From the FRYE pan into the FYRE? Part I

Next month, two motions filed by the defense will be heard by Judge Perry. Because they are very important Frye issues, and of extreme importance to the defense, this post will focus on the motion about chloroform evidence. It will be in two parts.

PART I - The Frye Pan

Casey’s defense recently filed two Frye motions. The date reflects when they were filed with the Clerk of Courts. Both are stamped 12/30/2010.

MOTION TO EXCLUDE UNRELIABLE EVIDENCE PURSUANT TO FRYE, OR IN THE ALTERNATIVE, MOTION IN LIMINE TO EXCLUDE (CHLOROFORM)

and

MOTION TO EXCLUDE UNRELIABLE EVIDENCE (Plant or root growth evidence)

The state filed motions to strike, but today, I will just focus on the issue over chloroform. The other motions (defense and state) will come later, because in this particular one, there is much to discern, including a few errors. I will get to them, but first of all, what, exactly, is a Frye motion/hearing? Frye motions are generally held in limine, which means they are made before a trial starts. The judge then decides whether certain evidence may or may not be introduced to the jury. The Frye standard is a test to determine the admissibility of scientific evidence in legal proceedings. This standard comes from the case Frye v. United States (293 F. 1013 (DC Cir 1923) District of Columbia Circuit Court in 1923. Frye v. U.S. was a groundbreaking case that argued the admissibility of polygraph tests as evidence in a trial. Today, it’s designed to prevent both sides from unfairly exploiting expert testimony. Its intent is to assure that expert evidence is reliable.

In its motion, the defense cites Florida Statutes 90.401, 90.402 and 90.403, Amendments 5 and 14 of the U.S. Constitution, and Article 1, Section 9 of the Florida Constitution. Let’s take a look:

• 90.401 Definition of relevant evidence. — Relevant evidence is evidence tending to prove or disprove a material fact.
• 90.402  Admissibility of relevant evidence. — All relevant evidence is admissible, except as provided by law.
• 90.403  Exclusion on grounds of prejudice or confusion. — Relevant evidence is inadmissible if its probative value is substantially outweighed by the danger of unfair prejudice, confusion of issues, misleading the jury, or needless presentation of cumulative evidence. This section shall not be construed to mean that evidence of the existence of available third-party benefits is inadmissible.
• Amendment V — No person shall be held to answer for a capital, or otherwise infamous crime, unless on a presentment or indictment of a grand jury, except in cases arising in the land or naval forces, or in the militia, when in actual service in time of war or public danger; nor shall any person be subject for the same offense to be twice put in jeopardy of life or limb; nor shall be compelled in any criminal case to be a witness against himself, nor be deprived of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor shall private property be taken for public use, without just compensation.
• Amendment XIV — All persons born or naturalized in the United States, and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the United States and of the state wherein they reside. No state shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall any state deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.
• Article 1, Section 9 — Due process.—No person shall be deprived of life, liberty or property without due process of law, or be twice put in jeopardy for the same offense, or be compelled in any criminal matter to be a witness against oneself.

The first two Florida Statutes, I would imagine, were cited by the defense for the purpose of propping up the third, which questions the admissibility of evidence that may prejudice or confuse the jury. In the case of this motion, it’s chloroform evidence found in the trunk of Casey’s car the defense is questioning, specifically carpet and air samples.

After the preliminary introduction of the motion, the defense moved on to FACTS about the case:

FACTS

1. Miss Anthony is charged with First Degree Murder. The State of Florida has announced it’s [sic] intent to seek the ultimate penalty of death.
2. The Oak Ridge National Laboratory conducted tests on carpet samples and air samples taken from a vehicle (Pontiac Sunfire) driven by Miss Anthony at or near the time of the disappearance of her daughter Caylee Anthony.
3. Dr. Arvad Vass reported in his preliminary and final reports that there were unusually high levels of chloroform found on the carpet samples taken from the Pontiac Sunfire.
4. Dr. Vass additionally states that the levels of chloroform are much higher than normally found in decompositional events.
5. This information prompted investigators to search the Anthony family computer for searches of chloroform, which yielded positive results for “chloroform” and “how to make chloroform.” The hysteria begins.

