For the love of reading

For those of you who are curious, here is my reading list from 2009. The books are arranged in chronological order of my reading them with one star for recommended reading and two stars for my three favorites:

1. Kingless Land - Ed Greenwood
2. On the Road - Jack Kerouac *
3. The Jesus Way - Eugene Peterson
4. Truefaced - Bill Thrall, Bruce McNicol, John Lynch
5. Ex-Con for Christ - Dan Dugan
6. Watchman - Alan Moore *
7. Cat's Cradle - Kurt Vonnegut
8. Don't Waste Your Life - John Piper
9. Walking With God - John Eldredge *
10. Othello - William Shakespeare
11. Midsummer Night's Dream -- William Shakespeare
12. Dr. Faustus - Christopher Marlowe
13. The Idiot - Fyodor Dostoevsky *
14. Darkness Visible - William Golding
15. Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince *
16. Pygmalion - George Bernard Shaw
17. ABC of Architecture - James O'Gorman
18. Architecture - Jonathan Glancey
19. Architecture: A World History - Daniel Borden
20. Building - Mario Salvadori
21. Gulag Archipelago - Alexandr Solzhenitsyn **
22. The Dharma Bums - Jack Kerouac *
23. The Housekeeper and the Professor - Yoko Ogawa **
24. Architecture - Sinclair Gauldie *
25. Architecture as Art - Stanley Abercrombie
26. Shortcomings - Adrian Tomine
27. V For Vendetta - Alan Moore
28. Experiencing Architecture - Steen Eiler Rasmussen *
29. Real Christianity - William Wilberforce
30. Atlas Shrugged - Ayn Rand *
31. Black - Ted Dekker
32. Red - Ted Dekker
33. White - Ted Dekker
34. Same Kind of Different As Me - Ron Hall and Denver Moore *
35. Alvar Aalto - Nicholas Rey *
36. Godric - Frederick Buechner *
37. Turn of the Screw - Henry James
38. The Kite Runner - Khaled Hasseini *
39. A Thousand Splendid Suns _ Khaled Hasseini
40. The Road - Cormac McCarthy
41. Shadow's End - Sherri S. tepper
42. The Walking Road - Robert Kirkman
43. The Postman - David Brin *
44. Jedi Search - Kevin J. Anderson
45. Secrets in the Dark - Frederick Buechner **



"How many a man has dated a new era in his life from the reading of a book." ~Henry David Thoreau, Walden

Barter = exchange, haggle, swap, trade, traffic

Since we don't have any money here in prison, we are forced to go back to the Middle Ages to get many things we want by bartering. Yes, we have a commissary, but there are goods and services that the commissary doesn't provide, such as shoe repair, books, or extra ingredients on demand for that scrumptious spread you and your cellmate are throwing together.

For instance, my shoes were coming apart at the seams. Instead of spending $35 on a new pair through the commissary, I paid a guy a jar of hair grease and a couple Ramen soups to sew them up. This was about $3 worth of goods given to a guy who doesn't have any way of having commissary unless he works for it every now and then.

This system of bartering is in place despite the institutional rule against "trafficking and trading." This rule makes even giving away food to friends who are hungry unlawful. Needless to say, most guys ignore this rule. Every night there are groups of people in the day room sitting around a table digging into the same prsion pizza. And when someone leaves to go home, they often give away their useful items like shoes, hot pots, and radios.

Giving away these items also opens the market for a new service - forgery. Special purchase items, such as those useful items mentioned above, require property papers to prove ownership.When guys receive these items, whether by trade or gift, they need the property papers and etching to really make the items theirs. This is to prevent valuable items from being stolen. There are a few people who offer forged property papers and re-surfacing/re-etching to keep the items legitimate and in use.

Then there are the specific items that often can't be found in the dorm. Things like speakers and specific books often need word-of-mouth sent out around the unit to see if anyone has the goods or services you're looking for. I did this for two role-playing books that I needed to start up a game. The two books I found were being traded for about $10 worth of coffee and stamps, quite a deal for what are usually found in the free world for at least $50 new. The trade took place over a few days because it's tough to get stuff from one side of the unit to the other.

Just like when I lived in Africa, haggling is a valuable skill to have. Also, knowing the character of the person you trade with is important. Maybe I'm naive but I tend to trust people in transactions. I've been burned a couple times, but both times the transaction was eventually worked out. It's all in the wacky character of the market.

Three (good) friends *

I had a visit from Sandy and Betsy today. This second meeting was far less awkward for me. I knew what to expect instead of spending the day wondering. It was different right from the start when I recognized both of them, and they also knew who they were looking for. Their smiles upon seeing me were the kind of encouragement I get from anyone else who visits me.

We sat down at a table and launched into conversation. I heard all about their Christmas and family dynamics around the holidays. They asked me new questions about my life here and prior to incarceration. The rest of the two hours were spent just talking life in general like any conversation you might have over lunch with a friend.

What a great Christmas gift to see these two wonderful women. I am so blessed by all the friends, some of which I barely knew before my arrest, who write me. Contact with these folks has been such motivation for me. The community of Christ is amazing and full of good surprises. I really appreciate all of you who write, even if it does take me a little time to write back.


* Three Friends - acrylic by Harry Rich

Those who walk in darkness will see a great light.
His name is Wonderful, Counselor, God of Might,
Eternal Father, and Prince of Peace.
He will be worshiped on bended knee.
God's only son about to be born
Celebrated this bright Christmas morn.

The angel told Mary "Do not be afraid.
You are with child. Jesus is his name."
In those days of Augustus a decree went out
For the number of citizens to be found.
So Joseph and Mary went to Bethlehem,
But the inn they went to had no room for them.

During the night Mary gave birth
While shepherds were startled, hearing "Peace on Earth."
From an angel multitude of the heavenly host.
"Your Savior is in David town. Go now! Leave your post!"
The shepherds ran down the hills and into the town
To see Christ Jesus, Kings of Kings, with no crown.

