Family law court is always a nice change of pace from the usual parade of (cha-ching) attorneys in the Valley. During the drive to Sacramento, I can't stop thinking about taking lunch and buying some olive-oil bottles and checking out a mandoline slicer.
I am about a half an hour early and I enter the courtroom at the tail end of the “calendar.” The last case is reminiscent of Kramer v. Kramer without the kid and without the humor. Ok, so it’s nothing at all like the movie, but the mom is asking the judge to extend her restraining order against the dad. The judge spends the next five minutes citing all the different things that would violate the order and then asks the dad if he’s ok with that. He says “Yeah” and exits visibly upset.
After some photos of the judge, I head over to the Third District Court of Appeal, where the security is lax and the judges are high profile. I am amazed at the disparity in security at courthouses. At the family law court, I am scanning my baggage and being questioned; now I am simply telling the lone, bored guard that I’m here to shoot photos of so-and-so. My bags don’t even get noticed as I am led upstairs and ushered into the judge's chambers.
