Thursday, August 09, 2007


Getting picked for kickball when you're a kid is pretty stressful. It's a blatant popularity contest and you understand first hand exactly where you are in the social hierarchy. It's a cold, sobering moment. You stand there along the fence with all the other kids, trying to look tough and mean, hoping that you'll get picked next.

You watch as the team captains pick players, hoping someone wants you on their team, comparing yourself to who's left, thinking "C'mon... c'mon..."

You think you would grow out of this as you get older and that you won't ever have to deal with this kind of stress ever again. But then jury duty comes around. And now it's the exact opposite.

You're sitting there as the lawyers are picking members to fill the jury box, so you try to look all mean and tough and deranged hoping you don't get picked, hoping nobody wants you in the jury, comparing yourself to who's left, thinking "C'mon... c'mon..."