Before I delve too deeply into the motion, remember the defense cited the above as FACTS, not assumptions or speculations made by Oak Ridge National Laboratory. Where it completely strayed from the truth is the final statement of fact, “The hysteria begins.” From there, it turned into a giant smoke screen. The defense went into, well, a defense mode, which is what is expected.

FACTS PART II: UNCOVERING THE FRAUD

In FACTS PART II: UNCOVERING THE FRAUD, law enforcement was accused of intentionally leaking information to the local and national media prior to “any official reports through the natural course of discovery.” I will acknowledge learning of the death smell from the news sometime in August of 2008, so there may be some merit to this particular aspect of the complaint. However, this information would have been released anyway, so it was not, by any means, an attempt to “either satisfy their own vanity or poison any potential jury pool” as the defense stated. Today, it’s two-and-a-half years later, and a fair jury will be seated in May come hell or high water.

What puzzles me at this point of the motion is how the defense contradicts itself. In FACTS PART II, they wrote that they traveled to Tennessee and took depositions from Dr. Arpad Vass and Dr. Marcus Wise. Both testified that the tests on the carpet sample were “qualitative” and not “quantitative.” One way to simplify this is to say it’s the motion in the ocean, not the size of the ship; but at the same time, no one is going to sail around the world in a canoe. That’s not to say flat out that the SS Casey is sinking, but it’s definitely listing. The smokesreen in this example comes from the statements that, “It should be noted that the Oak Ridge National Laboratory also took carpet samples from two Pontiac Sunfires… [and] one of the sample cars they tested ALSO had chloroform in the sample,” and “Dr. Vass, who is the author of the ORNL report is NOT a forensic chemist.” In my opinion, one not need be a forensic chemist to analyze chemical breakdowns. Dr. Vass could readily make analytical conclusions from tests of all kinds, and my guess would be that plenty of them have nothing to do with crime. Industrial spies, for example, have been tackling the secret recipe of KFC chicken and McDonald’s Special Sauce for years and years. That’s not forensics, but it takes real life chemists to break into the “Da Vinci Codes” of restaurant chain trade secrets. Who knows, maybe Dr. Vass could find out what’s really in Taco Bell’s beef. Now, that’s something that matters. Of course, it’s a civil matter, not criminal.

In the motion, the defense noted that the FBI Chemistry Unit in Quantico, Virginia, had tested four samples of the carpet and two of the four were “consistent with chloroform.” Dr. Michael Richenbach, Ph.D, told the defense during his deposition that “consistent with” means that the presumptive test results were positive, but the conclusive tests were not. Aside from all of the scientific mumbo jumbo, of which I will spare you the boredom, the point being made by the defense is, in a nutshell, that the results from ORNL and the FBI were different. Therefore, the results should be tossed out. In my opinion, the most consistent point to be made about this case to date has been the consistency of the two presiding judges, and ultimately, Judge Perry will leave it up to both sides to argue and let the jury take it from there. Laws around the country not only protect cross examinations, they encourage them, and this case is no different. The defense will have ample opportunity to shred the state’s evidence to pieces.

Here’s another interesting smokescreen, but I do not think the State, nor the judge, will fall for it. The motion makes it clear that “the other items tested by the FBI for chloroform (baby doll, steering wheel cover, and child car seat) all yielded negative results.” True, but the cab of Casey’s vehicle was separated from the trunk by a back seat. How much seepage should there have been? Police officers have been trained for years to detect the odor of marijuana in a car, and I’m talking about fresh, not smoked. It does have a pungent odor unlike anything else. While standing by the driver’s door, window down, would the officer smell it if it was tucked away in the trunk? No, probably not, but the nervousness of the occupants would be a sure sign that something’s not right. How much chloroform would it take to be overwhelming? I mean, it’s not even close to the smell of decomposition. Talk about pungent odors.

COMPUTER SEARCHES

Law enforcement ascertained that someone inside of the Anthony home searched for chloroform and chloroform recipes three months prior to Caylee’s disappearance. This is why it’s so important for the defense to crush this evidence, along with the air and carpet samples. This is highly incriminating. The defense wrote:

• Any forensic computer examiner including the ones in this case (Sandra Cawn and Kevin Stenger) will testify that you can never determine who ran what searches on a computer, especially when the computer is NOT password protected.