They left and told all that had been seen and heard;
The first pastors to go out preaching the Word.
Now we, also simple, are called to do the same
Bringing glory and honor and praise to His name.

Isaiah 9:2, Luke 2:1-20

Merry Christmas, everyone!

Christmas was pretty good this year for me. The cool stuff started yesterday with a meeting with a friend I had made in county jail and had written a few times. I saw Cameron in the dining hall, then hung out with him at rec for a couple of hours, catching up on everything new. He is one of the very few guys my age here that has an intelligent mind, We're also both big gamers and have similar taste in games. It's great to have a friend around that I can actually talk with about my interests.

Late Christmas Eve it began to snow, as huge front moved in. The little bit of flurries grew into a full winter storm (at least for north Texas) with snow whirling through the air in the high wind. When I woke this morning and looked out the window, I saw pasture land covered with white. The snow had stuck and I had my first white Christmas.

Our Christmas meal was even better than Thanksgiving. The kitchen is $60,000 under - UNDER! - budget so they went all out to make Christmas great. We had smoked turkey and turkey ham, stuffing and cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes and gravy, green bean casserole, and dinner rolls. Our dessert tray had apple and pumpkin pie slices from Sara Lee, a cup of Blue Bunny ice cream, a big brownie, and two oatmeal raisin cookies. After finishing the main tray, I only had room in my belly for the ice cream and then only because it would have been no good if melted.

Tonight I was surprised to see that the volunteers who usually come out on Fridays had actually come out on Christmas day. We had a great worship service and message as a great close to a wonderful day.

Not much Pomp but rewarding Circumstances

Today was the graduation ceremony for all the vocational programs that were completed this fall and the choir was on hand for musical help. This ceremony was different than any I've been to but it was a great way to encourage the guys and recognize their accomplishments.

The ceremony was held in our grungy gym surrounded by all the weights. Chairs were set up in two halves of the room - one set for family and the other for the graduates - with at least 100 chairs on either side. The front of the gym had the podium and long tables for the officials with the choir set up before and to the side. Strewn about the gym were decorations and completed projects from the carpentry class, such as a rocking horse and a UT-themed inlaid table.

During the set up and short practice, we lost one of our soloists who was kicked out of the choir on the spot for holding up his pants while singing. One of the guards told the chaplain he was 'holding his crotch' and out he went. Ridiculous. The event started while guests were still coming in and a few of the officials hadn't arrived. The Star-Spangled Banner was sung by a guy who went at such a high speed and pitch that he stopped three quarters of the way through it to figure out how to continue.

Despite the flaws in execution (and there were more than these I've mentioned). This graduation was the first one for many of these guys and it was worth it to see family and show them who they are growing into. There were many proud mothers and fathers who beamed as their grown sons walked the "stage". I'm glad that the prison put the time and effort into making the event happen. Even that small investment can make a huge difference for some of these guys.

It's coming on Christmas, They're cutting down trees, They're putting up reindeer, And singing songs of joy and peace *

It's coming close to Christmas. That means it's time to get to work on Christmas cards. Late last week I took out some books and magazines to find inspiration. After a few hours of searching, I came up with a few ideas that I sketched out. From the sketches, I drew up two templates - one fairly simple and the other a bit more fancy. Once the templates were finished, it was time to transfer them to the cards. The fancy template took about twice as long to transfer and finish up, so I decided to only do a few of those for family, and use the simpler one for everyone else. Even then, each card takes about an hour to make.

Last year I put a poetic Christmas prayer on the back of my cards, but I had trouble coming up with anything worthwhile this year. When I saw my parents this weekend, we spent some time talking about advent, which spurred me to read the traditional advent passages of Scripture. The pattern is obvious, so I took the Scriptures and rewrote them as a short poem.

Now that the two elements are complete, I can move forward making and sending out all the cards. I'm planning to send out twice as many as last year, so I should be busy this week - in a good way.

* River - Joni Mitchell

Choosing to be guilty

"Was it better to be guilty of sin while knowing there was a power that had punished you? Or was it better to be innocent and feel there was no power? Was it better to be lost in a horrid storm at sea, knowing there was land, or be sailing peacefully with no certainty of land anywhere?"

"For myself, I decided I would rather be guilty."

- Sherri S Tepper, Shadows End

Tonight was my first practice playing guitar with the worship team here. After meeting people and getting my hearings on the unit, I told the guy who leads the choir that I have experience leading worship and, if he wanted a guitarist, to let me know.

Like at San Saba, I didn't want to play unless they really need someone. I am content to be out in the crowd praising without any pressure. The choir leader, Porkchop, told me to go ahead and request to be put on the team. Because they already had a guitarist and two keyboardists, I pretty much dismissed it.

During the next week, a friend of mine, Lelan, said Porkchop wanted me to join and asked if I had dropped the request yet. Nope, I hadn't dropped it off and wouldn't until there was a need for me. Yesterday I was met by both Porkchop and Lelan, who runs the sound board, and asked if I had put in the request. No. Come to practice tomorrow anyway. Alright. I guess they really want me in there.

I showed up tonight not knowing what they expected me to do since they already had a guitarist, so I asked. Just grab a guitar and put rhythm in. They went off into songs I didn't know and I stood lost with a guitar in my hands. I gradually picked out notes and started picking along on the guitar. I am a self-taught guitar player and know very little music theory, so it's tough for me to fit in unless I know what's going on. This first practice was rough for me but Porkchop said I'll be great and to give it some time.

Two New Old Friends

Today was a day I had been anticipating for some time. I had the chance to finally meet two women - mom and daughter - that I have been corresponding with for at least a year. It has been really cool to get to know them through writing, but sooner or later I would have to see Sandy and Betsy face-to-face so I could put a voice and personality to the letters.

