Highly Personalized and Unorthodox Running Playlist

 

Here we go, folks, another prison playlist, this one to clock my daily runs. Unorthodox, since I don’t check Beats-Per-Minute to match my cadence, rely on dance, electronica, or other upbeat genres, and often include slow, sad songs. Other guys like angry, hard tunes to get their adrenaline going, but that doesn’t work for me. It’s the story songs I like, fueling emotions and energy, especially those that speak to my time in prison.  The following playlist got me through my first ever half-marathon last week!  A little over 52 laps around our track!

 

1.     Cumbersome – Seven Mary Three.  Simply rocks and the band used to play at a college I attended. One line nails how I felt at the beginning of my bid: “I have become cumbersome to the world.”

 

2.     Bother – Stone Sour. Bleak, but yeah, sometimes….

a.     “I wish I was too dead to cry…”

b.     “I wish I was too dead to care…”

c.     “…my flaws are open season.”

d.     “for this I gave up trying.”

e.     “Wish I’d died instead of lived.”

Just sitting on your bunk, head in hands, it’s surreal sometimes, as if it’s all happening to someone else. You see guys around you projecting an air, proclaiming that they don’t care. You learn that it’s all bullshit. They only wish they didn’t care – would be easier. The part about “flaws” and “open season”? The media, strangers, even some old friends, tie you up and make a pinata out of you, taking their swings.

3.    Nobody Praying for Me – Seether. “Nobody gives a f**k…there’s nobody praying for me.” Let me stress that this is NOT true in my case. Plenty of people have my back, and for that I’m both lucky and grateful. But this song gets to that awful, alone feeling that crosses your mind sometimes (no matter what anybody says). Prison can so mess with your mind!

By this point, you’d think I’d have quit my run to curl up in a fetal position on the track. Nope! I’m just getting into the groove, emotion coursing through my body, reflecting on how low I’ve been at times, but knowing that I’ve risen past it. Now to add some fuel to the Man-I-Got-A-Messed-Up-Life fire.  Miles left in this run….

4.     Hurt – Johnny Cash. This song has been on previous playlists, but it’s a keeper. Most guys here will understand the lyric:  “I hurt myself today, to see if I still feel/I focus on the pain, the only thing that’s real.”  Hurt is complicated and takes many forms: shame, guilt, anger, self-recrimination, substance abuse, arguing, fighting with those you love, etc. I’ve said it and heard it from other guys too many times to count, that the pain is at least better than feeling dead inside. You don’t want to become numb to the world.

 

5.     Cages – Need to Breathe. At times, I think we are all stuck in one kind of cage or another, with no simple answer as to how to get out, “fighting uphill battles,” “looking back on all the wreckage,” “we needed redemption and all we got was cages.” No matter how hard you try, will you always be locked up in a cage, even if it’s one you built yourself?

 

6.     I See a Darkness – Johnny Cash. Cash could wring so much emotion from a sparse arrangement. This song makes me think of all the good men I’ve met in prison, all we’ve shared and endured. As the Man in Black sings, I hope they all find peace someday. You try to look on the bright side, but sometimes when you look around, all you see is darkness.

 

Depressed yet, dear reader? I’m running strong now, just about finished with my Morrissey phase (look it up – 80s musician not known as the most chipper dude). We’ve dived deep, acknowledging how crappy I’ve felt for days on end, yet realizing that I’m still chugging along in spite of it all, that’s what motivates the back end of the run. Resiliency is my super power!

 

7.     I and Love and You – Avett Brothers. Bittersweet song, used to sing along to it with wife and kids all the time, but now here I am in prison and they’re so far away. No way to put it, except to say, it sucks! No one to blame but myself, so no pity party, but still…sucks bigtime. I’ve learned, though, that the key to making it through this bid is acceptance. Do a Rocky and pick your ass up and get back in the fight.