Okay, in and of itself, that may be true, but more about that in a couple of seconds. Incidentally, Cawn and Stenger work for OCSO and I think they know a thing or two about  computer forensics.

• The computer in question was in a “guest bedroom” and all family members not only had access to the computer, but also testified that they used the computer as well as guests who visited their home.
• Law enforcement cannot ascertain whether Miss Anthony was even home at the time the searches [were] run much less on the computer.

Now, had Judge Perry been born in the 19th century, the defense might be able to pull the wool over his eyes, but he wasn’t; nor was he born yesterday. Yes, of course the computer could have been accessed by anyone, but it is inside the Anthony home, and it’s a desktop, not a portable laptop, which could be moved around the house. By utilizing something simple, like a process of elimination, investigators can sift through a myriad of things, including time sheets. March 21, 2008, was a Friday - a work day. What time of day did the searches occur? I’ll bet you OCSO knows. If Cindy, George and Lee were not inside the house, it incriminates Casey, and with no other source, like a friend who has yet to come forward, her ship is really listing.

Here’s something the defense wrote that struck me as peculiar:

• The Oak Ridge National Laboratories (Some reports erroneously called them “body farm” perhaps for more shock appeal) reported unusually high amounts of chloroform in the trunk of Casey Anthony’s car.

What I would like to do is take to task the remark about erroneously calling ORNL a Body Farm for more shock appeal. In my opinion, the defense is trying to directly infer that the term Body Farm was something new and never used before. I assure you, that is not the truth. I can tell you I heard about the Body Farm long before I heard about the Anthony case and, as a matter of fact, thanks to my Gainesville friend, nika1, I am in the possession of a book titled, BEYOND THE BODY FARM, written by Dr. Bill Bass and Jon Jefferson. So what, you say? Yes, so what. The book was published in 2007, a year before Casey’s defense knew who she was. Jefferson & Bass (as Jefferson Bass) have written four novels about the Body Farm. The first one, Carved in Bone, was released in January 2006. In 2003, Bass & Jefferson released their first scientific book about it, Death’s Acre. To go further back in time, crime writer Patricia Cornwell published The Body Farm in 1994. She drew her inspiration from Dr. Bass and his work. As a matter of fact, he is recognized as the father of the Body Farm, long before Jose Baez was practicing law.

Why did I title this post From the Frye pan into the Fyre, you ask? Even the prosecution misspells…

MOTION TO STRIKE DEFENDANT’S MOTION TO EXCLUDE UNRELIABLE EVIDENCE PURSUANT TO FYRE (CHLOROFORM)

In the second part of this article about chloroform evidence admission, I will delve into the scientific and legal aspects:

PART II - The FYRE

This information prompted investigators to search the Anthony family computer [duh?] for searches of chloroform, which yielded positive results for “chloroform” and “how to make chloroform.” The hysteria begins.

Well worth losing sleep over

FRIDAY

Last Friday evening, it rained. Of course, living in Florida, it can storm at a moment’s notice, bringing with it the wrath of rumbling thunder and lightning. Anyone who reads my blog understands that I take an Internet time out from 7:00 pm to 7:30 pm Monday through Friday to watch Jeopardy. Last Friday was no different until, suddenly, in the middle of the Double Jeopardy round and without warning, an intensely brilliant white light burst through the living room window, accompanied by an immediate explosion of sound, louder than anything I’d heard before. CRACK! In that split second, it was gone, and so was our electricity. Within minutes, power returned, but no cable. After the box rebooted, the living room TV cranked back up, but my show was over. Darn, I missed Final Jeopardy.

As sudden as the surge was, I quickly jumped to my feet to peer out the front window because I smelled electricity in the air. Sure enough, a wire was down in the front yard and it was hissing and spitting and reeling like a lithe snake in the dead of night, emitting an eerie orange glow that pierced the night air and glistened on the drops of rain that continued to fall. I walked to the phone to call 911, but there was no dial tone. We had switched to all cable only months earlier, so the phone and Internet were out-of-order. How funny, I thought, because the living room TV was working fine. I took out my cell phone and called to report the incident. Then, I called the cable company and the tech said the modem box that controls the phone and Internet was sending him no signal. Modem fried. The soonest anyone could come would be next Tuesday. To someone with a blog, that’s like… forever! Oh well, back to the matter at hand. I knew I would have the Internet the next day - for a few hours, at least.

