Antics from Jasper Provincial Court

Last Friday in the Maritimes a man stole a school bus and proceed at speeds topping 100 km/h – OJ Simpson style – in an attempt to outrun police. Although, to OJ’s credit, a white Ford Bronco is likely a faster and more inconspicuous vehicle to outrun news helicopters than a big yellow school bus. The chase ended when the cheese can hit a parked police cruiser and the impaired man – under the influence of, lets say screech rum for comedic purposes – attempted to flee the scene.  

Reading that he was quickly apprehended and facing at least four charges, I began to think about my trip to Jasper’s courthouse last week and the utter ignorance, stupidity and disrespect exhibited and in fact embodied by some of the accused. 

The retelling of incidents from last week’s court date, as well as some reflections, may leave you with feelings of superiority, embarrassment, disgust, sadness, or simply gut-busting laughter. 

First, why don’t the accused show up to court? One fellow had failed to appear three times. His lawyer tried to blame his absence on the ‘system’. Nonsense, said Judge D.C. Norheim. The accused wasn’t forced to abscond from the jurisdiction by the system. Unless he’s Aladdin and the winds of the judicial system carried him outside the province on a magic carpet, the accused left on his own two feet. Either way, a warrant for his capture was issued.  

Second, why when they do show up at court, do the accused look like they just rolled out of bed? I’m all for keeping things casual, but really, who goes to court wearing the same clothes they wore on a bender the night before? Think about going to court as if you were headed to a really important job interview – the most important one of your life. Are you going to go to a potential employer unkempt and smelling like you just bathed at a distillery?   

Whether we like it or not, perception seems to count for a lot these days. I loathe dress clothes, but when I went to my first job interview I at least had enough common sense to wear a collared shirt, tie, dress pants and my dad’s sweater vest. I may have had an uncanny resemblance to the guy who carried a briefcase in my high school, and my soon-to-be employer was wearing sweat pants, but there’s a certain level of deference and respect that should be accorded to those holding your destiny.

Third, maybe defendants are a bit nervous addressing the court, but one neanderthal, when asked by the judge if he had a criminal record responded, obviously influenced by – or simply under the influence – Homer Simpson, “Ahhhhhhh... dehhhhh... no.”  Anyone taking the better part of 30 seconds to remember if they have a criminal record might as well slap the cuffs on themselves. 

Now and then I like to have a couple of libations and sometimes even a few too many, but never have I gotten so intoxicated that I didn’t know where I was or what I was doing. A 21- year-old, who according to his defence attorney had very little experience with alcohol, got so intoxicated that instead of going to his own residence, he broke into a stranger’s home to pass out. Since he was more than a few sheets to the wind, the homeowner easily restrained him with one hand while he called the police with his other.  When asked by the judge what he had done about his drinking, the defendant said he hadn’t indulged in the drink since that incident. Well then, call Michaëlle Jean, have her roll out the red carpet and let’s give him the order of Canada as he’s surely the poster-boy for a new temperance movement.

Maybe this piece reeks of elitism, but to would-be lawbreakers, be prudent, buy a collared shirt instead of your next sack of contraband, take a shower, even go so far as to shave, be prepared, and for the sake of preventing stomach ulcers from forming the next time I cover court, please – at bare minimum – look like you care.