 

8.     Straight to Hell – Drivin’ and Cryin’. In college, would sit around with buddies, singing this song, not to blaspheme in any way, but with a smile and laughter. We didn’t think about going to hell, but solely about accepting who we are. To make it through the day, you have to deal with what brought you to this point in your life, then get on with living. I’ve seen countless guys struggle to achieve this stage. Some can’t get there, still espousing a victim mentality, always blaming someone else for their problems. It may be a cliché, but you have to take it like a man. Own your life, good or bad.

 

9.     Strength – The Alarm. An oldie from the 80s. I remember at age 15, moving to a new town, tagging along with my Bro and his college buddies to see this band opening for Pat Benatar. Though I’m guessing it wasn’t written in a prison cell, this line is fitting: “Someone write me a letter/I need to know I’m still alive/someone give me a telephone call/I need to hear human sound/someone open up the door and let me out of this place/I’ve been caged up for oh so long/I don’t know if I’m living or I’m dying.”

 

10  Sigh No More – Mumford and Sons. Early on they sing, “You know me/you know me” and it reminds me of my younger daughter. As a toddler, she would wake up early and crawl into bed with Mom & Dad. I’d act surprised, wondering aloud who could be waking us up. She’d grab my head in her hands, bring her round face close to mine, and exclaim, “You Know Me!” Powerful lyrics: “Love, it will not betray you, dismay you, or enslave you/it will set you free to be/more like the man you were meant to be.” That line repeats with a little more energy each time. In prison, a huge hurdle is learning to love yourself and accept that others still love you, no matter how awful you feel. This song speaks to gradually feeling stronger, building on that love until the day I walk out of here.

 

11  Beautiful – Christina Aguilera. “I am beautiful no matter what they say/words can’t bring me down.” I’ve heard some pretty harsh words said about me, but words don’t make you who you are unless you let them.  Btw, have been told I make quite a sight singing along to this tune as I round the track!

 

12  Alive – Pearl Jam. Probably we’ve all had this thought: I’m still alive, but do I deserve to be? Do I deserve a second chance? Do I deserve the support I’ve received? In the end, savor the new day coming, and the opportunity you have to face it.

 

13  The Sound of Silence – Disturbed (Live at Red Rocks). Yep, the old Simon and Garfunkel song, but it’s the emotion of this band’s performance that draws me in. The tune and the voice build and build to the powerful ending, like something’s bursting. Of course, gotta be one of the Top Ten ever most famous opening lines: “Hello Darkness, my old friend/I’ve come to talk with you again.” I’ve listened to this song hundreds of times, and I’m still not sure what all of it means. That said, I’ve spent many a sleepless night in darkness, at times locked alone in a cell. So I grasp the cliché, that silence can be deafening, when you’re left alone with only your thoughts echoing in your head. But what I really love is the vibe of this tune (could be singing complete nonsense, and I’d still get goose bumps).

 

14  Only God Knows Why – Kid Rock. Always my go-to song, from Motor City’s own self-proclaimed white trash rocker. Who’d have thunk it? “People don’t know about the things I say or do/they don’t understand about the shit I’ve been through.” And the kicker: “So I think I’ll keep a walkin’ with my head held high/I’ll keep movin’ on/and only God knows why.”  I see it every day, maybe it is God in action, but guys dust themselves off and get back to it, many who have it a lot tougher than I do. There’s this little voice on your shoulder that tells you to get up off that bunk, go do something, anything! Read, study, exercise, talk to somebody, just don’t sit there and let it eat you up! My version of this is my favorite running quote: Either you run the day, or the day runs you. Some days my run is easy, like floating on air. Other days, it’s a grueling marathon, uphill the whole way with wind in your face. Regardless, you have to get to the finish line. Put another slog in the rearview.

 

Well, there you have it. Yes, a pretty unorthodox playlist for a run, but it works for me. About 2 hours from now I’ll be cueing it up and hitting the track, then a long hot shower, a bit of reading, and hit the sack. Another one in the books. A new guy once asked me if it gets easier over time. Had to tell him the truth as I know it. It actually gets harder. The key is that you have to figure out how to become stronger!

