL SUE YOU, NEW TOM BERG!!!!
EMPRESS OGG: Calm down, Vivian. We are all friends here. He is not Murray Newman. Only a malcontent like him could ever say anything bad about you.
VICE-ADMIRAL MITCHAM: Well, Murray and anyone who ever watched an episode of Sisters In Law.
EMPRESS OGG: And that's like, what? Thirty people? Obviously I never even watched it myself, Vivian. That's why I hired you.
CHIEF KING: YOU CAN GO TO HELL, NEW TOM BERG! I'M GOING TO HAVE YOUR JOB. YOU JUST WATCH. MY TITLE IS GOING TO CHIEF OF STAFF AND FIRST ASSISTANT, or Vice-Admiral or whatever.
EMPRESS OGG: Calm down, Vivian. You did stop calling Murray and yelling at him during business hours like you promised me right?
CHIEF KING: Yes, Empress. Now, I only call him and ask him to verify his Google Listing.
VICE-ADMIRAL MITCHAM: Why would you harass him like that?
CHIEF KING: SHUT UP NEW TOM BERG! YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT MY SIDE HUSTLE IS! I'VE GOT VIVIAN KING TV! I'VE GOT CHIEF OF STAFF! I'VE GOT VIVIAN KING REALTY! I DO SOME FAMILY LAW! I'M BRINGING BACK SISTERS IN LAW, BUT WE ARE CALLING IT "VIVIAN IS THE MAMA BEAR IN LAW! I CAN VERIFY GOOGLE LISTINGS IF I WANT TO. I'M GOING TO BE NEW FIRST ASSISTANT HERE IN A MINUTE, THEN YOU'RE GOING TO BE OLD NEW TOM BERG AND I'M GOING TO THE NEW NEW TOM BERG!
VICE-ADMIRAL MITCHAM: Um, okay.
EMPRESS OGG: Anyway, as I was saying, the Jawas are ecstatic about my re-election and that's what makes them ignore all of the incredibly serious warnings from the WHO and the CDC about social distancing.
VICE-ADMIRAL MITCHAM: I should probably point out that you still have a general election in November, Empress.
EMPRESS OGG: SILENCE!
CHIEF KING: Empress, can I have his job now?
EMPRESS OGG: Sure.
THE DOOR FLIES OPEN AND A PANICKED JAR JAR ROGERS BURSTS INTO THE ROOM.
JAR JAR ROGERS: Oosa oosa Empress Ogg! Yoosa needsa to get into the bacta tank rightsa nowsa!
EMPRESS OGG: What is it, Jar Jar?
JAR JAR ROGERS: There's a beena exposure of mooey mooey bad coronavirus at the jail!
YVONNE VENTRESS: I'll send out an e-mail and tell the Sheriff to evacuate the jail and bring them all to 500 Jefferson immediately.
VICE-ADMIRAL MITCHAM: Wait. What?
CHIEF/VICE-ADMIRAL KING: That sounds like a great plan. Business as usual, as I always say.
EMPRESS OGG: Peace out, people! I'm heading to the bacta tank! Let me know when the crisis is over!
BOBA CLAPPART: What about your podium?
EMPRESS OGG: There's no time! Give it to Vivian! She's in charge now! Best of luck, everyone!
EMPRESS OGG PLUNGES INTO THE BACTA TANK, CLOSING THE LID BEHIND HER. ACTING EMPRESS KING IMMEDIATELY TAKES EMPRESS OGG'S SEAT AT THE HEAD OF THE TABLE
ACTING EMPRESS KING: Boba Clappart!
BOBA CLAPPART: Yes ma'am?
ACTING EMPRESS KING: Put New Tom Berg in the carbon freezing chamber. He can wait there until Empress Ogg comes out of the bacta tank.
BOBA CLAPPART grabs VICE-ADMIRAL MITCHAM by the arm and begins to lead him out.
ACTING EMPRESS KING: It is now time to execute Order 66. At last, we will reveal our full power to the Jawas.
COUNT MUSICK: You mean the Jedi?
ACTING EMPRESS KING: No, the Jawas. We can't really do anything to the Jedi, but I can be mean as hell to the Jawas. I'm the Mama Bear, dammit and I'm Board Certified. Now, somebody bring me some of that espresso from my high dollar R2-D2 coffee maker . . .
SEE PREVIOUSLY
Episode One: The Phantom Kimness
Episode Two: Attack of the Clowns
Episode Three: Revenge of the Fifth (Amendment)
Episode Four: A Glimmer of Hope
EMPRESS OGG: Greetings my dearest friends and co-workers! Come in! Come in! It is so lovely to see you today! It brings me great joy to see all of you!
YVONNE VENTRESS (whispering): Why is she so happy?
COUNT MUSICK: I don't know. I haven't seen her this happy since the Envirolorian's Arkema trial got postponed.
YVONNE VENTRESS: Yes, I heard the trial was not going well. Some guy named Brady kept showing up unexpectedly?
COUNT MUSICK: Yes. Something like that.
VICE-ADMIRAL MITCHAM: Let's call the meeting to order.
EMPRESS OGG: Yes! I have things to do. How is the bacta tank coming along, Boba?
BOBA CLAPPART: We are working on it, Empress, but I still don't see how we are going to fit your press conference podium in there with you. This thing only has a three-foot diameter.
EMPRESS OGG: Honestly, Boba. I don't know why I give you any jobs in the first place. First, you can't frame a group of teenagers for murder and now you can't outfit the bacta tank with the bare necessities that I need to survive.