Moving to this unit so close to home allowed our introduction to come quickly. When I heard from my mom that they would be coming today, I was pretty excited. That excited feeling mutated into anxiety, then nervousness. This would be my first time to meet them, and it takes place in a prison. What kind of meeting is that? Also, I haven't talked with any women I don't know in years. After being around men 24/7 won't it be awkward? As the time drew closer I had all these thoughts going through my head and I wanted everything as perfect as it could be. It felt kind of like a first date with someone you've never met, except in my case it was two someones.

Okay, so I'm waiting in the visitation room for Sandy and Betsy to arrive through the door. Will I recognize them as the people in the photo sent to me? Yep, there they are coming in. Now, are they going to greet with a hug? Yep, arms out from Sandy and a wonderful first embrace. And Betsy, too. We sit at a table and Sandy goes to get snacks. Rumored to be a talker, I was hoping Sandy would get us through the two hours, but now she's gone. What do I talk about?

The first few minutes were strange but I settled into the fact that, yes, these are the same people who had been writing and, yes, they are both wonderful people. We talked all over the place - what prison is like, vacations, living overseas, family, music, on and on. It was as if I had been reunited with two old friends. The two hours flew by far too quickly. As we hugged goodbye, I couldn't help but hope to see them again soon.

Reaching a decision

After my time in discussion with my parents and prayer I've decided to turn down the parole board's offer of eighteen months of treatment followed by parole. There are a number of reasons for my denial and I've tried to meet with the parole guy and warden here to talk with them about my decision. Because I haven't been able to talk with them, I went ahead and drafted a letter to be sent to many different officials (to make sure it gets into the right hands) denying the parole offer.

I had some great supporting material for my decision sent to me by my mom. These letters from counselors and fact sheets from organizations helped back up most of my reasons, putting credentials behind my words. Without those references, I would have a hard time convincing anyone that I had made a sound decision and may have seemed a fool, but God knew I needed help.

Once I finished the letter, I shared it with a friend to get his reaction. "I guess you're serious, huh?" he remarked after reading the letter. " After seeing all that, I probably would have done the same thing if I was in your shoes."

Now I pray that the people who receive the letter will be prepared and open-minded to my decision and that no ill effects come of it.

“In life, unlike chess, the game continues after checkmate” *

Usually my workout partner, Doc, and I will go outside to run for a bit after we finish hitting the weights, but lately it's been too wet for us to go outside. Instead, we've been doing a full workout - body and mind - on the chessboard.

I haven't played chess in about two years. I played a bit in the county jail but there was an unbeatable player who ruined it for me. Most everyone else I've seen since has had attitudes while playing. Doc has been playing for a while, so he figured I needed a handicap. He grabbed a medicine ball and said that for every piece a person takes, he must do twenty pushups on the medicine ball.

We started playing pushups chess a week or so ago and do different exercises with the ball each time - sit-ups, throws, one-armed pushups. I'm still not a very good chess player or strong guy, but at least now I'm doing both at once.

* Isaac Asimov

This Thanksgiving has been great. Even with the big decision looming, this year was far better than the past two. Sure, I missed the family and home-cooked food, but not as much as I have in the past. I think it's been the guys over here who I've been able to share time with that have made it easier.

Our meal today was quality food. The meat was a large slice of smoked turkey. The sides were stuffing, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes and gravy, rolls and yams with brown sugar. For dessert we received a Styrofoam "doggie tray" filled with a slice of pumpkin and pecan pie and a cottage cheese and fruit salad. Since we would not return to the dining hall for dinner we were also given a johnny sack with a banana, slices of bread, cheese, peanut butter, carrots and celery. All the food tasted wonderful, except the cottage cheese stuff and the celery. I've never liked celery, though.

I was very grateful for the food I got. I am also thankful for the support and prayer of family and friends outside these walls. I hope your holidays are filled with blessings great and small.

Guidance

Sunday morning at church I saw a face I didn't ever expect to see again. My friend, Heinz, left for INS (Immigration and Naturalization Services) court last week to hear whether he would be allowed to stay in the U.S. or be deported to Germany, where he hasn't lived since the age of five. INS decided to let him stay and we praised God together.

After the service, I told him about my parole answer and asked him to be praying for me to have guidance on my decision to accept it or not. He said that he would definitely be in prayer and asked if I would like to fast with him. I said yes and that it would be for Monday and Tuesday.

So, over the past two days I have fasted, acknowledging God's sovereignty over the situation and asking that my decision would be in accordance with His will. I chose Psalm 5 as my prayer. Both days were spent in prayer, reading and singing. I'm glad my cellmate is gone during the day because the solitude was great to have.

This was the first fast I've done since high school that I can remember. There were a few guys who asked why I was giving away my food at all the meals. I did get hungry and was lightheaded during my light workout. But the time with God was awesome.

Now, after eating with Alan and Chris to break the fast, I don't feel like I was given a direct answer on what my decision should be, but I do feel a peace in my leaning toward turning down the treatment. And I know I will have Him with me along either path.

More questions

"Twelve bottom! You have a lay-in!"

As I signed my initials on the lay-in sheet to acknowledge my reception of the lay-in. I saw the word "parole" beside my name. Earlier than expected but hopefully I'll get an answer instead of the delays I've seen with some guys.

Talking with Alan a few nights ago, I remarked that I wouldn't even mind getting a year set-of. I've definitely been growing in this place God prepared for me, physically and spiritually. I'd rather be home, but I could be comfortable here close to home, learning so much.

I went down to the parole office this morning and waited in line for a few minutes for my turn to see the unit officer. There was a weight on me as I saw several men's futures told to them bluntly through the windowed steel door. A few guys couldn't hide their reaction and their faces told the story upon exiting.

My turn. I walked in, sat down, and answered the officer's question of how I am doing today with nervous , excited anxious and hopeful.