Within minutes, the fire company arrived. There was no way I was going to set foot out there and risk a deathly jolt from the wet ground that lay ahead. As the fire/emergency crew assessed the situation, the power went off and off it stayed. The hissing line was dead in the water. Situation under control.

One of the things we know from living in the lightning capital of the world is to be ready, so a battery operated camping light alloted enough brightness for us to move around inside the house. Without power, the air conditioning wasn’t working, either, and it didn’t take long to warm up. After about 45 minutes, I decided to take a walk outside and scope the place out. I walked over to the power company truck and asked the driver when he expected it to come back on. Of course, he could only guess. He was awaiting another truck bringing someone to do the work. His job was to take a look and report. That’s after 27 years with the utility, he said. No more fixing lines. The younger ones do that now. One neighborhood child came by and asked the same question, but by that time we had already moved on to other topics. There was nothing any of us could do but wait. The driver and I talked for about an hour, until it was time for me to take my nightly insulin shot. He told me about some of his experiences with the company and how cutbacks have really streamlined things, but hadn’t made things better. It was more work, in other words, but with that came more hours and more pay. Not so bad, then. Not bad at all for a man in his fifties. I told him I write about the Anthony case. Interestingly, he was quite fascinated by it and he began asking questions like if she did it. He said his best friend’s son went to high school with her.

Someone drove by and stopped to ask what happened. He said he was heading up to the bar on the corner, G’s Lounge. The utility guy said, good luck, the power’s out there, too. He said that under normal conditions, it takes three surges to the substation to shut power off. In this particular case, after the third time, power remained on and he had to manually turn it off. I guess it fused something together. This took out a good part of the neighborhood. I asked him how many volts were in that downed wire.

“7200,” he responded.

Wow, that’s a lot of juice. We turned back to the Anthony case. I said that had I been many years younger and met her in a bar, I’d find her quite attractive, which is what your friend’s son must have thought. Of course, this would mean PRIOR to any murder. He agreed, but then he told me he asked the son if he had ever hit on her. Did he ever do anything with her? No, the son said. “She was passed around too much in high school. Everyone had her.”

That was an interesting observation and one that I wouldn’t ordinarily expect, but there are many surprises when it comes to this case. Of course, in a court of law, that would be hearsay and therefore, inadmissible, so take it the way you want, but it was a statement just the same.  Had it not been for the strike that burned a hole in the ground, I wouldn’t have known.

After a good conversation about other things, it was time to go inside. I wished him well and said good night. I went into the house and tried to sleep, but only lightly dozed until, just after midnight, the power returned and the cool, dry blast of the air conditioner fanned across my hot skin. Relief! Good, because I had a football game to go to and I wanted to be as refreshed as possible. Despite the lack of sleep, I woke up feeling fine. There was a big day ahead!

SATURDAY

Weeks earlier, I had published a 2-part series that began with Gainesville serial killer Danny Rolling, When karma strikes twice, and finished with John Huggins, Slowly, the wiles of justice churn. In the Huggins case, Jeff Ashton was one of the prosecutors and Chief Judge Belvin Perry presided. Of course, people like to comment and that’s where a lot of thought goes on. It brings my blog to life! During those ensuing comments, a dear reader and contributor, Nika1, offered to take me to a football game, the one against Kentucky, to be precise, and I took her up on that offer. She lives in Gainesville and told me about the wall in memory of those slain by Rolling in 1990.

In back-and-forth e-mails to-and-from my now defunct account, we set the trip up and finished it with a phone call. I didn’t want to drive my car that distance. She suggested taking the Red Coach. The Red Coach? I had never heard of it, but I took a good look. How could I not? It’s first-class all the way, with wide leather seats that fold down almost into a bed. There’s a movie, and wi-fi, to boot. The best part? It’s only $15 each way. Heck, it would probably cost me $20 in gas anyway. All I had to do was drive down to the airport and park. For free.

While waiting to board, riders were dropped off from Miami. I spoke to one gentleman from Ocala who knows the Brantley family, football players all. John Brantley IV is the Gator quarterback. It was nice to learn a little more background before the game.

