Dream of: 01 April 2005 "No Me Hace Daņo"

I was watching a case in a courtroom in a south-Texas border county. I myself was thinking I might like to practice law again, but I would only want to do trial work. I needed to brush up on the rules of evidence. I would prefer to practice law in Germany. I might go to Germany for two years to learn the language and the law. Then I would return to the United States and practice law for one year. After a year in the United States, I would go back to Germany and practice trial law there. I was 52 years old and after 3 years I would be 55, so I still had time; but I knew time was running out and I needed to get started if I were going to do it. 

The courtroom had been empty at first, except for those sitting at the counsel table. As the case had proceeded, however, the room had filled up with spectators. One thin fellow (about 30 years old) suddenly started running around the courtroom. He would run up the aisle on the right, cross the front of the courtroom to the aisle on the left, run back to the rear and around again to the aisle on the right, making a circle. After he had raced around several times, disrupting the whole procedure, I finally stood up and as he ran past me, I grabbed him. He tried to pull away, but I wouldn't let go. He threatened me, but I still wouldn't release him. 

A police officer stepped up behind the man and grabbed him from behind (I was holding him from the front). The officer and I subdued the man and pulled him out into the hall. Now he seemed rather apologetic. He explained that he had been chasing his wife (apparently they were getting a divorce). He was apparently in a band, and one of his band's songs had played on the radio right before a song of a very famous band had played. He thought since he had now been on the radio, he would be able to write songs and support his wife. His whole story sounded ridiculous to me and I told him so. I said that was a ridiculous reason to be running around the courtroom. 

The police officer led the man into a little room and I followed. Another man who was apparently the jailer of the jail here, stepped into the room and all four of us sat down at a table. The jailer gave the police officer and me a paper with questions on two sides about what had happened. 

I knew it wasn't important for me to fill out the paper, but the paper interested me. So I very carefully read every question before writing an answer. A place was even given in a blank box in which a little cartoon could be drawn to describe what had taken place. I didn't intend to draw the cartoon, but I conscientiously answered every question. It took quite a while.

The police officer, meanwhile, had raced right through his questions and now he sat there waiting and waiting for me to finish. The jailer, also impatient, asked me if I were about to finish.

I reached the last question, which asked what I would do if I were standing in a field close to the Mexican border and I heard a Mexican who had just crossed the border scream out, "Me roban!" What would I do? I knew I was supposed to say that I would try to capture the Mexican because he had illegally crossed the border, but I knew I wouldn't do that because I didn't' care if the Mexicans crossed the border. So I carefully wrote out in very large letters, "No Me Hace Daņo" (meaning It doesn't bother me).

I figured my answer would upset the officer and the jailer, but the jailer was simply glad that I had finished. He grabbed up my paper and he indicated that I could now leave. 

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