One Way to Productively Spend a Day in Prison

 

This is by far the most secure Low Security federal prison in the country. These guys love locking doors. You’d think they must have attended a Compulsive Door Lockers Anonymous group and recruited guards there. The sound of that lock clicking really starts to get to you. I have nightmares of something jumping off while I’m in the shower and the door getting locked, so I’m stuck in a shower cubicle you can barely squeeze into for God knows how long. At least I’d be clean!

 

The BOP’s approach to Covid continues to baffle us all.  We’re two to a cell, at maximum capacity, but they make a half-hearted stab at socially distancing us at lunch, rec, etc. Like those of you in the world, we are simply exhausted by it all. It’s difficult to look back and comprehend what’s transpired over the past year. At least the days keep ticking off, each day one step closer to home.  I have no idea what kind of shape the world will be in when I join you out there. All I know is this message from a guy who recently got out.  He wrote:  “Imagine the worst day when you get home – no job, no money, PO on your case, dog got hit by a car, truck in the shop, like that. You don’t know what to do, so maybe you just go sit outside and enjoy the sunshine. Instantly, this worst day you can imagine is 1,000 times better than your best day in prison.”

 

Here’s one way to productively mark time until that glorious “worst” day. I just finished my sixth project as a self-appointed Locker Engineer.  First you have to understand that everything we own – our books, our grooming stuff, our clothes, our bowls, everything – has to fit in this 3-foot by 2-foot by 1.5 foot locker, that’s divided vertically down the middle with shelves on one side and a void on the other where nothing will go. My project? McGivering shelves for that blank side of the locker.

 

Here’s my solution. You can try it at home, a little pandemic fun, if you will.

 

Let’s start by collecting materials:  (1) one flexible rubber (stab-proof) pen (if not available, because, well, you aren’t in prison, any small flexible cylindrical piece of rubber will do); (2) 10-15 to go sporks/spoons in their clear plastic wrapper; (3) sturdy cardboard box at least 11x16 inches; (4) scissors; and (5) ruler.

 

Step One:  Creation of homemade wire.  Open all the utensils, careful not to mangle the wrapper (that’s what we’re using here). Discard the utensil, its accompanying world’s least absorbent napkin, and the salt pack (unless you’re working on some good hypertension for your Compassionate Release Plan).

 

Step Two:  Carefully tear each wrapper into 2-3 vertical strips.

 

Step Three: Now for the magic! Twirl each length of wrapper until the entire length is twisted into a string, then (careful not to let it untwist), with a nice even steady pull, stretch, and abra-cadabra, you now have what looks and feels like high-tensile strength fishing line!

 

Step Four:  Repeat with all the other wrappers, then tie them together lengthwise into one long line with square knots, and you have a sizable length of fishing line.

 

Step Five:  Create the Support Structure. Remove the ink cartridge from the flexi-pen (kind of like the ink tube in cheap Bic pens) and cut the clear rubber cylinder into 3/8” sections. To make the anchors strong, fold a single piece of your fishing line in half and slide it through the rubber tube. Tie the ends of the fishing line together. Now run a second rubber piece through the loop you’ve just made, so you end up with a T-shaped anchor with a loop (see illustration below).

 

 

 

Step Six:  Fit the horizontal part of the T into one of the holes in the locker (where shelves would ordinarily go) and you’ve got a pretty sturdy anchor in place. Repeat in other holes around the corners of the locker.

 

Step Seven:  Run your length of fishing line from one anchor loop to another, working diagonally, to create a spider’s web across the opening, creating an under structure for your eventual shelf.

 

Step Eight:  Cut out a square of cardboard that will fit the frame, lay it on top of the spider’s web you’ve formed, and Voila! A sturdy shelf! You’d be amazed at how strong it is.

 

Step Nine:  Repeat to make two more shelves and you now have six equally-sized cubbies in your locker, all strong enough to hold books!

 

And what will this cost you? Nothing! But your construction crew will greatly appreciate your opening a bag of Hot Tamales (the greatest candy ever!) to share around. The best part is, not only are the shelves useful, building them takes up pretty much a whole day. Tick another one off the calendar, help out a buddy, and eat yourself into a sugar-induced stupor. Hey, another successful day in prison!

 

 

Rec Yard Run Playlist - Finally!

 

Okay, scratch the previous playlist for now.  We have breaking news! Tomorrow the famed Covid Lockdown 18 (those of us confined to our cells for over 100 days amidst transfer to new prison – see previous posts), we finally get to go outdoors!  To the prison rec yard! Hallelujah! Praise the Lord!  Guys are so hyped, it’s like Oprah’s giving out cars or something!

 

So, in preparation for my first walk/run on the track since before Thanksgiving, I’m shifting to EPP (Emergency Playlist Preparation), all tunes with an upbeat jogging tempo.  This list is (mostly) ‘90s rap, a little something to get the old legs moving again.  I’m so excited!