The Great Instant Milk Experiment

 

I LOVE MILK!

 

Milk, yes milk, is in my Top Five Drinks List behind only Duvel Belgian Golden Ale, and followed by YooHoo, Coca-Cola, and original lemon/lime Gatorade.  And for a while here, I’ve been living in Milk Heaven, strangely thanks to the pandemic. Most of the past year+ we’ve been in emergency mode, and to prevent spread of the virus, meals have been delivered to our unit instead of being served in the cafeteria. Breakfast arrives at 6 am.  What with people sleeping in, choosing not to eat breakfast, or just not being milk fiends like me, I’ve been swamped with milk cartons or, sadly sometimes, milk pouches. Milk for cereal, for coffee, put on ice to save for lunch and dinner, more than even I can drink.

 

But then came the day the milk died.  The kitchen felt that too much contraband was leaving the dining hall smuggled in on the meal carts (go figure), so covid protocols be damned, we’re going back to the cafeteria again. We were promised that each unit would dine separately to reduce the risk of prison-wide infection, but since that would require time, effort, and coordination, the guards threw up their hands, said whatev’, and – Delta Variant, anyone? – the whole prison population gets thrown in together at meal times.

 

So no more hand-me-down milk for me!  But I was not to be deterred!  My initial plan was to keep to myself, eat a quick breakfast, grab a couple extra milks and rush back to my cell for coffee. But even though they couldn’t be bothered to keep the units separated during meals, the guards began to fiercely police food leaving the dining hall.  Heading back to the unit the first day meant you were scrutinized, checked-over, and possibly frisked by no fewer than three officers. I mean, you’d think milk was the infection agent for covid or something.

 

I can imagine their conversations, along the lines of:  "Officer Smith, you seized six milk cartons today!  Thank goodness you are keeping the units safe!" Or "Men, remember, there is nothing we need less than a bunch of criminals hopped up on dairy products and strung out on calcium!"

 

Did I mention that I love milk? What was I going to do?  I was willing to try the old armpit hide or waistband stuff to get past the guards, but to stop that the staff pulled out the big guns:  UNIFORMS!  And not just any uniforms!  Jumpsuits!  I mean, seriously? Nothing makes you feel less like a real person than parading around in one-piece jumpers. I’ve known inmates who refuse to leave their cells all day if they have to wear these things. But if this new costume keeps guys from taking a carton of milk back to their units, well the prison system is all for it.

 

They had me beat. No way could I get past the guard gauntlet in this get-up. So I turned to my last resort, a truly drastic move:  Instant Milk.  Yes, I’m a milk snob, the very idea of instant milk upsets me.  As a kid, my mother once tried to mix milk powder with liquid milk in order to save money, but my siblings and I bucked on that one– we weren’t going out like that! After all, what self-respecting American child is going to taint their monster cereals (of which the rare Yummy Mummy may be the best) with – gasp! – instant milk?

 

But here I am in prison 40 years later, and it’s my only choice. I don’t have my old fave Count Chocula, so here it’s Blueberry Flaxseed Granola. I open the powdered milk container, scoop out 3 tablespoons, add exactly 8 ounces of cold water and, with a sniff, begin to stir. It takes longer than you’d think for the granules to dissolve, but eventually, yes, the moment of truth arrives!  Do I dare to drink it straight? Or only in cereal or coffee? Baby steps:  two spoonfuls in the coffee (hmm, not bad).  With a bowl of granola? (Tastes okay, but not cold enough.)

 

Day Two of the Great Instant Milk Experiment:  I left a frozen bottle of water out overnight, thinking by morning it would have melted down to meet my strict coldness standard.  Fail. Again, with the coffee it was okay, but just not cold enough for cereal.

 

Day Three of the GIME:  Up at 6 am, mixed the stuff up and only then put the milk on ice for an hour and a half.  Result?  Satisfactory, maybe this could be tolerable long-term. I mean, it’s nowhere close to the real thing. Based on usage and price (I have to buy this stuff at the commissary store), it will probably cost me about $15/month to avoid the mess they call breakfast.  I’m doing okay, but you never know when I might crack and find myself suiting up in my jumpsuit for fresh milk again!