BOBA CLAPPART: Well, I mean it does provide nutrients and oxygen while keeping you completely insulated from the coronavirus, it's just . . .
EMPRESS OGG: No podium. No deal. Fix it, nitwit.
BOBA CLAPPART: Yes, Empress.
EMPRESS OGG: Now, as I was saying, let's call the meeting to order . . .
THE DOOR TO THE THRONE ROOM FLIES OPEN AND IN STORMS CHIEF OF STAFF VIVIAN KING.
VICE-ADMIRAL MITCHAM: Nice of you to join us, Vivian.
CHIEF KING: Screw you, New Tom Berg. I was at lunch.
VICE-ADMIRAL MITCHAM: It's 9 a.m.
CHIEF KING: YOU DON'T KNOW WHEN MY LUNCH HOUR IS!!!!!
EMPRESS OGG: Calm down, Vivian. It is too lovely of a day to be ruined with in-fighting.
CHIEF KING: Who the hell gave you happy pills?
EMPRESS OGG: No happy pills, my friend. I don't need them. Why would I? Life has never been better for your favorite Ogginator. I won my election and all of the Jawas are happier than they have been since I first took office.
VICE-ADMIRAL MITCHAM: I think they are happy because you finally let them work from home during the coronavirus, Empress.
EMPRESS OGG: Nonsense. They are happy because I won. That's why they kept coming to work even though there was an earth-shattering plague risking all of their lives. They love me, dearly.
VICE-ADMIRAL MITCHAM: Um, they kept coming because Vivian told them it was business as usual and they had to.
CHIEF KING: WHO TOLD YOU THAT? WHO IS TALKING ABOUT ME? I AM BOARD CERTIFIED IN CRIMINAL LAW! NOBODY BETTER BE TALKING BAD ABOUT ME! I WILL SUE YOU, NEW TOM BERG!!!!
EMPRESS OGG: Calm down, Vivian. We are all friends here. He is not Murray Newman. Only a malcontent like him could ever say anything bad about you.
VICE-ADMIRAL MITCHAM: Well, Murray and anyone who ever watched an episode of Sisters In Law.
EMPRESS OGG: And that's like, what? Thirty people? Obviously I never even watched it myself, Vivian. That's why I hired you.
CHIEF KING: YOU CAN GO TO HELL, NEW TOM BERG! I'M GOING TO HAVE YOUR JOB. YOU JUST WATCH. MY TITLE IS GOING TO CHIEF OF STAFF AND FIRST ASSISTANT, or Vice-Admiral or whatever.
EMPRESS OGG: Calm down, Vivian. You did stop calling Murray and yelling at him during business hours like you promised me right?
CHIEF KING: Yes, Empress. Now, I only call him and ask him to verify his Google Listing.
VICE-ADMIRAL MITCHAM: Why would you harass him like that?
CHIEF KING: SHUT UP NEW TOM BERG! YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT MY SIDE HUSTLE IS! I'VE GOT VIVIAN KING TV! I'VE GOT CHIEF OF STAFF! I'VE GOT VIVIAN KING REALTY! I DO SOME FAMILY LAW! I'M BRINGING BACK SISTERS IN LAW, BUT WE ARE CALLING IT "VIVIAN IS THE MAMA BEAR IN LAW! I CAN VERIFY GOOGLE LISTINGS IF I WANT TO. I'M GOING TO BE NEW FIRST ASSISTANT HERE IN A MINUTE, THEN YOU'RE GOING TO BE OLD NEW TOM BERG AND I'M GOING TO THE NEW NEW TOM BERG!
VICE-ADMIRAL MITCHAM: Um, okay.
EMPRESS OGG: Anyway, as I was saying, the Jawas are ecstatic about my re-election and that's what makes them ignore all of the incredibly serious warnings from the WHO and the CDC about social distancing.
VICE-ADMIRAL MITCHAM: I should probably point out that you still have a general election in November, Empress.
EMPRESS OGG: SILENCE!
CHIEF KING: Empress, can I have his job now?
EMPRESS OGG: Sure.
THE DOOR FLIES OPEN AND A PANICKED JAR JAR ROGERS BURSTS INTO THE ROOM.
JAR JAR ROGERS: Oosa oosa Empress Ogg! Yoosa needsa to get into the bacta tank rightsa nowsa!
EMPRESS OGG: What is it, Jar Jar?
JAR JAR ROGERS: There's a beena exposure of mooey mooey bad coronavirus at the jail!
YVONNE VENTRESS: I'll send out an e-mail and tell the Sheriff to evacuate the jail and bring them all to 500 Jefferson immediately.
VICE-ADMIRAL MITCHAM: Wait. What?
CHIEF/VICE-ADMIRAL KING: That sounds like a great plan. Business as usual, as I always say.
EMPRESS OGG: Peace out, people! I'm heading to the bacta tank! Let me know when the crisis is over!
BOBA CLAPPART: What about your podium?
EMPRESS OGG: There's no time! Give it to Vivian! She's in charge now! Best of luck, everyone!
EMPRESS OGG PLUNGES INTO THE BACTA TANK, CLOSING THE LID BEHIND HER. ACTING EMPRESS KING IMMEDIATELY TAKES EMPRESS OGG'S SEAT AT THE HEAD OF THE TABLE
ACTING EMPRESS KING: Boba Clappart!
BOBA CLAPPART: Yes ma'am?
ACTING EMPRESS KING: Put New Tom Berg in the carbon freezing chamber. He can wait there until Empress Ogg comes out of the bacta tank.