 

1.     Hit ‘em Up (2Pac).  Basically Tupac and the West Coast crew calling out Biggie, Puffy, and the East Coast rappers. All fun and games until both Tupac and Biggie ended up dead.

 

2.     Hypnotize (Notorious B.I.G.). “Poppin’ them smooth since the days of Underoos.” That line always makes me laugh. (If you’re too young to know what “underoos” are, check out the interwebs.)

 

3.     I Left My Wallet in El Segundo (A Tribe Called Quest). I like this one because it’s a story, not the era’s usual braggadocio, killing, etc. An adventure tale where things don’t go quite as hoped.

 

4.     Juice (Notorious B.I.G.). An urban memoir: “I made the change from a common thief/to up close and personal with Robin Leach.” Before MTV Cribs, remember Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous? That’s when you knew you’d made it.

 

5.     Unbelievable (Notorious B.I.G.). “I got 357 ways to simmer, saute, I’m the winner all day.” Biggie knew how to “serve up” other rappers; makes me smile every time I hear him go off like that.

 

6.     0 to 100 (Drake). Most current song that I own, and it’s not that new.

 

7.     Warning (Notorious B.I.G.). Great beat for keeping up my running pace, plus a lot of clever slanted rhymes in here for a guy who claimed to not be that bright.

 

8.     Lose Yourself (Eminem). When I’m getting tired, this one will help me catch that second wind.

 

9.     Welcome 2 Detroit (Trick Trick).  Detroit’s call out that the West and East Coast rappers better not overlook them anymore.

 

10.  Run this Town (JayZ/Rihanna/Kanye). Rihanna’s contribution is great: “I’m just trying to change the color on your mood ring.”  Remember mood rings?  Hilarious!

 

11.  2 of Amerikas Most Wanted (2Pac & Snoop). “Nothin’ but a Gangsta Party.” This one in honor of all the wannabe gangstas in prison.

 

12.  Hostile Gospel (Talib Kweli). “The truth is hard to swallow/and it will leave you scarred tomorrow.”  Ain’t that the truth. Kweli is a smart guy, a great lyricist. So many clever, thought-provoking lines in this one.

 

13.  Eat to Live (Talib Kweli). Story about a family struggling to survive. Vivid picture of the lives of the impoverished. “Grandma say Jesus will be here any day/good ‘cause with nothin’ to eat/it’s gettin’ hard to pray.”

 

14.  Wu Banga 101 (Ghostface Killah, GZA, Cappadonna).

 

15.  Legend of the Liquid Sword (GZA). He’s from the Wu Tang Clan. Great voice, great beat.

 

16.  It’s Not a Game (Raekwon & GZA). “If you don’t stand for this life, you fall for anything/we plan our dreams/it ain’t a game/we don’t run game, we run businesses/watch us shine/watch the world be our witnesses.”

 

17.  We Will Rob You (Raekwon/Slick Rick/GZA/Masta Killa). Another story song. Maybe it's because I'm just a middle-aged White guy, but tales like this are more engaging to me than staccato yelling about how great you are.

 

Woohoo! Alright!  So, the 18 of us looked like extras from The Walking Dead. After 100 days in lockdown, we stumbled outside, pale, cringing at the sunlight, but – we made it! Let me tell you, never has an oppressive, barbed-wired, walled-in, guard towered, spotlighted blight of a so-called Rec Yard looked so beautiful!  Yes, the Morman’s say it’s in Missouri or someplace, but I may have just found Eden!

Country and Western Prison Playlist

 

So things have finally started looking up – relatively speaking – after 100 days of lockdown. We finally received our property!  Now that I have my MP3 player (Prison-Pod), I spent a couple hours piecing together a new playlist.  This one has the added benefit of drowning out MAGA Man’s snoring!

 

1.     Folsom Prison Blues.  Might as well jump right in with a classic, but let’s switch it up by going with a version by Keb Mo from Kindred Spirit: A Tribute to Johnny Cash.

 

2.     Bartender. This song sums up the attitude you get from a lot of guys in prison.  The “Oh, I f__ked up this time, might as well just sit here and take it.” No bitterness, just a resigned, “Oh well.”

 

3.     Tennessee Whiskey (Chris Stapleton version).  No offense to any Kentucky bourbon fans, but Jack Daniels is the woe-is-me country drink of choice.

 

4.     Whiskey Glasses (Morgan Wallen). What’s a country song without whiskey and women? Although, if you follow the news, old Morgan has some other issues to contend with right now.

 

5.     You’ll Never Leave Harlan Alive (Patty Lawless). Hauntingly beautiful song. I’ve met some guys from the nearly mythical Harlan County, and it sounds like a pretty rough life. Melancholic story that puts things in perspective. For some, day-to-day life is a struggle.

