Escaping Jury Duty

Last week I was on call for jury duty. I had a pretty low group number, so it seemed likely I'd be summoned to the courthouse. Instead, I checked the web site Monday at 11 am and saw that I was being called in... and then checked half an hour later to get directions and saw that I was no longer on call. So I had to check the site twice a day, but while a few other groups got called in, mine never did. And on Friday at 11 am, I saw that I was finally free, and am exempt for one year. Yay!

A rather different experience from last time, all things considered. But I'm glad I didn't get called in. Being on call once every three years is not so bad.

I suppose if I live in California long enough I'll eventually serve on a jury. When that happens, ask me again if it's "not so bad"!

Debbi and I mostly spent the weekend running errands, as we have not had a lot of time to keep up with stuff lately.

I also read the book for Sunday's Kepler's SF book discussion. This time it was The Etched City by K.J. Bishop. Although very superficially similar to China Mieville's Perdido Street Station, I found City to be light on ideas and plot. Heavy on writing style, but that's rarely a primary factor of enjoyment for me.

The story concerns a couple of outsiders - the gunfighter Gwynn, and the doctor Raule - who come to the city of Ashamoil. Raule becomes a doctor to the underclass, while Gwynn becomes a highly-placed henchman of one of the local mob bosses. But the story is mostly Gwynn's, as he meets and falls in love with an enigmatic artist named Beth, and becomes ever-more-deeply embroiled in the underworld dramas being played out in Ashamoil.

The book opens with a lengthy segment - focusing on Raule - about Gwynn and Raule leaving Raule's homeland after being on the losing side of a civil war. This part is the best part of the book, but is almost completely irrelevant to everything thereafter. The remainder of the book belongs to Gwynn, who is a fairly engaging character, although difficult to get behind since his morals are rather shaky and he has trouble committing to things. The supporting characters are mostly two-dimensional, save for the lively character of the Rev, a man of god who has undertaken to save Gwynn's soul. Ashamoil is a surprisingly faceless place, as other than a small handful of features it seemed an utterly generic city caught between medieval and Industrial Revolution times. There's no sense of culture, or government, or politics; just squalor and crime.

The story moves right along, but ultimately doesn't go much of anywhere. The main characters don't really learn from their experiences, and the last 50 pages are rife with deus ex machinas. So ultimately I can't recommend it, unless beauty of linguistic style can make a novel for you. Beyond that, it's a pretty empty book.

Tonight we went to the Athletics home opener. The Network Associated Coliseum (formerly the Oakland Coliseum) has been renamed the McAfee Coliseum - yay. The A's hosted the Toronto Blue Jays, and about 44,000 fans turned out for the first game of the year on a relatively warm night.

Those were the high points for the home team: Kirk Saarloos gave up hit after hit, and other than a home run by Eric Byrnes, and A's fans didn't have a lot to cheer about. The Jays won running away, 10-3.

Still, it was good to get to the ballpark again. The Red Sox are in town in May, and this year I'm going to go see them play, darnit. Last year - their World Series victory year - was the first year in about a decade when I didn't see them live, as circumstances conspired against me the whole way. Grr.

Lastly, on Friday I had another article published at the Baseball Prospectus web site. However, you need to be a subscribe to read it. The BP guys seem to like my stuff; I wish I had the time and data to produce new articles more regularly.