 

 

Showdown on the Track

I run.  I run a lot.  Known on the compound as “that old guy who runs all the time.” Overlooking the “old” part, can’t argue with that.  When we’re not locked down, I get in 50-minute runs around our quarter-mile track inside the walls, averaging 35-40 miles per week.  For me, that’s up to six miles a day.  Sometimes, when I’m feeling especially chipper, I can push it to seven.  I’m not the fastest guy here, but for a guy in his 50s, I do okay.  Can maintain an 8-9-minute pace the whole time, steady as she goes.

 

            Lately, some of the younger guys have taken to running sprints on the track.  When invited to join them, I declined. Trying to keep up with 20 and 30 year olds in sprinting?  Um, no.  I told them, “Let me know when you want to do a 5-miler.”  Little did I know that they would take me up on this challenge!

 

            As you would imagine, most guys in prison work out and they are pumped. Pull-ups, push-ups, burpees, curls, more burpees, all day long. So these guys with superhero physiques imagine they can do anything.  Before I knew it, a plan was hatched, a 5-mile challenge race.  Seven of the fittest dudes were recruited, ranging in age from 23-38; the rest of the guys laid bets.  Even being the old guy, I felt pretty confident.  Some of these guys would crush me if we ran just one lap, but I knew I could chug along at a 2-minutes a lap pace pretty much forever. 

 

            Race Day arrived and the betting was fierce!  I walked out on the track like Tiger Woods. You could bet the field against me. My competitors each had his own strategy:  go out hard to wear me out, use each other to draft, hold my slow pace and outsprint me at the end, etc.  My plan was to clock my 2 minute laps until and unless I needed to go faster.

 

            So right off the rip two guys raced ahead. One of them dropped out on lap 8 of our 20. At the 3-mile mark, the other guy still led by half a lap.  The rest of us hung together, except for one runner who lagged far behind.  Our 3-mile time was 23:40, just under 2-minutes per lap, in line with my plan.  The guy in front eventually faded and walked off the track at lap 14, along with one of the guys who’d been pacing me.  Now, just three of us were left, and that one guy half a lap back.  As we turned into mile four, two were totally gassed, so that left me with just one to beat.

 

            What he didn’t know was that I had a secret weapon, having just read an inspirational book by an ex-Navy Seal, endurance athlete and overall bad-ass David Goggins.  I came to the track with a warrior’s mindset. No amount of taunts or trash talk could touch me. Yes, this was a good-natured race, just something to do, but for me it became a true test of will. I built it up in my mind, so that my opponents were not just fellow inmates. They represented all the obstacles and detractors I expect to face when I leave prison. I silently repeated Goggins’ hashtag over and over:  #canthurtme.  As we turned into the last mile, my opponent became the embodiment of the pain, the shame, the haters, the DA, the prison, basically everything that has happened to me since my arrest seven years ago.  I wasn’t angry, but I was armored.

 

            We hit the last lap side-by-side, the whole prison yard cheering and jeering.  My opponent (who, by the way, is a nice guy and a friend), said, “Last lap, I got you OG, you can’t outsprint me at the end.”  A few of my buddies who had also read the Goggins book heard my reply, the only words I spoke the whole race, taken straight from the book:  “The problem for you is that I’m a Bad Ass MotherF__ker.”  I dropped the hammer.

 

            No way was I going to wait until the last turn to outsprint a guy half my age.  I kicked in to a higher gear at the start of the lap and that final quarter mile went by in 1:28. Margin of victory:  20 meters.  Winner:  The Old Man.

 

            Not only did I win, what I said at the end of the race had made its rounds before I caught my breath, the whole yard in hysterics, because no one had ever heard me talk like that.  So, does my Michael Jordanesque fabricated battle mean that I won’t have struggles in the future? Of course not.  But for this one day, at least, I got my mindset straight. As a bonus, I’m now King of the Track. Thank you David Goggins. #canthurtme.