 

6.     Beers and Sunshine (Darius “Hootie” Rucker). Not all country songs are about sorrowful drinking. Hootie picks us up a little bit. This song makes me think about the current state of the world, when he sings, “The only BS I need is Beers and Sunshine” and “…everyone’s down in a world gone crazy.”

 

7.     Allentown (Eric Church). Okay, just stop! Before anyone yells about this being a Billy Joel song and not country, it’s my playlist and my hometown, so I can include it if I want. Plus Eric Church makes it country.  I include this not only because I like my hometown, but because of some of the lyrics. You have to be tough to have grown up in Allentown back in the day. Granted, I missed a lot of this (thanks to my wonderful parents), but the ethos is passed down. As the song says, “It’s hard to keep a good man down, but I won’t be giving up today!”  This song speaks to my current situation, too.  Toughness and resiliency are needed even at the “easiest” prison. All I can say is, I won’t give up today. It’s just how we roll in A-Town.

 

8.     I See a Darkness (Johnny Cash). Performed here by the Man in Black, this song was written by one of the Oldham brothers (Will, I think) from the band Palace. He also goes by the name Bonnie Prince Billy. All I can say about this song is that I’m man enough to admit that at times it makes me cry. Sitting alone in the dark, thinking about some of the friends I’ve made in prison. We’ve seen the true Darkness, but we still hope that the love we have in us will win out, that family, friends and society will the true us.  “To live I wont’ let go.”

 

9.     Sometimes I Cry (Chris Stapleton). Life in Prison:  “There are days I can walk around like I’m alright/I can keep the pain from coming out of my eyes/but sometimes, sometimes I cry when I can’t do nothin’ else.”

 

10.  Stick that in Your Country Song (Eric Church).  A tale of the hard workin’, maybe mildly disillusioned American. A good old rebellious country shout.

 

11.  Sinners Like Me (Eric Church). A little drinkin’, a little growin’ up, a little regret, memories.

 

12.  In Color (Jamey Johnson). A family story about coping with tough times the best you can.

 

13.  Jack Daniels (Eric Church). No equivocation here.  Just straight up a man and his bottle, the bottle kicking his ass again and again.

 

14.  Nobody to Blame (Chris Stapleton). When he says, “Turned my life into this country song,” that about says it all.  Prison is one long country song, when you think about it.

 

 

90 Days and Counting

 

DAY 90! 3 months. A quarter of a year. A whole season. Wow. Like many other prisoners, I have been living under unusual confinement rules, what they call a “modified schedule,” since Covid first hit a year ago.  For the past 90 days, my cellmate and I have been confined to a cell with a bunk bed and a toilet, ostensibly to protect us from the virus.  It’s been epically awful.  

 

For instance, of late, my cellie has taken to eating 4-6 apples or pears a day.  I don’t know if this sudden change of diet is the cause, but he has added a new treat to his repertoire:  4-5 times a day he squats on the toilet next to our bunk and shits out roadkill. Love Canal and Lake Erie can now look at each other with an “at least we’re not that bad” attitude.  My only resort is to spend most of the day with the blanket pulled over my face because at least then I can only smell my own B.O., which I’m more or less immune to at this point.

 

One positive is that I’ve found a way to get my cellie to pipe down when he waves the MAGA flag to get an entertaining argument going. He has an undying love for Stephen King, whom he regards as the greatest writer of our generation. His basis is “look how many of his books have been turned into movies.” When I try to engage in intelligent discourse about how that statement actually may just say that he writes books that make good movies and nothing more, he stands unfazed.  Hemingway, Tolstoy, Delillo, Faulkner, Lee, King. Anyone else think old Steve doesn’t belong on this list? 

Anyway the other day another guy favorably compared Dean Koontz to Stephen King.  Now, I’ve never read a Koontz novel, but I’m guessing his books may fall into the same genre as King.  Well, saying that sent my cellie into an apoplectic fit. I thought he was going to finally challenge me to a duel or something in defense of his writing hero. I filed this away for future reference.

 

Now, whenever the rumblings arise of “That damned Nancy Pelosi!” or “The problem with BLM” or “What’s so wrong about naming a school after Robert E. Lee?” all I have to say is “Man, I can’t wait to get out of here and grab me a good Dean Koontz book” and my cellie freezes like a spotlit deer.  A-ha!  MAGA Man’s Kryptonite!

 

Luckily, in spite of everything, even after 90 days, his attempt to blow up the toilet, and his idolatry of the former President, we do actually get along pretty well.  I’m thankful for having a good cellie.  How we get along, I don’t know, but somehow all considered, it appears to work.

