Prison Pete

Happy New Year

2012-01-21T14:43:00.000-05:00

I know there are still people following the blog, and I've gotten a few emails lately asking what is going on with Pete.

I got a short letter from Pete a couple of weeks ago. He is still in a NY State prison. Last summer his parole was denied, and at this point he won't be released until 2014 at the earliest, or as late as 2019 if he serves his full sentence with no time off for good behavior.

He apologized for not writing but explained it as he is in a real funk and just trying to pass the time working and sleeping. He has been working the overnight shift in the prison laundry, and then sleeping during the day. I suspect this is to avoid interaction with other human beings as much as possible. I think if he could just sleep non-stop like Rip van Winkle until 2014, he would.

He promised to write again soon and maybe restart the blog, but we've heard that before. There isn't much I can do if he doesn't write.

I monitor email and the blog comments occasionally, and I'll post an update here if I have any news.

-- The Editor

Status of this blog?

2011-11-15T12:43:00.000-05:00

Over the last year or two I have heard from Pete only sporadically. The last few letters have been of a personal nature which he asked me not to post to the blog. I have not heard from him at all in about six months. I know he is still in prison, but I have no way to contact him. All I can do is write letters and hope that he writes back. Lately, he has not.

-- The Editor

Off the gravy train.

2010-05-02T22:48:00.000-04:00

I am so blue. But what else is new. Ah nothing like a little poetry to open the letter.

I just finished typing a short letter to good old immigration for one of my fellow inmates that is going to be leaving this country after he gets done serving his time here. He has been in the country since 1992, and came in on some ship arriving in NYC. He can barely speak English. Seems weird that one can live here so many years, not speak English and yet have some sort of a life.

We had to fill out a form that is titled Information for Travel Document or passport that immigration sent him. He thought he arrived in 1995, but then when he showed me a copy of his RAP sheet; he was arrested back in 1992 for some misdemeanor charge. He does not have a long rap sheet at all. While filling out the form he mentioned he has two daughters. Both are living in the Bronx, same building, to different mothers, age 4 years old. Go figure.

Okay, so now two American citizens will never see their Dad again. Or not. Perhaps he will manage to get back in the country. Hey if a non-English speaking petty criminal illegal alien can get some from not one but two different women (at the same time, it appears) maybe I can still find love somewhere? But then again, maybe not.

I am now officially off the gravy train of the mess hall payroll. Not only did a few officers get tired of me getting paid to stay away, they refused to give me a job working the same hours I was originally hired for. I just finished a week that had me working the three meals. The problem with this is that I end up missing out on going to the chapel for two of the four available program hours. It has been over a year since I have actually worked there so I guess I should be grateful.

Even if I decided to work the hours they gave me, it would have only been short term. Several of the officers there were heard multiple times plotting my ultimate removal from the mess hall. This talk in front of other inmates puts a nice big target on my back, and would have ended up with me receiving some sort of bodily harm. The term Dead Right comes to mind. Yes, I could certainly do the work, but I was not wanted even doing jobs that were at the bottom of the list.

I am now officially a dorm porter and Chapel clerk. These are the same jobs I have been doing all along, but now I will be getting less money. But more on that later.

Earning My Keep.

2010-04-03T08:45:00.000-04:00

I just received last Tuesday's NY Times, with all the gory details of the wind and rain storm that hit your area (I think) earlier last week. So please break the cycle and let me know if you managed to escape any major damage.

On a personal update basis I have been really fighting this major depression. I have been wandering around in a limited emotional engagement mode. I just have very little reason to take care of myself. I even have been showering only once a week. Good thing it has been nice and cold.

I have been doing a bunch of programming on the computer in the library area. I think I may have mentioned they have a whole security install going on it. It only has Word and Excel and on the initial install they locked the user out of even being able to change the date and time. And the system date is set to sometime in 2002.

They have started a new call out procedure that I will elaborate on soon, but for now I am working on build a database program using Excel. That is efficient. They had removed the open file from the File menu, and the icon was missing from the toolbar too. How the hell are we supposed to keep the various lists of inmates participating in the various programs from week to week if I can not open a previous file?

Since the bane of Microsoft is the multitude of paths one can take to complete a task, in this case it pays off. I was able to execute the toolbar customize dialog and add the open file icon back on to the toolbar.

On the really dumb and stupid game playing front, I was called down to the Mess hall on Friday and told by one of the officers there it was time for me to earn my keep. While it is true I have been getting the grand total of $13.00 a week for not showing up, my new job description is "Table Tops". We have four man stainless steel tables, and I get to wash them as one group leaves and another comes in to eat.

I managed to catch the Food Service manager and asked him if this meant I was never going to be programming again. He said this was just a way to get me back in the building as it were and get the staff to see me working. Like the terrific programming they use all day long is not enough of a sign. So anyhow I am now seeing how long this manual labor will last.

Still no major revelations from my brother and basically the only mail so far this year was your one letter, okay one pre-letter, one main letter, and lots of notes and letters from Abby.

Please let me know about the storm soon. Thanks.

What Is A Need, and What Do You Need?

2010-03-28T11:34:00.001-04:00

A recent New York Times Sunday Magazine article on the author James Patterson included the following quote from him:

"I have a saying. If you want to write for yourself, get a diary. If you want to write for a few friends, get a blog. But if you want to write for a lot of people, think about them a little bit. What do they like? What are their needs? A lot of people in this country go through their days numb. They need to be entertained. They need to feel something."

There is that word again, need.

As you may have read on this blog, being able to prepare your own food is a big deal in prison. For most of the last thirteen years, I have been able to prepare at least one meal a day for myself. I have been blessed with both financial and emotional support from my parents. Now that is no longer the case and that has radically altered the way I exist here.

I am not complaining or looking for a pity party. Hopefully I can use my current circumstance to explore with others what our individual needs are and how we meet them. You might think that would be easy but I challenge anyone to be able to define what another human's needs are. Think about it -- life would be a whole lot easier if it was that black and white.

Okay Pete, here is a list of your needs, and here is the package that contains all your needs. How cool would that be? Some of you may say I am in that position now. Doesn't the prison meet all my needs?

Upon my arrival in the NY State Correctional System, I was issued three sets of clothing. Each set consisted of a pair of pants, a short sleeve button shirt, poly/cotton blend T-shirt and boxers, and a pair of socks. In addition, I was given one of each of the following: a winter coat, long sleeve sweatshirt, hand towel (large size or small bath towel depending how you look at it. It measures 20" X 40"), a washcloth, a thin blanket, a pillow and pillow case, a long sleeve button up white dress shirt. Also two twin-size flat (as opposed to one fitted, one flat) sheets.

I did not mention the footwear. That was an area where my needs did not match what the State normally supplied. I happen to have extremely wide feet. (The better to perform my walking on water trick.) My feet usually fit into a size 12 EEEEEE (that is six E's) shoe or sneaker. The short term solution was not to issue me the normal heavy duty work boots, and simply give me a larger pair of lace up sneakers. The closest size that I could get into turned out to be a size 14.

The problem with these was that my feet still pushed out the sides, and there was more sneaker out front of my toes then should have been. Eventually I was provided with both a pair of boots and sneakers ordered from a special supplier of wide footwear. The point being that it took a while for "the system" to provide for my needs, which admittedly are not the norm. Instead of the cheap canvas low-top no-name sneakers (at one point they were dubbed "Air Pataki's", I have not heard them renamed, "Air Paterson's") I ended up with an $85 pair of New Balance Walkers (leather uppers).

On the one hand, my needs were different than the average inmate, but it was a need that was easily quantifiable once they put my foot in the shoe size measurer. All our needs are not that easily defined.

Now as far as the clothing goes, I happen to be a "brief" man. (Although that might not be readily apparent from some of my writing.) Also I tend to be more comfortable with 100% cotton close to my skin. Luckily, in both the federal and NY State systems, you are allowed to purchase 100% cotton underwear.

In the federal system you are not allowed to receive any items from the outside world, but the commissary carried a full selection of 100% cotton underwear for purchase, provided you had some personal funds. While the prison provided underwear, they recognized that not everyone would want to wear what they issued.

In NY State you are allowed to order certain items from outside vendors, and as luck would have it, 100% cotton underwear is one of those items. Once again, as long as you have some personal funds, you can clad yourself in cotton comfort. Ahhhh, it feels so nice.

That is one solution to meeting a person's needs, give them an option. Of course in the case of the underwear, it is only an option for those with personal funds.

There are over 800 inmates here, ranging in age from 17 to over 65, weighing from around 100 pounds to over three hundred pounds, and each inmate is given exactly the same amount of food. One scoop of this, one cup of that, four slices of bread, one spoon full of veggies, etc.

In the federal system, you were able to serve yourself as much beverage, vegetables, beans of some type, and rice or potatoes as you wanted. If you wanted to pass up the main entree being served you could still build a healthy and satisfying meal with the beans as a source of protein. The entree was portioned controlled; two hamburgers, a piece of fried chicken, or two slices of meat.

In NY State all meal items are rationed. You are even limited to one 8 oz. glass of Kool-Aid with each lunch and dinner. For the breakfast meal you can have up to two 8-ounce cups of milk.

The main problem I have with the food here in NY State is the abundance of carbohydrates and lack of protein. I need protein! I can tell when I am not getting enough protein; my brain just does not function at peak efficiency. Yes there is protein in most foods, but when you have to eat a ton of extra carb calories to get the protein, that is tough on the waistline.

For example, this evening I had a bowl of black bean soup. Soup may be stretching it a bit. I opened up a sixteen ounce can of black beans, added one medium sized onion, some black pepper, oregano, and garlic powder, a dash of ketchup, and nuked it at 60% power for five minutes. I topped it off with some crushed saltines and Parmesan cheese. The can of beans provides: 420 calories, 28 grams of protein, 0 fat, 21 grams of dietary fiber (84% daily requirement), and 52% of the recommended amount of iron.

Now compare that nutrition wise (and cost) to a Big Mac or a Whopper and see what a difference that is. The cost of this meal is 55¢ for the can of beans and maybe another 15¢ for the onion and spices.

Drastic Cutbacks.

2010-03-25T09:09:00.001-04:00

I received your card and accept your apology for not writing, with one caveat. You mentioned receiving a couple of letters from me in January, but failed to mention the correspondence that headed your way back in December! I did not realize my letters to you carried an expiration date. If my memory is working, with the exception of the Christmas card, your last letter to me was written way back in November of 2009.

I have been forced to cut back drastically on my commissary purchases and am missing the freedom of eating when I am hungry as opposed to when the chow hall is serving. I am still doing a few meals of beans or octopus with pasta, but without all the extras and only 3 or 4 times a week.

I need to gather all my letters from the last few months, along with what posts I have sent and get back in the saddle as it were. My only hope for the future is building some sort of support system through the blog or at least bulk up my writing so that being able to publish something in the future is not just a pipe dream.

I did finally get a short note from my brother yesterday. It was the first time I had heard from him since his initial letter. The note said:

Pete,
Mom requested I send this $100 money order to you. Overall she is doing o.k. She tends to sleep a lot and her memory fades in and out.
Take care of yourself,
Bill

"Trying again, last envelope was returned, because I forgot your ID #"

I still have no idea what Mom is aware of; though it is apparent she remembers that she used to send me money. Since this was a second attempt, I wonder if Mom is thinking of the $100 as a monthly thing. The New York Times is still arriving. It would be great to know what to expect so I can budget accordingly, but hey I will work at assuming this will not happen too often. Eating in the Chow hall sucks.

I would love to work together on dreaming up possible revenue streams for you to give you some options if the "expensive American white guy" thing starts to cave in and your job gets outsourced to India.

So Alone....

2010-03-19T08:52:00.001-04:00

It is Christmas Day, 2009. This is the first Christmas that I have not had any contact with my parents. As some of you know, my dad died last year in September, but I still had contact with my mom. This past September my siblings felt that it was in Mom's best interest to move her into an assisted living facility.

I know that her memory was not the best, but I am not sure if it is only the short term memory. At this point my only point of contact is with my brother and he has only written to me once in the thirteen years I have been in prison, and that letter came in October of this year telling me that he had moved mom into the assisted living facility and was only writing to me because Mom told him to.

He did not tell me the address of where our mother is, saying that he would bring any letters and cards I sent to her when he went to visit her. I sent out a letter to him, including one to Mom, on November 1, and since then I have not heard anything.

This is one of the most vexing problems for a lot of people in prison: contact with family members. There is often a lot of tension, bad feelings and emotional confusion when a member of the family ends up in prison. Sometimes it is seen as a badge of honor. Sometimes there is a sense of gratitude that an out of control family member is getting the "help" he or she needs.

At the recent Residents Encounter Christ weekend we heard from one mother whose son was suffering from drug addiction. Since being incarcerated, he has turned his whole life around, taking every program he can get into, including college classes. His mom told us, with tears in her eyes, she is so grateful to have her son back. Even though he is still incarcerated!

That is one of the rarer success stories. It is not always the case where parents and other family members are willing (or able) to provide the very much needed emotional support for an incarcerated family member. While it is true that all our needs are supposed to be supplied by our keepers, reality presents a much different picture.

Up until this past September, I have been blessed with parents that have supported me both financially and emotionally throughout my journey as an incarcerated person. It is really up to family and friends to provide the emotional and other support that an individual needs.

Yes, we are all provided "three hots and a cot." But there is no way any system can provide all an individual needs. That is exactly the problem. Individual needs. The very words "individual needs" would be tough to put into the same sentence with the word system.

It is my opinion, backed by thirteen plus years on the inside, that one of the most common holes in an inmate's life is having his or her individual needs met. A lot of the time the problem is compounded by an inmate not even knowing what his needs are. I suppose a definition of the word need is in order.

Run and Hide.

2010-03-14T20:53:00.002-04:00

As you can see, the enclosed blog post has been around far awhile. It has been typed and ready to go for more than a month, and was waiting for the rest of the thought to finish it off.

I have done little so far this year but run and hide. I am having a hard time emotionally, but am not wasting time just whining about it. True, running from a problem does not lead to solving anything, but on the other hand neither does whining.

My basic time fillers have been reading, 15 books since January l; running up the hill to the chapel, usually two to three times a day, four or five days a week; and last but not least, countless hours mopping, waxing and buffing floors.

I have not heard from my brother, and at this point it seems fairly clear that he will not be writing to me at all. I have also lost all hope that any of my worldly possessions, tools, clothes, etc. will be available to me when I get out. It would appear to me that all I have to look forward to upon my release is what I take with me from here.

As far as human contact goes at this point it is down to Abby and you. I guess this is as low as I can get so I better start the rebuilding phase soon! I have plenty to say, I need to let it all out and see what develops.

I am wondering if the blog is really the place to write the true inside prison story. Oh yes, plenty of mano on mano sex, gambling away all my money, beating up on the weaker ones here, etc. Kidding.

Maybe we could go the taxpayer report route. How about how all the overweight staff members continue to belly up to the inmate food bar and stuff themselves at taxpayer expense? Okay just a little bitterness.

I just caught a line in the NY Post about Amy Fisher raising money for Haiti by going nude at some Long Island strip club or something. Apparently this mother of three and product of NY State Department of Corrections is embarking on a cross county strip club trip to promote her personal porn web site. I did read her memoir of her time in the system that includes at least two or three rapes from prison guards. One strange thing in my own life is for some reason I continue to receive the NY Times. I am not sure if perhaps my brother has just not figured out yet that it is going on Mom's charge card or what.

A powerful anchor in my life.

2010-03-10T13:32:00.000-05:00

I have not heard from my brother since his one letter, and I think I sent you a copy of my response. I did send a Christmas card to mom, but have received nothing from them.

Ironically the NY Times is still coming and I can tell from the mailing labels when the next payment is due. It is every four weeks. I wonder if Bill has figured out that it is being billed to mom’s credit card or not. I could write and say okay instead of the paper send me the cash, but to be honest while I know it is expensive, it provides a vital link to a world outside that gives me a little hope for the future. Not to mention the little nuggets I get to share with others.

For example did you catch the story around Thanksgiving about the drama camp that was performing in the Macy's Parade? I know you said you discontinued you daily newspaper delivery, but do you catch it online? The title of the article is around here somewhere on a single piece of paper for me to tell you and I do not know where the note is now. I thought it might be something to look into for your creative non hockey playing son.

Hey I found the note. The article was in the 11/20/09 edition. "Happy Campers Command Stage in Macy's Parade." The name of the camp is Stagedoor Manor Theatre Camp. Not sure if it would be something of interest, but appearing in the Macy's parade is not too shabby a place to be.

Time is fleeting, and I must end this typing session. I could try to continue by hand but it would quickly become unreadable.

Hopefully I will get some more sleep, and continue this letter to you. Then I could easily take the issues in this letter and make plenty of blog material. The one true hope I have still of being of some use to at the least reinforce my sense of self and my humanity, and maybe still, a small but powerful, community of people that can take some part in my future existence.

You are, as always, a powerful anchor in my life. I hope you are not being tossed around too badly out there in the real world. I know you too have pressures and demands on your time, and look forward to any part of that time you can share with me.

Night Porter.

2010-03-09T07:56:00.002-05:00

I have even mentioned the missing night's sleep. I have become the sole keeper of the floors for the day area and much of the dorm. Yeah we allegedly have porters, but this is one dorm where porters get away with not doing their jobs. More on this to follow.

But for the last four or five months I have been responsible for mopping up the day area after 11:30 PM. Then starting in November that included stripping the floors, and now I have put over eight coats of wax on them.

This Sunday evening I decided to not only mop the floors but do some buffing and rewaxing too. Just mopping the floor usually involves at least two or three changes of the water in the buckets. One for the soap, one to rinse.

So after doing a super special mop job I start using the high speed buffing machines to both remove some of the scratches and put a shine back on the floor. I am doing this work all by myself, which is actually a good thing, while all the other inmates sleep.

I finish up around 6:30 AM Monday morning, just in time to make me a bowl of oatmeal and start laying the first three coats of wax in the dorm area. This takes me till about 12:00 noon, and then I have lunch which was another gift of venison, and up to the chapel I go both at 3:00 and again at 7:00 PM for two hours each time to work on the clerk stuff and computer program I am trying to do in Excel, which is a trip since there are no help files installed. But what I can do is record macros, which are shown in Visual Basic, and try to edit them into workable code.

I arrived back at the dorm around 9:00 PM and napped for about 90 minutes, and was back up at 11 PM to mop the floors. I got to bed around 1:00 AM this morning, but was up at 7:00 AM to put more wax on the floors.

Today we ended having our inmates move out of the dorm, and as a result a couple guys got to move into single cubes from the double cubes, and then we had a few new guys come in. So this high tech operation prohibited me from waxing today. I need to get about eight coats of wax to have the floor really shine.