BOBA CLAPPART grabs VICE-ADMIRAL MITCHAM by the arm and begins to lead him out.
ACTING EMPRESS KING: It is now time to execute Order 66. At last, we will reveal our full power to the Jawas.
COUNT MUSICK: You mean the Jedi?
ACTING EMPRESS KING: No, the Jawas. We can't really do anything to the Jedi, but I can be mean as hell to the Jawas. I'm the Mama Bear, dammit and I'm Board Certified. Now, somebody bring me some of that espresso from my high dollar R2-D2 coffee maker . . .
SEE PREVIOUSLY
Episode One: The Phantom Kimness
Episode Two: Attack of the Clowns
Episode Three: Revenge of the Fifth (Amendment)
Episode Four: A Glimmer of Hope
Thursday, March 19, 2020
The Changing Shape of Things -- Part Two: Exposure at the CJC
I've heard from multiple people this morning of a potential COVID-19 exposure to the Harris County Criminal Justice Center. An e-mail went out from Ed Wells, the Court Manager, at 7:25 a.m., notifying people that a prosecutor in County Court at Law #1 had been exposed to a family member that had tested positive for the virus and presumably had then come to work.
Court #1 is on the 8th floor of the CJC, so the response was to recommend shutting down all courts on the 8th Floor.
Court #1 is on the 8th floor of the CJC, so the response was to recommend shutting down all courts on the 8th Floor.
Now, you can call me overly critical, but I'm not real sure what closing down the 8th floor does. I'm going to guess the prosecutor didn't walk up the stairs to the 8th floor. I'm sure he or she took the elevator with a group of other people. I'm sure he or she came in the front door and walked through the lobby to get there too. Closing down the 8th floor at this point does about as much good as putting a Band-Aid on a gunshot wound.
Stunningly, the e-mail points out that the recipient of the e-mail the District Attorney's Office because they may need the space at Jefferson (the current District Attorney's Office) sanitized.
"May"?!?!?!?!
You mean, you may want to check to see about sanitizing the area where the possibly infected prosecutor worked alongside a few hundred of his or her fellow employees? Those employees that may have spent more time around that prosecutor after court because good old Kim Ogg and Vivian "Business As Usual" King wouldn't let non-essential prosecutors work from home.
It has been reported that they now have a guy in a HAZMAT suit of some sort checking people's temperature as they enter the CJC this morning.
Did it occur to them that what they should be doing is letting the people trying to come into the building know about the potential exposure? The idea of taking folks' temperature when they come in is to prevent COVID-19 from coming into the building. Ed Wells' e-mail indicates that it is possibly already there.
They are warning the wrong damn people.
I want it to sink in that the prosecutor who may have potentially exposed the populous of the CJC to COVID-19 is a misdemeanor prosecutor. A misdemeanor prosecutor handling the lowest level of crimes. The vast majority of the misdemeanor courts aren't even holding dockets. Arguably, he or she should have been one of the first people told that they could work from home. If that had happened, maybe the CJC wouldn't be going through this.
Yet Kim Ogg and Vivian "Business as Usual" King still steadfastly refused to make any arrangements for the Office that allowed its employees to distance themselves from each other, protecting their own health and the health of their families.
On a related note, has anyone heard anything from Kim Ogg directly lately? All of the information coming from the Office seems to be coming from King, JoAnne Musick, and Jim Leitner. Has Press Conference Kim suddenly become camera shy?
All of this is absolutely infuriating. While the rest of the world, the rest of the country, the rest of the State and County, took drastic measures to slow the spread of COVID-19, the Harris County District Attorney's Office's only response was to put hand sanitizer on backorder and literally, tell the employees that it was "business as usual."
I mean, the Ogg Administration established very early on that it didn't care much about or for its employees, but this has jumped over into a lack of concern about the general public.
The fact that this is happening is inexcusable.
Tuesday, March 17, 2020
The Changing Shape of Things - Part One
Many things have changed in the six days since my last post about the COVID-19 Coronavirus and the Harris County Criminal Justice Center. I'm guessing that this update about the state of things will probably be the first of many as things continue to adapt to what is going on in the world.
1. The vast majority of Judges are waiving court appearances for bond clients in most Instances. I'm not 100% sure that all judges are following this rule, but every judge that I'm currently dealing with is doing everything that he or she can to keep people out of the courtroom. I have not heard of any judges that are not following this plan, but I can't swear that all of them are. Appearances are being waived and electronic resets are being encouraged. The only exception that I've seen on this is first appearances for clients that have just bonded out of jail.
2. Judges are working to get non-violent offenders out of custody if possible. Defense attorneys should be doing the same. I know of at least one District Court Judge that went through the cases pending in his court and reviewing which ones he could grant personal recognizance bonds without risking public safety. He did this sua sponte, but defense attorneys should be doing the same. I've been going through all of my clients's cases that I can make an argument for a bond reduction or a PR bond for and filing Motions to Reduce Bond. As a side note, I will again point out that accepting collect phone calls from your clients is a fantastic way to communicate on these types of issues. Check out www.securustech.net if you want to set it up. It isn't expensive and it is totally worth it.
3. Speaking of e-filing . . . A week or so ago, Harris County District Clerk Marilyn Burgess rolled out a fresh new design for her office's website. It must have been designed by a colorblind individual. Things that were once easy to find are now against backdrops that make the tabs more difficult to see than the hidden images in those 3-D posters that used to be popular 20 years ago. Today, as attorneys are trying to access the District Clerk's website so they can work remotely, the site is alternating between working at a snail's pace or not at all. Burgess is really going to need to get that together quickly to keep things working.