Prison Nicknames

In prison, nicknames carry weight. Here in the new prison I've been shipped to, I've had to learn a whole new batch of them. Some make sense, some are funny, some are demeaning, and some make you scratch your head. Learning the names of the guys known only by initials is a challenge. So far, I've met DJ, DC, DA, D, JB, JO and KP. Guys with the same name get an adjective to clarify, such as Straight Paul and Gay Paul. (When I asked if that was the best they could do to differentiate, they looked at me like I was crazy.)  There's Black Rob and White Rob, too. But then there's Scooter, a guy who had been here awhile, and a new prisoner with the same name. Initially, the tried and true method was applied, so we had Asian Scooter (the OG Scooter) and White Scooter. But then OG Scooter went all "Highlander" on everyone ("There can be only one!"), so we gave the new guy an entirely new handle. Don't ask why, but he shall forever be known as Moped.

Other guys include the obligatory OG and Old School, a Whitey who is Black, a guy dubbed Bama who is from Carolina, and a Chino and a Tiburon (that would be me) who aren't Hispanic. Big Shirley is our male-to-female Trans prisoner (who prefers to be known as Maddie and whose real name is, I kid you not, Guy). Think I'll reach out to Roseanne Cash about possibly recording my new song, "A Girl Named Guy." (For those of you who don't get this little joke, seek Johnny Cash's "A Boy Named Sue" on the interwebs.  Btw, did you know that this ditty was written by poet Shel Silverstein?)

So on to the demeaning names:  A guy with a partial arm amputation is known as Chicken Wing. Big Al isn't quite five feet tall, but Big Troy stand 6'3" and easily 300 pounds. Goldsmith's teeth are capped in gold.  Chief is Native American.

In the non-sense category we have Slick, Nut, Dig, Wax, Mars, and Bear. All of these guys can explain their nicknames, but their explanations only make sense to them.

Let's not forget Buddy Lee and Ricky Bobby -- both, of course, good old boys.

Moving on to the celebrities, there's a Don Johnson, a Randy Newman, a Martin, a Luther, and a King, a Polo and an Usher. But the most amazing name of all, there's this guy who goes by the initials JFK. Not a nickname, it turns out. His full name is John Fitzgerald Kennedy! For good measure, his cellie's name is Hoover, so of course he goes by J. Edgar.

Emotional Overload Playlist

 The songs on today's playlist all get to me in some way.  I'm not claiming that they're all great songs or that they'll make you cry, but they work for me. When I don't care to fake it or put on the brave face, I just put this on and let it roll.  This playlist, for me, is cathartic, cleansing in a way.  All the stress from the pandemic and the BOP's response, all the hassles my fellow inmates and I have endured, the isolation, loneliness, sorrow - I find that sometimes you have to embrace it.

We were allowed outside early this morning, 39 degrees and windy.  I put on my earphones and ran, not too fast, not hard, but just let the music drive me through all my feelings, "alone" with them for 45 minutes.  Just ran away from it all. I'd like to claim that it was the wind and allergies that had my eyes watering, but you'd know better.  Anyway, here are the songs on my Emotional Overload Playlist, in hopes they may connect with you:

1.    Hallelujah (Jeff Buckley).  Pure beauty this version of Leonard Cohen's classic.

2.    Bartender (Dave Matthews & Tim Reynolds version).  DMB does tearjerkers? What gets me here is Dave's tone of desperation throughout, on bended knee searching for something, anything....

3.    Can't Find My Way Home (Eric Clapton & Steve Winwood). A guy strummed this on guitar on the ballfield one evening at dusk, while we all sang along, lost in thought over the hard journey ahead to find our ways home.

4.    Bother (Stone Sour).  "I wish I was too dead to care...I wish I was too dead to cry...my flaws are open season."  Any guy in prison will tell you they've had these thoughts. Some give in and go dead inside. The rest of us? Just gluttons for punishment, I guess.

