My Sunday Feeling

 Like many people, I watched the Derek Chauvin sentencing hearing Friday. I am no criminal lawyer but I’m friends with people that are.  On both sides of the line.  That and I know a thing or two just from being around as long as I have been around.  

Cases like these serve like unto a national Rorschach test in that people look at the outcomes and see different things that are largely personal to them.  And naturally they put them out there on Facebook.  The responses seem to be as polarized as anything else in the national zeitgeist. 

Chauvin caught 22 and a half years from Judge Peter Cahill.  The minimum sentence according to the Minnesota Sentencing Guidelines would have been 12.5.  The Prosecution wanted an upward departure to 30.  The defense wanted probation as Chauvin was a first time offender.  The 22.5 year sentence meted out was decried by some as too light and too harsh by some.

If I were the King of the World I would have given him 50.  The video was shocking.  Mr. Floyd was accused of passing a counterfeit bill.  And according to the medical evidence that was adduced at trial, Mr. Floyd was executed for it.  I would have put Chauvin away forever to serve as a warning to bad cops everywhere.

But I’m not the King of the World and neither are you.  

As I mentioned above, all states (I’m pretty sure) and the United States sentence defendants pursuant to guidelines.  These guidelines, hopefully, take into account the Defendant’s criminal history, the crime committed and the harm to the victim.  They represent a final product after input from the Prosecution and Defense bars in order to remove as much discretion from judges in sentencing albeit for different reasons.  

Judge Cahill attached a Memorandum to his Order in which he explained his reasoning.  In short, he that the aggravating circumstances present in the case warranted an upward departure from the sentence of 12.5 years called for by the Minnesota guidelines and he considered 10 years to be appropriate rather than the 18 requested by the State.  This was based, in part, of his analysis of similarly situated Defendants who had been sentenced for the same offense. You can read the memo if you want to.  It’s a matter of public record.  

In short, this is my take of his reasoning in layman’s terms.  Derek Chauvin was never a candidate for probation.  I mean, c’mon.  Secondly, Chauvin may have picked a particularly heinous and gruesome way to stray from the straight and narrow, but he was a first time offender.  That carries a lot of weight in the sentencing guidelines.  And without walking around in his head I’m guessing that the judge didn’t want to get reversed for maxing out a first time offender no matter how much he deserved it.  But he gave him 10 more years to do which he found to be within an acceptable range.

People forget something very important.  Guilt (or innocence for that matter) is a conclusion of law.  This is why when one pleads guilty the Court advises the Defendant that “the Court accepts your plea and hereby FINDS you guilty.”  Similarly speaking, a sentencing order is a conclusion of law.  Judge Cahill struck me as a sober minded jurist.  Lance Ito he is not. His reasoning for how he ruled is clear and likely to be bulletproof on appeal.

Bottom line:  No cop that gets videoed choking to death an otherwise subdued suspect will get probation.  Period.  No first time offender that doesn’t commit a capital offense is gonna get maxxed out.  

It was not a perfect resolution based on a precise mathematical formula.  But it was one based on facts and the law.  And that’s the best we can ever hope for from our judges.

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The Deacon is kind, patient and slow to anger.  We may add “long suffering” to her list of virtues.  Yesterday afternoon she sat through “The Sparks Brothers” documentary. All two hours and twenty minutes of it.  Say what you will about Sparks-and up until I watched the documentary today I had no idea that they were the most influential act in the history of rock music-Ron and Russell Mael are two strange dudes.  Especially Ronald.  

She claimed that she enjoyed it despite her not quite having the appreciation for serious weirdness that I have.  So we can also add “polite” to her list.  But I’m also guessing that she will not appreciate me singing “Pretending To Be Drunk” in the shower anytime soon.

My Sunday Post-Pandemic Father’s Day Feeling

 Funny.  I don’t remember much of anything that went down this time last year.  Maybe it’s some sort of COVID related amnesia syndrome without my ever actually acquiring the disease itself.  Which is OK by me.

Not that there would have been much to remember.  As I wrote in the paper last year I am merely the “local dad.”  And I think that title still fits.  Joe and Sarah don’t need a father.  They have one already.  He just doesn’t live anywhere near here.  But they stay in pretty constant touch with him through the miracle of cell phone and zoom.  I can’t visit with Buck unless I invest in a Ouija board or go see that psychic lady outside Mayflower.

No. I don’t remember Father’s Day of last year because there is no point.  Being a stepfather is mostly an honorific conveying no real power or duties.  So I’m certain that nothing resembling a fuss was made over me.  That, too, is OK by me.  I’m not one to stand on ceremony around here.  Or anywhere else for that matter.  

But I don’t remember much about last year period.  And what I do recall ain’t real good.  So much fear.  So much anxiety.  So much misinformation. So little to do.  

I was visiting with a friend at her business yesterday.  And she allowed as how it feels as if she and her husband have to re-learn how to “do” other people.  To be social again.  She and Chris bought a big house just in time to not be able to open it up to others.  

