Number Nine . . . the countdown continues.

Merry Christmas, everyone. I hope that you all have had a wonderful holiday so far, with lots of love and family - whatever "family" happens to mean to you. I had a great time with my wife and kids this morning, and now we have all hit the traditional Christmas afternoon wall - a combination of post-Christmas hysteria relaxation, naptime, and caffeine/sugar crash. Everyone is asleep or reading quietly . . . except for me, that is. Your intrepid guide is hard at work here at YFTP . . . although the half-eaten pies on counter are leering at me menacingly. I wonder if there's any milk left?

And so, pies aside, this brings me to Number Nine on the countdown of the Top Ten best things about being a prosecutor.

NUMBER NINE

9. Telling People What You Do.

Okay, okay, I promise. I'm going to get to the big picture justice stuff really soon. And a lot of people in our business tell me that they avoid telling people what they do at all costs. But come on - you know what I mean here. You're at big dinner at a nice restaurant with a group of new friends. People are slowly getting to know each other, and are talking about what they do for a living.

Bob: Yeah, I'm a project manager for State Farm. I mainly focus on year-end projection evaluations, trying to combine best practices from past years into a quality-based interaction between . . . . .

Sarah: Well, I used to teach high school, but I've gone back to school to get my MBA. I'm hoping for an intership at a money market management firm here in town.

Richard: I'm an attorney at Howell and Gerszt. I do a combination of tax planning and bankruptcy law.

Tanya: I'm a dental hygeniest.

And so it goes, people talking about their jobs. Then someone asks you.

You: I'm a prosecutor in the Child Sex Crimes Unit of the DA's office. I mainly prosecute violent child molestors and online child predators. I tried 9 jury trials this year, and in all my team and I have put 14 criminal pedophiles in prison in the last 6 months.

Now, if you're really a child sex abuse prosecutor, and this is your answer, you already know that half the people at the table will recoil in horror at the nature of your work. The other half will be drawn to it like motorists looking at a ten-car pile-up on the Santa Anna. But all of them will ultimately want to know more. You will, of course, be very circumspect in the details of what you do. It's really almost never appropriate to blurt out "Yeah, my last case, I had this 7 year old boy who had been anally penetrated 15 times over a two year period by his Dad." But regardless of what else you say, you have the most fascinating job of anyone at the table.

And all of them will ask (or at least want to know) "How in the world do you handle seeing all that awful stuff day in and day out?" And you answer it kindly and truthfully: "It's hard work but it's the most rewarding work I could ever imagine doing."

And you are right.

Although you might not share details with most people at a dinner party, I still find a lot of relief in knowing that when I see my family (parents, siblings, etc.) on family get-togethers, the intense interest that they have in my work gives me a great chance to vent and decompress. I get to answer questions about my last trial, about the last "big" case I had that was in the newspaper, about how that certain victim that I became close friends with is doing - all that stuff. It's way easier to share that with those closest to you, and in addition to decompressing, this type of frank talk about this business of ours really allows me, for one, to step outside of the drudgery of my own professional world and see our work objectively again, for what it is - a vital public service on both a macro and micro level. And it is a great chance to allow myself to get pumped back up about my job.

So, that's number nine. Our staff is still working on the next several entries. Up next in a few days: Number Eight on our countdown of The Best Things About Being a Prosecutor.

Ta Ta for now, and please - try not to eat ALL of the leftover pie yourself. At least not all at once.

Ho Ho Ho,

Frank and the YFTP staff