4. The CJC is more or less a Ghost Town. I drove in yesterday to approach judges about bond issues on two cases yesterday and it was kind of spooky. From the sign at the garage that proclaimed jury service was canceled to the mostly empty elevator banks, it felts like entering the opening scenes of a zombie movie. There were only a handful of bond defendants in the courthouse and they were quickly given resets and sent home. Judge and court staff were asking people to keep their distance from each other and the bench. I made the mistake of coughing once (it was allergies, don't freak out) and was immediately maced with Lysol by a court coordinator who shall remain nameless. There was definitely a strong feeling that we shouldn't be up there.
5. Teleconferencing is the new Bench Conference. As I mentioned above, I filed a couple of Motions to Reduce Bond on some of my clients, and I'm going through all of my pending cases to see if there are more I can do. I e-filed them (through the State's service, not the District Clerk), served the prosecutor with e-service, and e-mailed the coordinator to notify her. About an hour later, the Judge called me and we had a teleconference. The prosecutor was in court and I was on speakerphone. It went pretty smoothly for a first attempt.
6. Speaking of the prosecutor being in the courtroom . . . Since I was supposed to be out of town this week and then on Spring Break, I was calling in from out of town when I presented my Motion to the Court telephonically. The prosecutor, however, was physically present in the courtroom. Again, I will point out to Harris County District Attorney Kim Ogg, that this wasn't necessary. The prosecutor could have phoned or conferenced in by Internet just as easily as I did. Thus far, Kim Ogg's only concession for her employees is relaxing the dress code. That's pathetic.
1. The vast majority of Judges are waiving court appearances for bond clients in most Instances. I'm not 100% sure that all judges are following this rule, but every judge that I'm currently dealing with is doing everything that he or she can to keep people out of the courtroom. I have not heard of any judges that are not following this plan, but I can't swear that all of them are. Appearances are being waived and electronic resets are being encouraged. The only exception that I've seen on this is first appearances for clients that have just bonded out of jail.
2. Judges are working to get non-violent offenders out of custody if possible. Defense attorneys should be doing the same. I know of at least one District Court Judge that went through the cases pending in his court and reviewing which ones he could grant personal recognizance bonds without risking public safety. He did this sua sponte, but defense attorneys should be doing the same. I've been going through all of my clients's cases that I can make an argument for a bond reduction or a PR bond for and filing Motions to Reduce Bond. As a side note, I will again point out that accepting collect phone calls from your clients is a fantastic way to communicate on these types of issues. Check out www.securustech.net if you want to set it up. It isn't expensive and it is totally worth it.
3. Speaking of e-filing . . . A week or so ago, Harris County District Clerk Marilyn Burgess rolled out a fresh new design for her office's website. It must have been designed by a colorblind individual. Things that were once easy to find are now against backdrops that make the tabs more difficult to see than the hidden images in those 3-D posters that used to be popular 20 years ago. Today, as attorneys are trying to access the District Clerk's website so they can work remotely, the site is alternating between working at a snail's pace or not at all. Burgess is really going to need to get that together quickly to keep things working.
4. The CJC is more or less a Ghost Town. I drove in yesterday to approach judges about bond issues on two cases yesterday and it was kind of spooky. From the sign at the garage that proclaimed jury service was canceled to the mostly empty elevator banks, it felts like entering the opening scenes of a zombie movie. There were only a handful of bond defendants in the courthouse and they were quickly given resets and sent home. Judge and court staff were asking people to keep their distance from each other and the bench. I made the mistake of coughing once (it was allergies, don't freak out) and was immediately maced with Lysol by a court coordinator who shall remain nameless. There was definitely a strong feeling that we shouldn't be up there.
5. Teleconferencing is the new Bench Conference. As I mentioned above, I filed a couple of Motions to Reduce Bond on some of my clients, and I'm going through all of my pending cases to see if there are more I can do. I e-filed them (through the State's service, not the District Clerk), served the prosecutor with e-service, and e-mailed the coordinator to notify her. About an hour later, the Judge called me and we had a teleconference. The prosecutor was in court and I was on speakerphone. It went pretty smoothly for a first attempt.
6. Speaking of the prosecutor being in the courtroom . . . Since I was supposed to be out of town this week and then on Spring Break, I was calling in from out of town when I presented my Motion to the Court telephonically. The prosecutor, however, was physically present in the courtroom. Again, I will point out to Harris County District Attorney Kim Ogg, that this wasn't necessary. The prosecutor could have phoned or conferenced in by Internet just as easily as I did. Thus far, Kim Ogg's only concession for her employees is relaxing the dress code. That's pathetic.
7. Speaking of poor crisis management by the District Attorney's Office, I had the most entertaining conversation with 1st Assistant/Chief of Staff/Minister of Propaganda Vivian King last week! So, here's a funny story. Last week, in response to Jim Leitner citing Vivian King's approval of an e-mail he was sending to the Office, I made the following Tweet:
Now, I said this with a keen awareness of numerous moments of mismanagement and out of line priorities exhibited by La Viv over the course of her tenure with the Ogg Administration. From holding onto some Federal defense cases after taking her oath as a prosecutor to handling a little family law matter for a criminal court judge (that in my opinion created a potential conflict of interest for the Office) to expensive espresso machines on the public dime to failing to recuse the Office on a case that she had a vested personal interest in, the past few years have changed my opinion of Vivian for the worse. I have a great many things that I could add to that list, but I won't at the moment.
