My three minutes in court

Having done printmaking in art class Wednesday morning I was dreading the swearing in oath part. The palms of my hands were bright magenta and orange. Do you solemnly swear that you can't get your hands any cleaner than that?!?


The reason I was coming before the county probate court judge was to be deemed sane enough to be the independent administrator of Dad's estate. Friends and family had cautioned me against mentioning my side career as a vermicomposting edu-tainer aka Worm Lady.  


The lawyer just told me, "Oh, by the way, you are sworn in now," before we ever went in the courtroom.  No raising colorful hand.  Not one bit like on Perry Mason.


Then we sat at a table with the judge, and I said yes or no (as appropriate) to questions like:  

• Did your dad have or adopt any children after 1996?
• Have you ever been found mentally incapacitated?
• Does your family still have that meth lab down in the holler?
• Will your brother Darryl or your other brother Darryl contest this will?

Raise your right hand and repeat after me ...  No, your other right hand.

I kind of wanted to stay and watch the probate judge's final hearing of the day as it was going to be a doozy. The old lady had already cussed out her court-appointed attorney in the lobby for never having contacted her, for arriving late with no necktie and no yellow legal pad, and for limping with a torn knee ligament.  She was scattershooting her disgust with the over-air conditioned courthouse. Her husband and daughter were with their attorney who had a mouth like Martha Raye trying to get some kind of guardianship over the woman so she wouldn't do something financially wacko.  


Maybe I just haven't watched Judge Judy since Dad died.

No, that is not me. That is Elena Kagan being sworn in. And Midge being sworn in to Barbie's court. And a magenta zebra puppet ready to tell the whole truth.  And some lady who is the new health commissioner of the US Virgin Islands. And an altered photo of Michelle Obama's glove on Inauguration Day.

© 2012 Nancy L. Ruder