One of my best buddies, Cameron, left the unit a couple of weeks ago to go to a rehabilitation program before going home. I met Cameron in county jail when I saw that one of his letters came from a familiar family name. It turned out that he was dating the sister of one of my old soccer teammates. After that initial connection we found that we shared many nerdy interests like Warcraft and computer hacking (not the bad kind.)
He arrived at this unit several months behind me and we got to know each other better. We have shared both good times and bad (see November 24th entry). While we have very different views of life - he is an atheist while I believe in a living, breathing God - we got along like coffee and cream. He could be bitter, but we always had good conversation.
He just came back to the unit with great news. He took a psych test at the other unit and was told that he did not need the rehab program after all. As soon as he received approved address to parole to, he would be headed home.
This news bodes well for me, too. I am scheduled to do a rehab program this summer and go home in the fall. With this new option I could be outside these walls eating real pizza by mid-May. That outcome would be a definite positive answer to years of prayer from hundreds of folks. Anything to speed release is welcome and I'm happy for Cameron's upcoming release, too!
Usually the showers around here are pretty predictable. Scalding early in the morning, progressively colder as guys wake up, hot again around noon, then chilly going into the evening. It works out nicely because I can wake up and take a shower before work while the water is still piping hot. If I wake up too late to shower before rushing out the door, I can shower during my lunch break when the water warms up again.
Lately, however, the water temperature has been as unpredictable as summer weather in Texas (or any season for that matter.) Even when I woke up extra early I was blasted by a jet of icy needles. Obviously something is wrong with our water heater, but instead of fixing the problem, the administration just introduced new ones.
The "solution" is to allow us to shower in dorms down the hallway that have working water heaters. This creates more work for the officers who have to keep track of who is coming and going, and the inmates, who have to ready an entire clean wardrobe instead of just soap, shampoo and a pair of clean boxers.
And for me, it's weird enough taking a shower in the middle of a dorm filled with guys that know; it's much weirder showering in front of perfect strangers. at least we have 2-foot tall curtains for our nethers. Still, there are some strange folks in prison.
Have I mentioned that I share the label "inmate" with some real idiots? Yes? Well, here's one more anecdote to defend my statement.I was in one of our hallways playing guitar, practicing for a possible talent show for the staff, when a sergeant came rampaging down the hallway. He and two other officers entered a three-dorm pod and shortly thereafter we entered lockdown. The whole unit was locked in their cells all night and I thought we would stay that way for a couple of days, but this morning all was back to normal. Almost.
It turns out that the sergeant had found a hacksaw blade in someone's cell. Why the guy had it I have no clue. This unit is too sedate to need a weapon and I can't think of anything else to be made with a hacksaw. I thought we would be back on lockdown at lunchtime because the maintenance records showed fifteen blades missing. Goodness!
Of course, I'm surrounded by idiot inmates and the records had been messed up by one of the maintenance workers. Blades are some of the most sensitive items in the department, for good reason, and the care of them was like that of the stepmother toward Cinderella: just forget about it.
Seemingly small mistakes can have far-reaching impact around here. I am often lambasted by other inmates for taking my job seriously, but they don't realize that a few slip-ups can ruin the library for everyone. I know inmates aren't generally thought of as bright individuals, but I wish at least common sense was a little more... well, common.
*From "How Stuff Works.com"
I had a real treat yesterday. I got a visit from a friend I hadn't seen in nearly four years and we were able to talk for nearly four hours.Eric is a friend that I met at the church I attended. While working on a degree at TCU, he also played drums for our college worship band. Through the whole legal process he has been a big support and we have kept in contact through letters during my entire incarceration (even if some of our correspondence had long breaks in the middle.)
After he graduated Eric did some traveling in Central America and ended up settling in Columbia teaching English. My letters are scanned by my mom and emailed, and his replies are received by my mom via email, printed out and mailed to me. Not the most elegant way to communicate but it works.
Last week my boss got a call from her mom, the warden's secretary, and asked me,"Who is Eric Tabone?"
"How do you know that name?" I responded with much surprise that she knew my friend's name.
"He just got a visit approved for four hours."
Awesome! Two weeks in the states and he's got me on his itinerary.
When I saw him yesterday he was the same Eric I remember, maybe a little slimmer than the last time I saw him. We jumped into conversation like we hadn't missed a beat. I got to hear all about Columbia and his plans to start his own business teaching business English to employees of multi-national corporations. And I shared my experiences from behind these walls. It was a really fin time and it made me even more anxious to get out and share conversation with more friends. I got a lot of encouragement from him.
It's friends and family that have made this experience bearable through letters, cards and visits. And Eric is no exception.
"Always with you this freedom! For your walled-up country always to shout 'Freedom! Freedom!' as if it were obvious to all people what it wants to mean, this word. But look: it is not so simple as that. Your freedom is freedom-from: no one tells your precious individual U.S.A. selves what they must do. It is this meaning only, this freedom form constraint and forced duress... But what of the freedom-to? Not just freedom-from? Not all compulsion comes from without. You pretend you do not see this. What of freedom-to. How for the person to freely choose? How to choose any but a child's choices if there is no loving-filled father to guide, inform, teach the person how to choose? How is there freedom to choose if one does not learn how to choose?
"Now the story of the rich man.
"The rich man who can afford the cost of candy as well as food for the children.: but if he cries out 'Freedom!" and allows his child to choose only what is sweet, eating only candy, not pea soup and bread and eggs, so his child becomes weak and sick: is the rich man who cries 'Freedom!' the good father?"~ David Foster Wallace,
Infinite Jest