So instead of trying to catch up on my sleep, I ended up heading up the hill to the Chapel at 9:00, 12:30, and 3:00. I finally arrived back at the dorm at 5:00, and around 6:30 was chowing down with a half pound of pasta with octopus tomato sauce. By the way since I have eliminated most of the comfort/munchie type foods from my diet I am down to 206 since September when I was pushing 225!

I tried to disappear for a bit and take a nap but that did not work. So I have pulled out the typewriter and penned this opus to you.

Adoptive Son.

2010-03-08T08:59:00.000-05:00

As I think I have mentioned to you, Ray has sort of become an adoptive son to me. Heck my oldest son is older than he is. Anyhow, for the last couple of months, we have prepared and eaten at least one meal a day together.

Ray is extremely conflicted about receiving financial support from his family, but they are certainly able to provide it. I need to tell you some of the stories Ray has told me, to let you get a clearer picture of his life.

One recent night, he sought me out to talk after getting an emotionally conflicted call from his adoptive mom. His Bio mom is apparently a real jerk. One note is of course I have no outside collaboration which adds a layer of mystery to this whole thing. So Ray tells me it is not fair, I have it all together as to how to handle life, and his life is in total chaos.

Ray's payroll from the mess hall has varied from $14 to $28 every two weeks, so once we decide on the meals for the next two weeks, he would spend most of his money, and I would pick up the rest. In addition I would still get my three boxes of oatmeal, ten packets in each. I use two at a time, and two jars of peanut butter plus two loaves of wheat bread for my lunch. The meals would be pasta or bean dishes.

The point is that now with my funds all but gone, he still has not gotten around to getting in any funds, and while there are a few specific amounts he owes me, it was always assumed that at some point in the near future, he would become the larger contributor. Or not. That is what I deal with: is he for real in seeking out my wisdom and support, or is he a fine tuned con man who has managed to eat well for the last few months at my expanse? It is hard to tell.

Yes, I could choose to not share my resources with others, but that is not who I am. I laugh when I tell others that did not realize when I moved into my cube that it was also the condiment bar for the dorm. One inmate for instance, who is leaving in six weeks, gets monthly packages from home, full $55 buys from commissary, yet he ask me for ketchup to dress up his food bowl. Another inmate that works in the kitchen and has access to all sorts of condiments also asks me for ketchup etc. to dress up the burgers and things he takes back from the mess hall.

Another inmate just tonight said he needs my help. he apparently did something dumb at work in the mess hall and ended up getting a ticket.

Prohibited Behavior.

2010-03-04T23:16:00.002-05:00

One other golden tidbit Ray dropped at dinner tonight was that Darnell and another inmate that lives in our dorm were caught fucking around in a back area of the mess hall. The officer that caught them is the one that Ray said did not want me working there. As a result the one inmate lost his job, but it looks like no penalty against Darnell.

For the record, Darnell is 240 pounds of solid muscle. When I asked Ray if he meant fucking around in the sexual sense as opposed to a more physical horseplay, but also prohibited behavior, he said the sexual. So go figure that one out. In other words, the fucking around was at least consensual, but at worst, Darnell was the aggressor.

Mind you, the truth is such a hard thing to find out around here. I do not know who or what is the truth. Although Mark, heretofore the unmentioned inmate, did lose his job in the mess hall, the really strange part is that Mark is about 80 days from the door. Go figure.

Job Woes.

2010-03-01T08:48:00.003-05:00

So I am not sure if I have mentioned Darnell Biggins to you before. He is the inmate clerk in the mess hall, and in the past has made my life miserable, and made it tough for me to find time to work on the computer once they had taken my personal machine from me.

Today I see him up at the chapel and I happen to mention the $2.00 and change missing from my pay. He says that should not be. I further mention that it appears they have switched my job number, which governs the normal hours I get paid, and the rate. He claims he did not know that it was switched.

It has been going on for over six weeks, and I know he personally fills out the preprinted time sheets with all the hours for each of the 100 plus inmates listed. Since I used to be in a group of six or so inmates listed on their own page, and am now on the regular list with about 65 other inmates, it would be tough to miss.

He is either stupid, or lying to me.

I happened to mention to Ray (Carlton) that I talked to Biggins, and that Biggins said the reason I was still not working was that two staff people did not want me around. One is an officer, the other, one of the civilian cooks. Ray mentions no, it is another one of the officers down there that does not want me there.

Ironically, all of the people mentioned have been there for a while and while I might not be their best friend, I was working with them in the past. The point is that I do not know how much of what Darnell -- oops, so used to staff people calling inmates by their last name -- is saying is possibly the truth, nor what Ray says is the whole story either.

It still amazes me not only that any staff person is willing to look the great gift of my services in the mouth, and how little power John Black, the food service manager has over what goes on in the area he is responsible for.

Are you able to follow any of this, or do you even care? I am not sure how much of this I really want you to write back about, but if you want better (more) detail just ask. I would rather you not mention specific questions just in case your letter does get read on the way in.

Downward Spiral.

2010-02-27T09:26:00.000-05:00

My life of late has been little more than a downward spiral. As I was taught way back when, "Cheer up I says things could be worse." Sure enough I cheered up and they got worse!

You last letter started off with a complaint of lack of letters on my side. I sent two letters in a few days time, and then silence. Okay I know from your Christmas card, you were fighting some bronchitis (why did you wait to go to doctor!) and it was the busy Christmas season so I thought I might hear from you by now. Alas, the old wait for tomorrow trick has now seen twelve days pass. So I am writing now.

I am wondering if I put too many requests in my last letters and you are pissed off? I thought I had told you if you ever feel the requests are too much, skip them. There was the question posed by the person about having me write more about the inside perspective of prison.

I think I have also sent you a copy of the letter I finally sent back to my brother. So I thought there should have been something there to write back to me about. If not, then hopefully something in this missal will tickle your fancy. I hope so; certainly my life has not had many tickles in it.

About the only ray of sunshine in my life has been Abby, and she surprised me with a bunch of books that arrived here at the end of last month! Boy do I remember the frequent, numerous and much awaited book drops you used to make. I no sooner get back from the package room and three or four inmates are already at my bunk wanting to see what titles I got in.

One reason I am writing now, 8.15 PM on Tuesday, is I received my bi-weekly commissary sheet today upon my return from the chapel. For the first time in many years I only have $55.20 in my account. My pay for my no-show job has been adjusted downward to $13.30 per week. My last three commissary buys were for $76.57, $73.85 and $64.37. So with only $13.30 coming in, things are looking really depressing.

Oops has it been ten days since my last letter.

2010-02-25T21:00:00.001-05:00

I am looking at my handwritten letter. Either there is another letter or perhaps I misdated that one. No, in all likelihood my funk has led to delusional thinking that I am writing more often to you than I am. Boy that is a surprise.

I just received a letter from Abby, and she ended up spending a few days in two different hospitals to be diagnosed as having severe stomach problems apparently related to the loss of proper nerve functioning related to lifelong battle with diabetes. The medicine they are giving her is only a stopgap measure, as you are not supposed to take it for more than three months.

She went to a local hospital over the weekend only to end up being transferred to a major medical center within the area. I do not know if you care but she lives in a town apparently in the middle of nowhere, and the nearest hospital can only handle more mundane ills so she was transferred by ambulance to the larger facility.

I still have not heard from my brother, or even my brother acting as the letter writer for my mother. It appears at this point that I am never again going to be able to have a two way communication with Mom.

From the "cheer up things could be worse" department, well sure enough I cheered up and they got worse. I received my monthly statement today and it turns out for some unknown reason my weekly $15.20 pay from my mess hall job had now been reduced to $13.30 a week. On the one hand I should be grateful I have been kept on the payroll without doing any work, but on the other hand, if I am supposed to be paid x amount, then pay me that.

I have to get my ass in gear and answer with more detail the issues I raised on my earlier letter.

Ray and I had a pound or so of venison sausage today in a tomato sauce with a pound of pasta, 1/2 each. There was some extra sauce which is about to have two cans of beans added to it and with a sleeve of saltines become a late supper. It is my second known encounter with deer meat and I have to admit it is pretty good. Of course since it has been years since I have had anything that resembles red meat, this is certainly a treat.

Our regular officer has been off the past two days, (Wednesday-Thursday) and will be back tomorrow so I will probably be doing a whole bunch of floor scrubbing and waxing. Also the 11 PM to 7 AM regular guy is back in a few hours after his two days off so I will probably be up till 3 or 4 am doing stuff in the day area too.

I did get a letter off tonight to Jerry in California, so I will see if that pans out to another person to reach out to.

Oh wait a MINUTE there was another letter which included my response to my brother!

My typing without proofing leaves something to be desired I know. But I figured a few typos are better than no letter at all. I just do not have the patience at this point to proof and retype a letter I am struggling a bit. It seems I am a positive supportive presence in Ray’s life and Abby makes a comment about how I write to her more than her son John and she wants me to write more, that once in a while I need a place to go to recharge my batteries. That place/person just does not exist right now.

On the one hand I want to yell at the powers to be that hey you let me do all that great programming for you for six plus months, you are still using it, I got little benefit for the value you received, and yet you now treat me like a black sheep of the family. Please let me do what I am good at. Let me build up my own self esteem since everything else around here is based on the premise that we can tear it all apart.

So I hope you had a good holiday, I guess you had a few off, and now it is time to think about back to work.

So now that you have gotten two letters this week, I am going to see if I can get some more out to you on Sunday evening.

Letter to my brother.

2010-02-22T10:15:00.000-05:00

Boy do you realize how fast a one ounce bag of Dipsey Doodles can disappear? Plus a can of Ginger Ale that is really part of the next two weeks of treats? I can not just sit here and type without something to munch on.

I know it is not Thursday or Friday! And if being in a funk is still an excuse for not writing then this letter would not be in the typewriter now. I am going to start out with a retype of my letter to my brother.

Dear Bill,

First off let me wish you a delayed Happy Birthday. I apologize for not writing sooner, but have been wondering what to write, I am glad that mom has you to help her out and look after her. I know it is not easy to do and I certainly do not want to add to your burden. I did receive the supplies, thank you for putting the order through.

You mention that Mom is having memory problems and I wonder what the scope of the problem is. I wonder how many of my recent letters to Mom you have seen, and if you have you know there are several questions that I was looking for answers on. I do not know how you feel about writing to me. I am certainly not the same person I was thirteen years ago. However, I will leave it to you as to what if anything you would care to share with me.

As far as the monthly money that Dad and Mom have been sending me, I understand your need to preserve mom's money. I would only ask that if you feel it would match Mom's wishes that you could reduce the amount Mom was sending to me to $200 every three months. In the past Mom has been sending me $100 a month. I will refrain from bothering Mom with any further request for funds as I can only assume that it makes your job harder to explain to Mom where her money is going. I will leave it up to you to decide what should be done. If you would like to further discuss this, great; if not that is great too.

I am enclosing a letter to Mom which I would appreciate you sharing with her. I would also appreciate you sending me the address where Mom is so I can have it for my records. I will certainly mail all my letters to your house.

Bill, thank you for being there for Mom in her time of need. I know you will take good care of her, and make sure she is getting all the things she need it is a great comfort to me to know that Mom has Pamela and you so nearby and I know the appreciates all you both do for her.

Peace and Love,
Pete

There you have it; I did indeed enclose a letter to Mom, and have not heard anything back at this point.

It seems pretty clear to me that my brother will not communicate with me at all at this point and is not even going to bother telling me where Mom is! I am not dealing well at all with this whole thing. I am not as tough as I would like to be.

Letter from my brother.

2010-02-21T13:20:00.002-05:00

I know that I have dropped the ball yet again, but the last couple of weeks have been more rocky and rollercoastery emotionally than usual. One key ingredient to this emotional mayhem is this letter from my brother, which I am sending you a copy of. It is the only correspondence I have received from him since my arrest way back in 1996!

Pete,

Enclosed is a $200 check that Mom requested I send you. We also ordered the last batch of stuff you asked for, which I think you should have received by now.

Mom requested I send you this letter and an update on what’s going on here. Last weekend we moved Mom into an assisted living facility nearby (the next town over). She was very comfortable here, but as her memory has continued to diminish, we felt it best that she go to a place which can ensure she eats 3 meals a day and can keep an eye on her 7 days a week. We are also hopeful that she can meet a few people her age that she can start to socialize with. Overall she's healthy, except for having bad eyesight, terrible hearing and memory issues.

The monthly cost for her new home are rather high, but fortunately, Dad's pension and her pension and Social Security cover most of it, but not all. There is a need to dip into her savings for the balance. Also, we received a letter last week from Dad's pension fund saying that the pension will be reduced 10% in 2010, then another 10% in 2011 to help make up some of the deficit which has occurred over the past year due to the volatile financial markets (Dad's pension is the largest chunk of income she receives each month). Also, the facility told us to expect a 3-7% annual increase. So her savings will dissipate faster come January.

As Mom & Dad appointed me the successor Trustee of their Estate, I am responsible for ensuring that the remaining funds are spent appropriately for the surviving spouse and according to their will. I have already told Mom that she needs to save her money for herself and can no longer send contributions to all the charities who send mail here. As there have been no disbursements from the Estate to Pam or myself, you need to understand that there may not be regular monthly payments to you going forward.

We are continuing to have Mom's mail come to our house, so I can pay the bills and then bring all non-junk mail to her and help her read it. Of course, we will do this for your letters. In the end, it's up to Mom if she wishes to send you any money in cases like this, I will so as she instructs. In my role as successor Trustee, I will make note of any of these disbursements, so that if in the end there are any funds remaining in the estate upon Mom's passing, this amount will be subtracted from any settlement of the estate.

Best regards,
Bill

Mail room workers.

2010-02-20T10:04:00.004-05:00

I am not sure if I mentioned this before but one or two of our distinguished mail room workers love to take a black permanent marker to the postage stamps. Her (or his) way of preventing the "washing" of the cancellation marks. So why the hell did they have to do it to a Canadian stamp? Now I can not even use it for my collection. Bummer.

Well it got me mad enough that I am going to use your postcard as an example to our staff grievance person to prove what is being done and should not be.

It appears you had a great vacation, and somehow I ended up getting not one, but two postcards. I am the lucky one. Yeah, I did get the "Coastcard" from the brewery, and also appreciate the gallows humor, of the "wish you were here" cards. Ha Ha, actually I wish I was somewhere. Prison is just nowhere most of the time.

I have been wallowing in a whole bunch of self pity over the last five weeks or so, and have plenty more to write. You should have a couple letters that I have sent.

There was a long expose in the NY Times about the secondary market for all things show and sports tickets. Instead of whining about it not being fair, what would happen is all of a sudden, everyone decided to refuse to pay more than face value for a ticket. Oops all those "brokers" are stuck with a whole lot of worthless paper,

If an artist or sports team still was able to support a fan base of only those flush with disposable cash, then so what, Eventually, the market would have to adjust, Look what happened to both the Mets and Yankees with their new stadiums. Of course it would take some "team spirit" and an ability to work together for a joint goal. Yeah but this in America, as long as I get mine, who cares about anyone else. That is certainly a very prevalent attitude here in the prison system.

Damn, I have got to get back into the habit of typing drafts. So while the only times of late that my life seems bearable is when I am working on the Chaplain's computer, or getting mail from Abby and you.

I think I mentioned that not hearing from my Mom for the whole month, 1 received a letter the first week of last month. I have not heard from her since. That does not help with my sense of self either.

Food!!!!!!!!!!

2009-09-22T08:12:00.000-04:00

Location, location, location. After spending almost three year of my incarceration moving around from one county jail to another, I spent over five years on top of a mountain in West Virginia at Club Fed. In the federal system the only thing you can have sent to you through the mail are books. That is it. Anything else you need or desire must be purchased through the commissary. And we are not talking about a wide selection of items, certainly no Wal-Mart or even a local bodega or 7-Eleven!

After completing my time at Club Fed, I was taken to spend another eleven to fifteen years in the glorious facilities of the New York State Department of Correctional Services.

One major difference between here and Club Fed is that you are allowed to receive packages. Now you might ask what this package thing means. Slide down into a comfortable chair and I will explain.

There is a list of item that we are allowed to receive through the mail. The list is know as Directive 4911. It is supposed to be available on the department's web site, and perhaps if it does exist my trusty editor will post a link here. Basically we can receive various food and non-food items. For the purpose of this post I am going to explain how the food side works.

While Hollywood's depiction of prison is not always close to reality, scenes that show a bunch of Italians enjoying a feast of various Parmesan entrees and other Italian delights is possible here in New York State.

As a way to celebrate my recent 53rd birthday, I ordered a five pound block of mozzarella cheese among other rare (for in here) food items.

The list of goods purchased follows:
8 oz. fresh Mozzarella w/ Prosciutto (that did not last long)
2 lb block of extra sharp cheddar
1 Italian pizza shell
1 can of escargot (not yet eaten)
1 can blueberries
2 lbs Lloyd's cooked baby back pork ribs
2 cans of Hunt's diced tomatoes
5 lbs. Mozzarella (block)
8 oz. Hormel sliced pepperoni
1 ½ pounds sliced roast beef
1 loaf Pepperidge Farm sourdough bread
2 ½ pounds tomatoes (4 nice large ones)
1 four ounce bag of pre washed baby spinach

This great bounty of food was received on a Friday afternoon. By Friday evening, there were about 12 grilled roast beef with fresh tomatoes and extra sharp cheddar cheese sandwiches on sourdough bread devoured by myself and six of my close personal friends. It is easy to have close personal friends in prison when you are in possession of some really fine NY City deli style (and quality) tender, succulent melt-in-your-mouth roast beef.

On Saturday for lunch, my neighbor and I each had a cold roast beef sandwich with sliced tomatoes and some fresh baby spinach. Since the sourdough bread was all gone, these sandwiches were made on wheat bread available from our commissary.

On Sunday there were ten bowls of baked ziti with plenty of gooey mozzarella cheese throughout and melted on top too. I think I ended up with two of the bowls.

After taking a break for a couple days, with the exception of some great salads with the tomatoes and baby spinach, the next treat was the pizza. This was the one item that started the whole food ordering thing. I had previously received one can of flat anchovies and had been saving them for a time when I could make some anchovy and extra cheese pizza slices.

About a year or so ago our commissary had been selling 8 ounces of shredded mozzarella cheese. For some really dumb reason they switched over to the artificial variety of the cheese, which is really a misnomer since it contains little or no milk and is almost all some type of oil, and does not melt the way real cheese does. So to get around this obstacle, I ended up ordering the five pound block of mozzarella cheese. Again location counts. In Club Fed you are not able to order anything from the outside.