"Don't be nervous," said the officer. Yeah, right, I thought. You're holding my future in your hands right now.

I handed him my lay-in and he searched the stack of parole answers for the one with my name on it.

"I don't know how you're going to take this," he said as he passed the sheet across his desk to meet my hands. "You got an FI18. I think you should be happy, but some guys aren't."

In my head I did a fist pump of triumph. I made parole.

I figure you can make parole when the justice system was heavy-handed to begin with. But even now I was given an F!18 parole on condition that I complete eighteen months of treatment. After a quick calculation while I was walking back to my pod, I realized that not only would I be getting home only ten months early, but the eighteen month is longer than half of the time I've completed. The excitement drained faster than a frat boy's keg. How am I going to handle this?

There was a pretty cool event going on here this weekend. An outside ministry called Bill Glass' Weekend of Champions took over the rec yard with Harleys, a NASCAR car, a high-wire act, and several men who have been world champs in their respective sports - football, kickboxing and NASCAR. I'd never seen such an event take place in prison and, though I'd heard of them, I guess I thought they didn't happen anymore.

Before the event yesterday, many of the volunteers for Bill Glass came to the pods and went to lunch with us. It was strange to see men and women decked out in riding leathers walking the hallways with inmates, but very cool.


When we went out to the rec yard, the bleachers were pulled out of the gym and were filled with men in white (the TDC inmate's only choice in clothing.) The motorcycles were revving loudly. Dust clouds lifted as one rider did burnouts in the dirt, leaving a black spot in the light clay soil.


A man stepped up to the microphone, said a few words, then introduced the first speaker, an offensive lineman for the Super Bowl champion 49ers. He gave his testimony of how he came to Christ after chasing money and fame for much of his career. Looking around, I saw many men leaning in to hear each word. After a closing prayer, he invited the volunteers to grab about six guys each to speak and pray with.

I don't know how many guys came to Christ or rededicated themselves, but I think the love that all the volunteers showed in bringing their motorcycles and themselves to talk with prisoners affected many. I didn't go to any of the other talks, but there was definitely a buzz on the unit. I'm glad to see God's people doing God's work in a place like this.

"Tell me something good."

There's a guy a few cells down that has been in and out of prison for much of his life, but has developed a relationship with Christ over the past few years. Chris has a lot of knowledge and is still working on some behaviors, as many of us are. He is Alan's coworker in the kitchen supply, so they have a pretty good friendship. Often, when they come back to the pod after work, Chris will come to our cell and talk with Alan about the Word or how the Word applies to something one of them is dealing with.

Usually I'm just reading with the headphones on, trying to get into their conversation, but the past few nights Chris has pulled me in, always asking for me to "tell me something good." After telling him something generally good the first time he asked, he responded that he wanted to hear something I had read in the Word. Whoa! I haven't been in a place like this with people like this in a long time, if ever.

After telling him I had read that day, the three of us went into impromptu study right there. A few nights of this have gone by and I'm realizing I'm not being fed well in just the dining hall, but also back in my cell.

Where two are gathered... *

At a Bible study last week the leaders showed a short video about manly men as soldiers of Christ needing to come together for support and accountability. The video seemed a bit contrived, but it did get me thinking. There's not really a a place I can go for support or accountability here.

In the days since, I felt God telling me to get with my cellmate, Alan, for prayer and fellowship. The last time I heard from God about a prayer group, the group was taken away a week later. Even though it took a few days before making up my mind to ask Alan if he wanted to join me, I knew I had to say yes to God.

When I asked Alan last night if he was interested in praying before we went to sleep, he was pretty excited about it. Boy, this situation with my cellmate keeps getting better. We shared our concerns and praises, then prayed over them. Both of us called out, "I love you, Lord." after the "Amen." There was certainly a peace in our cell as we went to sleep last night, a peace that I hope continues as long as we are here.

* "For where two or three come together in my name, there am I [Jesus] with them." - Matthew 18:20

Phones and family

I've made a few calls home now, talking to my parents and my youngest brother. The phones have been a real blessing in keeping relationships intact. A few weeks ago I asked my parents if it would be possible to have my grandparents over to my parent's house for dinner or something so I could call and talk to them.

Before I was incarcerated I lived with my grandparents in Fort Worth. The only way I've communicated with them has been through letters every few weeks. That's more than many guys get from anyone, but since I plan to return to their household upon release, I want to make the connection stronger. I know a phone call will help reassure them, too.

I had the chance to talk with them yesterday. When my folks came to visit last weekend, they told me I could call while my grandparents were over at my parent's house last night. My grandmother, usually a marathon talker over the phone, took only about two minutes to say how glad she was to hear my voice and how much she missed me. I gave her a quick update of how things are going here. My granddad told me about stuff he's doing and let me know about some computer projects he's hoping I'll be able to help him with soon.

The call closed with a short conversation with my brother about how school and such is going. It was so good to hear from all of them and I hope I'll get to speak with my grandparents more soon, preferably in person outside these walls.

New fitness routine

It's been about six month since I've run or worked out seriously with all the down time here. Not having a real job or classes to keep me busy, I figured it was a good time to start again. I went out a few times last week to do some stuff solo - pull ups, hanging crunches and leg presses - and get used to the new facility. Even taking it easy, I made myself sore and I wasn't able to do near as much as I had previously. I knew I had a long way to go to end up in the shape I needed for the triathlons I dream of doing.

As I was warming up to run yesterday, a new friend asked me how far I planned to run. I told Doc I hoped to reach two miles. Then we set off on the 1/4-mile trail around the rec yard. After four laps I said I needed a break, but Doc told me I had two more laps in me. His pushing got me through those and, after one lap break, he pushed me through the next two to finish the two miles.

