Remember “Der Kommissar”?

It is the catchy tune from the early 1980s sung by Falco (the original artist who took it to #1 in Europe) and After The Fire (the English cover that ranked #5 in the U.S.). I’ve never really understood what the song is about, but it has a cool sound and lots of mayhem in the background.  So, what is “der kommissar”? It is the title of “commissioner” of police, or simply police chief. Why so many titles for authorities in the U.S.?

The titles we give folks, elected or not, varies widely. Mostly, the titles of government officials come from the homeland of the people who predominantly populated an area during the assimilation of that area into the fledgling system of government.  Kommissar, or commissioner, is a Northern European word, with a strong Welsh origin. Areas that have a strong Welsh, English, or German influence tend to use commissioner. The word “chief” is derived from the Middle French word “chef,” meaning leader. Thus, areas that have stronger French or Southern European populations tend to go with police chief.

Georgia actually has a 48-page manual on titles and protocol called, amazingly, Georgia Protocol Guide. It is really fascinating reading. For instance, “The Honorable” in front of an elected person’s name was, I always thought, appropriate, but as usual, I am wrong. The proper title for an elected person is usually the office they hold, like “District Attorney Moe Howard.” There are so many titles for folks that, for me, it’s impossible to keep track of them all. But looking up the official title doesn’t often occur to me.

For instance, you are hosting President Dolly Parton at a function and you have three governors attend. In what order do you introduce the governors? Surely the “home” governor goes first, right? Nope. Governors are introduced based on the order of the state’s admission to the union. So, Georgia’s governor is introduced when? Georgia was the fourth state admitted to the union.

When meeting a dignitary, dress should be appropriate. There is business casual and business attire. Most of us know what that means. But not everyone. One time I had a State witness who was in love with the defendant. I told her to dress for court like she was going to a funeral. She showed up looking like she was going clubbing, probably ending up at a gentlemen’s club. She didn’t finish testifying at the end of the day, so Judge Lumsden called me and the defense attorney to the bench. “I trust the State will tell the witness to dress appropriately tomorrow!” said her Honor. I replied, “I think she looks spectacular!!” Judge Lumsden was not amused.

One last title story. When I was magistrate, I ended up using a robe because some people thought I was too young to be a judge. One day I came into the courtroom and a defendant stood up, bowed three times and said, “Good morning your most worshipful High Holiness!” I asked if he was still drunk, and the jailer said yes, so his hearing was held the next day. No one else ever deigned it necessary to call me that.

Kelly Burke, master attorney, former district attorney and magistrate judge, is engaged in private practice. He writes about the law, rock’n’roll and politics or anything that strikes him. These articles are not designed to give legal advice, but are designed to inform the public about how the law affects their daily lives. Contact Kelly at kelly@burkelasseterllc.com to comment on this article or suggest articles that you’d like to see and visit his website www.kellyrburke.com to view prior columns.