I have many not my best ideas.
Now, not being facetious. IMO this discussion about lightbulbs perfectly illustrates the fundamental wisdom of our jury system.
Let's say the jury thinks that tossing in of the lightbulbs is significant enough to discuss as potential evidence of malice. How to assess the significance of just that one act, the tossing of lightbulbs?
Doesn't it depend on just what we're discussing, which is, part of what each juror would bring to the discussion (overtly, or in their own thoughts) is their own notion of whether or not it's normal" to throw lightbulbs into a car?
(WONK ALERT)
The jury system, if jurors are impartial and diligent (and I believe most are), is designed to force a group of strangers to reach a consensus. Jury deliberations are guided by what the law requires, but unavoidably and mercifully can't be divorced from the individual and collective experience brought to bear by the jurors themselves.
Is it significant that RH tossed the lightbulbs? Only if that particular group of jurors, based in part on their own experience of light bulb handling, reach a consensus that it is.
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Uber wonky, I know, but I always marvel at the process.
I think there will be strong opinions among the jurors. Very strong. But I am hopeful that unlike us, they didn't go into deliberations with their kinds made up. So they are going to maybe view the evidence much differently than ANY of us. I believe that those of us convinced one way or the other simply view the evidence in a way that confirms our biases. Because it is no coincidence that everyone who thinks Ross is innocent would toss light bulbs into a car and everyone who doesn't would not. (P.S., I had to struggle with my bias greatly to realize and admit that I definitely could toss light bulbs into my car. I mean there is a reason I break so much stuff!).
But for me, it;s just the raft of "coincidences" that befell poor Ross that day. There have been too much.
1. He just happened to decide it was imperative to stop at his car to drop off lightbulbs he purchased on the day his son died in the car, instead of taking them to his workspace.
2. He just happened to be the type of personality who thinks lightbulbs are important enough to go out of your way to take to the car during lunch, but not important enough to place them on the backseat or at least not toss them in without looking.
3. He just happened to remember every last detail of his day, but "forgot" that he went back to his car at lunch, when his son lay there dying, and coincidentally omitted that one, horrible fact from his detailed account of the day to investigators.
4. He just happened to not be the type to turn around when backing up between two parked cars.
5. He just happened to take a longer route to the movies that day. One that conveniently had him turning right and "discovering" Cooper in a crowded parking lot.
6. After entering the restaurant wide awake, running around inside it (according to him), being awake enough to kiss Daddy on the cheek and say "school", Cooper just happened to be so exhausted that he instantaneously fell asleep and made zero noise for the next 40 seconds in the car, or any time after.
7. Ross just happened to forget his son after having recently watched a news report about a FBS dad turned advocate recently before Cooper's death, who taught him about the look back campaign.
8. Ross just happened to not "look again" that day, despite saying that's what he does to make sure his worst fear didn't come true.
9. He just happened to watch a hot car video from a vet five days before Cooper died. He just happened to commented that he did not want that to happen to his son, not dog. Yet he just happened to totally forget what he just saw, on the day he drove his son.
I mean I could go on and on. For me, at a certain point, it's too much.