Having completed my mission for the day, I was content to continue walking the track but Doc had other plans. We went into the gym and he put me to work. The entire two-hour rec period was spent doing some kind of lifting or moving. Doc was really good at finding good weights for me and also pushing me to complete the sets. Without even trying to, I had found a good workout partner. I look forward to killing myself on the weights, getting sore enough to waddle and stand stiffly, and eventually getting to my desired fitness level.

Mystery Man

For much of the day I had a mystery cellmate. I was moved out of the new arrival dorm into a more permanent spot. When I dragged all my stuff into the cell, I saw all the signs of an inhabitant but nobody around. No one claimed to be my cellmate in the dayroom either. After I finished unpacking, I went to the library to ask about a job.

When I arrived on the unit the education coordinator told me she would look into the library job and let me know if it was available when she called me in later that week. I still haven't been called in, so I figured I would go straight to the source. The librarian told me she could use an extra person. Step one complete. I happened to see the education coordinator in the hall and asked her if she remembered my request. She said yes and wondered if the librarian needed anyone. I told her what the librarian had just told me. About twenty minutes later the librarian came to tell me "Looks like I'm going to be your new boss." Step two complete. Now I wait for the job slip.

Back at my cell with a new book to read and new hopes for a better job, I still didn't see my cellmate. Who could it be? What's he going to be like? From the artifacts I could see - a Bible and Christian books - I gathered some idea. There as the call for rec so I was off again. Maybe I'd find out who the mystery man was when I got back.

No such luck. Even after dinner I didn't know who I was going to be living with. It wasn't until after my Bible study this evening that I came home to another person in the cell. The mystery man was here. He is a young Christian guy, both physically and spiritually. He told me he has education in the morning and works the rest of the day in the kitchen. It looks like we'll click well.

This spot seems perfectly prepared for me. I have the cell to myself all day for reading, writing and study. My cellmate is a Christian who I can both nurture and learn from. We probably won't butt heads much, if at all. It's as if God looked at my personality and habits and found the perfect fit.

God speaks through Weezer

This morning I woke up very early. My clock said 6:30 but, with the time change and an accidental bump in the night, it was actually 4:30. Since it was so close to breakfast time, I rolled out of bed instead of rolling over. After returning from a less-than-filling pancake meal, I fixed the time on the clock, set my alarm for 7:15 church, and slipped back into dreamland.

"Go, if you're wondering if I want you to, I want you to. So make your move..."

Click. My hand slid over to turn off the 7 AM playing of Weezer's new single on the radio. Ugh. I was so tired and comfortable. I really didn't want to roll out of bed again this early. I lay there with the Weezer song stuck in my head, the chorus on repeat.

Wait a second. Those lyrics were a strange coincidence on a Sunday morning when I didn't want to get out of bed, but I could hear God saying those same words to me this morning and over years past. Weezer has been my favorite band for years, yet I never expected River Cuomo's voice to tell me to decide for Christ.

I oozed out of my sluggishness and got dressed for church (nothing special; just my prison whites. It's especially hard to go to church so early here because I'm so accustomed to not doing much during the day anyway. The service this morning was rich though, and worth getting out of bed for. Isn't it usually that way, when we listen to God calling, even from a rock song?

This is my first weekend in Venus and since my folks are down in Galveston for my brother's birthday, they invited some friends to come here to see me. I think my parents were initially met with shock when the friends heard I was so close, then exuberance when they found out they were able to see me so soon.

At all my other units, except Goodman in Jasper, only family was allowed contact visits. All friends could only visit from behind tempered glass windows talking through a phone. So imagine our surprise when we met today when we were able to hug before sitting down at a table across from each other. The wife even sat beside me for a few minutes until a guard came by and told the wife to move to the other side of the table. Throughout our conversation I received slaps on the arm just because it was possible. What a great surprise to learn that all visits are contact. It's so much nicer to talk face-to-face instead of having a glare in the way.

Many of the staff here have said that they are committed to rehabilitation, since this is one last leg before going home. I heard something similar upon my arrival in San Saba, so I was a bit skeptical here. From what I have seen so far, they are actually serious here. I'm going to try to take advantage of any good opportunities allowed so I can cast off the institutional dross I have collected.

First Impressions

Well, I've been here a couple of days now and I guess it's time to describe my first impressions. It would probably take a long time for me to spit out everything, so I'm just going to do a bullet list. Here goes:

• No more "Let's-have-pork-at every-meal'
• A/C: The Texas Necessity
• Fresh fruit, not from a can
• My clothes are my clothes (no unexplained stains)
• Satellite with movies galore
• More weight sets than we know what to do with (medicine balls, too!)
• Flip up your trays and buckle up; the descent to the free world begins here.
• Administration oversees men, not inmates (they want us to succeed, too.)
• Hallelujah! Two or three Christian studies each night
• The shabby chic peeling paint and rust is a thing of the past
• A shower without a timer? You mean I control the water? Cool!
• Only place to absorb vitamin D is at rec (if outdoors)
• Progress toward degree still halted
• Is this cell a broom closet?
• Hey, this window won't open

On the road again - part two

I'm at my new unit now and it couldn't have turned out better unless they released me. But first, the travel.

Again, I was handcuffed to another guy for the bus ride to Huntsville that began at 7:30 AM, had five other stops at various units and arrived at 2:30 PM. We exited the bus and entered one of three cages outside in the transit area. We received johnnies for our first meal since 3:30 that morning.

First I thought we were waiting to be housed overnight or for a few days, but then I noticed some guys getting back into busses or vans. I was standing next to the office and could look through a window at all the paperwork as it came in. I began looking for my name. After about an hour, a sheet arrived that had my name among six others. The top of the paper read "Leaving: Huntsville Unit. Transfer to: Estes Unit." Where is that? I asked around and found out that it is the unit outside Fort Worth that I had wanted to go to ever since I heard about it from a guy in my first chain bus. If I was going to be in prison, this is where I wanted to be, as close to home as I could get and a privately run minimum security prison.

