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On top of the heap, with eyes wide shut
© St. Petersburg Times, published January 7, 2001 Hearing the chief judge of a county with a million people declare that he has little power is like hearing a Fortune 500 CEO complain about his stock options. A part of you, ordinary you, absolutely cannot relate. The other part of you wants to get in the face of the judge and the CEO and ask, most impertinently and very loudly, if they think you have the IQ of a plastic house plant. I have before me a two-page statement from F. Dennis Alvarez, the chief judge of Hillsborough County. He issued it after a part of a grand jury report on sex in the courthouse and other curiosities was released last week. Regrettably, all the juicy parts of the grand jury report were excised. What remained was mush, some of which was directed at Alvarez. The grand jury said it "wished" -- as in a fairy tale -- that Alvarez had done more to prevent the "embarrassment" -- a real zinger -- presented by not one, not two, but three judges messing around with women who worked in the courthouse. The grand jury then said it wanted to "encourage" -- a bellicose verb, to be sure -- various gravely named governmental bodies to consider whether it is wise for a judge to serve as chief judge in near perpetuity as Alvarez has. You'd have thought they had accused him of being Ferdinand Marcos. Or worse yet, Imelda Marcos. "I consider their observation about me and my office to be unsupported by the facts," harrumphed Alvarez. He said they didn't ask him the right questions. That they didn't understand his job. That he couldn't control other judges because he didn't have the power. This is the guy who decides whether to exile a judge he's mad at to the emotional misery of juvenile court, where kids it is too late to help show up and show up and show up again. This is the guy who decides whether a judge gets a new couch for his office. Alvarez's point must be he can't control what a judge does on the couch and with whom. In this courthouse, where you can't blow your nose without 10 people discussing it, that's a load of groceries. He knew. It was his job to know. He was the chief judge. So if he didn't know, he must not have been doing a very good job at his chief judgeship, which is not a good thing when you are lusting after the Tampa mayorship, as Alvarez now is, since his hopes of becoming state attorney were dashed last summer. You think he might have a delusion of grandeur problem, too? When a man defends himself so loudly against so little, he comes off as very scared at what's coming next. Next in Alvarez's case is reportedly an inquiry from the Judicial Qualifications Commission, which does not file reports full of mush. To prove his good intentions, Alvarez attached to his response to the grand jury report several letters he wrote to elders of the legal and judicial profession asking for advice on what he should do. Unfortunately, the letters were written after Alvarez and his amorous associates got caught. The elders had the good sense to turn his queries aside. He complained in the letters that the rules for judges were just not clear. This one would be, if they would add it to the Code of Judicial Conduct: If you're gonna have sex with the help, turn in your black robes. It's plain. It's snappy. We plastic house plants get it. How hard could it be for his chief judgeship?
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