Judge is a dread for Black

'I'd rather be lost in the jungle of Brazil Than to face the judge this morning the way he feels."

So sang the late philosopher Shorty Long in his song "Here Comes the Judge." Wanna bet that former House Speaker Jim Black will feel the same way if and when he steps in front of Judge James C. Dever III for sentencing?

Black, a Democrat, faces a long time in prison and a hefty fine after pleading guilty to taking money from chiropractors while scratching their backs with favorable legislation.

Judge Dever -- the "C" in his middle name stands for "Cafeteria" because he hands out time like it's lunch -- has already said he may want to give Black more time than the guidelines call for.

Here's a tough one for you: What do you do when you're 72, facing up to 10 years in prison and the judge is looking for ways to give you more time?

If you answered "Throw myself on the mercy of the court," you're an optimist. And a fool.

I'd throw myself on a fast boat headed for a tropical island with no extradition pact. There, I'd while away my remaining years eating pomegranates and watching island girls in thongs frolic.

Of course, before packing my Hawaiian Tropic and flip-flops, I'd do just what Black did last week: try to get a new judge, one who may not hate me.

Some of Republican Dever's contempt for Black may be a result of their squaring off when Dever was a lawyer opposing the General Assembly's Black-led redistricting plans.

Given their history, the chances of Dever turning down a chance to hammer Black are about the same as my chance of turning down a second helping of my aunt's macaroni and cheese: nonexistent.

Not that Dever doesn't have a nonpartisan reason to be angry. He could be peeved that Black would not only sell out the public, but do it so cheaply: $29,000 over 10 years is the graft equivalent of a Moon Pie and RC Cola and would barely pay for a Motel 6 timeshare in El Segundo.

For a decade, Black was the Big Kahuna of the House. In 2003, he secured his hold on the speakership with a Machiavellian move in which he paid Michael Decker to switch parties and vote for him.

Now facing a judge with a possible grudge, optometrist Black must be wishing he'd stayed out of politics -- or restrooms -- and confined his service to diagnosing pinkeye.

If you've ever stood before an ornery Your Honor, you can tell by that glint in the eye that you are being regarded with the same degree of warmth that a teen holds for a prom-night zit.

Thus, Black may have good reason for learning to speak Swahili. Dever gave Decker four years despite his cooperation with prosecutors who urged leniency. Former Lottery Commissioner Kevin Geddings didn't cooperate and got four years Monday, although prosecutors wanted more.

As Black quakes in his Florsheims in anticipation of Dever's presumed partisan heavy-handedness in sentencing him, so are prosecutors. They're wondering how can they persuade future defendants to testify against bigger fish if they can't assure them that a partisan hit man -- Republican or Democratic -- who has ascended to the bench isn't going to ladle out a heapin' helpin' of hard time anyway.