So, after sending this Tweet, I was not all that surprised to see Vivian on my Caller ID on Friday, calling to express her fury.
She started by cryptically letting me know that "someone" had told her that I had said she was the last person who should be handling a crisis. Dammit, the Twitterverse is apparently not the secret-keeping vault that I thought it was. I told her that she really should be focusing on managing the Office's response to the coronavirus rather than calling her critics on county time, to which she yelled "YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT TIME I TAKE MY LUNCH HOUR!"
She threatened to sue me, to which I replied that my opinion of her was not libel.
She threatened to file a grievance against me for criticizing her, to which I replied that I was criticizing her as an administrator, not as a lawyer.
She told me that I was just seeking publicity, to which I didn't think that her ill-fated stint on Sisters-In-Law would really get me that much attention.
She demanded to know who had told me bad things about her, to which I told her I wouldn't be feeding information to the "most paranoid, mean, and not-that-bright administration in the Office's history."
She finally just defaulted into yelling that she was Board Certified in Criminal Law and called me a racist for saying anything negative about her on Twitter. She also accused me of "damaging the community," whatever that means! It was a very volatile 11 minutes.
And in the end, it didn't change my opinion any. Now, more than ever, I remain of the opinion that Vivian King is the last person who should be making these decisions.
8. In all seriousness, outside of the District Attorney's Office upper administration, the Harris County Criminal Justice community is pulling together. From defense attorneys doing whatever they can to keep their clients informed to the judges trying to make sure that Due Process is still happening to the rank-and-file prosecutors dutifully responding to e-mails and showing up for court, people are still working around the clock to keep the Justice System running.
As a side note, if you are otherwise unaware, the Harris County Criminal Lawyers Association (in a project being handled by the amazing Christina Appelt) is keeping a running list of all the relevant information regarding courthouse closings and other constantly changing rules at this website that is available to the general public. That's a huge undertaking and Christina is owed a big "thank you!" for handling it.
I hope everyone is safe out there and that you and your families are corona-free. I'll talk to you soon.
Wednesday, March 11, 2020
Court In a Time of Corona
With the City of Houston's decision to shut down the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo today, I think it hit home for most of us that the threat of coronavirus is truly going to be a lifestyle changer for days, weeks, and months to come. It was one thing to see the stories on the news about festivals and events getting canceled. Even hearing about South by Southwest getting canceled in Austin didn't really register for many of us.
But, canceling the freaking rodeo? Shit just got real.
I've been worrying about coronavirus for weeks now; however, I also vividly remember being worried about SARS, Ebola, and swine flu. Since none of those things ever hit Houston, I was kind of holding out hope that the same would happen with corona. However, no such luck.
It looks like the Houston Independent School District is trying to just get through the next two days before reassessing its response during next week's Spring Break.
In the meantime, with two exceptions, the Harris County Criminal Justice Center appears to be open for business as always. The first of those exceptions came from 232nd District Court Judge Josh Hill, who issued the following statement:
But, canceling the freaking rodeo? Shit just got real.
I've been worrying about coronavirus for weeks now; however, I also vividly remember being worried about SARS, Ebola, and swine flu. Since none of those things ever hit Houston, I was kind of holding out hope that the same would happen with corona. However, no such luck.
It looks like the Houston Independent School District is trying to just get through the next two days before reassessing its response during next week's Spring Break.
In the meantime, with two exceptions, the Harris County Criminal Justice Center appears to be open for business as always. The first of those exceptions came from 232nd District Court Judge Josh Hill, who issued the following statement:
My policy for the 232nd always stands, regardless of what the other courts do. If anyone believes their health or safety would be compromised by trying to get to court, stay home and make some attempt to contact the court to reschedule as soon as practical. Any lawyer on any case can always request an off docket reset or to waive a client's appearance, regardless of health or safety scares.Judge Hill is a good egg. Similarly, County Court at Law # 8 Judge Franklin Bynum took time out of his busy schedule of fighting with HPD Chief Art Acevedo on Twitter to issue this statement:
Other than these two judges, there doesn't appear to be much reaction from the rest of the Harris County Criminal Justice World yet, which is pretty damn ridiculous considering that it has become clear that we are in a time where drastic measures need to be taken.
So, here are a couple of my random amateur epidemiologist opinions on what should be done:
1. Follow Judge Bynum's lead and waive all bond appearances. Period.
Much like the Rodeo, the Harris County Criminal Justice System pulls in thousands of people from all over the area and brings them into cramped conditions of wall-to-wall people, Given how easily communicable coronavirus is, this is just begging for trouble. Until the worst of this epidemic passes, there is absolutely no reason to put a higher value on managing docket numbers than human safety.
2. Reschedule all jury trials for two months. It is my understanding that Fort Bend County has canceled jury panel through the end of March. If they can do it, so can Harris County. Pretend like we got hit by Hurricane Corona. We will get back online eventually. It isn't ideal, but we will get through it.
3. Give every inmate in the Harris County Jail on a non-violent offense a PR bond. Yeah, nobody on the police/prosecution side is going to like this idea, I get it. But once the coronavirus hits the jail, it will spread like wildfire. Subjecting anyone to that as a sitting duck trapped in a cage is horrible to contemplate, but it becomes even more horrible if someone is sitting there on a drug charge or a theft charge.
4. Let non-essential employees work from home, especially those with compromised health issues. In our Internet age, we are more capable than ever to work from home with our online resources. Read offense reports. Watch statements. Watch body cams. Do some legal research. Catch up on e-mails. I can guarantee you that is what I plan on doing in the weeks to come. It is ridiculous not to take advantage of that for government employees who can do the exact same thing. I'm still laughing at Vivian King's memo today that she had ordered some hand sanitizer for the Office but that it is on backorder for eight weeks. Good old Vivian is awesome in crisis.
