Hey, Kids--It’s Ding Dong Court! : Clark, Cochran & Co.: Cut out the whining and sniveling, and leave the periwinkle suits and short skirts at home.

Is it just me, or does Judge Lance A. Ito’s courtroom look less like a dignified venue for the pursuit of justice and more like a nursery school? From the preliminary hearings on, we’ve been treated to a display of squabbling, finger-pointing, provocation and pouting that any preschool teacher would recognize immediately--and refuse to tolerate.

Ito must feel a little like Miss Frances, the beloved mistress of “Ding Dong School.” Instead of viewing all the boys and girls through Miss Frances’ “magic mirror,” Ito allows us to view Ding Dong Court through the magic camera lens (even though he threatens to put a cap on it every other week).

The Simpson trial has been an illuminating and thoroughly dismaying spectacle. I always thought--silly me--that the courtroom was a place imbued with quiet dignity and that everyone who entered--plaintiff, defendant, spectator--would, under the weight of its august influence, calm down and adopt the proper demeanor. Instead, we see Ito tolerate behavior that Miss Frances would have nipped in the bud, pronto. Deputy Dist. Atty. Marcia Clark tattles and whines (“That’s not fair, Your Honor! They did it first!”) Deputy D.A. Christopher Darden gives the judge back-talk (“Yeah right, Judge.” “Do I have to sit and listen to this all day?”) in grumpy mutters that would send a preschooler to the corner for time-out and an attitude adjustment.

Chief defense attorney Johnnie Cochran chooses the Eddie Haskell “snow ‘em with sincerity” tack. Eddie, you’ll remember, was Beaver Cleaver’s tormentor--behind Beaver’s parents’ backs, of course. In front of them, he was slickly solicitous (“That’s a lovely dress, Mrs. Cleaver”). Cochran has stopped just short of complimenting the judge on his lovely robes, but “you’re absolutely right, Judge Ito” and similar strokes, pronounced in Cochran’s trademark soothing cadence, come pretty close to Eddie’s brown-nosing. It drives the prosecutors crazy, which is the whole point.

If there is a handbook that advises how one should dress, address the presiding judge and comport oneself on behalf of one’s client (whether that client be the people or one person), these folks haven’t read it. Still, if they won’t read Miss Manners, perhaps they could read Robert Fulghum’s book, “Everything I Really Need To Know I Learned in Kindergarten.” In it, they would receive simple, short instructions, the kind even lawyers can understand.

* Play fair. This means that the same rules apply to everyone. No shoving anybody off a seat during musical chairs. No filibustering to stall for time after your arguments have been presented.

* Share everything. It’s not nice to have something that other children want but do not have and taunt them with the fact that you possess this coveted thing. If you don’t have enough for everybody, don’t bring it out for everybody to see. This is as true of witness lists and DNA tests as it is of cupcakes.

* Take turns. Everybody gets to play, but everybody cannot play at the same time. This works with jump rope and with the presentation of objections or requests for reopening opening statements.

* If you make a mess, clean it up. This should apply as equally to allegations carelessly flung in open court as it does to spilt milk.

* Take a nap every day. This might have helped Deputy D.A. Bill Hodgman weather Cochran’s opening statement better.

Finally, although there doesn’t appear to be a dress code for courtrooms, perhaps there should be. Some schools forbid their students to wear T-shirts with logos, feeling that phrases like “Eat My Shorts” might distract from the learning process. Similarly, perhaps Cochran could be persuaded to leave his periwinkle suits home and defense attorney Robert Shapiro those garishly expensive ties. And Clark might cover her endless elegant legs more fully, and leave the angel pins at home.

Then we might feel as if we are really watching justice unfold rather than the whining, sniping and sniveling associated with persons recently sprung from baby carriages.

And, just like nursery school, there is a good kid in this courtroom: Defense attorney Carl Douglas has shown proper deference in dress and deportment. Carl: gold star. Johnnie, Bob, Chris, Marcia: Watch this man. You could learn something.