Courting Humor : Tales of ‘Zebra 57’: Insider Shares the Funny Side of Courtroom Drama : TRACEY KAPLAN

There’s nothing funny about petty theft, trespassing and vandalism. Unless, of course, you have been a Municipal Court reporter for 26 years, as has Terry Mason.

Comic relief becomes “absolutely essential” to combat the sadness and depression that result from recording endless tales of human folly, Mason said. Years ago, she began collecting humorous excerpts, primarily from San Fernando and Van Nuys court transcripts.

Recently, Mason spent $15,000 to publish her collection, “Zebra 57 and Other Courtroom Tales,” because she wanted to share the witticisms, malapropisms and slips of the tongue with others.

“I wanted people, especially jurors, to know that not everything that goes on in the courts is serious,” said Mason, 50, whose job requires her to take down everything that transpires in the courtroom. “The lighter side becomes important when you work with really depressing things.”

The title comes from a policeman’s response to an attorney’s inquiry. “What were your duties that day?” the lawyer asks. “Assigned to training an officer on a Zebra 57,” the officer says, referring to the narcotics unit’s car, known in police shorthand as a zebra.

“I could just picture two policemen sitting on a Zebra in the middle of the street,” Mason said. “It may not be funny to anyone else, but I laughed.”

Mason, known in the courts for her distinctive chuckle, remains ebullient despite the book’s slow sales. So far, only about 600 of the 5,000 books she paid to have printed in January have been sold. At $2.95 per copy wholesale and $4.95 retail, the book is available in courthouse cafeterias, the gift shop at the Los Angeles Police Academy and from Mason herself.

“I haven’t had time to distribute it because I’ve been so busy working overtime to pay for the book,” said Mason, who earns about $48,000 a year, plus $10,000 annually for transcribing preliminary hearing records. “Isn’t that funny?”

Mason always sees the positive side of things, said Van Nuys Municipal Judge Kenneth Lee Chotiner, who has worked with her for six years. “I’ve never seen her downcast,” he said. “From the minute I walk into the courtroom, I can hear her laugh.”

Although court decorum is generally formal, halls of justice should not be gloomy places, Chotiner said.

“I deliberately use humor to keep things relaxed,” he said. “Otherwise, I find tempers can start to flare, the jury gets tense and attorneys are at each other’s throats.”

Most humor in the courts arises spontaneously, Mason said. Under the pressure of cross-examination, witnesses often make witty remarks. In one instance recounted in the book, an exasperated witness is asked by the defense attorney when he “got separated” from his wife. The answer: “When she left.”

Witnesses occasionally turn nouns into verbs and create their own colorful words, Mason said. “I proned him out on the street,” said one, meaning he had the defendant lie down in the street with his face down and arms out. Others heard “scrutchlings” and “chinglings of keys” while others observed defendants “snorking” unknown drugs.

Some attorneys are known for their malapropisms. In one case, San Fernando Deputy Public Defender Gerald Richardson described a defendant as wearing a blue shirt, black cap and “tacky pants.”

“I meant khaki, but I got going so fast,” Richardson said.

The pressure of crowded court dockets often leads to such gaffes, Mason said. Originally, she planned to name the book “Speech Under Fire” because so many attorneys seem to lose their trains of thought while questioning witnesses.

In one classic example, the attorney refers to a victim found inside a car. “What about the man in the car?” he asked. “He was dead,” the witness said. “Did he stay in the car?” the attorney asked. “Yes, sir,” the witness said.

Sometimes what transpires in a court is stranger than fiction. There was the married couple who lived in separate apartments because their cats fought, the fellow who claimed his parents named him “A Growing Boy” and the man who was stabbed 11 times before he got angry at his assailant.

But Mason said the most unusual remarks she heard were uttered by a defendant when he entered his plea: “I have no excuse for my immature actions. I’m guilty.”

‘ZEBRA 57’ EXCERPTS

Time Warp

Court: You’re ordered to pay the fine forthwith.

Defendant: Can I pay it now?

Catty Couple

Q: Do you live there with your wife?

A: No. I live upstairs. My wife lives downstairs.

Q: In what apartment do you live?

A: 514.

Q: What apartment does your wife live in?

A: 417.

Q: Is there a reason why you and your wife live in separate apartments?

A: Yes. Because we have three cats, and one cat don’t like the other one, so we had to move. One cat chased the other one across the bed at night.

Driving Tips

Court: Speeding. How do you plead?

Defendant: Guilty. Can I go to traffic school?

Court: No. Just lift your foot, the car slows down.

Understated, Your Honor

Q: When did you get separated from your wife?

A: When she left.

Shooting From the Hip

Q: The man had a gun in his waistband?

A: Yes.

Q: Was this a rifle or a handgun?

The Ides of November

Q: The conversation with Mr. P about narcotics the last time you saw him.

A: Over in the school, yes.

Q: And that was Nov. 15?

A: No, I would say mid-November.

Homesick

A: I told him . . . he might be an accessory to murder and I was going to advise him of his constitutional rights, that I was going to ask him incriminating statements.

Q: What did he say?

A: He said, “Can I go home?”

Did You Si That?

Court: Senor Rodriguez, porque you no come-o to court-o last week-o?