SEND YOUR PEOPLE HOME!!!
5. Pay appointed attorneys for their work when it is done instead of when the case is resolved. I posted on this topic last year in this post when I encouraged the policy to help prevent attorneys from taking on too many cases. If an attorney can work from his or her office or home on a case and get paid on a weekly basis, it is a win-win situation for all involved. There will be more work done on cases. Attorneys will keep a more manageable caseload. Things can be effectively resolved without pointless appearances in court. They stay safe at home. Work gets done on cases. They don't go bankrupt. It will be great.
6. Defense Attorneys should start taking collect phone calls from their clients. Pat McCann gave me this piece of advice when I became a defense attorney. I take collect calls from my clients. I caution them about talking about anything that would be damning on their case because I don't trust that nobody is listening, but I can answer legal questions until the cows come home. I don't do jail visits very often, but I'll take multiple phone calls a day from clients, and that makes them happy. I'm near my computer when they call, so I can look up answers to their questions. Make notes on what they are telling me and most importantly -- not pick up a disease at the jail.
Those are just a few of my thoughts. I'd like to hear your thoughts, too, so comment away.
At this point, I'm in disbelief that we've canceled the Rodeo but we've made no apparent plan for the Criminal Justice World in Harris County. They also just canceled the NBA season.
I don't understand why the Courts are acting as if it is still business as normal.
Wednesday, March 4, 2020
2020 Primary Takeaways
The 2020 Democratic Primaries have now come and gone and as always, there is much to talk about. There were some predictable moments and some surprises. Some races told us who will be holding office in January, while others will still need to be decided in November. Outside of the obvious results from last night, there were some other, more subtle takeaways to notice.
1. The Party Turnout Differential-- I'm probably looking in the wrong place, but I can't find a source for the exact number of voters in the respective primaries. However, I can see that 321,903 people voted in the Democratic Primary presidential race compared to 192,985 voting in the Republican Primary presidential race. That approximately 129,000 vote difference could be partially explained by the fact that the Dem presidential race is contested while the Republican race is not. However, it can't feel too reassuring to those Republican candidates on the ballot.
2. The Houston Police Officers Union is a pretty influential group. Political newcomer Mary Nan Huffman avoided a runoff in a three-person race and she did so by a large margin. Unlike the other two candidates, Lori Deangelo and Lloyd Oliver, Huffman isn't a Harris County CJC regular, either. Her past experience was in the Montgomery County District Attorney's Office, followed by her stint as the HPOU's attorney. Huffman was definitely the HPOU's candidate and she did quite well with her 63.5% of the vote. It will be interesting to see how that translates in the general election. I'm going to go out on a limb and predict that HPOU has significantly more influence on the Republican side than it does on the Dem side.
3. Sexism is alive and well in the Republican Party... at least as it applies to the District Attorney's race. Legal Disaster Lloyd Oliver won 35,728 votes which scored him a second-place finish over a seasoned former prosecutor and defense attorney. That's about 35,728 more votes than Lloyd deserved. He literally has no redeeming qualities that would earn him a single vote. He's homophobic, sexist, kinda racist, and not all that bright. The only reason I can possibly think of for that many people voting for Lloyd in the primary is that he was the only male on the ballot.
4. The Progressive Movement isn't quite as powerful as its advocates believe. Three of the Democratic candidates for District Attorney (Kim Ogg, Audia Jones and Carvana Cloud) heavily campaigned on who was the most progressive candidate. Jones earned the endorsement of several prominent Progressive groups, even the endorsement of Bernie Sanders, himself. However, it didn't end up doing her that much good. She got less than half (65,734) of the votes that Kim Ogg received (147,855). Anybody that believes that the Progressive Movement is what gave Kim Ogg the Office in 2016 is silly -- it was simple Trump backlash. It probably will be again in November.
5. Old School Cronyism is Key to Primary Victory. Speaking of our incumbent District Attorney, despite her first term in Office being beset with multiple controversies, she still managed to win and avoid a runoff, which is not an easy feat in a four-person race. Ogg is an old school Democrat, like her father before her. She had strong party ties that went back to before Audia Jones was even born. She used positions in her Office to hire "community outreach" employees who, coincidentally, were old school Dems, too. She had no problem receiving endorsement after endorsement from other Old School Dems, most of whom have little to no involvement in the Criminal Justice World. It worked out well for her.
1. The Party Turnout Differential-- I'm probably looking in the wrong place, but I can't find a source for the exact number of voters in the respective primaries. However, I can see that 321,903 people voted in the Democratic Primary presidential race compared to 192,985 voting in the Republican Primary presidential race. That approximately 129,000 vote difference could be partially explained by the fact that the Dem presidential race is contested while the Republican race is not. However, it can't feel too reassuring to those Republican candidates on the ballot.
2. The Houston Police Officers Union is a pretty influential group. Political newcomer Mary Nan Huffman avoided a runoff in a three-person race and she did so by a large margin. Unlike the other two candidates, Lori Deangelo and Lloyd Oliver, Huffman isn't a Harris County CJC regular, either. Her past experience was in the Montgomery County District Attorney's Office, followed by her stint as the HPOU's attorney. Huffman was definitely the HPOU's candidate and she did quite well with her 63.5% of the vote. It will be interesting to see how that translates in the general election. I'm going to go out on a limb and predict that HPOU has significantly more influence on the Republican side than it does on the Dem side.