Since we do not have an oven in the dorm, only a stove top, I took our cast iron frying pan, and using a pot cover, was able to cook one quarter of the pie at a time. The first quarter was all mine. First some of those canned diced tomatoes, then a double (triple?) portion of cheese. Without a cheese grater, did you know that dental floss strung across one of the plastic spatulas (slots on the spatula side, and a hole in the handle) so it looks like an archer's bow, makes a great cheese cutter? My fellow inmates thought that was a really smart idea, and it really did let me cut some nice thin slices. The rest of the pie was shared by another five or six friends with cheese and pepperoni.

One week later, Sunday evening, it was grilled mozzarella cheese sandwiches. And yes there was still more mozzarella left.

The blueberries became the topping for two homemade cheese cakes. No, we did not use the mozzarella cheese. We can buy 8 ounce bricks of cream cheese from the commissary. I think about fifteen inmates ended up getting a piece of one of the two cakes. I did major league damage to one of the cakes. Cholesterol, we don’t care about cholesterol.

Oh I forgot the ribs, which was a special meal between just me and my neighbor who also happened to have a birthday in June. Some things are just too good to share.

Honestly it is not really an issue of being too good to share. Two pounds of ribs - including the "rib bones" - is really not all that much rib. I admit I could have easily devoured all the food single handedly (single mouthed?). But then there would be the unavoidable weight gain and the severe damage to the arteries etc. So one might say my sharing was more an act of self preservation as opposed to selflessness.

I suppose you could make a moral tale out of this along the lines of how one little can of fish for Pete became an epicurean delight for many. I am not sure how much the can of anchovies cost as they were a gift from my wonderful editor, but by the time my little catalog shopping spree was complete, I ending up spending around $125. But it was certainly worth every penny. Several of my "friends" are already asking about what I may be doing for Thanksgiving and Christmas. (There may be an earlier post dealing with a baked ham, a turkey breast and a brick of cheddar cheese.)

How was all this food kept fresh? It was kept in a five gallon pickle bucket with ice cubes added (and the water drained) twice a day. Each dorm has its own ice machine. The model we have makes around 212 cubes every twenty minutes, and it takes at least an hour's worth of ice to fill the average ice bucket. Do the math: two hours of ice machine time per inmate bucket, twenty-four hours each day, more than twelve buckets, and the supply rapidly fails to meet demand. Did I mention before that there are sixty inmates in each dorm?

Luckily I managed to finish up the last of the cheese before our mini heat wave hit. I have not bothered trying to get any ice for my bucket at all in the last two weeks.

This has been an annual problem around here. Each summer, the heat hits and the ice machines cannot make ice fast enough. Until the cooler weather returns, I have cut way back on purchasing any food that need to be kept on ice, and I no longer cook or prepare three days worth of food at one time.

I know, life is hard.

Parole Board decision.

2009-09-18T22:39:00.001-04:00

The following is a verbatim transcript of the Parole Board decision I received a little over one hour ago.

AFTER A CAREFUL REVIEW OF THIS RECORD, THIS INTERVIEW AND DUE DELIBERATION PAROLE IS DENIED FOR THE FOLLOWING REASONS: YOUR RECORD INCLUDES A FEDERAL CONVICTION. THE PANEL NOTES RECEIPT OF AN EEC AND LIMITED PROGRAMMING. ALSO NOTED IS LACK OF A MUCH NEEDED PROGRAM SPECIFIC TO YOU. DURING THE INTERVIEW YOU DEMONSTRATED SUPERFICIAL REMORSE AND FOCUSED ON YOURSELF INSTEAD. ALL FACTORS CONSIDERED THE PANEL CONCLUDES THAT IF RELEASED AT THIS TIME THERE IS A REASONABLE PROBABILITY THAT YOU WOULD NOT LIVE AND REMAIN AT LIBERTY WITHOUT VIOLATING THE LAW AND YOUR RELEASE IS INCOMPATIBLE WITH THE WELFARE AND SAFETY OF THE COMMUNITY.

RANDOM THOUGHTS

I guess I can stop using all caps as they do. No mention of the amount of time I have served. Absolutely no mention of my five page inmate statement. No mention that I pled guilty to all charges as opposed to having gone to trail. No mention of the six years of therapy I mentioned in both my written statement and appearance at the board.

The note that I “demonstrated superficial remorse” was a setup question that was mentioned by one of the examiners toward the end. He cut me off and would not let me fully describe the pain and agony I suffer every day. The therapeutic program alluded to is a six month three hour a day thing of very questionable efficacy, and while I have not yet taken it, I have not refused it, so it is not supposed to be held against me. Furthermore, one of the many parole stipulations is that I am to participate in an ongoing program, not to mention mandated polygraph testing.

So here I sit alone, with the added stress of not having heard from my mom yet this month. The last letter she sent was back around June 15. There are two guys who are being supportive, Tyrell Washington, my direct neighbor, and Ray Carlton, the young kid (21), that I have mentioned before. But man could I use someone in the flesh and blood that could hug me now. I am not at all minimizing the impact that you both have on my emotional health, and I am blessed to have your concern, cards, letters, art work. Someday this may all begin to make some sense.

Waiting.

2009-09-18T08:48:00.000-04:00

I have no idea what I will get accomplished this weekend. There may be other letters heading your way before the Monday morning mail pick up, there may not be.

Since this only line of communication is good old snail mail, and even thought this will be sitting in a mail box about fifty yards from where I now sit, I sort of hope that there will be a slight lessening of the oppressive nature of this day.

It is a very weird procedure. I go to a parole board interview on Tuesday, and then hang in limbo till 3:30 PM today (Friday) to find out if I am being told, "Congratulations, you are being kept for at least another two years!"

Could be me, but the conclusions of the Parole board make very little personal sense.

Thanks again for all your assistance and support as I prepared and participated in this folly. It is good to have some real friends out there.

Love is.

2009-07-10T13:56:00.001-04:00

While attending a REC (Residents Encounter Christ) weekend, I heard a great definition for the word love. According to Joe, a very gifted speaker at this event, love is about making a commitment. It is not at all about liking someone, liking someone is about personalities.

This gave me a lot to think about. Certainly I have learned about the word commitment. The paperwork that allows the state to keep me in this undisclosed secure location is called "JUDGEMENT AND COMMITTAL." I am committed by the state to spend between five and fifteen years behind razor wire fences. No exceptions, no alternatives, no ifs, ands, or buts. Neither party can wake up one morning and say "Okay, enough of this commitment thing, let us go our separate ways. Not going to happen.

Even if I am lucky enough to make parole this November, I will still have up to ten years of rules and regulations that will govern my life until I have fulfilled my commitment to the State of New York.

So loving someone means being committed to them. It means you will be there for this person, no matter what. Even when you are pissed off, hung over, tired, hungry, mad at the person, or just want to care only about yourself. Nope, when you love someone you are there for them any time, any place, any anything„ That is what I have been doing for the last twelve plus years.

What have I been doing for the last twelve years? I have been committed. No, I am certainly not in love with prison. But for the purpose of understanding what it means to be committed, I got it? And while I had a lot to do with what put me in here, it was certainly not in my life plans to become committed to prison.

Being committed to prison has certainly hammered into the gray matter exactly what it means to be committed. Now I have been told that to love someone, you are going to have to be committed to them. Sometimes it takes me a little longer to get the message.

While I have had some good days and some good things happen to me while in prison, it is not an experience I wish on any other human being. In prison you often get to see how low human beings can go, and the level of hurt, physical and emotional, one can cause to another. (Some specific examples may be written about in other places in this blog, more examples will just have to wait till I am out of the system.)

Amidst all the bad times there have been some incredible bright spots„ People and events that I would never have met and experienced had I not had this "commitment.” True, there are other events and people that I have not shared an experience with because I have been in prison. That is life. You can only be in one place at one time.

If you are in love with someone, you are going to be there for that person no matter what, no matter where, no matter when. Not because at this time you would like to be there. Not because you have nothing better to d. You are there because you love that person.

The great revelation to me is that once you understand (and accept.) what a commitment is, and you say, "I love you" to a fellow human being your life becomes easier. No longer will you feel the challenges of what to do. No, first and foremost you answer the needs of your loved one.

Okay, you happen to love your spouse, and one result of the physical ramifications of that love produces a couple of charming offspring whom you also love dearly. Now what happens if this wonderful trio in your life all need you to be at a different place at 8:00 PM on Wednesday? That is logistics, and with love it can be worked out to meet the needs of all. The fact that the NCAA Final Four is playing in your town, and your alma mater is one of the teams that is not one of the FOUR places you need to be that night. You still only need to be THREE places. Unless of course one of your loved ones happens to be on the team in the Final Four. Now that would be very cool.

We interrupt the continuation of yesterday's letter

2009-07-07T08:22:00.001-04:00

to bring your this late breaking news.

As I was enjoying s lazy morning tucked in tight, the officer taps on my bunk to tell me they have a project for me. I put on my trusty mess hall whites for the first time in about two months and head over not knowing if it was only to fix a data problem or something new.

It turned out to be something new he wanted. He was going to have me work on his computer, which is in the front area of the kitchen as opposed to working in the back office. I mentioned that I needed to get my working directory off the back system since he only had the compiled software on his machine. As he escorts me to the back office, my nemesis, fellow inmate, Darnell Biggins, is hard at work on the computer, playing solitaire. This is around 8:30 AM. Yeah he is so busy on the computer.

Anyhow, I spent the next three hours or so trying to get back into my programming. I need to put a preprinted form on an existing report. After digging around through the help files I ended up using two sub reports, inside another main report to get the end result I needed. Now I needed a way to pass the parameters for the original report, now a sub report.

This was not working out. I had done something similar once before and finally remembered that the solution involved creating a specific query file each time as opposed to just passing a variable that contains the 'where' clause. Tomorrow I get to go in to work right after breakfast to complete this task.

I assume you have been receiving the INC magazine I ordered for you at Christmas time. I just received the June issue. You need to please look at the article on page 114. When you're coding. I was reading this around 11:30 PM last night and when I got to the paragraph where he describes how being interrupted while writing codes is like letting all the balls fall as you juggle the variables and how when interrupted it takes ten minutes to get back tip to speed.

Can you please explain how he makes his money? My limited understanding of open source tells me that any application written in an open source environment is available at the code level to all. Do you still buy the application? Where is the money coming from? Imagine what if a similar enterprise could be grown for medical records?

Can you shed some light on this?

As it is now it looks like I will out of the dorm most all of tomorrow, and so I wanted to type this short note tonight. I will certainly return to your letter on Thursday while celebrating my 53rd birthday.

How the package thing works.

2009-07-06T08:19:00.000-04:00

I am entitled to receive two food packages a month, not to exceed 35 pounds in total. Books, cosmetics and clothing are not subject to any limits. At this point the only food package I have received in the last two years is the one that you kindly reshipped (and added to). So at this point you sending me a food package would not be a problem.

As you know I manage to feed myself off the food that is available from the commissary. While the items are supposed to be priced at a wholesale level, but the current supplier has jacked up a lot of the prices. The deal is they do put the contract out for bids, but the winning bid only has to hold the prices for thirty days. Then he can raise them to allegedly reflect his increase in cost. For example we are now paying $1.60 for a 16 ounce can of mackerel and one of the catalog companies (Bust a Move) sells it for the some price.

Why is any of this relevant to you? Well I used to be able to buy enough food to feed my self for two weeks, and even purchase extras like a daily dose of chocolate. Lately, and last week in particular I has just enough available spending limit to buy what I consider my basic three meal a day requirement. We are limited to spending $55 per biweekly shopping trip. This limit used to include tobacco products but they have since removed them from that limit. That was a boost for those that smoke, but since I do not smoke, it did not change my limit.

Wah, wah, wah. Okay so now the package option becomes a source for items that are not sold in the store or for buying treats that I can not fit in my $55. On the one hand the $55 limit is a forced saving mechanism. Since I receive $15 a week from my job, plus the $100 a month from my mom, I can not spend more than $110 every four weeks. The limit does not include postage stamps.

There is one inmate who gets a package every few weeks from a store, which is paid for by his family. Included in the packages were four ounce bags of beef jerky. The first time he sold me two packs of the jerky for one box of Kool cigarettes. The Kools cost me $4.50, so I certainly get the better of that deal.

The point is I really do not physically need any more food. I have gained a few pounds, and that means I am not starving. But emotionally sometimes the diet of oatmeal, peanut butter and jelly, and tuna fish just becomes too much. Ironically most of the time the "pressure" for something different passes. If I were on the street I would jump out to the local pizza parlor or maybe the grocery store and buy something special.

I used to have Mom and Dad send me some items every few months just for the sake of variety. I recently received a catalog from a company called J&E Warehouse. They have a 5 -- 6 pound block of mozzarella cheese for $20.00. Now that is what I am looking for to go with the can of anchovies you sent. They used to sell an 8 ounce package of shredded mozzarella, but now it is that artificial all oil, non milk product that does not melt at all like the real thing. So the point is that once in a while some variety is nice.

Of course the irony is that for the first eight and a half years between my time in the various county jails and Club Fed, I was not able to have any packages sent in and I survived. This is one of those no right answer life questions.

One of the guys near me, who is going home in a couple of months, just got a humongous food package with real chickens, real sliced American cheese and all sorts of goodies. What is the right thing? I guess it depends on who your friends are.

Now I do not mean that to reflect at all on you as my friend. I am not expecting you to send me anything. I am grateful for all your support and true friendship. The point I was thinking of is what I just was sharing with Ray Carlton, you have to be willing to acknowledge that different people will offer their help in different ways. So if you were to send me some jerky it would be a great gift, give me a taste of something I read about in the Times and we have been kicking around for how many letters. Does any of this make sense?

I just spent the last hour talking with Ray. His wife came to visit him yesterday with her mother. It turns out his wife has a bunch of different cancers flowing in her that make treatment options next to impossible. She has been given xx amount of time to live. Her mom tells Ray that she is going out to the car now, he has the next three hours with her daughter and then he is done. Mind you this is not how his wife feels.

And if that was not enough, his mom is suffering from cancer too and was in the hospital for the last month with a collapsed lung. His family kept making excuses for her when he called saying she was out at this or the other place when he called. On top of that one of his brothers has MS and he is only around 18 and his medical provider has said he has only a year or two left. Yeah sometimes life just keeps coming at you.

Meanwhile my neighbor Tyrell wants to stomp on Ray because Ray apparently claimed some fish filets he was supposed to bring back from the mess hall were taken by the officers, when in fact they were diverted by Ray to an alternative inmate. Life is fun here at Camp Run-a-Muk.

It is now almost 2:00. I am going to jump in the shower and get ready for my 3:30 ART (Aggression Replacement Training) class. This is finally the last week. Only four more classes. Yeah. Depending on what I "feel" like when I return at 5:30, this might be the last page of the letter, or page three of a longer letter.

I wrote that I wanted to get back to writing

2009-07-04T11:11:00.000-04:00

and this morning as I pulled out my monster Webster's Dictionary your latest letter popped out. It is now 11:15 AM and I have had my morning breakfast; oatmeal, and one toasted English muffin, and instead of lying down and disappearing in to a book I am going to respond to your letter.

I quickly reread the letter I typed to you yesterday before sending it out and was pissed off at the spelling errors. This typewriter has a great spellchecker and it beeps at wrong words.

Unlike the SmithCorona, there is a different beep for the end of line and spelling errors therefore there is no reason for misspellings. The spellchecker even has an option to look up possible corrections.

Since it is fairly comprehensive I have taken to looking in the thesaurus or the dictionary if it beeps at me and cannot find a suggestion. So misspellings are just the result of plain laziness and inattentiveness (even that word is in the spellchecker, however spellchecker is not). Hold on; let me look that one up in the big Webster’s. Stand by. Okay it is listed as two words

Let us skip the name calling, and see if we can figure out what it means to be friends. I am always lifted up when I read any of your older letters, and just a few weeks ago I was sharing some of the jokes from one of your letters and had him laughing.

Abby has been sending me cards and or letters at the rate of two or three a week, but then it will taper off for a week or two. I can trace the lull to a gap in me sending out letters a couple weeks back.

This raises two thoughts. One: do not feel you have to answer an entire letter from me. Hopefully there will be one or maybe two thoughts that rise above the rest of the minutia that is my existence that are worthy of a response from you. Then what might happen is that we will develop some continuity.

That is what I think worked in the past. Yes I tended to try and comment on each paragraph in your letters, but with Abby, what ends up happening is that the issues that are more relevant to both of us rise to the top and get the most ink.

You and I have some things in common, some things that one of us likes to know about the other, and some things that are not as important, and in an effort to budget the time we have to write might not merit the full head on attack of more than a sentence or two. Not that these lesser issues are unnecessary, they do provide context and sometimes come back to the forefront later on. For example I do enjoy hearing about your cycling adventures, and feel like an insider when that subject turns up in the paper. I can then read something that I would normally pass over.

Damn, this is exactly what I mean. Your opening paragraph is only three lines and I take off and give it a half a page.

One last point, I would say that volume wise I put more words on paper than Abby, but that again is part of the budget thing. I do have somewhat more "free" time, but it is also a function of who I am. I tend to "need" to explain things to the nth degree.

One way I may be able to work on that is based on your shorter letters, reading them carefully for context and learn what things I write that either have no impact on you, or things I just put down way too many words.

SPLAT!

2009-06-27T00:30:00.000-04:00

I hope you can understand some of what I said about why looking into the VA medical software could become a lifesaver. I have no idea; well I have a damn good idea, where the parole board is going to be heading when I meet with them that third week in July, I Just wonder if I could turn the whole interview on its head by showing possible major league employment possibility.

While this letter is not at all organized or very concise it does show me that I have plenty I can write about and it is a waste of my time not to buckle down and do it. As I mention in the enclosed post, I am in control, it is just that with so little positive reinforcement or gratification (instant or otherwise) I need to get my head around the fact that at this point in my life I am stuck with having to put in work that will bear fruit in the future. It sucks, but it is the truth.

I was thinking as I started to write this how really screwed I have been by the justice system. If the simplistic sales job my lawyer in NY did was true, I should have no fear of not making my first board. Being on parole would be a piece of cake so therefore do not worry about the 15 year part of my sentence. Now the truth is looking like I will be lucky to get out before my 10 year CR (conditional release) date. It is not up to parole at that point, as long as I have not refused any "programs" I am released but would still be subject to that last five of the fifteen year sentence to parole supervision).