Off we went! I brought my computer along to catch up on e-mails and comments, but alas, the wi-fi was not working. I tried to sleep a little, but Nancy Drew was blaring from the speaker above me. Our movie du jour.

When the bus arrived in Gainesville, Nika1 was waiting. I knew, as soon as I saw her, that she was my blogging friend and not there for anyone else. I got out and we lightly embraced. Aaaah, such a warm and friendly greeting! We walked over to her vehicle and stowed my belongings. I must tell you that sitting on the front passenger seat were a Gator t-shirt and hat, both brand new. Without hesitation, I took my shirt off in the parking lot to the delight of no one, but I was in Gator country, by golly, and I’m a Gator.

Off we went!

People were everywhere, all dressed in orange and blue, the university’s colors. Young, old, and everything in between, wore nothing else. We parked and took a walk to one of the book stores. The aromas of tailgating barbecues wafted in the air. The book store was a sort of mall with two food courts. We were hungry and it was time to eat. The bus left at 12:30 and arrived just before 3:00. The game wasn’t set to begin until 7:00, so there was plenty of time to kill. I’ll tell you, by the time the day was over, we must have walked 10 miles, but it did me a lot of good. As we milled around the campus, which is vast, she pointed out things of importance.

Tim Tebow is one classy act. That’s all I need to say about him. He’s above the rest, but he’d never admit it. Inside this building sits the NCAA Championship trophy. I saw it through a window. Game day, it’s locked up tight. Too many people.

There were plenty of sites to see and Nika1 was thrilled to show me everything. I had been to a number of games in the past, but not for years, and it was only to go up, see the game, and return home. This was a much more personal look, and I was eager to see as much as I could.

Soon, it would be time for the Gator Walk, where the football players, coaches and trainers walk down the street and into the massive stadium. It’s almost like a parade.

Cheerleaders chanted, to the excitement of the awaiting crowd…

One more…

Oh, heck… just one more…

It was at this time I turned to Nika1 and told her I will now admit I’m getting old. You see, each one of those girls looked, to me, to be no more than high school age. I couldn’t look at them as anything more than children. Time to move on…

The Gator Walk was about to begin!

We stood alongside a Gainesville police officer. He was one of the friendliest guys you’d ever want to meet. He said the motorcycle cop seen here, front and left, was hit by a car last year at a game and broke his left arm. I remember reading about it in the Sentinel or online. Nika1 had told me about how security was so beefed up for the game two weeks earlier against USF. The crazy preacher was going to burn Qurans and the stadium was an easy terrorist target. Fortunately, the threat abated and nothing happened, but 400 extra FBI and other federal/state officers were on hand. Good thing, too, because she said it was so brutally hot, people were dropping like flies. The extra security came to the rescue. She asked our friendly officer how he survived the heat. He said he prepares himself the night before by drinking lots of pickle juice. Pickle juice?!Yes, he learned it years ago as a boy growing up on a Gainesville area farm. Fascinating!

Along came the entourage…

Here they come! Nika1 told me head coach Urban Meyer makes his players wear a clean shirt and tie to the game. It instills discipline and shows respect.

If you look to your right in the above picture, you’ll spot Urban, also sporting a tie.

We still had over an hour to go before the doors opened, but we made the best of our time. There was plenty to do, believe me. A lot of vendors are set up all around the stadium. One is the insurance company, Nationwide, handing out small towels to dip in a trough filled with ice and water. You dab your hot face and neck to help stay cool. Fortunately, this was a night game and it wasn’t as hot as a day game.

Finally, we were let in. When I arrived at the bus station and we drove away, I noticed her drawl, but wasn’t completely sure where she was from. Why, right here in Gainesville, born and raised. Aha! At the game, she said she has been a season ticket holder for 36 years. That’s a dedicated Gator! She knew the people who sat around us, obviously, and before the game began, her niece and nephew arrived with their young daughter. They were just as welcoming.

Here’s the view from where we sat. Trust me, there’s no such thing as a bad seat and these were just perfect.

The game was going to begin soon and I came to watch. There’s a lot of history in The Swamp.

I took no pictures of the game. I wanted to see everything with my eyes, not through a camera lens.