3. Sexism is alive and well in the Republican Party... at least as it applies to the District Attorney's race. Legal Disaster Lloyd Oliver won 35,728 votes which scored him a second-place finish over a seasoned former prosecutor and defense attorney. That's about 35,728 more votes than Lloyd deserved. He literally has no redeeming qualities that would earn him a single vote. He's homophobic, sexist, kinda racist, and not all that bright. The only reason I can possibly think of for that many people voting for Lloyd in the primary is that he was the only male on the ballot.
4. The Progressive Movement isn't quite as powerful as its advocates believe. Three of the Democratic candidates for District Attorney (Kim Ogg, Audia Jones and Carvana Cloud) heavily campaigned on who was the most progressive candidate. Jones earned the endorsement of several prominent Progressive groups, even the endorsement of Bernie Sanders, himself. However, it didn't end up doing her that much good. She got less than half (65,734) of the votes that Kim Ogg received (147,855). Anybody that believes that the Progressive Movement is what gave Kim Ogg the Office in 2016 is silly -- it was simple Trump backlash. It probably will be again in November.
5. Old School Cronyism is Key to Primary Victory. Speaking of our incumbent District Attorney, despite her first term in Office being beset with multiple controversies, she still managed to win and avoid a runoff, which is not an easy feat in a four-person race. Ogg is an old school Democrat, like her father before her. She had strong party ties that went back to before Audia Jones was even born. She used positions in her Office to hire "community outreach" employees who, coincidentally, were old school Dems, too. She had no problem receiving endorsement after endorsement from other Old School Dems, most of whom have little to no involvement in the Criminal Justice World. It worked out well for her.
Photoshop courtesy of Luke Newman
6. A Wild Batch of Judicial Races did not go well for the Men. Incumbents won. Incumbents lost. A four-person race had a winner who dodged a runoff while a three-person race didn't. There didn't seem to be a very strong pattern that weaved through all the races, except for one: all the male candidates lost. Whether it was challenger Bryan Acklin's loss to incumbent Judge Nikita Harmon or incumbents Randy Roll and George Powell losing to Ana Martinez and Natalia "Nata" Cornelio. Colleen Gaido beat the three guys running against her and did it so convincingly that she avoided a runoff. The only race going to a runoff is between Te'iva Bell and Candace White -- the one male in the race, Dennis Powell, came in third place. Crazy!
So, once again the morning after an election is a mixed bag of good and bad, but the most tragic, yet uplifting story of yesterday was . . .
7. The Voters Who Would Not Be Denied. Through a series of unfortunate events there were insane delays for voters at the end of the day yesterday. Those in line at 7 p.m. got to vote, and some of those late arrivals ended up waiting for hours before they finally had the opportunity to cast their ballot. The Hero of the Day Award goes to Hervis Rogers who waited for seven hours to cast his vote. He shouldn't have had to, but he did.
That's a man who knows the Power of the Ballot and he puts anyone who found it "too inconvenient" to get to the polls to shame.
Everyone should value their vote as much.
Wednesday, February 26, 2020
Outsourcing the Experience
When I was a First-Year law clerk with Hinton, Bailey, Sussman & Davidson way back in 1997, I had the opportunity to be introduced to the Judge of the 262nd District Court, Doug Shaver. He asked me what I planned to do when I finished law school and I told him that I wanted to go back home to Brazos County and work at the District Attorney's Office. He asked me why didn't I want to stay in Harris County and work for the D.A.'s Office here.
In that special brand of arrogance that is so typical of a first-year law student, I told him that at the Brazos County D.A.'s Office, they prosecuted only felonies, and I would be able to jump right in and start trying murders as soon as I got out of law school. I elaborated by telling him that if I went to Harris County, I'd get stuck trying DWIs and other misdemeanors for too long before I got a chance to start trying the good stuff.
Judge Shaver shook his head and smiled.
"Son, you don't need to be looking down your nose at those DWIs and misdemeanors. You need to know what you are doing before you start trying serious cases," he said. "Misdemeanor is where you learn."
Although I didn't want to agree with him, I knew better than to argue. It would be years later before I came to realize how right he was.
I think most of us who have been lawyers fora couple of decades several years now can fully recognize the hubris we have in law school. To be fair to our younger selves, having that level of cockiness is somewhat necessary if you want to be a trial lawyer.
Obviously, I ended up in the Harris County District Attorney's Office, and on the day I started, I went to the Justice of the Peace Divison. The arrogant law student from 1997 wasn't even assigned to handle something as serious as a DWI.
I was trying freaking traffic ticket cases.
In retrospect, the four months I spent in the JP Division were some of my fondest at the Office. I made some great friends. The camaraderie was tremendous -- and it remains the single thing I miss the most about the Office.
But most importantly, I learned how to stand in front of a jury and try a case.
And if I lost that case, the Scales of Justice weren't too badly damaged.
We tried them all back then and we won sometimes. We lost a lot. We tried No Seat Belt cases, fishing without a license, speeding, running stop signs, expired registrations and inspections and (on super serious days) Passing a School Bus -- the capital murder of the Justice of the Peace Division. We would try four or five jury trials a day sometimes. Sometimes, more than that. We didn't have to prepare. Our offense reports were literally traffic tickets.
After four months, we walked out of the JP Division feeling completely at ease with picking a jury, presenting evidence, and doing closing arguments. Granted, Justice of the Peace Courts are not courts of record, so none of us really walked out of there as procedural rocket scientists, but we learned the fundamentals of Criminal Law and Procedure in a way that just can't be taught in law school. Not even being on a law school's mock trial comes close to the real thing.