So the real short and long term hope I have as far as having any kind of a real life is to do the extraordinary. But I realize that the only way to do that would be through some incredibly hard, no short term payoff, and very little monetary gain while getting to that point. So the two basic areas at this point are writer extraordinaire, or putting those 8 out of 10 doctors on to an electronic records system at an incredibly low cost.

See I am not asking for much am I? Then again I could just get stepped on, SPLAT!

Okay before I ramble on to yet more uncharted waters let me put this in the mail to you. I have only four more days of the ART class that has been taxing my ability to not blow up at someone or something, and then I guess I will be back to the whole day free schedule. Time will tell.

I need to hear from you more often, I know I need to write more too. For the short term, maybe try short letters, while I certainly enjoy hearing what you and the boys are up to, maybe we can each focus on ourselves a bit and toss around some of life’s unanswered questions. Just a thought.

Anything But A Head

2009-06-26T10:36:00.001-04:00

My dad was famous for telling us the latest joke around the dinner table, and not only laughing to himself as he was telling the joke, causing him to stop talking, but then he would forget the punch line.

One joke that he did remember was as follows:

Once there was this head, just a plain, ordinary head. No neck, no other body parts just a nice almost spherical head. Each day during the week this head would roll out of bed in the morning, eat his breakfast and then roll off to work. Each night before he went to bed, he would say his prayers, and always ask if God should so will it, could he be anything but a head. He was tired of being only a head.

One night he has this feeling that God was really listening to his prayer, so he prayed extra hard, begging God, "Please make me anything but a head." He went to sleep wondering if this night was to be the night that God would answer his prayer.

He wakes up the next morning, opens his eyes, and discovers his prayers have finally been answered, he is now a grape.

On the way to work that morning, he gets stepped on, SPLAT!

The moral of this tale: "Quit while you're a head."

Being in prison is like this joke. You are just a head. It is the only part of your body (at least what is inside of your head) that is not under the twenty-four hour control of the prison authorities.

The rules of the prison at a minimum control when you can move from point A to point B. They may be as strict as to say you can only shower three times a week, regardless of the fact that it may be over 90 degrees inside and outside of the prison. But luckily, they can not tell you what or when to think.

One of the great things about this blog is that it gives me an opportunity to think out loud. To allow my thoughts and feelings to escape the confines of razor wire, electric fences and stone walls. I have not risen up to the challenge and the gift that is available to me. I have been sitting here wallowing in my private pity party.

While it may be true that the medium of the blog is dying, I am certainly guilty of not keeping this particular blog alive. I have no excuse, no reason for neglecting the freedom that this blog (and my editor) provide.

I am working at getting this blog back among the living. It provides proof of my intellectual freedom, if only I take advantage of it. I must also be willing to put the work in.

I have no one but myself to blame, and on the positive side, need no one but myself to reverse the status quo.

24 hour medical coverage.

2009-06-25T08:01:00.001-04:00

Another great idea, not allow health insurance companies to charge more for people that have pre-existing conditions or known chronic conditions. Makes sense to me that if I have to charge everyone the same price I simply have no choice but to charge a higher price for all.

The real problem is that as far as health care goes we have to either admit as a country that if you can pay for it you can get it, or everyone deserves the same treatment. Until you decide that, how can you design any type of national coverage? If we admit that life is not fair and we cannot make it fair, then we just do the best we can.

For example, back at Club Fed we used to have 24 hour PA coverage. One day the Warden wakes up and says, Hey I do not have 24 hour medical personnel, why should prisoners? So then from 11PM to 6AM we had PA on call rather than on site, and sure enough the one night I have an asthma attack I have to wait almost an hour for the PA to make his way into the prison.

Here they do not use PA's. We have at least one nurse on site at all times. As far as doctors go, with have Dr. Weinstein when he is here, which is usually not more than four days a week for about 6 hours maximum. And yes there is a backlog waiting to see him.

I got a quickie physical a week or so ago that included my first digital rectal exam (DRE) i.e. prostate check. That was pleasant. He said I should wait at least a month to get the blood test done as apparently the physical exam causes a false rise in the levels.

GM fiasco.

2009-06-24T08:03:00.000-04:00

For the last two weeks, since the NY Times changed to that new New York section on Sundays, my edition ends up with no New York news at all. Up until that point, they had been including the New York section in the main. There was International, National, and New York, all in that first section which is still how my Monday to Saturday papers come. So anything important happens on a Saturday, printed on Sunday, and I will never find out about it. I need to write a letter to complain about that.

The paper is getting lean enough! Another area to write about is how they are portraying the great rescue of GM. I am still not sure if I am going to dive into the bulk of the writing, but for example one story caught my eye about how the bondholders agreed to "forgive" some of the bonds. I would think the bondholders might prefer to have it reported how they are getting "royally fucked" but I guess that would not be printable.

I am also amazed at another headline that says "Obama feels confident that GM will emerge from bankruptcy and be a great company." Lets see, you screw a whole bunch of stockholders, bondholders, and who knows how many small business whose outstanding GM bills were not paid, but you think things are going to be great? Let us not talk about collateral damage.

Smelly Sneakers.

2009-06-23T08:56:00.002-04:00

I had an interesting problem back in April, where for so reason my sneakers smelled like cat piss. That is what one particular inmate would say every time I walked into the small TV room. They did smell a bit but it was more mildew than anything else.

No, we do not have any cats around here. They do in some of the maxes to keep the mouse population down. Anyhow, I think the inmate that was razzing me put something in my shoes. He is now gone I have washed the sneakers out, and no more strange smells.

I am enclosing a post for the blog

2009-06-22T09:53:00.001-04:00

that has been in the memory of the typewriter for over a week. I have been so funked out, and feeling so useless, that the majority of my time has been spent lying on my bunk reading.

I have not worked at all in the mess hall for last two months, and no one has told me anything. I am still getting paid, and even saw the officer that started me doing all the programming when I made a trip to the mess hall for breakfast this morning, and all he said was, "How you doing?"

I need to buckle down and start up the writing again. I am sending this letter using the cloth ribbon, but will do the post with the one-strike. If I understand your latest comments, both will scan OK, but the single strike does better with the OCR.

I am assuming you can scan my letters etc. into a file and either just save the scan as an image or go ahead and run it through the OCR program to end up with word processor file. So for my letters you could simply save them as images, ah but then you can not search them.

I think I found a company that will do the generic ribbon thing for this typewriter with the cost per ribbon only $3.95 each instead of the $8.95 I just paid. I am going to order a test ribbon to see if it works.

It is easier to write about tech stuff than having to put my emotions on the page. I miss that between us, and for better or worse, as a birthday present to both of us, I am going to try to start that up again. I am not sure exactly what that last sentence really means, but think that I want to be able to have a two party discussion that will also feed me stuff to write on the blog.

It is apparent to me that one way I can jump over all the hurdles of the conditions I will face on parole is to be a writer. While I will still be subject to being violated if I were to write stuff too critical of the correction system, I think I will have a little more leeway if I am outside the fence. In here, say the wrong thing and a fellow inmate beats the shit out of me. Out there, they would have to document some sort of violation, then put me in jail, and then have someone beat me up.

Speaking of being beat up, I remember one of your letters mentioning how you did not like your setup at work because your back was to the aisle and you could not see anyone coming up on you. Yeah, I am afraid to put on my headphones and read with my back to the cube opening for fear I will get an ass whipping. That is just one of the topics I want to get written out on the blog.

On the "why I should just type my own stuff and not help others" front, it turns out that the 20 year old I mentioned did something that really pissed off my neighbor Tyrell Washington, So now I am stuck in the middle so to speak. I can go to Ray Carlton, and say why did you piss off Tyrell and get another side to the story. The point is that Tyrell has no problem whipping someone's ass if it comes to that but he is not wanting to stay longer in jail.

Then yet another inmate wants my help with his parole denial, and Tyrell say he is a rat and I better be careful since I am not supposed to do legal work without the superintendent’s permission, which I do not have, nor would get if I asked, so wink wink I really do not do other's legal work, so there is no need for you to mention the subject back. Got that?

The other side of the coin, as one other inmate mentioned that my nickname should be F. Lee Bailey. So if I help one and not another that presents a problem too.

Consequences.

2009-06-20T13:54:00.003-04:00

Another Sunday evening and I am winding up a bunch of typing I did for others.

There were two letters for my neighbor, Tyrell Washington, another helping a resident alien fill out an eight page form to allow him to stay in the county, and last but not least, a letter for an inmate who shipped a bunch of paperwork to a lawyer back in January only to have the courts throw his case out since the court had not heard from him in the required 120 days. He thought the lawyer was taking care of things. I think that is a logical assumption.

The alien is a young guy, around 25 I think, from the Dominican Republic. He has three kids, (all de facto US citizens) with three different "Baby's Mama." (A term that flows from the lips of many of my fellow inmates like Niagara Falls.)

I told him he might be better off leaving the country and starting over. Apparently, none of the "mothers" (hard to call them that and think of our mothers as being called by that same word) are self-supporting, and all are receiving government aide from multiple sources.

So under the New York States Child Support formula, since all three kids live with different moms and none will live with him, he could be paying over 50% of his income in child support for the next 15 plus years. Yeah that is a life to look forward to.

Yeah I know consequences. But he was only part of the problem, and will end up bearing all of the consequence. I know life is not fair, but there are times that I feel in our attempt to make something fair, we create more unfairness.

Two Things.

2009-06-19T10:38:00.001-04:00

I know how you dislike me asking you to do "things" for me but there are two things that I would really appreciate your assistance with.

The first is do you remember that book I recommended to you with the love letters in it. I think it was by Robert Fulghum. The first letter was written from one second grader to another and then read at their wedding. One of the last stories was about a woman and her couch and how she got others to help her move it. I think they are both in the same book but I know the first story is the book I am looking for.

There is a guy here, only 20 years old, who for some unknown reason has taken to talking to me a lot about his struggles. At times I get the feeling I am speaking to a thirty something guy. Weird. Ironically he personally knows several of the officers here and one of our regular ones is only a few years older than him and knows the same people on the street. I do plenty of listening and he usually seeks me out versus me chasing him. Anyhow he has shared a bunch of romance novels with me, and he and his wife sort of share the books and underline parts they can relate to. And I get to read those books. Very strange.

Anyhow, the point is as we have been talking, the hove letter book popped into my head as something he and his wife could relate to. Boy to be that young and in love with the type of girl he has. So mushy Yuck. HA HA Yeah I am jealous as hell. Of course I had that with Karen, but was too stupid to know any better.

So my thought is, if you could at the least remember the full title and author, that would be a start, I remember at one point it was in Hamilton, but I do not think I have seen it lately. If you could possibly send me the book, either a used one via the web or the one you have that would be great. I do not remember what happened to my copy; either I may have sent it to Bobbielou or lent it to another inmate and it was not returned. That is it, I lent it out. Drat. Okay that is the first thing.

The second is to see what you can easily find out about the veteran's medical record software. One of the latest medical records articles said eight in 10 doctors still do not have an electronic records system in place. As I recall, since the veteran's software was paid for with tax dollars,

What I was trying to write was that I thought the NYT article said you were able to get both the application and the source. The most recent article mentioned that it was still too expensive for the average doctor to install a system. But what would happen if first of all one had access to a whole bunch of free source code. Then as I used to do, were able to install a system in stages, so that you did not need to sock a prospective client with a $150,000 plus start up fee. No with access to source, you could attack specific areas one by one, adding both training and hardware as needed.

For example, the first use of the system would be to put in current info only as patients some in, maybe only general health stars. Then you could add the Lab work module, pharmacy script writing, referrals, and eventually electronic storage of X-rays etc.

The orthopedist I go to has his x-ray machines directly wired into the computer no films at all. The ear nose and throat doctor had the voice input option on their network. But I would think that for a small office, one could get the doctor started for less than $10,000 and than add features and hardware over time. One service that could be provided would be trained data entry clerks to upload history files or maybe just offer seminars to train people of the doctor's choosing. The thing why I this is doable is the way Obama keeps talking about the whole electronic records thing is going to be part of the stimulus money he keeps doling out.

So to recap, do you get source code, if so what language is used. At this point I assume once you knew the file layouts you could even use a product like Access to develop custom interfaces. Ideally what I am thinking is how much you could port over to a Lunix system and then eliminate all cost for operating system and runtime licenses.

I am dreaming here to be sure, but I am thinking about building a grass roots tech force where the initial installations are done by less trained individuals, and as the doctor increases the use of the system, more experienced tech people take over. I am thinking you could build a non college educated tech force, supervised by properly educated to support them. With all the low price storage devices available, I can see basically building a prototype growth path, with a clear path of what each step would cost both in additional hardware and staff training time. In addition what support services are available and what their cost is.

Of course the two biggest issues on the good news bad news see saw that is my life. Good news I am willing to put in a whole bunch of sweat equity, and work for cheap. The bad news is convincing my parole office that I am not a threat to have access to some computer hardware. But first I need to see what resources are available so if this VA stuff is really any good at all, think about what a goldmine that could be. I do recall that the VA package was a success.

Future Plans.

2009-06-18T08:03:00.001-04:00

I have not made any definite plans about what I will do upon my release. This is not to say I have no idea what I will do. Since I will initially be under very strict guidelines, my goal is to earn the trust of those persons I will be dealing with on a regular basis. The first person would be the parole officer I am reporting to. Then I will work to establish contacts with those people in the community that can provide me with support and guidance in dealing with other members of the community I am located in.

Between the current state of the economy and my criminal record I realize it will be difficult to obtain employment. However, I am not afraid to work. I am willing to work at a reduced wage and prove my worth on the job. While I understand that my access to computers will be governed by my parole conditions, I can still use my expertise to seek employment in areas where my skills for system design and organization could be of use without needing direct access to a computer.

In addition I have years of experience working on minor home repairs, including plumbing, electrical and carpentry. One possible employment opportunity, might be working using my skills to help senior citizens and other disabled persons with repairs and maintenance around their homes. I would like to offer my services at a reduced rate, and/or work through community organizations that provide services to the elderly and homebound.

I would also take the opportunity to work on my writing skills and possibly look toward publishing some of my writings. I have over 3,000 pages of writings, in the form of letters and essays, that I have written over the last thirteen years and this could be used to form the base of either a non-fiction memoir or a fictional story.

My main focus will be to take each day as it comes. My prison experience has taught me patience above all other things. My primary responsibility upon my release will be to my parole officer and the terms and conditions set down by the Division of Parole. Once I earn the trust of my parole officer, I will then build on that and establish other relationships with those members in the community that can further my successful re-entry into society so that I can be a productive and law-abiding citizen.

Inmate Statement.

2009-06-17T08:26:00.001-04:00

Help!!!!!!! I met with the parole officer on Friday morning, not a very uplifting experience to be sure. I have until Tuesday to submit an Inmate Statement that goes along with a multi-page submission for each of the two or three parole board members I will meet with the third week of July.

The one really interesting part of this process is that most of the report is confidential to me. I can not see most of what they receive and in most cases do not even know if they receive anything. For example they contact the judge (he is retired now and maybe dead?) and the DA. The office can respond as opposed to the actual DA that handled my case and they can even contact my lawyer. I do not get to see what any of them say. Great, I am denied parole and I can not rebut what went into the decision.

I am enclosing the first two pages I finally managed to get typed this afternoon. What I can not find, and hope you can reach into your electronic archives is that great recommendation letter from way back when. I thought we (you and I) had worked with it since I came to New York State, but an admittedly quick search through the hundreds of pages in my files, plus the miscellaneous files failed to turn it up.

Unless I am losing my mind, we did work with it and you put a slightly modified copy of it on the blog. So PLEASE if you can put your hands on a copy without too much delay send me a couple copies of it ASAP. On the one hand ice cubes in hell will last longer then my chance at parole, but I thinking submitting a two word statement, which would at least guarantee my rejection, I need to put something together, My hope is just to provide an opportunity if the board members want to seem to put an effort in, that yes there is more to me than the criminal bastard.

The parole office made no secret of the fact that the initial conditions of my release will be many, and tough, and at this point I will be going back to the county where I used to live to serve my parole. I am not allowed to have a computer (Internet or not) or cell phone without first earning a hell of a lot of trust from my parole officer. That is what the whole thing is going to boil down to, what I can do to convince my parole officer that I am a different man. Pretty neat trap though. Put a 53 year old man out in the public and take away his ability to earn a living.

Welfare here I come.

I am having a really hard time with this whole experience (parole). Hope you can find that letter and send it to me fast. Thanks in advance.

ART.

2009-06-16T09:42:00.002-04:00

On Monday I get to start a mandatory program called ART. The acronym stands for Aggression Replacement Training Program. Yeah I know there is no P, but the memo I got has Program in the title. It is an eight week program and I will have it from 3:00 to 5:30 PM, Monday to Thursday. Friday's off.

It is going to be a real test to have to spend so much time in a class room with around 15 other inmates. The program is led by inmates, and the staff person is only in the class once a week. Personally, I think existing in prison for the twelve plus years I have and not having a single ticket for fighting (or any other reason) proves beyond a doubt that I can handle my aggression.

One of the reasons I sent you that rapid response note is that I have certainly missed your letters, and when you mention you might do something I have no way of knowing if you are having any luck on the issue or not. So I sit here waiting for your letters. I know I hear you saying "no problem I will not tell him I am going to do anything then he will not expect anything." This is true, but I miss some of the things you used to do, particularly the books you were sending. You have no idea how much they are worth in here. I am surprised at the way some of the inmates clamor for books to read and anytime I can be the source of something other inmates want, my life becomes better.

You will note a few extra letters were added to the above paragraph as I had saved a few precious memory bytes in the editing of` tlthelet ter-I a1sca.1 tenbbet tbh hri le5 s i~~t ~~ not printing

oops I tried to over type that line,

You will note a few extra letters were added to the above paragraph as I had recovered a few precious bytes in the editing of this letter. I note that the damn ribbon is not flowing smoothly and some of the characters are not being properly printed. Not sure if it is a flaw of this particular cartridge or if it the machine. Will try another ribbon to check. This is the one that came with the machine. So maybe it is at fault.
ddddddddddddddddddddddu-

Oops I told you this keyboard had a light touch. And I do not have the right correction ribbon to remove the damn d's.

Not sure if this letter will be continued tomorrow or not, but it will be on its way to you within a day or two at the most.

Would you like to know what I was going to say? Well now you know how many words fit into a 7K memory.

To read the rest of the story please stand by while I first proof and print the good copy of the above ramblings first.

I just noticed that the light part of the ribbon showed up in the second paragraph of this page. Can you still get an acceptable OCR reading of that part, presuming you can on the normal part? Is the single strike ribbon the only thing that will work?

blog bitch

The above words were added; I guess it is a politically correct spell checker.

