In the downtown Los Angeles courthouse for jury duty one day, Phil Spector walked past me on his way to trial, but I wasn’t quick enough on the draw to take a pic with my celly. The kickass-botched-celebrity-murderer-sighting-of-a-lifetime.As a child, one of the aspects of L.A. that drew me here, besides the sunshine/surfing/movie stars and assorted benefits, was the quirkiness: earthquakes and circus murder trials.
The town turned out to be everything I imagined and more. But with age came a love for justice that outweighed my love for Cali nuttiness, and I'm damn glad to see it finally kick in.
If you feel the need to shut your significant other’s yapper full-time, you’re ten years too late. The California judicial system has atoned for O.J. and Robert Blake by putting Scott Peterson on death row, and now throwing Phil Spector in the clink.
Meanwhile, drunken Andrew Gallo, who plowed into and killed three people, including Angels pitcher Nick Adenhart, won't be getting out of his triple-murder rap. (Check out this fitting shot of Nick taken a month before he died, and note how the “S” is folded out of sight.)
Good to have some normalcy. Watch your ass.
