Had my very first experience with a client taking a lie detector today.
He was lying.
Now, I wonder, what makes people think they can outwit these machines? What makes them think they can outwit me. Okay, maybe they can outwit me, but not the polygraph guy. This is his job. He knows what to look for, he knows what questions to ask. And, he’s looking to give these people an out by asking the questions in different ways.
So, I don’t know if doing this is a very good idea cause now I know that the blood pressure machine on steroids thinks the client is not telling the truth. What am I supposed to do with that information? Anyone, anyone? Bueller.
Grandma, you’ve only been gone a week, but I miss you like crazy. See, its too bad I had to learn this lesson this way. I took you for granted, I thought you would always be around, that there would be time ‘later’ to ask you about your life, about who you were, how you felt. I never thought that one day you would be here, and the next you might be gone.
In my mind, when I close my eyes, I see your face. I see you telling me to comb the back of my head, and to speak softly to my husband. I see you sitting at your sewing table and calling me towards you, speaking in your strong willed, strong toned voice, asking me if I like the latest piece you created. You were an artist. Gifted. Before your time.
We have a saying in our language, you know it grandma, its not as pretty in english, but basically, I was not worthy of you. We were, not one of us worthy. If I could have the strength and goodness that you had in your fingernail, I would be a great person.
Grandma, I love you. Did I ever tell you that? We don’t even have a phrase for it, do we? I hope you can hear me now. I hope you can finally read, maybe even write. I hope you can finally take off all of your long clothes and feel the sun on your back. Grandma, is it true there is a river of honey? Is it true you can eat and drink anything you want? Do you still have to pray five times a day, or is God happy with what you’ve done? What does he think about us? What does he say about me? Is grandpa with you? After 25 years? How about your children who died so small? And your sisters? Are they there? Are you happy? Do you look at us down here, crying today, crying the way we probably did on the day we were born, are you looking down on us and wondering why? Why could we be so sad when you are free. I hope so.
I love you grandma. I am not worthy of you. But I am so proud I am from you.
Sometimes I confuse things I’ve seen on “The Wire” with my real life cases. Watching that show has been a real learning tool for me. Clients ask me why I moved to Baltimore and frequently I’ll laugh and say “Because of The Wire and Homicide” and they giggle and say “oh yeah, the Wire man, that show be for real.” Cops hassling kids and old people alike, drug crimes and bodies piling up on all ends of the city. I tell my clients that I love this city and they look at me like I’m crazy. “You must live in Federal Hill, or Canton. You don’t live in the hood like we do.” I tell them where I live and they say “Yeah, its not the ghetto. You sit on your front steps, do cops come up and tell you to move? Do you avoid sitting on your front steps so that drug dealers won’t come by and get you in trouble” No, the cops don’t hassle me, and no, I don’t tend to avoid my steps because of drug dealers. I don’t live in the hood. I only drive through the hood, very quickly at that. These people have lived here their whole lives, not because they love it, or they don’t dream of a different life. They stay because its all they know. And probably because its home.
So, next time you watch the Wire, think of me. This city is exactly like T.V., but better.
I’m thirty four years old. There, I’ve said it. But, I’ve never looked my age. When I was younger, I was one of those 17 year olds who looked 10 and everyone would say “you’ll be greatful when you are older” and I am. Most clients looks at me with a bit of hesitation because they think I’m right out of law school. I have to tell them that I’ve been in this mess for over seven years and that lets them breathe a bit easier. However, seven weeks on this job and I’m starting to look my age. I don’t know why this job has aged me more than my last. It might be the city air in combination with the lack of serious nutrition, my running regimine (I’m training for the Philly marathon in November) and the exessive number of hours I work. I do believe my last job was more stressful than this one, this one has more cases and more multi-tasking. Maybe women just start to look their age at 34? Or, maybe I need to get more sleep.
You know, blogging was more fun when you could maintain anonymity. I guess I didn’t even try very hard to be anonymous but because of the lack of said anonymity, I can’t even say what I want to say. Sucks.
Our client didn’t go into the Grand Jury. He decided he’d rather take his chances with a jury, when its not so much of a kangaroo court. He was indicted for manslaughter, and I think the only way for him to have avoided the charge at all was to testify. But, its hard to call these things and, at the end of the day, it was his decision.
I have a gorgeous view out of my office window. When I figure out how to use the picture thingie on Blogger, I will show you all.