PS: Looks like I fixed the ribbon problem. Just had to put some of the tension back in the one clip that was holding down the cartridge.

Organization of the paperwork.

2009-06-15T09:47:00.001-04:00

One of the things I have let go is having any type of organization of the paperwork. I have fifteen to twenty manila envelopes with all types of papers that include your letters, articles I want to write about, letters from Abby, and general correspondence stuff.

For example when I received the last issue of PC Magazine, I needed to write to them and have them send me a refund for the unused portion of the subscription. Of course they provide an E-mail address for all the good it did me. I also need to write to INC. magazine since somehow when I ordered the gift subscriptions for Abby and you, I ended up getting two of each issue.

I could probably fill many pages just dealing with things you mentioned in your last four or five letters, however let that not be an excuse to not write me any more. I am going to work on a forward looking life plan. I certainly want you to be a part of my life along the way and am sorry I have dropped the ball as it were as far as our "personal" writing. I have tried not to send out whiny Poor Pete letters, but that has also led to no letters going out.

For all intents and purposes my future was radically altered with the death of my Dad. Now I am hoping Mom can hang on for a while to offer me some minor support and my monthly allowance because that is what makes a real difference in my ability to exist in here.

I am still working on the Access programming and getting smarter at it each day. For the last few weeks though I have been restricted to less than three hours a day of programming time and as such have not been very productive outwardly, but still have been using the time to tweak the internal side of the software so that it is a better product. It is such a powerful draw for my intellect, that many a night I toss and turn trying to get to sleep but all I can do is visualize the various screens and what new things I want to work on.

Maybe I should take down my wall of words and put up some of those scantily clad female pictures like most of the other inmates have to let me fall asleep with dreams of sugar plums instead of computer screens.

The new typewriter has arrived. Thanks Mom!

2009-06-13T23:24:00.002-04:00

One immediate improvement is that the misspelling beep is not the same as the end of line warning. This was always a bitch as you never knew if the last word on the line was the cause of the beep. This spell checker also lets me add words, so I will print out the words I have added so far. For the time being I can now type my last name and not get beeped. I am not sure how many words I can add but supposedly it will dump out the less used words to make room for new ones I add.

I ordered both a couple cloth ribbon and the standard single use type. I am sending you both the fabric ribbon and one strike ribbon of this letter. The current plan is to use the cloth ribbon with the memory option to create the draft of a letter or blog post. Then after proofing, switch the ribbon and print the final copy using the single strike ribbon. I am assuming that for OCR purposes the single strike works better.

Another nice feature of this typewriter is it will automatically put the proper number of lines on a page and then halt printing to allow you to insert the next page and resume printing.

The fabric ribbon uses a different correction tape, cover-up versus lift off. I had purchased a box of each but since I will be using the one use ribbons only after proofing my typing in the memory, I have put the cover-up tape in the typewriter for now.

One thing I noticed is that there is a dry spot on the fabric ribbon that is about three lines long. That is a drag for new ribbon. I will also use the fabric ribbon for letters I type for others. The new ribbons only come in a pack of one and are $6.95 for the single strike and $9.60 for the fabric. I will be looking to see how long the fabric ones last. They are a totally different configuration from the SmithCorona and Brother ribbons so I am not sure if there is any alternative source.

I know, one thing at a time.

I am working on gearing up the writing. I received the typewriter last week and only managed to get a two-page letter out to Mom last weekend and until around 7:00 PM tonight the typewriter sat in my locker. I have been vegging out with my nose in books mostly and not been doing any writing. Part of the problem would lend itself to some great writing, the whole “who am I and what am I going to do with the rest of my life”, but so far the best action I have taken is to not deal with it at all.

I am enclosing a copy of the last letter I received from my Mom. The original letter was written on a page from one of those wire bound notebooks and had the ragged edge on the left side. That was where Mom's comment about "This is the grass coming up" comes in. I am not sure what most of the letters refers to. Her reference to "P" toward the end is worrisome to the extent that I would be the P in the family. Hmm.

I am thankful that Sarah is helping mom to some extent but I do worry about the stress that might be causing between her and Bill. I have not called since Mom's hearing is not good enough to carry on any type of conversation, but perhaps she would like to hear my voice?

Note: I did not order a TV. The inmates in the maxes do have a small TV in their cells. Up until last year they were still only allowed black and white 12" screens. Now they have access to a LCD color unit but still only 12" screen.

Box in the Mail.

2009-06-11T21:08:00.001-04:00

You should be receiving a box via U.S. Mail from me. The inmate who had been helping these past months by going to commissary and cleaning my cube on occasion went home about two weeks ago. When he left he took my name and number and said he was going to send me a package.

Well he sent one and it is probably the same box that you received unless they put his box inside a larger box.

I ended up spending $12.14 to send the box to you. They make us purchase the basic insurance, and the receipt says the box weighed 16 lbs. Is that the right price? Did they put the box inside another box?

Why did I send you the box? Well while the box was properly addressed to me, Mark forgot to put his name and return address on the box. According to the policy, without a return address they cannot even open the box. So while Mark said he would be sure to give me his address, I assume you will find it in the box I just sent you.

The fun part of this was I do not know what he sent. He simply told me he knew what I liked and would send me a package. While he was here he did not receive any outside funds and I am not exactly sure what his living arrangements are now. So besides the joy of receiving a package of edibles, I am curious as to what items he chose to send.

Since I know he is not a rich man, I felt the only noble thing to do was to send the box to you. You can open it. See if you find his address and/or other correspondence. If you do, would you send that information to me in a letter. If you can, simply use his return address on the envelope (instead of your home address) and drop it in the mail.

Mark is not on parole or any other type of post-release supervision, so he can send mail and packages to me without getting into trouble. Not like the letters I was trying to send to my friend Dave while still in Club Fed.

As for the package I would appreciate you sending back to me either by US Mail or UPS. Remember if you send it via UPS be sure to use the street address instead of the PO Box. Use your name and address as the return address on the box.

If you happen to have a couple extra cans of anchovies around that you might feel inclined to toss in the box I would really be in hog heaven.

Be sure you print your full first and last name on the package. I will gladly reimburse you for the cost of sending the package ($10 check sent separately).

I did receive the monthly letter from Mom today. The letter is legible but while the letter is four handwritten pages, most of the sentences are incoherent. Damn.

Damn, I Should Have Taken Hindi or Urdu.

2009-02-04T22:59:00.000-05:00

The New York Times may be home to "All the News That's Fit To Print" but the following job listing makes me think that when it comes to accepting advertising as long as the bill is paid that is good enough. The listing reads:

PHYSICIAN - INTERNAL MEDICINE
No experience needed. Able to speak Hindi/Urdu preferred. Brooklyn Avail immed.
Fax resume: 718 434-7120

Could just be me, but is this an office you want treating your medical problems?

Then there was the following ad listed two boxes down:

PODIATRIST - See our patients. Locate your satellite office within one of NY's Largest and Busiest Dental Practices in Corporate Metrotech Center, Downtown Bklyn.
Call 718-403-0447

Dentist and Podiatrist in same office? I guess that makes consultations easy when treating foot in mouth disease.

Research Needed.

2009-01-29T21:26:00.000-05:00

Could someone out there please find out some information on the "Humanitarian Parole" program under the Department of Homeland Security?

There are apparently many different avenues one can explore as far as being able to stay in the United States when one is not a citizen. What I would like is any textual information that you can email to the blog.

At the very least if someone can find the address of who one might write to in order to get additional information, that would be much appreciated. Simply email the information to the blog and my editor will send it along to me.

Thanks again.

I Get My Arts Through The New York Times.

2009-01-23T08:19:00.002-05:00

One of the vexing problems of my current government funded secure location is the lack of any reception of a "Public Radio" station. While staying at Club Fed in the middle of nowhere West Virginia, I at least had 24 hour a day reception of a Public Radio station. Besides listening to all the great classical music, there was the special shows like Car Talk, Prairie Home Companion, weekend jazz marathon show from midnight to 6:00 AM, and Pipe Dreams. While there are a couple of public radio stations in the general area, for some reason while inside the dorms we can only pick up one FM station and it goes off the air at midnight each night.

I was excited to find an article about Pipe Dreams in the New York Times. "Tuning In to the Organ, And Not Just in Church," Saturday October 18, 2008. Not only was there a half page story on the show, now in its twenty-fifth year, but it also include a picture of the host, J. Michael Barone. It just so happens that he wears his hair in a pony tail, like I do. The article points out the niche nature of the program with a current listening audience of about 250,000. It would be 250,001 Michael, but it will have to wait till I can get to an area that allows reception of a station that broadcasts the show. In the meantime, how great it must be to have a job you really love for twenty five years that also brings much joy to those that listen to the show.

The Leg Report - A Continuing Saga.

2009-01-20T23:05:00.000-05:00

Someone mentioned in a recent note to me that I had not written anything about my leg lately. This will remedy the lack of information.

I had an evaluation with the physical therapist this past week. He wondered what he was supposed to do with me as I explained that after almost nine months, my femur bone had still not totally healed. He questioned me as to any chronic conditions I might have that would inhibit the bone from healing. That's what I love, being a medical oddity.

Well after he took as much personal history from me as he needed, he did his initial evaluation. He tested me for range of motion, reflexes and muscle strength. I completed all the tests with flying colors. He almost forgot, but also checked the length of my legs and agrees with my feeling that my injured leg was now slightly shorter. He will be referring me to a specialist for a possible heel insert to correct that condition. He said that considering my travails, I looked remarkably well. (Please take note any single members of the opposite sex.) Hey of course I look good, it is one of the few ways you can show the keepers that they are not going to get you down,. As a matter fact, one of the frequent responses when other inmates ask how I am doing is, "More fun than an inmate is supposed to have."

When we were discussing further treatment, I told him it was my impression that the surgeon was letting me decide when I would consent to the hip replacement surgery. I told him I thought that at the least I would be better off having the surgery after I get the muscles on the right side of my body that have been weakened from the last eight plus months of disuse back to full strength. He said that made some sense. The healthier one is with any surgery, the better off one is.

The doctor also took an x-ray of my leg and confirmed yep I can still see the fracture line and I have no idea why it has not healed by this time. He also cheered me right up with the possibility that the pins that are currently holding my femur bone together might actually break under stress.

The bottom line seems to be that at some point in the not too distant future I will be going under the knife for the fourth time in less than three years. Amazing, I managed to make it the first fifty years of life without having broken any bones, or received anything more serious than stitches and one three day hospitalization for my chronic asthma condition.

The first two surgeries were for my hopelessly clogged sinuses, and the correction of a deviated septum. The third time was the pinning of the broken femur.

I do notice that while I am still using both crutches to hopefully prevent me from relearning to walk with a limp, that each week brings me closer to walking without one. I do get very physically tired when walking without the crutches. My guess is that using the muscles that are not as strong as they should be uses more energy. Hence the tiredness.

So that is the latest on the leg for now. Stay tuned for further updates. And hey, thanks for asking about it. You know who you are!

Thursday evening here and I thought I would drop you a line.

2009-01-17T21:50:00.000-05:00

I am too lazy to look at what I last sent you, so hopefully I am not repeating myself. I have not been able to get my act together and put the last few months of letters in order and so I am not following any previous thoughts.

My mom managed to send me two letters last month, with the second one arriving on Christmas Eve. The big issue in that letter was that they are trying to sell the house and while I might have had a slim hope of living there with mom, the other problem is the few worldly possessions I still have are stored there. The biggest loss would be my tool collection but I have asked Mom to see to it if there is any way they can be stored.

The last thing I wrote to my Mom about was how she felt about the possibility of living someplace with me as her caretaker?

The last time I brought the issue up was near the end of the fed time, and at that point my parents expressed their desire to be on their own. They were more than willing to provide support both monetary and emotional to get me a place to live, but did not want to have me living with them. There may have been other "issues" (such as tension with my siblings etc.) but that was never verbalized.

Of course there is the whole issue of Mom wanting to live with me? I am not exactly sure what financial shape Mom is in right now, and I am not being included in any of the plans for disposing of any of the contents of the house.

Okay that last paragraph was a little off. I am not sure what Mom's financial status is at this point. I know she has her own pension and Social Security, but am not sure if any part of Dad's pension carries over. I am not being included in any thoughts as to the dispersion of the "family heirlooms" but certainly hope at least my property will be saved. While it is certainly a long shot I could be a free man come this November.

As I have said before, I am due to see the Parole Board in August and will see a parole officer around May to discuss my plans if I am released. So on the one hand I have little hope of being release this year but I have to have some sort of plan in place for the parole people to chew on. The economy is certainly not going to be any help at all. With an abundance of job seekers, especially on the low end of the pay scale, who is going to bother with a felon. So how does one deal with all this very practical stuff which carries all sorts of emotional weight too.

This is my from of mind of late and I would not mind just losing it all and sitting in a padded room strumming my lips and going "blub-blub-blub" or however you would convey the sound one makes as one strumming lips and say "blah blah."

Well that is all for now. I am off to shower and then to bed.

Oh the leg. I finally saw a physical therapist. He was puzzled as to how my leg was not healing given no other pathology and also wondered what he was supposed to do? He did some evaluation maneuvers and said I looked very good considering the leg. He is recommending me to another specialist since it does appear my right leg is now a little, but noticeably, shorter. I mention that one possible scenario was that I thought if I must eventually have the hip replacement surgery, I would be better off if I first got the strength back to all the various muscles that have been lying around without use for the past eight months. He said that made sense.

So for now I can walk around without the crutches. I have less of a limp, which tells me I did well using the two crutches to keep me from learning to walk with a limp. I get very wiped out when I do stand or walk for a couple hours without the use of the crutches.

On Monday, I helped put away some of the Christmas decorations up in the chapel, and yesterday was on my feet at the stove cooking three pounds of ziti which served seven. I had to chop and slice two pepperoni sticks, one summer sausage beef log, two onions, and two peppers. Not really all that big a deal if you are in a regular kitchen, but try doing that without any metal knives. Only the cheapest of plasticware to work with.

I ended up putting in most of the ingredients, but it worked out well as all the other guys raved at the amount of meat and sauce. One of the other inmates came over today and even offered a beef log if I included him in the next meal I cooked. High praise indeed.

Happy New Year 2009.

2009-01-11T23:05:00.001-05:00

I thought that since I had not written to you this year, today, New Year's Day, would be a good day to break the silence.

I am wondering if I have just finished experiencing my last Christmas and New Years behind bars. But then again one should not get one's hopes up. I wonder how your holidays have gone.

I am still holding my breath as to any impending transfer. I am not sure what if any value my current medical situation has on me being transferred. I am still using crutches, but am finding that I am getting closer to being able to walk without limping. I have no real pain at this point but know the muscles still need to get stronger in my right leg. From my last meeting with my doctor, I am of the opinion that I might be able to be almost 100% mobile but that at some point the pins, which are keeping the bone together, will give out and I will have no choice but have the hip replacement surgery. So I wonder is it better to first build my leg muscles back up, and then have the surgery, giving me a faster recovery time as I would be able to walk better.

So many questions, so little answers.

I know you are worried about the state of the stock market, but I do have one question.For example if I, as a Microsoft stock holder, decided to sell one share of my holdings to you for one dollar, and the sale ran across the tape, would that really mean that all Microsoft shares are to be valued at $1? So if less than 1% of a stock is traded on any given day, how is it that the other 99% all of a sudden take on that value?

Now suppose I have been holding shares of Rich Corp. stock that I brought for $5 each fifteen years ago, and ten years ago they were valued at $150 each but now they are down to $15 each, what have I lost? I managed to triple my money in 15 years; not all that shabby is it?

So I wonder if you could build a database of all the shares currently being held, the price they were brought at, and could then run a report showing exactly what percentage of shareholders have lost real money (paid more than stock is now worth), who is losing value as computed by picking some arbitrary percent of annual growth (say 5%), and lastly those current share holders that if they sold their shares today would still end up with x percent more than they paid,. If the stock has been paying dividends over the years of ownership, that amount should also be taken into account.

While I certainly do not pretend to be any type of financial genius, I often enjoy explaining my views on how the current incarnation of the stock market is built on more style than substance.

I remember way back in my younger years, one of the things that I was taught was that when you looked at when buying a stock was what was the amount of the dividend the stock was paying, expressed as a percentage of the stock price, and what if any capital appreciation of assets might cause the price to increase over the years. Now we have people that attempt to make a living out of trading shares of stock on a daily basis. That is the same stock is brought and sold the same day. What is wrong with this picture? The 50 billion dollar Ponzi scheme meltdown is another example on a simplistic level of duh if it sounds too good to be true, it may be.

You should be getting a new subscription to INC. magazine. It was a special deal that if I paid for a new subscription for someone, I got a year added to my subscription. So while I usually have my parents pay my subscriptions, this time I used my own funds. I know you are busy, but I want to be able to toss some ideas that appear in the magazine at you. Mostly though, I do find a certain amount of kinship with a lot of the profiles done, as these are people who very often go against the flow as it were and come up with some great business ideas and therefore lifestyles that certainly give me something to dream about.

Please Allow Me To Introduce Myself...

2008-12-18T23:33:00.002-05:00

That is what my right leg said to the rest of my body this past Tuesday.(This is being written on Thursday, December 11, 2008.) After almost eight months of carrying my right leg around with the aid of two crutches, the new surgeon told me to start putting weight on the leg.

It was the first week of September when I last met with the surgeon who operated on me back in April of this year. At that appointment he gave me the bad news. In his opinion my femur was not going to heal and the only alternative was to replace the ball end of the femur and part of my hip with man made material. This would involve removing some of the God given parts I was born with and am quite attached to.

Since this surgeon no longer did hip replacement surgeries, he was referring me to another surgeon in the office. He said that this new surgeon would arrange for a follow-up appointment once he reviewed the actual CAT scan as opposed to relying on the one page report issued by the radiologist. As things went, both his office and the crack medical department at this secure location did not properly diary my file. I was in no hurry to lose any parts of my body. I figured the longer I hobbled around keeping all weight off the leg, the better things might be.

Two weeks ago I had to go down to sick call to get a replacement for one of my crutches that broke. The cross-piece bolt snapped so I had to hobble the 200 yards down to medical clutching one crutch by the side support and hoping I did not fall on my face. On my way in to see the nurse, as luck would have it, I ran into the doctor in the hall. He made a comment about how I was still on crutches, and I mentioned about the supposed follow-up. He took my file from the nurse, looked it over and mumbled something about oops... My file was placed on top of the follow-up pile and thus the most recent trip to the new doctor.

