Way back in May I made an order from a comic shop down in San Antonio for a graphic novel and a couple single issues of comics. The way most comic shops is pretty cool. The huge comics distributor, Diamond, puts out a catalog called Previews each month that contains all the comics that will be released two months later. Customers fill out an order and give it to their local shop for them to pull. Then the customer waits for the release date and goes to pick up the comics. It's almost like the customer chooses the comic shop's inventory.
I expected the order made to come in July, but that certainly didn't happen. Nor did it come in August. In mid-August, I sent a letter to the shop asking what was going on with my order. I didn't receive a reply for several weeks and, when it did come, it was a hand-written letter in bright colored pen - not the formal typed letters I had grown accustomed to from the shop. The letter explained that the shop had new owners that were scrambling to get things in order. My comics would be coming soon, it said; sorry for the delay.
It turned out that the previous owner had misordered a couple of my requests, so the new were waiting for the correct stuff to come in. I sent a list of each of my orders to be sure everything showed up OK, and my mom made a call to the shop asking about progress. I'm a patient guy (a skill I've honed here in prison), but I was getting a it anxious.
Today my first two orders both arrived, finally, along with a huge surprise: the entire first order had been comped. The shop took complete responsibility for the screw-up they didn't commit, and put the money in a store credit. Wow! That's some great customer service, with handwritten letters, too. This shop, Atomic Comics of San Antonio, is definitely committed to their customers and, in turn, this customer is committed to them.
These walls are much too close
Just a slit for seeing out
The window shows another world
A world of sunlight, of trees,
Of ideas, of impact, of life
I try to share this world with others
Their eyes will not see
Their ears will not hear
They continue pacing small circles
Their soles becoming calloused
But I know my eyes don't lie
There is a better world
Maybe I can go there
Be a part of real
Until then I wait
Looking for tomorrow.
"Eww" led to BRAKKABRAKKA, *cough*, *cough*, and "Ah..."
After this region was inundated with rain over the weekend, one o f the drainage pipes started backflowing into one of the main hallways of the unit. The smell was nauseating right outside the main dining hall as a few guys did their best to sop up the mess and squeegee it away..
This unit seems to have been built on a floof plain or former lake because our track floods with the smallest amount of rain. This means the water takes a bit longer to go away and, thus, the stench lingered.
Even though this drainage problem has most likely been present for years, it has always been dealt with in the most typical TDCJ fashion: short-term benefit, long-term disaster. Luckily, we have a new-ish assistant warden who takes care of the things the right way. He called in outside contractors to bust up the concrete hallway and fix the pipe. This shut down the main thoroughfare to the dining hall with loud hammering and clouds of pulverized concrete, To accommodate the traffic, the rec courtyard was opened up for both hallways.
I love having the courtyard opened up. Every time I go to or from work I get to go outside, feel the sun, and get some fresh air. I'm not the only one that enjoys it, either. Another nice thing about the courtyard being open is that is gives us a place to go when my boss leaves the library. Today I was playing a card game in the library during count time when my boss took her lunch break. Normally we would have to stop playing and wait in the hall for count to clear, but today we simply moved to the table in the courtyard. It was great weather, too.
I guess I shouldn't get too comfortable, though. The contractors will probably finish up before the weekend. At least the problem will be solved and I had a nice break from the norm in the meantime.
In a great example of the few screwing up something for the many, I had my hot pot taken last night. This comes in the wake of someone's "fixed" hot pot catching the property office on fire a couple weeks ago.
Our hot pots bring water almost to a boil, but some people ant the max, so they take them apart and short them out so there is no temperature detection. Of course, you have to keep an eye on these because they are prone to catch fire like in the property office.
After the fire - not a big one, by the way - some guards have taken it upon themselves to prevent fires everywhere, which is actually a good thing. The bad comes when some of those officers begin to take unattended hot pots instead of simply unplugging them like most officers do.
Last night I went to church after filling my hot pot with water to cook with when I got back. The water in my pot, at its hottest, will not even blister your tongue. Yet, upon my return from the service, my hot pot was missing. After a near-unintelligible conversation with an African officer, I received my confiscation papers.
I'm not worried about the hot pot because I know I'll get it back on Monday, but it's annoying to have to go through the trouble of dealing with meddlesome guard and no hot cooking water.
Last night I received a surprise when layins were handed out. I was scheduled to have my second parole interview today. Whoa, this is very early. I didn't expect it to come until late next month at the earliest. I guess this just further proves that there is no rhyme or reason to the Texas parole system.
So, after getting prayed up and pumped up, I went to see the unit parole man this morning. I don't even know why they even want another interview. I never see anyone who actually votes on my parole and the guy I did see does nothing more than ask if anything has changed since the last time I was interviewed.
Yeah, stuff has changed. I'm a little older, wiser and more anxious to go home.
In truth, I hate going into these interviews. I feel like I'm going into a test that I've studied hard for, sitting down to fill out all the answers correctly, knowing I should pass with flying colors. then walking out having no idea how I will be graded. If there were a million things wrong with the Texas judicial and criminal justice (misnomer) system - and there are - parole is definitely one of them. I've seen guys with zero disciplinary problems and a zillion self-improvements go before parole and get shot down, while crooked a troublemaker who has been put in higher custody since coming to prison gets to leave. There's no logic to that. If they cause problems in here, aren't they more likely to cause them out there among the community that the system is supposedly trying to keep safe? It's as if the system is trying to justify its existence by showing the community their dangerous criminals while holding back those that can be positive reflections of the system's results. It's beyond me.
I just want to go home.
My logic and computer skills have been put to the test over the past few days. The kitchen clerk recently received the database form his last unit, complete with recipes, menus and inventory control. This is exactly what the kitchen here has been wanting. the only problem is that it was made for a different unit with a different menu and different schedule. The kitchen captain and clerk asked me to modify the database to make it usable for our kitchen.
This is actually a pretty daunting task. Much of the database uses virtual basic to operate, which is a coding language I've never messed with. In fact, I've never coded software; only web pages.
I spent the next two hours on Saturday just getting my bearings. Since I don't actually work in the kitchen, I have to go in on my days off to get anything done. They got lucky this weekend as I was off for Labor Day today. I spent six hours there today converting the schedule and editing the current kitchen menus. I'm still far from finished, but I did get a bit completed. I know it will be a big improvement when I do finish the modifications.
The nice thing about working in the kitchen is that, since I don't actually work there and I 'm doing them a huge favor, I get fed pretty well. They usually have something other them the bland menu items in the back and I also eat at least one more desert there than the norm. If I don't watch how much time I spend in there, I might blow up. The extra food is definitely a good thing though.
