Updates aka As the Prison Turns

Inmates continue to die at an alarming rate, and when a guy went down recently it took a long time for the emergency team to show up, even though he was just 150 steps (I counted) away from their door.  When they carried him out, he was unconscious, and we still don’t know if he’s alive or not.  Even though we all live together 24-7, the guards will not give us updates on our friends.

Half-Baked is struggling at the moment.  He’s got “only” 3.5 years to go on a 10 year bid, which we call “heading downhill”, but he doesn’t see it that way.  He applied for but did not get a Presidential Commutation, after bragging that he was sure to get it, because his reason was fool proof:  “I’m sick of this place!”   Unlike the rest of us, apparently he hates being in prison.  I do feel sorry for him.  He needs mental health care.  He’s not dangerous, he just needs to be monitored, but the solution for him and so many like him seems to be – lock him up in jail.  I’ve been talking with him, treat him like the other guys, try to help him deflect the predators (guys who hustle him out of commissary items or get him to do their laundry, promising to pay him back later, which they never do).  In some ways, I feel sorrier for guys who feel the need to take advantage of those less fortunate than I do for Half-Baked.

Meanwhile, Ms. Wesley Snipes continues her reign of terror at the Rec Yard.  Not only can you not take a book outdoors to read, you can’t even have a Bible to study with friends on the Yard.  She has proclaimed that she doesn’t want anybody walking around “posterizing” (I think she means proselytizing), because it’s against policy (no one knows what policy she’s citing, as it was never a problem before).

Ms. Snipes has cracked down on my crochet class, too.  No longer can we make anything that might be considered an article of clothing, even if we plan to mail it home.  I understand the rationale that inmates might use homemade caps or whatever as a gang emblem, but not allowing us to make hats, scarves, mittens for our families on the outside?  So, of course, I asked her to explain, and she said, “If you don’t like it, I can cancel the whole program.”  A sweetheart, eh?

Finally, my early chow pass:  My mission has been temporarily side-tracked, because too many guys – some lacking what we might call the art of sublety – are also after the coveted Golden Ticket.  They don’t follow any of the generally successful strategies, such as finding a task that needs to be done at chow time, no these clowns just line up to go early with the guys who belong in the line.  Things blew up when 19 people showed up one day with the same excuse for eating early – claiming to be referees for basketball games.  The upshot?  Early chow has now been suspended for EVERYONE!

May I just say that yes, I have gotten the message!  Frankly, it had sunk in quite well after just one week away from my family, so can I go home now?  I just want to hug my kids, kiss my wife and take a nap on the couch.  That’s the general sentiment we all share.   We’re being warehoused, locked away longer than necessary in most cases.  I mean, very few people here are what you might call genuinely evil men.  Most are guys who just got off track and made mistakes.  First time offenders, for instance, who could have been given a much shorter sentence, maybe placed on strict supervision and warned not to make a mistake again.  I’d have been fine with that.  Instead I sit here, fighting all the negativity, the inertia, the feeling that society has just given up on us.  I know that every long day brings me closer to walking out that door.  I just pray every day that my wife, my kids, my siblings and parents will still be waiting for me.  That they don’t lose faith in me.  I get up every day ready to fight the good fight, but it is absolutely exhausting!