5.    Bridge Over Troubled Water (Simon & Garfunkle). Maybe you have to be over 40 to know this song, and if so, no explanation needed. If younger, hit the Interwebs - it'll be worth it.

6.    Into the Mystic (Van Morrison).  One of my Top Ten Favorite Songs Ever!  Van at the top of his game, every line telling a story, and all that longing oozing.

7.    Nothing Compares 2 U (Prince & Rosie Gaines). It's Prince's song, but it's Gaines who pushes it to the stratosphere. When they trade lines they just tear at your heart, then the horns hit to bring it home.

8.    Cold (Chris Stapleton). Dude sounds as if his heart is absolutely shattered. No idea if this is autobiographical, but I'm buying it. The guitar crying in the background adds a knockout punch.

9.    He Ain't Heavy... (Neil Diamond).  Cheesy, you say? Maybe. Do you have a brother? Close friend? Sister? This song will make you want to give them a call.

10.    Fast Car (Black Pumas). "Anyplace is better." Trying so damned hard, but getting nowhere, yet still optimistic about somehow starting over.

11.    Love Me Anyway (Pink & Chris Stapleton). Who hasn't had these thoughts?

12.    Sometimes I Cry (Chris Stapleton). When I can't do nothin' else....

13.    I and Love and You (Avett Bros. - Live Vol. 3).  My wife and I sang along to this tune at one of their concerts, and as I remember it, half the crowd was singing along, too, in tears.

14.    Everybody Hurts (REM - Live in Dublin). While you aren't sitting in lockup like me, you and everyone else out there has hurt. But it helps to remember, that you are not alone.

15.    Anyone (Demi Lovato - Live at Grammy's). She has to re-start it, because she starts crying. Power, vulnerability, despair - heart-wrenching!  This one's the knockout punch - if your iron heart has not cracked after this one, you must be an android.

Okay, that's the new list - hope you like it! It helps me, and maybe it can do the same for you on a tough day.

The Only Line that Matters

 

This unit’s got 3 computers for the 128 guys living here. They can be used to check emails and account balances, download music, read prison memos, and submit electronic cop-outs (inmate requests). Everybody wants to use these pc’s, of course, so you would guess that there would be some sort of sign-up sheet, assignment by cell number, maybe form a line?  No, no, and no.

 

Remember the stock exchange trading floor in the film Wall Street? All those manic traders shouting, gesticulating, pointing?  If only things here could be that organized. The minute the cell doors open in the morning, all hell breaks loose:  “I’m first!”  “Yo, you got me?” “Who’s last?” Keep in mind that the unit is just one big room with tiers of cells wrapped around it, like you see on tv.  As soon as you step out of your cell, you start calling your spot. So when one of the lucky first 3 guys to the computers finally finishes his work, the scream, “Who’s next?” goes out. Guys call their spots from the shower, while playing cards, or on the phone. Utter chaos!

 

Now suppose you are downloading music? There’s a 15-minute time limit before you have to log off and start over, but doing so is considered a breach of some unwritten rule. Therefore, you have guys actually getting in line behind themselves, saying things like:  “Wait up, I’m after me!”

 

The complainers, of course, get upset about how long they have to wait to use a computer. I try to explain that if “being in line” means you can be anywhere on the unit doing whatever, there’s no real pressure for guys to wrap up their computer work. But the idea of forming an actual waiting line?  No way.  They go, “What, you mean I’d actually have to stand in a real line?”  End of discussion.

 

After all, guys in prison hate lines.  I know, everybody hates lines, but in prison, crank that up a notch.  We have to stand in line to shower, to use the phone, to use the bathroom, to put hot water in your mug, to get in and out of every door.  Lines, lines, everywhere a line….