The new doctor asked me if my leg gave me any pain when I walked and I explained that my instructions from his associate was no weight was to be put on the leg. So he asked if I put weight on it would it hurt. How was I to know I wondered? He then held my right foot, moved the leg around a bit, asking if that action caused any pain. "No, it did not," I replied. He prodded the area of my leg where the break occurred and still no pain.

He then suggested that I start off by using just one crutch for a while and then no crutch. Oddly, he never had me stand up and try walking in his office to see how it would feel to put weight on the leg.

Since I have not used my leg in eight months, I am still using both crutches, but putting weight on the right leg with each step. It is amazing how strange it feels to be able to "stand on my own two feet."

I am still feeling shaky balance wise, and already the calf muscle in my right leg is letting me know that it is not used to having to bear its burden of being part of the body. Buck up muscle.

The surgeon is still of the opinion that since the break has not fully healed, at some point the pain from the not fully healed leg bone will cause me to beg for hip replacement surgery. The doctor told me that the only point of the operation was for pain management. I says, pain, hey I am in prison, pain smain. Oops, I might have slipped into the lingua prisona.

My plan for now is to continue to walk with the aid of both crutches till I am sure the muscles in the leg are up to doing their part, and then work my way through the one crutch phase, followed by the no crutch phase. I am scheduled to see the surgeon in two months for another follow-up unless the pain becomes unbearable.

At this point my arms are already feeling very grateful, and there is no pain yet. Stay tuned for further updates.

Wonder Wheel.

2008-11-14T10:20:00.003-05:00

"Trying to Uphold Coney Island's Character, City Buys Wonder Wheel Site," a headline in a recent NY Times article certainly caught my attention. As a child growing up in the New York City area, Coney Island always was a place that I hoped Dad would steer the car off the Belt Parkway and stop at.

When we would head home from visiting Grandma, we would pass by this wonderful site of rides and other attractions. As we neared the exit that would deliver us to the rides, there would be some quiet mumbling from the front seat of the car as Mom and Dad would discuss if stopping off at Coney Island was an option. Okay, maybe it would be more like Dad wanting to stop and hoping Mom (who had the pocketbook with the money) would agree.

Most of the time there was a standard two-pack we all would enjoy. First, was the ride on the Wonder Wheel and then each of us would get an order of Nathan's French Fries.

The Wonder Wheel is a rather unique Ferris wheel in that it has two different types of car's to ride in. One set is the traditional and simply hangs in the same position on the wheel with some mild rocking back and forth. Each of the second set travels on their own oval track within the circular structure of the wheel. As you begin to climb up higher on the ride the car begins to slide into the center of the wheel. This would always provoke giddy laughter from us kids, and a mild exclamation from Mom. "Ooh, Honey," Mom would say, holding tightly to Dad's arm.

One time Mom and Dad sent us three kids on a ride by ourselves. This was certainly a unique experience. The ride was called the Bobsled. It was an older ride and a form of roller coaster. The ride started off by diving into a dark tunnel where a loud siren blasted you right out of your seat. You emerged from the dark at the top of the hill and started racing down a wooden trough without any tracks to guide the 'sled'. The sled was had around ten cars, each two seats that held four people, on wheels. Since there was no track to guide the sled, you would slither like a snake up and down the sides of the trough. It did move a lot faster than any snake we had ever seen. After the ride we discovered that Mom and Dad knew about the ride from their younger days and did not warn us about the darkness or the siren.

We would occasionally get to ride the bumper cars and the carousel, but it was the Wonder Wheel that was the standard ride each time we stopped at Coney Island. Coney Island is located on the beach in Brooklyn, NY. Out one side of the Wonder Wheel you could see miles of the ocean, on the other all of Brooklyn.

The Nathan's fries are special in that they are freshly cut and fried twice right on the premises. This double frying gives a nice crunchy outside and moist tasty inside. Served with lots of catsup, they are a much better fry than served at Burger King or McDonalds.

Dad Died.

2008-11-07T23:56:00.002-05:00

It has been about two weeks since I received the news that my dad had passed away.

If you have a death in the immediate family, New York State Department of Corrections will take you to the funeral service provided it is within the borders of New York State. As the celebration of my dad's life took place in Pennsylvania, this excluded my attendance.

There was the semi-annual REC event held last weekend in the facility gym. Ironically the last time I visited with my parents was in the gym at a family event in June of 2007.

REC (Residents Encounter Christ) is a three day retreat sponsored by the Albany Diocese of the Roman Catholic Church. They sponsor REC's in about seven facilities in this area. This was the 42nd one held at my location.

On Saturday evening we have a hootenanny which includes an additional 15 or so volunteers joining the 15 already leading the weekend. There is a lot of upbeat signing and a talk given by one of the volunteers about finding peace.

After the talk, I had the opportunity to dedicate and sing a hymn to my dad. I briefly shared with my fellow inmates and the volunteers that I was celebrating Dad's life and that by default they were all being included in the celebration. I mentioned how the last time I saw my father was in the gym and that my dad would have certainly enjoyed the evening with all the singing and inspirational talk.

The song was "I Am the Bread of Life" by Suzanne Toolan, SM. Let me sing it for you. Oops that will not work.

It is originally published by G.I.A. Publications and I know it is in the ELCA "Evangelical Lutheran Worship", hymn # 485 if anyone cares to look up the music.

The words follow:

Refrain: And I will raise you up, and I will raise you up and I will raise you up on the last day,
l. I am the Bread of Life, You who come to me shall not hunger, and who believe in me shall not thirst, no one can come to me unless the Father beckons.
2. The bread that I will give is my flesh for the life of the world and if you eat of this bread, you shall live forever, you shall live forever.
3. Unless you eat of the flesh of the Son of Man and drink of his blood, and drink of his blood, you shall not have life within.
4. I am the Resurrection, I am the life. If you believe in me, even though you die, you shall live forever.
5. Yes, Lord I believe that you are the Christ, The Son of God, who have come into the world.

Sunday Father John, a Franciscan, dedicated the mass to my dad.

So off you go Dad. I am proud to be your son, although I am certainly not proud of ending up in prison. I am sorry that due to my own actions I was not around to be with you and Mom as I should have been. Your constant love and support was and will be with me always and for that I am very grateful and lucky.

With the nice long phone call with Mom, the celebration at REC, the dedication of the mass today, and this blog post, I have been able to share my dad with the rest of the world, both near and far. Given the limitations I am at peace.

I LOVE YOU DAD!

Now is the time

2008-11-05T08:30:00.000-05:00

I could really use some good classical music. Where is NPR when I need it?

I dropped my radio the other day and knocked the headphone jack off the circuit board. The guy in the cube next to me did attach a different jack, but it is not doing the stereo mix right, so I am getting all one side in both ears. Maybe I will pull out the keyboard at 10 PM when the lights go out and make my own music.

This weekend, probably as you are reading this, I will be participating in the semi-annual REC retreat. REC = Residents Encounter Christ. It is sponsored by the Albany Diocese and there will be about fifteen volunteers from the outside. About fifty inmates will start out at Friday around noon. It will last till 9:00 PM Friday night, Saturday from 8 AM till 9 PM and Sunday 8:00 to 3:00.

It will certainly be helpful to be surrounded by some human beings that care about us inmates as people.

Well that is all for now. Thanks to you for your continued support and for being my friend.

Sad News.

2008-11-02T22:26:00.001-05:00

I came back to the dorm around 7:30 PM and the following letter was waiting for me:

Dear Son,

I have missed your letters and phone calls. In the meantime I have been very busy with Dad. He needed multiple rounds of chemotherapy treatments and many blood transfusions.

He seemed to be doing very well at one time and celebrated his 80th birthday here at the house. It was well attended by many people. family from near and far, friends from NY and PA, old friends from St. Stevens church and many others.

After the party he enjoyed a couple of comfortable months when all seemed to be doing well in his blood.

However, two weeks ago he slowed down quite a bit and was having a lot of difficulty breathing. The doctor initially thought that he might be dehydrated as Dad did not like drinking a lot of liquids. He was not always so good at telling the doctor how he was feeling.

He got an infection in one of his teeth and his body was not able to fight it off due to the chemotherapy treatments. On Friday, he was taken to the hospital by ambulance and he died the next day on Saturday evening.

Dad was cremated and a memorial service was held at St. John's Lutheran Church on Saturday. It was so crowded that they needed to set up extra chairs. His ashes were spread by the family from the bridge at the bottom of the falls.

How are you getting along now with your leg? Are you still playing at the two church services?

It is okay to call me here at the house.

I am enclosing the normal money order.

Love,
[signed] Mother

So now what? It is 9:00 PM here, and I will wait till tomorrow to try and call from the chaplain's office. I am entitled to one emergency phone call, and I would like to be able to make the call with Chaplain Paul around. I have told two of the inmates here in the last hour or so but hey there is no one here I can talk to at all. I can not even find a corner to cry in.

Tomorrow I will go to work in the morning and then hopefully get up to see the chaplain around 1:00 PM

Nothing new.

2008-10-27T09:36:00.001-04:00

Hello there. I am using the borrowed typewriter again. It is just 9:00 PM here so I have about 40 minutes or so to get this typed.

We are having the semi-annual Residents Encounter Christ (REC) retreat in two weeks. It starts at noon on Friday. This time it looks like I will be responsible for setting up the sound system and playing organ for some Spanish songs, but more on the whole chapel thing to come.

I have heard nothing new on my leg. It was the Friday of last April's REC that I started my journey to the Saturday morning leg surgery. Time flies when you have to do it on one leg. Ha Ha

It is time for lights out, so off this goes. More to follow.

Hope life is being kind to you.

What Next?

2008-10-22T21:54:00.002-04:00

It is just after 4:00 PM here at Camp Run-A-Muk and I have managed to stay somewhat on task up till now. Mail call has occurred and I received last Sunday's NY Times along with this past Thursday and Friday. I have looked at the page one's of each and scanned a few special items I usually look at first in the Sunday paper. The second page of the Week in Review, for the cartoons and late night talk show jokes from the past week. The Ethicist from the Sunday Magazine section is another area of first perusal.

Today's mail also brought the latest Hamilton Books catalog. This one is the one with all books costing $2.95, $3.95, and $4.95. A two disc DVD collection of the 2003 & 2004 Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issues is available for only $3.95. Hmm, I guess babes in swimsuits have a shelf life.

Now what do I write more? Start to work on filling out my bi-weekly commissary sheet, practice the keyboard, make some dinner, read through at least one of the three papers received. No shortage of things to do. I have my bed covered with the various stacks of papers I have been using to type today. That has the side benefit of preventing me from lying down.

As I think I mentioned I am now in leg limbo. The doctor that did the operation to put the three pins into my femur to get it to heal has handed off my case to another surgeon in the office that does hip replacements. I am willing to challenge the notion that I need to have the operation NOW. As strange as it may seem while I am certainly tired of not being able to stand on my own two feet, why give up after investing almost six months in the healing process? My alleged higher than normal metabolism does not appear to include fast healing of broken bones. Since this is my first broken bone, it is sort of late in life to find that out.

All of the above items mentioned as To-Do should be done yet today, before 11 PM. The only must do, if I want to have any treats and not have to eat state issue food for the next two weeks, is to fill out the commissary sheet. I did receive some good news last week. My latest cholesterol levels have apparently gone done to the proper range. As a result of the commissary only carrying artificial cheese, I no longer buy the American and cream cheese.

My basic diet now consists of starting the day with a bowl of oatmeal, one toasted English muffin and a large mug full of ice tea. Lunch usually is in two parts. A peanut butter (crunchy) and jelly sandwich at 10:00 while at work. Yes I work in the mess hall, but I do not usually eat the food. And a second sandwich around 2:00 PM. Dinner is either a can of black beans with some chopped onions and other spices added or a can of tuna (chunk in water) either as part of a pasta (cold spaghetti noodles 1/3 pound) salad or tuna salad sandwich. I have been using some nacho chips to flavor the beans or as a dipper with the tuna salad.

Still have not come across that beef jerky article.

Before I begin to type pure nonsense, let me put all the paperwork away for the day, take it as being a good start at getting back on the writing track and begin to tackle the other must do items for today. I want to thank you all for reading my musings, and as always feel free to leave comments or questions. I know this blog has been rather thin on stimulating content lately and that has been caused by a number of events that have just left me with the feeling that not much I do matters.

The fault in that thinking is obvious. One must live as if each and every minute provide an opportunity for growth. It may not always be in the area or direction one wants, but life is indeed what you make of it. I am grateful for each of the people who stop by on the blog. Comments are always appreciated but I do appreciate all who just stop by, by accident or misdirect search and still spend a minute or two looking at what this blog is about.

So until the next posting arrives, stay well, safe and enjoy life it is after all here for each of us to enjoy.

Piano - Electronic versus Acoustic.

2008-10-19T21:48:00.002-04:00

Let me see if I can use this one post to shoot three birds at one time. Bird one, the reason to buy a budding piano student an electronic keyboard instead of a real piano. Bird two, get some questions I have about keyboard/computer interface and what options are available for building a library of songs to enable the use of the keyboard for prison religious services. Bird three, some more pieces to the puzzle of Prison Pete.

First I need to confess that one of my major faults is my failure to accept that if I can not just do a particular task without the need for practice or background grunt work I will not do it at all. There are some things in my life that have come exceptionally easy to me, and that has sort of cast my life into the realm of if I need to work at it, it is not something I will never become accomplished at so why start.

For example back when I was 13 years old and went on my first ski trip and by day two was already being taken off the beginner slope and up the mountain to ski the real trails. I knew that skiing was something I liked. I do know that at the time the 14 or so fellow classmates were all sort of pissed at the special attention I was receiving from the headmaster. I remember him yelling up the stairs early that second morning that I better bundle up because he was taking me up the mountain.

Jump ahead to my long journey to learn to play the piano. While I have been at it for over seven years now, I still can not do anything more than play one note melody lines. Why? Well part is certainly somewhat impaired fine motor skills. But then again I had been a computer programmer for over 20 years and it took my time in prison to finally buckle down and learn how to touch type.

Over the last few weeks I have begun to truly practice piano on an almost daily basis several Spanish Christian songs, with the goal being to be able to play for the Spanish Catholic service held on Monday evenings. As a side issue of my broken leg, I am not able to carry my keyboard back and forth to the chapel. This means I can no longer take the time in the unit to store up to five songs in the sequencer in the dorm, carry the keyboard to church and plug and play as it were. No, I need to be able to play live.

So as luck would have it a couple of the Spanish songs have a rather simple chord pattern, and all of a sudden I am able to use my left hand to play the auto chords, and the melody with my right hand. Yes, with that dreaded P word (practice) I can do things that in the past I was willing to accept defeat and say I would never be able to do it. Yet another benefit of incarceration I have learned that I can learn, and that not all things have to just come to me.

Granted the songs are not the most difficult, but that is another point. I do not have to start off at the top. Start with the easier part, and work my way up. Boring? No, not really. I am celebrating the little steps of progress. For those that may be familiar with Spanish music the songs I am currently working on are:

Alabare
Resucito
Arriba los Corazones

There are a few others I am practicing, but they have a few more chord changes so will take a little more practice.

I should point out that with the Yamaha keyboard you have an auto-chord option. Any single key on the right side of keyboard plays a major chord. Hold down the G key and you get a G major chord. Hold down the key or the chord you want and the next lowest black key and you get the minor chord. Hold down the next lowest white key and you get the chord with the 7th note included. Hold down all three keys, the one for the chord you want, the next lower black and white key and you get then minor chord with the 7th included. Once you play the chord it continues until you select another chord. So for now as long as the chord changes are not too frequent and the chords themselves are one of the four types that I mentioned above I am go to go.

Now a few things I have found that the keyboard really can help with the discipline needed to be a great piano player. The first is the built in metronome. Yes the old click, click, click. The electronic version does have the advantage of being able to chime on the first beat. I have found it vitally important to not just play the song without worrying about the timing. It is far better to start off with the tempo you can play the whole song at then increase the tempo as your skill with a particular song increases.

It is interesting, and frustrating at the same time to realize that a major fault of some of our current musicians in church that do not read music and play by ear end up not only changing the value of some of the longer notes in a song to make them shorter time wise, but if there is a part of the song with frequent chord changes, the tempo slows down to squeeze the chords in. This particular group gets really upset when I try to encourage the use of the metronome during practice.

So once you have practice with the metronome, and are getting the piece down, you can store it into one track of the sequencer. Once you have stored the copy played with the metronome, you play and store it again in a different track, without the metronome. Now play back both tracks and you will find which parts you need to work on your timing! I also played back the non-metronome part with the metronome pinging away to see how many beats I lost. In one case once I slowed down in one particular place, the rest of the song I was on time; in another case there were several places where I either held a note too long or not long enough.

This way of using the keyboard to provide feedback allows me to sharpen my skills and readily see the progress I am making. I do need the reinforcement that my practice is leading to progress. Step by step. Not an easy lesson for me to learn, but one is never too old to learn. A few regrets that is has taken this long to acquire the patience yes, but better now than later.

Another area the keyboard is helping sharpen my music skills is being able to put a melody line into the sequencer and then using one of the bass guitar sounds try different bass riffs. This has proven invaluable recently as a new arrival has some great raw talent with the bass guitar and what seems to be a great sense of timing, but alas no music reading skill. Yet he is willing to learn to read the bass clef, which I am gladly teaching him. In the meantime, I am able to come up with some simple bass riffs for some of the songs we are playing. Some of the music we have is only melody line with the chords written above the staff. Since the new bass player does not know what notes make up the various chords, I will be able to write out different bass riffs for each song.

The sound quality of the low end keyboards has certainly improved over the years and even the low end keyboards have the ability to determine the volume of any individual note based on how fast the key is pressed down.

I know that most of the software available for making 'electronic' music allows the computer to handle the whole thing. The tones these days are all samples of real instruments and the only use for a musical keyboard is to use it as an entry device to get 'notes' into the software. Back up a few steps and this is where I need some more information.

I know you can transfer MIDI files from the Yamaha keyboard (my model is the PSR-E403, YPT-400) to a computer. I also know you can load new songs into the Yamaha, but I wonder how much room there is for these songs.

What I would like to design is a way to take songs that I have entered into one of the 5 songs available on the Yamaha, and transfer it to a computer. I know that this is already available; the key here is to be able to edit these MIDI files and also enter new music directly to the software. It is my assumption that software exists that can take a standard MIDI file and display it on the screen in normal music notation. Any errors can be easily corrected and the song saved. Each week we could load the hymns for the service that week into the keyboard. The hope is that the way this system would work is that we would not need to have the computer attached to the keyboard to 'play' the hymns. And since we are not using the computer to generate the musical sounds we would not need to have the latest and fastest computer system.