Just from the ride there, I knew Estes was going to be good. Those that were coming with me got on a van with cloth seats. There were only six of us so we could stretch out. The two guards turned on the radio, played with their cell phones and joked around with us as we hit the road. Three hours of air-conditioned travel brought us to Venus, TX, at about 5 PM.

When we arrived, they had trays waiting for us with food far better than any TDC fare. We received three sets of clothing and a laundry bag. No more trading in clothes every day; these were ours until we left the unit or wore them out. I made a phone call home when I got to the dorm and surprised my folks with news that even I was a little shocked by. This spot is a huge blessing.

On the road again

There I was, lying in my bed, listening to the radio and reading my book. My window was open with a nice, cool breeze coming through. The sun had gone down and I was relaxing before my shift started at midnight. this was what I had been looking forward to. It's still prison, but better than San Saba.

Then it was all interrupted.

"Cellie, you're on the chain", called my Mexican cellmate.

"No, not me. You sure?" I responded.

"Yeah, they called your bunk for chain."

This is nuts. I just go here a month ago and only saw parole two weeks ago. The phrase "on chain" means that a person is being transferred and probably comes from the shackles that links inmates to each other on the bus. This is far too soon to be transferred, but sure enough, when I asked the guard on duty, she said it was me that was leaving so I should pack up.

After packing everything and taking it to the administration building to be inventoried, I found out that I was going to Huntsville to be transferred to a pre-release unit. Just because they say pre-release doesn't mean I'm getting out soon. It just means that I'm going to a nicer faciilty, one to ease the transition to the free world. Some people stay at one for more than two years. This was pretty good news, but I still don't my final destination, which I had assumed was my current unit.

I'm leaving all my food behind because I can't fit it into the one onion bag I keep with me on transfer and don't want it to show up in a month if I put it in property. My property from San Saba still has not caught up with me. Now I'm taking my last nap before breakfast here in Dayton. I'll probably leave around 7 AM.

Blind Men

"Ailred, I know hours well enough," I said. "Stick a twig into the soil and watch the shadow turn. Or take old Wear out there. Let him rise another inch or two, and either we'll grow gills or shipwreck sure. That's hours for you. It's inch by inch and hour by hour to death. It's hours gone and hours still to go. No puzzle there. A child can count it out. But what is time itself, dear friend? What is the sea where hours past hours still to pass, but all of them instead was? Is there no time yet to come that's not here now?"

... "You speak of time, Godric," Ailred said. His cough for once was gone. "Time is a storm. Times past and times to come, they heave and flow and leap their hands like Wear. Hours are clouds that change their shapes before your eyes. A dragon fades into a maiden's scarf. A monkey's grin becomes an angry fist. But beyond time's storm and clouds there's timelessness. Godric, the Lord of Heaven changes not, and even when our view's most dark, he's there above us fair and golden as the sun." And so it is.

"God's never gone, my gentle, ailing Ailred said. "It's only men go blind."

- Godric, Frederick Buechner

Phoning home

One of the first things I noticed when I got here were the bright blue phones on the dayroom wall. At San Saba, they had just started putting the phones in. We were one of the last units in one of the last states to get phones. I was glad to see then already in place here.

The phones can only be used to call members on your visitation list and are quite pricey compared to normal minutes. We are allowed 120 minutes each month and each call can be no longer than 15 minutes. We can call collect or use a prepaid debit account that costs a bit less. The most backwards part is that the only numbers we can call are land lines, which rules out all cell phones, the main mode of voice communication these days. I understand security concerns, but that's why they make sure each number is actually registered to a visitor. My family did not have a land line until they found out that was the only way I could contact them.

When making a call, the phone system by Embarq makes us go through several security measures, including voice recognition. In San Saba, a technician came by to get our voices registered. We say our full name, then "Texas Department of Criminal Justice." This is where everyone has the most problems. I had to try close to thirty times when I made my first call before it went through. And the system hangs up on you if you don't clear in four times. Being in a noisy dayroom doesn't help.

The first time I went through to my parent's phone was a couple of weeks ago. There was no answer, as I later found out that the phone was unplugged to keep from getting telemarketer calls until they found out I could call. My first conversation with them was last week and I talked to my youngest brother for almost the whole fifteen minutes. After a few tries, I was able to manipulate my voice correctly and I had a good conversation with my folks.

Today I spent at least an hour trying to get my voice to go through before it worked. Unfortunately, no one seemed to be home on the two times I managed to get through. I guess I'll just have to try again later.

I didn't know when it would come but I knew last night when I got the lay-in that it came exactly two months early. This morning I had my parole interview. I gathered all my support letters and my parole packet to make sure I had all my references right if I got nervous and hesitated or forgot. I met with a representative of the parole board, not an actual board member. Even still, it's a good thing I brought my stuff because I did get nervous and hesitated and forgot.

The representative asked me about my criminal history, job history and educational background. I gave details about my probation violations that got me here - each one technical and self-reported. We moved on to my accomplishments since I've been in prison and I showed her my certificates and college transcripts. I gave her the addresses I would like to parole to and told her my plans including work and college.

Finally she asked me why I should be granted parole. I answered that I have completed counseling and realize how much I have hurt my family. I have matured since my crime (committed at age 14) and have plans to complete a master's degree and serve my community. I also have my family and many friends who are waiting to give support upon my release.

I don't think it was possible to know how it went, but I think it was as good as it could be. I was nervously shaking and was slow with some answers because I was nervous. The rest of the day I've been thinking about things I could have added. Now comes the period of even more nervousness: the excited, anxious, hopeful waiting for an answer. I was told that I would hear back in about three months, but I've seen guys get an answer much faster. It would be so cool to be home for Christmas.