It was a thrilling game. The Gators scored first and went on to win 48-14. The announced crowd was over 90,000 people. I had a wonderful and memorable trip, but there was one sad note. When the third quarter ends, it’s tradition to stand and sing together, We are the Boys from Old Florida. It’s sort of like the seventh-inning stretch, only college football. Then, the final quarter began. Within a minute after the song ended and play began, someone collapsed about 4 or 5 rows above and to the left of us. All I could see was someone frantically performing CPR on a person laid out on the bench. I never did see the gentleman. Police officers situated in close proximity jumped into action. Within minutes, a uniformed paramedic arrived and he was taken out. Everyone kept turning to look at the game and what was going on with him. When one officer passed by me, I asked how things had gone. Not so well, he answered. I asked him how old the guy was. He said very old. The officer was probably in his late 30s. When it was quite obvious the Gators had a lock on the game, Nika1 said we should probably leave before the crowd. I agreed, but on the way out, I stopped and asked another officer. I was concerned about the poor man. This officer was about my age. How old was the guy, I asked him. Oh, in his late 50s, early 60s. I guess age is relative depending on who you ask. He said it didn’t look good. The man was not breathing and his heart had stopped.

I want to take a moment to remember Jerry Lee McGriff, of Starke. A true-blue Gator fan, he died watching his beloved team. My sympathies go out to his family and friends. You can read more here.

SOUTHERN HOSPITALITY

When Nika1 and I were enjoying our pre-game lunch together - a lunch, I might add, she refused to let me buy - I mentioned that she must be a very trusting soul. Here I was, a virtual stranger, and she was ready and ever so willing to open her arms in friendship. She even offered me a place to sleep for a few hours until the bus returned at 3:30 am to take me home. She admitted that she is a very trusting person and always has been, but she also said she pretty much knew what sort of character I was from my writing. That’s a nice thing to know, that people trust me. I am harmless, after all, but it goes deeper than that. While Gainesville is a University city with a college, small-town feel, Nika1 exuded friendship and I was welcomed from the moment I stepped off that bus until I left to return to Orlando.

She lives in a very rural town south of Gainesville, and not far from Cross Creek, home of Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings. No? The name doesn’t ring a bell? Yes, it does. She was an author who won a Pulitzer for writing a book, The Yearling. Perhaps, you’ve heard of it.

There’s something inherently romantic about the deep south. That’s why my best friend Stewart and I like to take road trips. Over the many years of living in Florida, I’ve grown to love and admire the pockets of land still left that are truly remnants of Old Florida. Where Nika1 lives is just such a place. It’s something you can’t really explain. Although her house was built in the late 1800s, it’s more of a feeling and you know it when you’re there. It is a step back into a time when post cards and billboards didn’t exist. No roadside attractions. Citrus groves and cattle ranches abounded and you kicked your feet up on the front porch of your homestead at the end of a long day. Along with that is the southern hospitality we’ve all heard about. Nika1 is the embodiment of that, pure and simple. Not only did I have a bed to put my weary feet and head on, she had two books for me to take home, BEYOND THE BODY FARM and DEATH’S ACRE, both written by Dr. Bill Bass and Jon Jefferson. Tucked into one of those books were two tickets to the Gator’s homecoming game against Mississippi State, a game she can’t attend.

When I awoke after a couple of hours sleep, freshly brewed coffee awaited me, along with two breakfast sausage crescents, a banana, an orange juice and a bottle of water for the ride back.

While sitting at the bus stop in the dead of morning, we talked once more about the Rolling murders. She has a real sense of history. She said that the poor girl whose head was separated and posed on a bookshelf was an intern with the Gainesville police department. It was so sickening, seven officers left their jobs after they saw her. You may find it to be an odd thing to discuss, but at just after 3:00 am sitting in a parking lot, you keep your doors locked. So does the whole town because of people like him.

Yup, life is a lot simpler in the land where Nika1 lives. It’s too bad, but even there, she’s got to lock her doors at night.

I rolled into town about a quarter to six. I had practically missed a whole night of sleep, but it was well, well worth it. What better way to lose sleep than over a Gator game spent with a lovely person, surrounded by a cast of thousands? Nika1? I may have just met you, but I feel like we’ve known each other for years.

Tonight, the Gators face #1 ranked Alabama. Good thing it’s a home game, but still, this one scares me. Thank you, Nika1, for everything. Something tells me I know exactly where you are right now, and your TV is already warmed up and ready to go.