There you have it, three dead birds and I wonder if I was clear enough to have made their deaths worth it. Please feel free to ask any questions on the above. I love comments. I would like to get this blog back on track and be able to share my journey with the rest of the world, yet not go off on a whining campaign or cast aspersions on some of my keepers. This music issue is really one of my top ten concerns and I would really appreciate any information anyone has about putting together some system that would allow prison chapels to have 'live' music without having a live musician.

Problem Solving.

2008-10-16T18:57:00.002-04:00

A major problem for me is moving off square one. As many of you know from reading this blog, I tend to have periods of intense activity, and then long periods of nothingness.

Over the last four years one consistent thing in my life has been the delivery of the New York Times. Damn I just spent 30 minutes looking through four of those black marble hard cover composition books looking for an article that I thought I had put in one of the books. The article was about beef jerky, and how one college in Texas had developed a 'natural' beef jerky. It was selling this at a price that was about 25% cheaper than usual prices. The article listed about four companies that were the subject of 'jerky' reviews. The reason I had cut the article was to ask anyone out there to get information on how I could order some of the jerky. Now I do not know where the article ended up. I know I have it here somewhere, but where?

If someone is so inclined, you could go to the NY Times website, search for article on beef jerky, and if you have found the right article there will be a listing for one of the Texas schools that sell jerky. Now once you have gone this far, if you could obtain the ordering information and drop a note as a comment on the blog that would be great.

Related to this issue is a book review blurb I have in front of me that is from the Thursday, June 15, 2006 New York Times. Yes 2006! See what I mean about moving off square one? The book, "Leaving Church, A Memoir of Faith" by Barbara Brown Taylor. She was a rector of an Episcopal Church. She chronicles the challenges she faced. The book was published by Harper San Francisco. At this point I am wondering if anyone has a copy of this they might be willing to send me, and then I could return it after I have read it? There are a number of books I have clipped reviews for and I will dig through them to see if there are any other books out there that you all may be reading and are willing to share.

As an alternative, perhaps someone who likes to find book bargains online would be willing to act as my shopper. I would be willing to forward a deposit to cover the cost of ordering the books. I am assuming that a book like Leaving Church originally published at $23.95 could now be found for around $5.00? If this is the case then this would be a great way for me to get some of the specific books I would like to read.

I and my fellow residents at this secure location will read almost any book, so if you would like to clear out your closets or bookshelves, you can take advantage of the deal the US Post Office offers for sending books, "Media Mail" and know that your former books will indeed enjoy a new and long life of entertaining and possibly educating people that desperately need both!

How long ago was this article? Duh. I am not sure.

The point of this post was to point out some of the problems that exist being "Fenced In." Something as simple as stopping by the local library or the local mega-book store to pick up a book of interest is next to impossible. Yet reading is one of the most basic ways those of us being housed by various government authorities can enrich our lives and add to the rehabilitation efforts that is provided to us.

Okay, so now that I have places the title of a book I want to read on the official record of my journey through prison I can now throw out the article. One less piece of paper. Either someone out there will see this post and send me the book, or once I am out, I can review the archives of this blog and go find my own copy.

In the meantime I have also listed yet another piece to the puzzle that is Prison Pete, and might end up encouraging yet another reader out there to become a pen-pal. Yes a shameless plug for pen pals, but it never hurts to ask, does it?

While the rest of the world is moving at the speed of instant communication, there still are some of us who rely on the life line of snail mail for our contact with the outside world. Guess that is the point, we are not 'outside' we are the insiders and for the most part all of us will be an outsider at some point in the future.

If you know someone who is currently in prison and you do write to him or her, let me confirm that there is never a time that the receipt of a letter from the outside doesn't make one of us insiders smile from ear to ear. Those of you writing keep doing so, it is a very important task you do.

Those of you that are not among those that know someone in prison that you could write to are encouraged to adopt me as a pen-pal. Yet another shameless plug. See what happens when I am not otherwise engaged? I happen to have an entire day off from work and other programs, so am endeavoring to make a major dent in my to do pile. Before starting this post, I typed two letters for two of my neighbors, and a thank you note to one of my relatives for some family pictures of my dad's 80th birthday party.

So let’s see, the book review was from 2006, the pictures were received September 12, 2008, now on to some of the to-do stuff in the middle.

But first a break for some lunch and let us hope more typing this afternoon as opposed to giving up and taking an afternoon siesta. Stay tuned.

Leg report - Breaking News.

2008-10-14T09:04:00.003-04:00

Be careful what you wish for. I had been anxiously awaiting my next follow-up appointment. I had a second CAT scan back in August. After more than five months on crutches and not putting any weight on my right leg, it appears it is still not healing! The alternative to the femur not healing itself: rip it and part of my perfectly good hip out, and replace with man-made (as opposed to God-given) parts.

Now I again am reaching out to my ever faithful readers and asking for any input on the subject of hip replacements. I know there is more than one type, and at this point I still have not met the surgeon who will be doing the operation. The surgeon that did the first operation, placing three pins into the femur to hold the ball end of the bone in place, no longer does the full hip replacement surgery. This could be a good thing since this created the opportunity for an automatic second opinion.

From a pure layman's perspective, I see reason for my continued use of crutches, keeping all weight off my leg until the bone either heals or begins to die.

So now if you are reading this you are asked to put your two cents in. What are the questions?

How long can I wait to see if bone will heal?

And do you have personal experience with hip replacement hardware?

Emotional shutdown.

2008-10-13T22:01:00.000-04:00

I am typing this letter on a borrowed Wordsmith. I am helping an inmate with some legal work so I am able to use the typewriter with my ribbons to type this letter.

I have been running on emotional shutdown mode for the last several weeks, and as you have noticed there has been no letters flowing your way. There were a couple that might have crossed with your last letter, but I certainly need to get my act together and start writing again.

This is not meant to be a poor me letter, part of the lack of mail is precisely an attempt on my part to not end up writing you pages of poor Pete shit. I think that is an improvement, but with little other emotional support available, it ends up taking me forever to get the energy up to write.

I had another CAT scan of my leg a week ago last Friday, and expect to see the surgeon some time in the next few days for yet another follow up. I had seen the doctor around the end of July and an in office X-ray showed that the screws were now sticking out from the site of the break. I got the impression that this was due to the bone pulling itself together, but the doctor still insisted that I keep all weight off the leg. It has now been over four months on the crutches. I will say this though, my back feels great. I even had to lengthen the crutches last week as I appear to now be standing straighter.

I was sort of psyching myself up to the fact that I must be losing weight having cut back the biweekly pint of ice cream to just a nutty buddy cone, and went from 14 bags of M&M's to 8 but alas on the scale this past Friday I am holding at 210.

Damn time for a shower before lights out.

Dealing with emotions.

2008-10-12T11:13:00.002-04:00

It is now 5:45 PM and I will hopefully work on this letter to you right up until 10:00. I am not going to type a draft out first since we are dealing with emotions here and I want to be able to cover as much ground as possible. Life it seems would be really easy to deal with if we left emotion out.

Yes life would certainly be different without the emotions. While I would have hoped for some support from the home front with my current medical problems, such as practical things like some high protein foods and the flow of emotional concern through phone call and letters, but all I have been met with is silence.

I think I have done some good writing in the past about how prison affects my emotional state and it is my intention to again return to that kind of writing. Life lived with emotion and vigor is a constant balancing game. Certainly I have felt ignored by you from time to time, yet you have certainly been the greatest friend one could hope for while doing time. Another example for me is that while I am back in front of the computer, I am not able to devote any time to typing letters yet that would certainly be much easier (and cheaper) than using this typewriter.

Acknowledging that there is a finite amount of time, how do we know we are spending it the right way? One of the things my ex-wife use to complain about is how while we were living with my parents those first years of our marriage, I would always end up talking to my mom first when I came home from work before heading downstairs to our 'home.' And she was right to feel slighted!

I do not want to turn this into a poor Pete piece. I am wondering as the song says "Is That All There Is?" On this point I think we both have some common ground to cover. Am I doomed to a life of homeless shelters, poverty and loneliness? Are you never going to experience life as complete, a relationship that is based on mutual support and LOVE? You mention you are envious of other couples that seem happy, but perhaps there are other aspects of their relationship that would drive you to drink? Maybe not. It becomes a question of dealing with what we have, and what changes we can make and at what cost.

I am still confident that once I am able to have some type of access to a computer I will be able to earn a living where my background will not be an issue. I am not talking about even earning a lot of money, just enough to be able to support myself. I am serious about trying to rebuild a network of friends something I never really had before, but now with a much better understanding of who I am, I think I can be the kind of person others would like to get to know.

Can the blog help start this process? Certainly not the way I have been not writing lately. I have got to change that. Other then the current ribbon shortage the good news is that I have only myself to blame for lack of postings and I can also remedy that. Cool I have control of something in my life.

It is happening. I am losing desire to continue on this subject. It amazes me how much more aware of my emotions I am. The one drawback is the lack of options I have to handle the running down of the emotional batteries. No Internet to jump on to, no friend to call; I could stuff myself on the food in my locker, but I have been getting better at not pigging out. I do have plans to pig out a bit tomorrow. I brought an 8 oz pack of shredded mozzarella last Tuesday and will be making 6 - 8 English muffin pizzas in honor of my 52nd birthday.

Thanks again and again and again for being my friend.

On the Dad front.

2008-10-10T11:52:00.000-04:00

I finally received a letter from Mom and Dad. At the time Dad wrote the letter he was still getting advice as to treatment options. He mentioned that he needed blood transfusions on Friday and Monday.

My dad will be 80 this year, and certainly I have wasted the last 12+ years of my relationship with my dad, and it now looks like I may never get to see him again.

I think I do not read enough of the New York Times, but yet I read things you did not. Asperger's tends to leave one with a troubled sense of balance. How much time should I spend reading the paper, how do I decide what to read. I do remember a recent article that said the average reader spent 40 minutes a day reading the paper. One of the things I do think the hard copy paper has over the web is that with the web you are more likely to read things that interest you, and may even have various sites set up to filter stories that cover a certain company or location. I do scan each and every page to the paper and constantly end up reading stories that if I was searching for news as opposed to allowing the Times to offer a smorgasbord of stories to pick from.

For example while I am certainly not a sports fan, I love to read the stories about the new baseball stadiums being built in New York, the way the Mets are honoring Jackie Robinson and other techie-type sports stories.

I have hundreds of articles that I have clipped out of the paper. I decided to start going through them and thin out the 20 different manila envelopes. The first story was about the Pentagon sending nuclear arming devices to China instead of helicopter parts. Oops. That would make a great blog post.

To err is human, to really screw things up you need a computer, but to really, really, really screw things up it takes the US Government. Also I thought perhaps that might make a great plot line for an espionage thriller. That is my problem, I see these articles, know that I might be able to use it at some in the future and so the collections grow. Sure if I had a computer, with internet access I could build an electronic index but alas...

If you remember I was doing the volleyball thing while back at Club Fed. I dislocated my ring finger on my left hand. It was reset by the PA on duty and the finger is not exactly the way it should be. Rule number 1: if they have no sports medicine in prison, I better not play sports. So how the hell did my leg get broken? But there is a lot more to that story too.

Should I mention that your hard earned tax dollars are keeping me here in the lap of luxury? Sorry, I know that it is not a laughing matter. I do think we need to have a serious look at what the government should be responsible for, and then how to pay for it. I think it is amazing every time there is a story about how much of the war effort is done by "private" companies, and the billions of dollars that is paid out under the no-bid contracts. I think I have an article that says it is over 50 percent of the dollars spent by the Pentagon.

As an aside, I wish I had met with the parole board this month. Apparently, the word came down from the governor that he wants to close some prisons. This despite the fact that the four that were supposed to be closed under the just passed budget will remain open. So it appears a few more inmates than usual that met the board this path month were released. Guys who already had been denied several times before. That just shows how flawed the system is. It is not, as it should be, whether you would be a law abiding citizen upon your release, it is let us see how many bodies we need to keep in the system this month. Life is not fair, and then there is the justice system.

Broken Typewriter.

2008-07-25T16:53:00.002-04:00

[Editor] I know there haven't been many new posts lately. Part of the reason is that Pete has been sending me more handwritten letters than typed letters. I can easily scan typewritten letters and post them to the blog in just a few minutes, but handwritten letters are a problem. Unfortunately I'm not a fast typist and I just don't have the time to retype all of his letters.

Now to make matters worse, his typewriter just broke and he will have to send it out for repair. At best this will take about a month.

In the past some kind blog readers volunteered to retype some of Pete's letters, which I then posted to the blog. If there are any readers who would like to help type, please send me an email. I scan all his letters and save them as pdf files. I can easily send you a pdf file and you can send me back typed text in any format.

Otherwise the blog may be inactive for a while. But it's not dead. Stay tuned. Pete writes to me once or twice per week. I'll try to post some short updates from his letters from time to time.

The Leg Report.

2008-07-19T14:31:00.001-04:00

Today is Tuesday already and I promised you all an update on my medical condition as soon as it was received. But like many things I promise, life as a correctional resident gets in the way.

I had hoped for good news on Friday morning but alas it was not to be. On the other hand I did not get BAD news.

It turns out that according to the CAT scan the fracture line is still visible. This fracture line is on my right femur just below the ball that sits in the hip socket. There are three pins holding the bone together. As of now I am still holding onto all my original equipment. No artificial parts have been added yet.

According to my surgeon, the area of the break has minimal blood flow and as such, healing, if any occurs, takes time. While he has always told me that there was a good chance that the bones would not fuse, he has taken the long view and is giving the bones plenty of time.

The operation took place on April 19, 2008. We are just over two months of healing. At this point I am not putting any weight on my right leg. I am mobile with the aid of a trusty pair of crutches. It is certainly an interesting experience when I am hobbling along the walkways and letting my mind wander and next thing I know I am about to free fall onto my face.

I am in a wait and see mode with any decision at least six to eight weeks away. Even though some healing is taking place, it might not be at a fast enough pace. At that point I am told that the option would be to put in a replacement ball and hip socket. I am willing to continue to hobble along as long as the chance that I get to keep my original issue parts inside me where they belong.

Time will tell and at this time that is what I have a lot of. Time.

A Contest!

2008-05-26T18:49:00.001-04:00

Peoples start your creativity engines, please...

One of my hopes when I am released is to work toward the creation of a non-profit organization for spreading religious music resources in prison. This organization would coordinate both live music and resources for use of tapes, CD and Midi files to provide music for various worship services and other programs.

I will provide more details on my vision over the next few weeks. For now I am asking for suggestion for a logo/letterhead design. The initial name of the organization is:

Prison Music Ministry-org

Hopefully that name is not already registered. If it is, and my trusty editor will hopefully note that here, then not only do I need a logo design but please come up with some alternative names. If the blog can support it I have sent along a draft of one possible letterhead. Feel free to use this one, or come up with one of your own.

Thank you in advance for all your assistance. What no responses yet?

They mention me in a PC magazine Tip.

2008-05-25T07:21:00.000-04:00

A recent issue of PC Magazine included 501 tips for better computing. On the last page of the issue "BACK SPACE" they added tips 502 - 507 labeled "The Most Useful Tips in This Entire Issue":

Tip 503. Be Careful

Your subscription to PC Magazine should give you the ability to communicate effectively with your IT guy, not question his buying decisions or ponytail. Especially not the ponytail.

Yes I do have a pony tail... and no you can not ask...

On My Wall.

2008-05-24T11:23:00.001-04:00

Since I recently moved into a different dorm upon my return from my little medical sojourn, I only have a few "headlines" on my wall.

There was a recent full page ad for the Spanish television Univision channel. Part of the ad talks about how some people view television as a way to escape. Yep you guessed it via some careful ruler work, I have the following on the wall:

"A way to escape."

Directly under that 1" by 8 " line is:

“The fun starts here"

On the one hand these two lines could be asking for trouble. Possession of any material that might relate to escape plans is considered a no-no.

The other item is a headline from the New York Times Arts section. On Monday, May 12, 2008 on page E6 the following headline sat atop the continuation of a story from page 1 of the Arts section:

"Place for Practice, Practice: Musical Hub is Plenned"

Now that really caught my eye. I checked the first page of the story, and they had a different headline there and I carefully read the article to see if it mentioned the word plenned. Nope. I then pulled out the 2,000 plus page dictionary and no way could I find any word the Plenned could have come from. No plen, no nothing.

I really have to wonder how this could possibly slip by the supposed multilevel fact checking that goes into each story before it is printed. The other point is since the archives of the papers are all digital these days do they simply go back and rewrite the headline, and the mistake just goes away?

Cancer.

2008-05-23T18:32:00.000-04:00

I received your get well wishes (on card and envelope!) on Thursday. Thank you.

On Friday I received word via a family friend that my dad has stage 4 Myelodysplastic Syndrome. She sent me a four page printout from Seattle Cancer Alliance. According to what I read it is several different diseases that all affect the blood-forming cells.

The article mentions three risk factors: exposure to toxins, such as benzene, radiation or certain solvents or pesticides, over many years; smoking; chemotherapy or radiation used to treat cancer. Dad certainly has none of those risk factors!

So for now I guess my hope to be able to get out of prison before either of my parents die is fading fast. This also makes the point of me looking to establish some sort of support system on the outside more critical. My one hope for being able to take care of Mom and Dad upon my release while I work at putting my life back together does not look like an option.

As far as how I am doing, besides the heavy emotional burden, my leg is still causing stabbing pains every once in a while and I hope that is a good sign as opposed to the symptom of the bones not fusing. I have been hobbling around keeping all weight off it.

I spent several hours in front of the computer today and had a blast of a time working on some exotic report layouts. Boy I can not wait till I really figure out all the stuff I can get access to do!

The one thing that is a new challenge is working with queries. I can use some of the software's wizards, but then look under the hood as it were to see what the actual query statements look like. I am also getting better at using the Visual Basic stuff.

Let me write a few short posts for the blog and then crawl into bed and rest my very tired body!

Random Thoughts With a Broken Leg.

2008-05-19T08:27:00.002-04:00

I am having a hard time dealing with my broken leg. Okay, the surgeon says hip.

What is true is that I broke the right femur right under the ball that fits into the hip socket. I have three or four pins that are attempting to allow the bone to fuse itself back together. I am due to see the doctor in three more weeks and may know at that time if there is any possibility that this operation will succeed.

At that point it may not yet be clear as to success or failure and in any case the doctor said it could take up to three months to reach full healing. I am keeping all weight off the leg as he instructed me last Monday. Unfortunately I was told by some of the prison nursing staff several days earlier that I was supposed to put weight on it!