OD on Junk Food

Today I had a great visit from my two best friends from back home in Fort Worth. They have been married since I came to prison and I haven't seen the husband since before I was arrested almost 2 1/2 years ago. Even after all that time he was wearing a shirt I got for him with my employee discount at American Eagle. Some things never change.

They brought a roll of quarters and when the wife asked me what I wanted from the vending machines, I said Sprite and Skittles - my usual for a visit. She said she would get me something else and wanted to know what else to get. "Surprise me," I said.

Well, surprise me she did. She came back with four bags of sweets and four bags of chips in addition to the Skittles and drink. It was a glutton's heaven.

"You better eat quickly if you want to finish it all." she said. After my thanks, I said I would probably have to share some with other guys, which I did. That was a lot of food.

As I stuffed my face with junk food, we caught up on all the goings-on where we are. I told them all about my new unit and I heard how all my other friends were doing. They shared their plans for moving up to Indiana so the husband could take on a short-term missions coordinator position. If it happens - and it looks like it will - they will be leaving next summer. That means I need to get out sooner rather than later if I'm going to spend any time with them. I already missed their wedding. Life goes by quickly out there while I'm at a standstill here.

Positive learning environment

I'm no longer in the same cognitive intervention with the teacher who asserted her own opinion to the point of belittling others and didn't seem to care about us anyway. Last week I went to the principal and asked to be moved to a different class. He asked me to write a couple pages about why I wanted to move and to come back the next day. Well, the next day I was in the infirmary for five hours for nothing and missed class and the opportunity to talk with the principal again. I told my teacher the next day that I had to speak with the principal, but she didn't believe me and made me stay in class. This continued each day until this Wednesday when she allowed me to go during scheduled walk-ins.

I apologized to the principal for taking so long and gave him my pages about the class. He told me to look forward to getting a lay-in for a class change the next day. Sure enough, it was there.

My new class is really laid back. We covered what we needed to within the first hour or so, spent some time talking about strange conspiracies, then watched an MSNBC special on heroin addicts. There wasn't any yelling, profanity, or craziness (except the conspiracy stuff) and the teacher actually treated us and our comments with respect. This is a much better way to waste the three hours each day.

Goodbye to another friend

My coworker, Matt, left to go home on parole tonight. He had to wait about six months from the time he was supposed to leave because it took forever to get an approved address to go home to. It seems like the system does go out of its way to make things difficult sometimes. He has had a lot of anxiety about his release and how difficult it will be to find work and a good social group. He feels like he is too old for college and his record is too much of a stigma for employers to look past. His past experiences with betrayal aren't an encouragement, either.

I've talked with him about my own positive experience and those of other guys I've encountered. While I was on probation, I was encouraged and accepted by friends I made in college group at my church and had a petty good job for a guy my age. I've met guys with felony records that managed apartment complexes, worked as investors ans started their own businesses, I think that if a person wants a successful life and they do the research to find out how to get where they want to be, with proper effort they can get there. Of course, there are some areas a felon can't go into without having their record expunged.

I hope Matt finds a nurturing community that will continue to encourage him to productivity. I think he'll feel better after he's been out a few months. Now I am left to work alone, which I prefer unless I have a good coworker like Matt.

GOAL!

Today was the first time in about a year that I've played soccer. I hadn't played at my last unit because no one else was going out to play. I just stayed inside and worked out on my own. This place is a different story. There are quite a few guys that play. I'm still working out, too.

When I got here I saw a guy from my last unit who I played soccer with. I was one of the better players at the previous spot, so in the first couple weeks of my being here he was hyping me up with all the other guys. I had people asking if I was "that guy" and if I was going to play. There were several weeks of hype before I finally played because I had to repair my shoes.

This weekend I was ready. The field has no boundaries except those that are called. The goals are about the size of hocky or lacrosse goals, which makes for more difficult scoring. Overall, everything is smaller. With the eight-man teams it got crowded, and crisp passing was needed for any success. My touches on the ball were not as sure as usual and I got winded sooner that I expected, but both should be back in the coming weeks. I did manage to score off a great pass, though. I'm just glad to be playing again.

"The radio reminds me of my home far away..." *

Boy, I can't express how great it is to have a radio. For the first time since incarceration I have new terrible pop songs stuck in my head. The best part is that I actually enjoy them in their stupid catchiness. I wonder how long that will last.

I began by listening to classical music on my cellie's radio. I was able to buy my own radio last weekend so I didn't have to wait until he wasn't using his. The radios don't come with antennas so I attempted to make one out of a paper clip and the foil seasoning packets from ramen soups - ramen seems to be useful for everything in prison.That first antenna didn't work too well, so I cut a Coke can into a long, thin strip and jammed it into my window frame. Immediately my station count went from a low one digit number to a high teen, including many in stereo. It doesn't look pretty at all but it works very well.

I got my musical feet back starting with the pop and adult alternative stations. I don't think music has changed a whole lot, but it was almost all intoxicatingly new to me. After admitting to myself that, yes, I did actually enjoy Taylor Swift's and Lady Gaga's music (did I really say that?), I moved over to the rock station to reintroduce myself to great hard guitar riffs from the likes of Chevelle.

Now that I had my mainstream music foundations, I was ready to hit the indie airwaves of college radio from Rice (University). Whoa, maybe I did that a little fast. The crazy time signatures of avant garde stuff was a bit much for my atrophied ears, but after hearing a couple familiar songs from Clap Your Hands, Say Yeah! and M. Ward, I was hooked again.

When I'm not exploring sounds on college radio, I'm listening to the news and familiar radio shows on the public radio station. This evening I closed my eyes as I listened and laughed along with Prairie Home Companion and I felt like I was at home with my family. It was a good serving of comfort food to sing along to "Powder Milk Biscuits."

* Take Me Home, Country Roads, John Denver

The adventure of a visit

I had a very pleasant surprise today. My parents made the trek form Arlington to Dayton to visit me. I didn't think they would be coming so soon, but I was sure glad to see them.

