I was selected for 2 weeks of jury duty last fall — and since I had travel plans and then my foot surgery looming, I was able to postpone my service until January.  Like anyone else, I prefer not to have my routine and work disrupted, but I do believe that having a justice system based on civil rights is pretty dandy, so I put on my sense of duty and packed up my lunch and my knitting and headed down to our county courthouse early Tuesday morning.  

What happens next….well, it was unprecedented in my experience.  THEY TOOK MY KNITTING!  

Apparently, knitting needles are now forbidden in the county building.  This had not been the case the last two times I had served on juries there.  Nor was it listed with firearms and blades on the "do not bring" warning I had seen the website.  But there was the security guard politely telling me to surrender  my needles.  You could have knocked me over with a tapestry needle.  I blubbered something about did that mean I could not have them at all while I was in the building?  Which of course it did.  And I handed over my two pouches of knitting, tucked the claim ticket into my wallet, and headed off to the jury assembly room wondering how I was going to get through the hours of sitting around waiting for the wheels of justice to turn without my knitting.

I spent some of my knittingless time wondering if I might be permitted to bring a crochet hook the next day.  But there was no way I could think of to describe a crochet hook to the (very young) security guard without making it sound just as lethal as a knitting needle.  And the pamphlet I was given when I checked in made it clear that sewing materials of any kind, as well as knitting needles, were forbidden.

i spent more of my knittingless time recalling movies where the bad guys blew up government buildings using laptop computers and cell phones — and reflecting that those were not confiscated at the door.  And I spent a little more time imagining how one might assault a person with items that were considered safe — and then I decided that was neither a healthy nor useful line of thought and I pulled out my book and read until my name was called.

As it turned out, my jury service ended that day.  The case I was called for "went away" that afternoon and my group number was not called again during the week — and as of January 1st of this year the term of duty had been reduced to one week (which I just found out).  So, the hours of sitting knitting less never materialized.  Fortunately!

I am still annoyed about the whole knitting needle business though.  My son-in-law told me that the reason they are forbidden is that someone had "shanked" someone with a knitting needle in the county building.  Well, I bet the shanker was not a knitter.  For one, I cannot see a knitter — however provoked — pulling a knitting needle out of his stitches to attack someone in a sudden fit of fury.  And as for premeditated use of the knitting needle as weapon — well, if you do it in the county building you are for sure going to be caught  and then once they put the moratorium on knitting needles (as you gotta figure they will) you would be spending a lot of time in a building that forbids knitting.  Now, what knitter would do that?

So, although I know nothing of the case, I figure it was a non-knitter.  And my proposal is this, county building security guys, why not do what you do with water bottles?  You make us take sip out of the bottle to prove it is safe.  Why not just make us knit a little to prove that we are sincere knitters?  Innocent until proven guilty, right?  A knitting needle is not a weapon,  It is a tool.  And unless you are going to ban pens, pencils, screwdrivers, nail files, umbrellas, hardcover books, stilettos heels, silk scarves, belts, neckties, laptop computers…well, you get the idea…you ought to let us keep our needles.

And that's how I feel about that!