Sons Of Anarchy

Earlier this morning, I sat in a courtroom with a hundred or so of my new closest friends.

Over my adult life, I have spent time in these settings, usually attributed to a “need for speed.”

Unfortunately, the officers involved in these incidents usually answers with a “no to go”.

Those seated closest to me, was probably wondering why is this snappily dressed attorney sitting on the back row in the back corner of the courtroom.

Honest to goodness, in previous court proceedings I have been asked in the hallway if I am an attorney.  (I think they were looking for free hallway legal counsel.)

Because my undergrad was partially in the area of pre-law, and if I had not had a horrible GPA, a wife, a one year old daughter, a mortgage and a very stressful job as a congressional staffer, I might have gone on to law school.

But back to today’s events.

The judge called each person’s name and asked for a plea.

I pled to have a “conference with the solicitor”.

I did and they sent me back to the courtroom.

When the judge called me up before him, I stood with confidence, good posture, buttoned my coat jacket, lowered my voice by one octave and said a lot of “yes sirs” and “no sirs”.

It went like this.

He: “Mr. Hembree, you have met with the solicitor and understand your charges, is that correct?”

Me: “Yes your Honor.”

He: “How do you wish to plead?”

Me: “Guilty with no money your Honor.”

A few questions later and I was sitting in the office of my very own probation officer.

Signed a few pieces of paper and I was entered into the court system as a “probationer.”

I did not get a cool number like in Les Mis.

By this time, I could feel my street cred already getting stronger, even before I got out of the court building.

I have chosen to pay over time half of the fine and the other half to be worked off in community service at one of three options.

I asked for the local food pantry.

Not one of the options.

Which ever one gives out the orange suits is the one I want.

As I was saying good-bye to my probation officer, I asked if my next stop should be to the Ink Wizard in my local community, so I can get my tats picked out.

This is a true story.

Moral of the story: When you find yourself in a jam, negate the negative outlook.

Find the positive in everything.

Look at this way.

I am going to have the opportunity to write about these experiences.

And I am going to have the opportunity to interact with others serving community service.

I would like to be the one that brings them hope for the present and certainly for the future.

For now, I have got to go watch back episodes of Sons of Anarchy, so I can get the feel as to how Jax Teller would handle all of this.

Smooth with collective cool I bet.

Look for the adventure in everything that comes your way.

It’s there.

John

P.S. I hear chicks dig “bad boys”.