 

Starting on Day 91, I’m going to stop griping.  Maybe, possibly – at least I’ll try.  And hey, you never know.  Day 91 could be the day the cell door opens, we receive our property, we get issued a full set of clothes….  I mean, A MAN CAN DREAM!

Out of the Frying Pan...

 

In Spanish they say, “Mas vale malo conocido, que Bueno por conocer” to describe what has happened to us (We would have been better off with the bad we knew (the SHU) than the unknown we imagined would be better (quarantine on the Unit). Coming out of the Hole means we lost being able to take a shower whenever we wanted, but we do have control over the lights in our cell. We have a tv room, but no way to listen to shows.  We live on a huge otherwise empty Unit of prison cells and hallways where we might run laps or get out and stretch a little, but because of quarantine, we’re only allowed out of our cells three times a week for brief showers down the hall. Somehow, having a little bit of space so close, yet still denied, is worse than being locked in the SHU.

 

As I’ve mentioned before, we’ve been issued these over-sized ridiculous jumpsuits. And for some reason, on the Unit, our thin mattresses have built-in lumps at one end, intended, I suppose to serve as pillows? These lumps are maybe a half inch higher than the mattress itself, clearly pawned off on the BOP by some quack chiropractor hoping to create thousands of neck problems and more business for himself. The only safe way to sleep on these things is to lie flat on your back; otherwise you risk waking up (if you can sleep at all) with a stiff neck or with aching shoulders. A real joy!

 

There is one positive about being out of the SHU. For the first time in months, we have an unfrosted window that allows an occasional glimpse of sunlight. The view, however, leaves something to be desired. Seems to be a tennis court-sized drainage area between our Unit and the outer containing wall of the prison, dank and no doubt mosquito-infested. I’ve only seen two birds dare to land on this mini-Dismal Swamp. Perhaps we’ll see a cottonmouth emerge from the central drain – that would be entertaining!

 

In other words, pretty much the same old shit in a slightly different setting. We’ve been locked in for 76 days now, quite an ordeal for Low Security inmates accustomed to some freedom of movement.  76 days = 1,824 hours. Out of those 1,824 hours I personally have been allowed outside for a grand total of 2.5 hours, for shackled walks to the bus, the office, etc. Only a few of those precious minutes could be considered recreation time, pacing in a glorified dog kennel. But wait, if I add the cumulative shower time and phone time in the hallway over the past couple of weeks, that doubles my total time out of my cell over the past nearly 3 months!

 

Clearly, being treated this way is not healthy, physically or mentally.  It’s hard, really HARD.  Yet in denying my request for Compassionate Release last fall, the judge cited that the BOP has our situation “under control” and Covid “contained.”  I invite this worthy fellow to spend a week with us and perhaps reconsider his judgment.  Being in prison is punishment enough, but being shuffled halfway across the country and being treated like crap for months so the BOP can pretend to be doing something about the pandemic?  That is simply cruel.

 

As for the BOP’s Covid plan? “Despues de nino ahogado, tapen el pozo.” (They covered the well after the child had drowned.) But I guess the judges, lawmakers and the public are buying their BS. Living through it, I can tell you that not since the start of the lockdowns last March have I witnessed anything to make me believe that they had/have/or will have this situation under control.

 

I pluck away, trying to stay sane and healthy, doing whatever I can.  “No hay mal que por bien no venga.”  (There is nothing bad that doesn’t come for good, or as we Anglo’s say it, “Every cloud has a silver lining.”)  Well, let me tell you, this is one damn big cloud.  One can only hope that the eventual silver lining is proportional!

The Upside of 60 Days in the SHU

 

It dawned on me, this blog's editor, that there is no way to accurately share the quite expressive writing in these notes, so thought it might be better, at least this time, to screenshot the actual letter. 

NEWS FLASH!

 

Breaking news this morning from our resident John Coffey guy.  He shared an anecdote about how his neighbors once approached him to inquire if he might be selling drugs out of his house.  This really ticked him off, so he yelled at them, calling them racists for accusing him of dealing drugs just because he was Black, etc., etc.  They said, wait a minute, we’re talking about all the cars coming in day and night, staying a minute, then driving off.  Oh yeah, he shouted back, the reason for that is (and I quote):  “I’m a popular-ass mother__r, people like me, come from all over to just say, hey!” 

 

Yeah.  Like people make pilgrimages to his house, just to bask in his presence or something.  Anyway, he wraps up this tale of magnificence and badness with the following:  “I really put them racists in their place, I mean how dare they?  Of course, I was moving product, but how dare them to think that?  Hmm?”

 

I asked, have you considered that the reason they thought you were selling drugs might have been BECAUSE YOU WERE SELLING DRUGS?  Wish you could have seen his sincere indignation about this, that anyone would accuse him of such a thing – absolutely amazing!