Back then, some of the big firms in Houston recognized the value of rookie lawyers getting some experience in the JP courts. They offered to send some of their new baby lawyers over to get some experience by trying cases on behalf of the State of Texas. Those offers were politely declined by District Attorney Johnny Holmes and later, Chuck Rosenthal. They knew the value of Baby Prosecutors getting that experience and (say what you will about past HCDA regimes) they knew the building blocks of cultivating a rookie and turning him or her into a damn good trial lawyer.
In short, the Justice of the Peace Court experience was priceless for those of us dumbasses, fresh out of law school. Just like how most of us start our first driving lesson in a mall parking lot or on a dirt road out in the country, we needed to get comfortable with the machines we were operating before we took them out on the freeway.
I bring all of this up now, because of this:
In that special brand of arrogance that is so typical of a first-year law student, I told him that at the Brazos County D.A.'s Office, they prosecuted only felonies, and I would be able to jump right in and start trying murders as soon as I got out of law school. I elaborated by telling him that if I went to Harris County, I'd get stuck trying DWIs and other misdemeanors for too long before I got a chance to start trying the good stuff.
Judge Shaver shook his head and smiled.
"Son, you don't need to be looking down your nose at those DWIs and misdemeanors. You need to know what you are doing before you start trying serious cases," he said. "Misdemeanor is where you learn."
Although I didn't want to agree with him, I knew better than to argue. It would be years later before I came to realize how right he was.
I think most of us who have been lawyers for
Obviously, I ended up in the Harris County District Attorney's Office, and on the day I started, I went to the Justice of the Peace Divison. The arrogant law student from 1997 wasn't even assigned to handle something as serious as a DWI.
I was trying freaking traffic ticket cases.
In retrospect, the four months I spent in the JP Division were some of my fondest at the Office. I made some great friends. The camaraderie was tremendous -- and it remains the single thing I miss the most about the Office.
But most importantly, I learned how to stand in front of a jury and try a case.
And if I lost that case, the Scales of Justice weren't too badly damaged.
We tried them all back then and we won sometimes. We lost a lot. We tried No Seat Belt cases, fishing without a license, speeding, running stop signs, expired registrations and inspections and (on super serious days) Passing a School Bus -- the capital murder of the Justice of the Peace Division. We would try four or five jury trials a day sometimes. Sometimes, more than that. We didn't have to prepare. Our offense reports were literally traffic tickets.
After four months, we walked out of the JP Division feeling completely at ease with picking a jury, presenting evidence, and doing closing arguments. Granted, Justice of the Peace Courts are not courts of record, so none of us really walked out of there as procedural rocket scientists, but we learned the fundamentals of Criminal Law and Procedure in a way that just can't be taught in law school. Not even being on a law school's mock trial comes close to the real thing.
Back then, some of the big firms in Houston recognized the value of rookie lawyers getting some experience in the JP courts. They offered to send some of their new baby lawyers over to get some experience by trying cases on behalf of the State of Texas. Those offers were politely declined by District Attorney Johnny Holmes and later, Chuck Rosenthal. They knew the value of Baby Prosecutors getting that experience and (say what you will about past HCDA regimes) they knew the building blocks of cultivating a rookie and turning him or her into a damn good trial lawyer.
In short, the Justice of the Peace Court experience was priceless for those of us dumbasses, fresh out of law school. Just like how most of us start our first driving lesson in a mall parking lot or on a dirt road out in the country, we needed to get comfortable with the machines we were operating before we took them out on the freeway.
I bring all of this up now, because of this:
On Monday, District Attorney Kim Ogg proudly announced that she was going to reverse the previous longstanding policy of administrations past, and take those prestigious law firms up on their offers to play prosecutor in the JP Court. If you notice by the number of comments, it generated a lot of commentary in the Twitterverse. A lot of that commentary was pretty damn negative. [SIDENOTE: I totally learned this new trendy term yesterday from some people a lot younger than me called "Ratioed," which apparently is the verb used to describe what happens when you get more comments on your Twitter post than you get likes or retweets. As in, this post by Kim Ogg totally got ratioed." Who knew?]
The firms Baker Botts, Bracewell, Hunton, Andrews & Kurth, and Vinson & Elkins are the four big beneficiaries of the new part-time prosecutor gigs. Coincidentally, those firms all donated to Kim Ogg's campaign. There's nothing unusual about big firms making donations to political candidates, but one might argue that it is a little bit unseemly when the beneficiary of those donations is handing out free experience to those firms. But that's just my opinion.
Ironically, as Kim Ogg was outsourcing the experience that is gained in the Justice of the Peace Division, one of her high-level prosecutors, Alex Forrest, was getting raked over the coals for failing to comply with his duty to turn over exculpatory Brady evidence in the high-profile case against Arkema, Inc. I like Alex as a person, but he jumped to being the Bureau Chief of Environmental as one of Kim Ogg's handpicked hires when she took office in 2017. He skipped all of those priceless opportunities to gain experience and knowledge by going directly to the top of the ladder.
Coincidentally, Alex Forrest was a contributor to Ogg's campaign, as well.
I would like to wrap this up by saying a sincere thank you to Judge Doug Shaver for imparting that valuable lesson to me back in 1997. I may not have agreed with the advice at the time of delivery, but I ended up following it. You were 100% correct.
You can't put a price tag on that type of experience.
Unless you are Kim Ogg, that is.
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