Getting belted at the courthouse

Newspaper reporters who cover the courts are constantly bombarded with hundreds of felony cases – robberies, assaults, drug deals and a profusion of sex offenses that would make the Marquis de Sade blush – and that’s just in the parking lot…

It’s tough to decide which cases to cover immediately and which cases to put on the back burner for awhile.

The toughest decision courthouse reporters have to make on a daily basis, though, is which belt to wear.

You see, these days almost all courthouses in California are equipped with some type of electronic security system to scan visitors for knives, guns and the occasional Stinger missile.

They also warn of car keys, steel-toed boots, wristwatches and, more often than not, metal belt buckles. Not all metal belt buckles, mind you, just some of them.

And you never know which belt buckle is going to set off alarms until you’re halfway through the metal detector.

Let’s face it, there are few things more bothersome that becoming the center of attention because your belt buckle has triggered a terrorist alert.

Depending upon which courthouse you were foolish enough to enter, setting off the alarm usually necessitates a quick about-face for removal of the offending item of clothing as you desperately try to keep your trousers from falling to the floor.

And since everybody’s already staring at you, the last thing you need to do is step into the spotlight with your pants at half mast.

This entire procedure, of course, slows down the line for the metal detector and can seriously annoy your fellow courthouse visitors (particularly the big guy named Sledge who’s standing behind you in line with what appears to be a machete strapped to his waist).

Thus it stands to reason that we courthouse reporters – who may have to enter the building five or six times a day – spend a lot of our free time shopping for just the right belt to wear when we enter the hallowed halls of justice.

It’s a quest of sorts.

A newspaper colleague of mine from the strategically unimportant beer-brewing community of Fairfield recently told me he’s found one belt that never sets off the metal detector, but that he’s always looking for just one more for a little variety. Since he can’t take the courthouse metal detector to the mall with him, though, he’s found himself repeatedly purchasing belts that trigger security systems from Vallejo to Venice.

Being the understanding kind of guy I am, I initially wrote the poor fellow off as a hopeless nitwit.

No longer. I now own a dozen belts myself, of which only two have proven to be non-metallic enough to get past courthouse security. The rest of them I wear with giddy abandon on weekends, holidays and while visiting regional department stores to purchase more belts.

There is, of course, an upside to our dilemma. Eventually, all of the reporters who cover the courthouse on a daily basis will be able to band together and open their own “World O’ Belts” discount store in Cordelia. We should have an outstanding selection for discriminating Solano County belt buyers – as long as they’re not going to court anytime soon…

Originally published February 2, 2003

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