 

Some guys, however, can transcend line hatred. These zen Yodas have achieved a higher level of existence that I am seeking to attain. Their mantra has been stated many ways, but always comes down to “I’ve got nowhere to go and all day to get there.”  If the chow line eats up a half hour, well that’s 30-minutes closer to going home.  To these guys, all of life is a line, and the only one that matters is the one at the exit door.  So if my life is a 24-7 line to release from prison, why does it matter where I spend a tiny chunk of it on any particular day?  I can be in line to play chess or shower or use the computer, what’s the big deal?

 

The only line that is important to me ends with my foot touching soil outside the front gates. As I told one greenhorn when he asked me why I seem so chill in line:  “The only line that matters to me ends with the start of the rest of my life.”

Charmed? Seriously?

 

The topic today is the tv show Charmed.  Maybe you know it?  Alyssa Milano, Rose McGowan, the other girl, and sometimes the pre-Big-Boys Kailey Coroco, attractive women to be sure, but plenty of shows have hot women. As you might expect, the popularity of tv shows in prison is directly correlated to said hotness.

 

Still, Alyssa Milano alone cannot explain the INSANE level of devotion inspired by Charmed among my fellow guests of the BOP.  The following is a 100% true report of our prison Nielson ratings.  In the common room, there are eight televisions. One is dedicated to sports (usually ESPN), another to news (most likely CNN), the others to Telemundo, BET/VH1, and – the tv known as the “white” tv is typically tuned to Discovery/History/A&E.  This leaves three tv’s that rotate among FX/AMC/TNT (movie channels), and local tv for shows like American Idol and Family Feud.  All good, no problems, right?

 

Not so fast!  An argument, a serious argument, broke out over which tv would have Charmed on every morning. As more than one person emphatically stated, “I ain’t never been to no prison in the m-f’ing BOP that don’t show Charmed."  Guys got really upset over this. Life without Charmed? Unthinkable! Some guys got into discussing what things are worth taking a stand for, the list going something like this:  (1) being called a B__tch; (2) comments about your wife or mother; (3) dude blowin’ up your hustle (taking money out of your pocket); and (4) Charmed!  Obsessive viewers can quote lines from their favorite episodes.  If you say, Season 3, Episode 4, they can recite a synopsis that will pass a fact check conducted via phone with a Googler on the other end.  I’ve even observed guys turning the channel from a Breaking Bad marathon so as not to miss Charmed!  Workout schedules are planned around favorite episodes.  The other day, they even switched off ESPN to watch the show.  Now, you must understand the gravity of such a situation. The gamblers need ESPN nearly 24-7 for scores, odds, injury updates, etc.  But for Charmed, hey, go for it.

 

As I may have said before, prison is truly Bizarro World (refer to the interwebs for Bizarro-Superman explanation and then Seinfeld for an amusing take on the concept).  I mean, on what planet would someone argue that Charmed is a good tv show? Milano a great actress?  Don’t get me wrong, Who’s the Boss was a cute show. What 12-15 year old boy didn’t like Milano on that show? But nobody was ever fooled into thinking she’d be a future Oscar winner.

 

Maybe it’s like comfort food – just knowing it will be on every day, that you can rely on it, adds some continuity to your otherwise Groundhog Day life.  After all, it’s a harmless, sometimes amusing/entertaining way to eat up some time. They show the episodes in order. When the four seasons end, they just start over again from the beginning, and the guys just keep watching!

 

I wonder if the ladies of Charmed know about their incredible popularity in prison? Here’s a million dollar idea:  “Prison Workouts with Alyssa, Rose, and the Other Lady”- a book or day calendar!  You could dress the Witches in prison garb and add in little blurbs about them, like VH1’s pop-up videos.  If – no when! – this takes off, you can move on to other publications, such as:  Orange is the New Black Yoga, Martha Stewart’s Convict Cooking (don’t laugh, through her friendship with Snoop, guys in prison LOVE them some Martha!), and Felicity and Lori’s Guide to Prison Parenting.  We’re talking media empire here! ConvicTV, books, movies....  Just wait until the former President goes to prison, this thing will explode bigly, it will be YUGE!