Yesterday I got a strange letter from a court in Michigan.

I was being assigned to defend the City of Albion. At least that’s what I learned when, finally, I got a court clerk on the phone.

Until that moment, it looked as if I must report to this court in order to be evaluated as part of the case of Rozdoske vs. Albion.

Evaluated? Say what? About what? Like, is someone trying to get me declared insane? Or does a stranger up north there, want to prove in court that I’m really from a different planet? Will I be forced to supply a DNA sample? That kind of evaluation? Prove that I’m human? “Evaluation” could mean various things.

I spent time yesterday afternoon wondering if I’d really have to drive two days up and two days back, to and from northwestern Michigan. Would I have to put the Chihuahuas in a kennel, drive long distances while using expensive gasoline, shell out money for meals and motel, pay filing fees, be stuck there for who knew how long as I tried to stave off some kind of evaluation? Gosh.

But no. It was an error. Quote the clerk, “Your number popped up and so, you got what was supposed to be a representation letter, but it contains some odd language, I guess.”

Me: “Number?”

Clerk: “You know. Your Bar Association number.”

Me: “I’m retired. Anyway, you now assign attorneys in civil cases?”

Clerk: “We don’t. That also was strange, another error.”

Me: “Does crazy stuff like this happen much?”

Clerk: “No. Yours is the first case within my memory.”

Me: “Lucky, I guess. I’m going to frame this letter and add it to my wall of diplomas, etc, in the upstairs bathroom.”

Clerk (feebly): “Haha.”