When I found out that I had visitors waiting, I got ready as usual - putting gel in my hair, brushing my teeth, and doing a quick shave. I don't have super white clothes anymore, so I had to figure out which one of my sets of clothes had the least stains. After the prep, I headed out of the dorm and over to the admin building where visitation is held. On the way I realized i had no idea how to get in the building. From my side I saw the mailroom window and a small courtyard with a few palmettos, flowering plants and a koi pond - a koi pond! What the heck? The courtyard was enclosed by a gated chain link fence and had a door at the opposite side that led into the admin building.

Because I had no idea what I was doing, I stood there and looked around like a dunce until I heard - click. The gate behind me had opened to the courtyard. I looked down at it, then looked around to see if anyone was coming. Nope. Guess it's for me.

I moved inside the courtyard, letting the gate close behind me and resuming the dunce pose while wondering what a koi pond was doing in this place. Click. Hey, the admin door opened. I moved into a 5 X 5 room with two new doors. Which one do I go through? I stood there a bit, then - click. These clicking doors have served me well so far, so I guess I'll follow them again. Success! I found the strip search hallway leading to the visitation room.

After a quick strip and redressing, I found my folks. What an adventure! I got to fill them in on all the new stuff going on and hear how everything back home was going. This unit's visitation has windows to the outside unlike the unit I came from that my mom likened to a bunker. What a blessing.

As I write this I can't help thinking that the clicking doors are probably very similar to the way some animals are herded from pen to pen. Hmmmm...

A koi pond?!!!

A new place, a good place

I have been very blessed to end up in a dorm with quite a few other Christian guys. Last Saturday they put together a big meal for all the Christians that included fish, chili, soft tacos and cheese sauce. They invited me even though I had nothing to offer. It was really cool. I hadn't seen anything on that scale since I've been in prison. There were at least thirty tacos and two huge bowls of Ramen, chili and beans.

The guys have a Bible study in the dayroom on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. I didn't know about it until I was asked to join on Wednesday. Instead of a discussion-led study, I encountered an hour and a half-long message on "Who is Jesus?" that seemed more fit for unbelievers, at least those few who would sit and listen for 1 1/2 hours.

After the "study" I was asked by Vega, the gregarious coordinator of Christians, if I wanted to lead on Friday. Sheesh, I just got here, I thought, but I told him I'd pray about it and let him know what I heard the next day. I felt like I was being led to a topic so the following evening I told Vega I was ready.

I took the guys to Jesus' answer to the lawyer's question "What is the most important commandment?" In a nutshell, Jesus replied. "Love God, love people." I asked how we can honor and love God and got some great discussion going with some good examples, too. For loving people, I took them to 1 Corinthians 13 and we worked our way through each characteristic of love - What does a patient love look like? What does a kind love look like? Again, I received some creative answers that I didn't expect, yet fit perfectly. I closed by challenging them to think about how they are loving God and people through the weekend and the next week.

I had a few guys com eup to me afterward and tell me they needed to think about some of the stuff more often. I'm so glad to be in a spot with other beleivers actively participating in the Christ walk.

"Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?" Jesus replied: " 'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.' This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments."

- Matthew 22:36-40

Empty Study *

Last night I received a lay-in to go to a class today. I didn't ask for it, but I have been placed in a cognitive intervention class. This is a class many guys are put in before parole to help them stop themselves before making bad decisions.I don't know if they put me in the class because my parole is coming up soon or not.

The class is three hours long - noon to three - every weekday for three months. It wouldn't be so bad if the class itself wasn't so nuts. About three quarters of the twenty person class just acts up and disrupts the class. The teacher sounds like a public radio talk show host and doesn't seem to care about us but just wants to be right. Looking around the room, I recognized many posters showing techniques I learned in my two years of therapeutic counseling prior to incarceration. I asked the teacher after class what good this class would be for me if I've done most of it all before. Her answer was that "it becomes official."

So, the next three months will have three hours a day wasted so I can get a piece of paper. Just another hoop to jump through.

* "Prayer without study would be empty. Study without prayer would be blind." - Karl Barth

New job, new friend

My job assignment here fits the schedule I had at my previous unit. I am a dorm janitor on the night shift along with my cellie. He cleans our dorm while I clean the one next door. We turn out at midnight and stay out until 5 AM. All I do is sweep, mop and wipe down the tables. I have a co-worker, Matt, so it doesn't take more than an hour to finish. Then we sit around talking, go to breakfast at 3:30 AM, shower and hang out until we can go in. Depending on the guards who are working, we might go in early.

I've also been blessed with a great coworker in Matt. He's a couple years older than me and reminds me of a lot of the guys I hung out with before my incarceration. We have plenty of time to just chill after we finish working, so we've covered all kinds of topics. We joke around, talk about family and old girlfriends. We found out that our charges are similar, both committed at a young age.

Matt is still very angry about how his case was handled and some friends who left him because of it. Like me, he grew up in church, but many people turned on him instead of embracing him like I have been by many folks. I've tried to be an encouragement and I hope he finds some hope for himself. Until then, we'll continue to play catch across the dayroom with balled up socks and quote stupid movies.

A new friend from across the border

Because I am housed in a two-man cell I can separate myself form everyone else when I want to read or study. But that means I have a lot of interaction with my cellmate. Luckily, I have a great cellie from what I can tell so far.

Rivas is a Mexican national who doesn't speak much English. When I arrived he was on his hands and knees sweeping and mopping the cell with a towel. (We've made an agreement that we clean the cell every other day.) He greeted me right away and told me I could use his hotpot and radio whenever he wasn't using them.
This was great because it will probably take me a while to get my own. That first night he gave me some food because I didn't come with any. I didn't even ask for anything.

I can tell I've been blessed with a good cellie. I hope I can be a blessing to him, too.