I can relate.  We had only been here @ year before we were in the same boat.  One of the things the Deacon liked about our house was the potential for entertaining, especially on the porch and the deck.  

And yet, now that we and all of our friends (that we know of) have been vaccinated, we still seem not to be able to get out of that inert state.  We still order out instead of going out.  And we still haven’t had many folks over.  Or been invited to that many people’s homes.

It’s like we are all still “comfortably numb” as Pink Floyd once put it.  It’s like we aren’t really doing what we said we would do once the plague has passed our doors.  

So maybe this is the best way for a quasi or pseudo dad such as myself to “do” Father’s Day. I hit some sales.  Will either play or watch golf today.  Maybe participate in the “form” of Father’s Day as Plato might put it, since the true import of the day is nothing that applies to me.  Or some damn thing.

And like I said.  That’s OK by me.  I’m in a good spot.  We are all coming out of the fog.  

Maybe I’ll go see that lady over to Greenbrier.  Perhaps paying to communicate with the next world can become my particular Father’s Day tradition.

Better to consult a professional because fooling with a Ouija board on this or any other day is to indulge in rank superstition.  Right?

Happy Father’s Day!  

 

My Sunday Feeling

 All of us tend to take the convenience of stuff we can do on the Internet for granted.  QAnon conspiracy theorists and porn addicts aside, there are many ways the Internet has made conducting our lives more convenient.  We use the ‘Net to shop, to consume media, and to play games.  I made the counter on my old house on my iPad at a Catholic High baseball game out at Lamar Porter for one more example.

And if you are also like me you probably pay a lot if not most of your bills online.  I might write 3-4 checks a month.  A box of checks will last me a year if not longer.  Really convenient.  But every now and again something crazy pops up that takes some time to unwind.  This is what happened to me a week or so.

I was looking at my checking account when I noticed that the balance seemed low.  Lower then usual even.  Like most banks, the one I use lets me look at the actual copies of paper items (as us commercial lawyers say) drawn against my account.  When I started poking around to try to stop the bleeding, I discovered two checks written on a Trust account opened at my bank’s branch up in northwest Arkansas that were paid by me in the total amount of @$3000.00.  Paid by me.  Not written by me.  Not a forgery.  Checks written on a Trust account, signed by the Trustee (completely unknown to me) and charged to my checking account.

The first thing I did was to call my banker.  Actually the first thing I did was to text my wife to tell her not to deposit the check I wrote her for my half of the monthly nut as it was now, well, hot.  I then called my banker who said she would look into it.  

Eventually she called.

“Evidently the account he wrote those checks on has your account number on them,” she said.

“What?”I exclaimed. “How could this happen? I’ve never heard of this guy and I just paid his state and county taxes.”

“Maybe the check company made a mistake.  I don’t know.  The branch manager up there is trying to get ahold of his customer.  The good news is that the gentleman doesn’t write many checks on that account. In the meantime, I’ve restored the money to your account.  Hopefully this will solve the problem.”  This was on a Friday.

So, imagine my amusement the following Monday when I saw a -$17,000 overdraft and overdraft charge on the account.  Evidently my twin up in the Ozarks bought or paid off a vehicle with an Electronic Transfer of Funds through that Trust account.

I sent my banker an email.  

“It’s bad enough that I am now, at least on paper, destitute,” I wrote.  “But I resent highly being assessed an overdraft fee when I’m not the one kiting checks and ETFs all over northwest Arkansas.”

She assured me that she would get to the bottom of this.  

“OK, this looks like fraud,” she said. “But I’m reluctant to push that button just yet.  If I push that button I lose all control, and security will shut down all these accounts for the time being.  You pay a lot of bills automatically.  This would be a real pain for you.  I’ve got a call into the manager up there.  I’m gonna tell him he really needs to get his arms around this situation.”

The money got restored the next day and the overdraft fee was removed.  Even better, the check I wrote my wife cleared. My banker called with the explanation.

“Here’s what happened.  Apparently the man on the Trust account is an older man.  He tried to save some money by ordering checks online rather than through the bank and wound up inputting your account number by accident.  After you discovered the error, he was told by the branch up there not to write any more checks on that account until they could get it fixed.”

“So he did an ETF instead?,” I said. “That’s missing the point ain’t it?”

“Yes it is.  But that account has been closed and his old account with the correct number has been restored. Surely this little problem is solved.  Just keep an eye on your account just to make sure.”

So far so good.  The only suspicious transactions I’ve noticed since then are the usual ones I perform on a weekly basis.  As usual, I have no one to blame but myself. Which is the way it should be.

This story is proof that we should all keep an eye on our financial accounts.  People get hacked. Or an old man might be paying off his truck through your account number. The Internet has made our lives much more convenient.  But when something gets screwed up in the present age the ripple effect can be pretty large.  You never know.

And whenever you get a new box of checks, you will note that the first thing you will see inside is a warning that you should examine them to make sure the information engraved thereon is correct.

Take my word for it.  You should do it.