Hobbling around on one leg with a pair of crutches in prison is a real challenge to say the least. There are many tasks that I can not accomplish without asking for another inmate's assistance.

I was talking to one to the counselors that appears to have a strong background in sports related injuries and his advice to me was to be sure I ate healthily. One wonders how healthy the food the state provides is.

For the fourteen days following my surgery, all I ate was the regular prison diet. I was in a medical ward which was a room with four beds, a shower and toilet. The only activity was to lie in bed, or sit in a chair and watch TV or sleep. I did not have my glasses so reading was not an option.

When I returned to my usual secure location last Friday, I weighed in at 214 pounds. That means I had lost at least 6 pounds eating all the food I could and expending minimal physical energy. Now that I am up and hobbling around the compound, one wonders how "healthy" I would be eating if not for my ability to purchase cans of tuna fish, peanut butter, American cheese and pasta from the commissary. I need protein!

When I received my property last Monday, I was saddened to find out that my fellow inmates in my former dorm (yes I did end up losing my cherished corner cube) had appropriated all of my food supplies save one bottle of cinnamon, and all my plastic bowls, cooking spoons, etc. There is absolutely no honor among inmates. Despite all the random acts of kindness I would perform in the dorm, when the opportunity arises for free stuff, it becomes a question of what can I get.

It is yet another one of the conundrums of prison life. Supposedly one of the criteria the parole board can use to decide if I should be released is how I got along with other inmates. But I ask you, how do you deal with people that you know at the first opportunity will take advantage of you?

While I am willing to continue to assist my fellow inmates, I refuse to invest any emotional energy in a relationship that is solely based on what can you do for me right now and no, it does no stop me from robbing you blind (or standing by while others do the thieving) as soon as the opportunity arises.

My Last 17 Days.

2008-05-18T07:51:00.000-04:00

On April 12, I decided I had sat on my ass long enough and made my third trip in the two years I have been here up to the Rec yard.

I walked for about 90 minutes, and did not feel too bad considering I have been sitting around my cube doing minimal physical exercise. I walked again on Monday, and then one last time on Thursday, April 17.

Somehow between walking on Thursday between noon and 3 PM and one more trip up the hill to the activity building at 3:30 for an ILC meeting and about 5:00 AM Friday morning, I fractured my right femur, right below the point where it forms the ball that sits in the hip!

I was at the surgeon's office today and saw the x-ray of my hip. It turns out the procedure (the surgeon?) has a high failure rate and the result of that failure would by replacing some of my God given parts with manmade alternatives.

The goal is not only to have the bone mend, but also not leave the ball starved of vital nutrients so that it does not "die".

This entire escapade started to evolve at around 7:30 AM on Friday morning when I discovered while lying on my right side in my tightie whities and T-shirt, that I could not move from this position. I had been hobbling around for most of the night, and had signed up to go to sick call in the morning anyhow.

Somehow upon returning from a trip to the bathroom around 5:00 AM and getting back into bed, curling up while lying on the right side I completely broke the bone. As I said in my last letter, I later thought this might be the result of a long forgotten injury,

Meanwhile I had my neighbor alert the officer that I could not get out of bed. He calls for the area sergeant, who calls for the nurse to come up and supervise my transfer from the bed to a folding canvas stretcher at floor level. Between the nurse, another officer, the sergeant, and one or two inmates I am lifted by the bottom sheet and placed on the stretcher.

Since I have nothing but bad luck, there was no medical doctor in attendance on Friday. Between a phone consult one of the nurses decided that some Ben-gay applied to my right thigh would make my pain go away.

I was transferred to an observation room. I had thought I was waiting for the doctor to make an appearance. The nurse returns about thirty minutes later and is ready to move me out of the infirmary, back to my unit and comes in with a pair of crutches. I attempt to stand on the crutches and am not able to move forward one bit. The nurse seems to think I am faking for whatever reason. They then decide to send me across the street to the infirmary.

I am placed in a wheel chair, pushed out to the van and then have to literally crawl my way from wheel chair to the 12 passenger van. The officers offer no assistance; they are not supposed to anyhow, and one of the officers supposes that it might be my sciatic nerve and tells me how he had the problem and how they pump you full of drugs to solve the problem. This is exciting to the officer since he is hopping the once the doctor agrees with his diagnosis, he hopes he will be the lucky one to take me to the Medical Center earning a whole bunch of overtime!

I finally end up on the x-ray table. After taking my close-up, and while still lying on the table, I hear the x-ray tech say something about a broken hip.

Talk about your big sinking sensation. I am left on the table while they figure out what to do. The bottom line is an ambulance is called and I am dropped off at the local area hospital. Then they take some blood, evaluate the x-rays and decide they do not want anything to do with me. They call for another ambulance and give me a shoot of the pain killer Dilaudid. We are off again to the Med Center.

I spend most of Friday evening in the hallway with many other infirmed, the only difference being I am guarded by two gun toting correction officers. Eventually I am admitted to the prison wing and am put in a single room.

Saturday Morning I sign surgery authorization for either a full or partial hip replacement.

Just before I am ushered into surgery I meet the surgeon that will be doing the operation and he says they are not doing the hip replacement they are going to put the pins in.

I survive the operation, and by Monday afternoon I am picked up and dropped off back at the Infirmary.

The infirmary consists of two rooms with four beds, one shower and one toilet, and one color TV.

I was in this infirmary for two weeks, initially getting around by use of a walker, then graduating to crutches.

Since I was yanked out of the hospital so soon I never talked to the surgeon, only one of his assistants. This individual changed the dressing on my wound on Monday, and led me to believe that what they were waiting for was the results of a pathology report to confirm no bone disease, and I would be good to put weight on it. This report was due within four or five days.

Since I was eager to break out of my isolation, I did not even have my glasses, so all I could do was watch TV or sleep, I made sure the nurse followed up for that report. When it was faxed over and apparently confirmed no bone disease, I was given the go ahead to put some weight on the right leg, for a day or two with the walker, then the crutches. One of the nurses even took me out into the hall way one night and encouraged me to put as much weight on it as I could.

Finally on Friday, May 2, at around 1:00 they decide to send me back to my normal government funded secure location.

I arrived too late to receive any of my personal property which in my two week absence had been packed away and my sweet corner location given away to another inmate. Yes they jump into your grave quickly around here.

So I end up in a different dorm. I am issued the most basic supplies, sheets, blanket, towel, wash cloth, tooth brush. I had hoped I would simply drop back into my corner cube and be able to run a brush through my mangy hair for the first time in two weeks. I had no access to any shampoo or comb and brush for the two weeks I was in the infirmary.

The one bright spot was I went down to the kitchen Saturday morning and the person that had been stopping me from working on the computer has finally retired Friday. Ironically, at his retirement party he told two of the staff that works in the kitchen that now they could have their computer back. I was operating with quite a handicap since I still was without my reading glasses so could not see some of the print on the screen.

By Sunday I had the computer system back up to date data wise and was eagerly awaiting Monday so that I could get my glasses and really get to work. I also got to go to church on Sunday and it was good to be among some friendly caring people.

Then Monday arrives, and the storm clouds begin to gather. I headed out to sick call at 7:00 AM with hopes of getting some more definitive information as to what I should and should not be doing. I get in to see the nurse and she tells me that I am scheduled to see the surgeon this afternoon.

That was good news. I return to the dorm around 8:00 AM and ask the officer to call about me getting my property. Since I was due to leave at 12:30 for the appointment, I would not be around in the afternoon.

I roped in another inmate to assist me and went down to collect about 12 bags of my property. Plus my keyboard and typewriter. I consider this a good sign and assumed that I would find most of my worldly possessions safely tucked away in the bags.

The first couple of bags gave me even more reason to feel secure as some of the things one would assume would be left were in the bags. For example the hair ties that were on the post of my bunk, and the plastic bag with my broken fan and radio.

It was not till I was down to the last bag that I realized that all my food was missing. Cans of tuna, black beans, mackerel, sugar, spice and everything nice. All gone. They also found my envelope of stamps and that is gone as well. Here I was looking forward to my first real jolt of protein in two weeks and nothing is left. As a friend of mine used to say, cheer up things could be worse, so sure enough I cheered up and they got worse.

We arrive at the Med Center just in time for my 3:00 appointment and I get an x-ray of my hip taken. The surgeon comes in and says "You are not supposed to be putting any weight on that leg at all!" I get to see what was done and see three or four "nails" that are all that is holding the ball onto the bone. He mentions how it has already collapsed some due to my walking on it, but that it was still within the amount that it could do so.

He then told me that this surgery did not have a high success rate and it would take up to three months to see if it would take or not. If not, I would then have to have some sort of man-made parts installed!!!

I am now really feeling like shit and the officer escorting me tells me that since I am not supposed to put weight on the leg I might be moved back to an infirmary location. Egads up to three months with no access to my typewriter, keyboard, my computer job, camaraderie of the Catholic community. Stuck eating only state food. As an aside I lost at least six pounds over the last two weeks. Possibly more. I now weigh 214. Several months ago I was up around 220, and probably gained a few more pounds.

Here is the question. How if all I did was sit on my ass or lie down for the last two weeks eating every bit of state food I am provided could I lose weight? The portions are the same as everyone else gets. And now the prospect of eating only state food for three months!

So it is now 9:30 PM and I am going to finish up this letter. I am scheduled to go to commissary tomorrow, and will fill the sheet out with high hope that I will be around to pick up the items. I have already lined up another inmate to carry back the loot and am buying him a pint of ice cream for his assistance.

The thing I have not figured out is that even if I stay it would be difficult to do my own cooking, which would mean I would have to feed him for his help that would be tough to do. I could certainly handle the 1/3 pound of pasta in my hot pot. And my tuna salad is easy enough.

That is my world over the last 17 days. Is that all it has been?

Broken Leg.

2008-05-17T08:27:00.000-04:00

I am back at real work. Computer programming!!! Yeah. I received your latest letter and was warmed by the thoughts you had about getting our correspondence up to a more frequent basis.

As I write this letter I am now two weeks and two days on the road to recovery. Recovery from what you might ask. One broken right femur. I had some screws and a plate installed on my right leg, just below the ball joint. The initial surgeon's consult said I might need a partial hip replacement but that proved to be unnecessary. Thank God for that.

You might be asking how an otherwise health male of 52 could break a bone without suffering any direct trauma. That is what had the doctors worried too.

But as the pain set into the deeper recesses of my gray matter, I remembered an incident with the table saw at maintenance. We are talking at least eight months ago.

I was putting some dado grooves in 3/4" plywood for a custom cabinet I was building. The cabinet was about 36" deep and high and about 8” wide. There were four shelves. So I was cutting 36" long grooves in the two 36 x 35 side pieces to hold the shelves. In other words, the open part of the cabinet was the 36" high by 8" wide, with the shelves going back 36 inches.

At one point I lost control of the wood and it came spinning back at me, catching me in the right leg, right below the hip. It stung like hell at the time but like someone else just recently told me about his injury, I was too proud to notify any staff members. Sometimes it is staff, sometimes the wife.

So what the general consensus is I must have given myself a partial fracture, which did not get worse, but was never able to heal. About three weeks ago I finally started heading out to the Rec yard to do some speed walking. After three days, the bone finally gave way and hence I ended up in the hospital.

It seems entirely possible at this point that I was walking around with a broken femur for over eight months!

I am mobile now, with minimal weight bearing on the right leg and a pair of crutches as my constant companion.

Tears in my eyes redux.

2008-05-16T09:00:00.001-04:00

While printing out the draft of my post I was looking through my backlog of newspapers. I came across an article that brought tears to my eyes. "For Bronx School's Dancers, the Moves Are Irish", New York Times; March 14, 2008.

Caroline Duggan came over from Ireland at the age of 23 accepting a job to teach music at PS 59 in The Bronx. One has to wonder why we can not produce our own music teachers, but then again when most of the arts programs were cut from schools in the eighties. Duh.

This story highlights the difference one individual can make. I encourage you to read the story, but let me give you the highlights.

Over the last six years, Ms. Duggan has developed an Irish dance troupe, which last year managed a trip to Ireland for 32 students and 19 chaperones. The group of Bronx school children performed on Ireland's "Late Late Show" and at the official residence of the president of Ireland. They also marched in this year's St. Patrick's Day Parade in New York City.

Did I mention that the school Ms. Duggan teaches at is 71 percent Hispanic and 27 percent black? The first trip to Ireland cost $70,000 and the funds were provided by a network of Irish-American New Yorkers.

That is what I want to do. Make a difference in other people's lives. As the quote the hangs on my wall says, "Life's most persistent and urgent question is, what are you doing for others?" Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

I am happy again.

2008-05-15T09:26:00.001-04:00

Today is April 8, 2008. The date is only relevant because the post that follows this one has been sitting in the memory of my typewriter since February 25. Time flies when you are ignoring the world. (Actually it is now May 11 and I have no idea what happened to the February 25 post. Did I get it finished and mailed out or is it sitting in one of my many to-do envelopes. It is no longer in the memory of the typewriter so I do not even know what it was about.)

I am feeling good today, and starting early, 10:00 AM, to see if I can get something in the mail today. I will be editing both this post and the leftover one and if I can stay focused they will be in the mail and on their way to the blog. (Note on 5/11/08: So much for staying focused!)

I have decided to take the blog in a direction that may end up looking like a plot line from the Jim Carrey movie, The Truman Show. I have realized that in eighteen months I will be appearing in front of my first and hopefully last parole board. This particular event is occurring 60 days prior to my earliest release date of November 2009.

The journey over these eighteen months will hopefully be well documented on the blog. I am going to be honest and add that I am hoping to engage all of you readers in the journey with me. Your support will become an integral part of this journey. The emotional downside to this journey is severe. If I spend the next eighteen months planning a life outside of prison, and am denied release, then it will be two years before I get another chance at freedom. If I choose to ignore reality, and the world, (like leaving a post sitting in the memory of the typewriter for over a month) than I will certainly not be released.

Now is the time to plan. What I can use help with is getting as many different points of view of my plans, and also rely on the varied life experiences of my readership to broaden my knowledge.

In one sense I am starting with a clean slate. After spending the last 144 months incarcerated, I have little concrete knowledge of what it is going to take for me to support myself on the outside. Even the basics, food, clothing and shelter are things that I have not had to deal with. I need to gather general information to be able to formulate a plan for how I will live once I leave this life of living in a governmentally funded secure location.

Perhaps some of you may be willing to provide generic housing information. What are the rents for apartments in a particular area? Another example would be someone willing to apply current prices to the food I am buying at a discount. I know I can exist on the food I buy. I have no idea what things cost in the real world. Sure I would love to be eating T-Bone Steaks, lobster, shrimp and other delicacies, but from day one, I need to know about the necessities I need to exist.

I will lay out some employment possibilities, and perhaps be able to get some solid advice as to if there is any hope for my plans. Some of the information I would like to gather can certainly be sent in via the blog anonymously. In the long run, perhaps I may be able to develop some "live" contacts but do not panic, I will take what you are willing to give.

By the way, everyone is encouraged to simply read my musing, and do nothing. That is okay too. Just the fact that people are reading what I write goes a long way to supporting my self-esteem and desire to go forward.

Initially my goal is to be able to build a foundation of where I am at now, and gather all the various issues that you all out there in the free world deal with on a. daily basis. Things such as health care, dental care, clothing, food, all things I have not had to depend solely on myself for. Yes I have spent most of the last few years providing my own meals, but I have had access to three meals a day, without any cost. Once I am released, I will be in need of feeding myself each and every day task I certainly look forward to but one that I have not had any practical experience with in over 144 months.

I am not sure if any of this makes sense yet, but hang in here for a while, pass on comments and questions you may have and we will begin this journey together.

Asperger's Syndrome.

2008-02-29T09:46:00.001-05:00

Something new at last!

It is another Friday here at the old homestead. Over the last few months I would plan to use the weekend to create, proof and print some great blog posts. I would then allow anything else to distract me from that goal. On Friday I would not worry about getting started because I had Saturday and Sunday. Saturday would arrive and I would feel secure in not starting since there was still Sunday. Sunday would come and I would assure myself that I had all day so no point in starting too early.

Those of you who are still bothering to check in and see what is new (not much lately, huh?), know first hand that I am great at putting off what needs to be done. What ends up happening is tasks remain among the undone. I suppose that is a better place than the undead, but it certainly leaves little to entertain those of you in the free world.

This week I received an order of books from Edward R. Hamilton, Bookseller. I had put together an order of six books and sent the order to Mom and Dad who graciously provided the required funds. At least I provided a stamped and addressed envelope to mail the order. The order was for four music books, one book on music theory, and Look Me in the Eye by John Elder Robison. It is a memoir. The author discovers at the age of forty that he has Asperger's Disorder. For all the pertinent official words on the disorder you can look it up in the bible of psychological disorders, Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, under number 299.80.

Late breaking news: as I was retyping this I asked one of the inmates who is taking a basic psychology college class to look at his textbook. I looked up Asperger's in the index and found the following:

"Asperger's syndrome (a type of autism typically associated with normal levels of IQ) and high-functioning autism (a kind of autism in which individuals are able to function close to or above normal levels in society)." King, Laura (2008). The Science of Psychology: An Appreciative View. New York, McGraw-Hill.

The point is not that Mr. Robison has this disorder. I either have this disorder, (although based on the above paragraph maybe I qualify for the latter description) or deserve an Academy Award for best portrayal of the traits that define Asperger's Disorder without having it. The reason for deserving this award is that not only have I spent the last fifty plus years portraying the disorder which did not even officially exist fifty years ago, but up until Wednesday, February 20, 2008, I did not know what the traits were for the disorder. Damn, I am good.

Among the traits that people with Asperger's display is the great people pleasing and friend winning skill of saying things that simply pop into their minds. These verbalized thoughts probably have nothing to do with the subject at hand. If you say something that is related to the topic being discussed, a replay of the statement would show that it was a very stupid thing to say. The statement made under the latter premise lives on in the mind forever. Yet another painful memory of the scorn and ridicule one has received from one's peers.

Way back when I was a wee little lad, about the fourth or fifth grade, our church was sponsoring a coeducational sex education class. As an aside, this was quite a radical idea for the town we lived in at the time. A few years later when some "health education" textbooks were purchased for use in the local public school, the two or three chapters that dealt with sex education were ripped out of the books before they were handed out to the students. And this was the 1960s.

While discussing the monthly cycle a woman has, the leader told how things like sanitary napkins are usually available in the bathrooms in case they are needed. Without missing a beat I shouted out, "I never have seen them." Everybody broke out laughing. And yes they were certainly laughing at me not with me. The point is the lecturer did not specify public women's bathroom. She only said public bathroom (at least that is how I choose to remember it).

With Asperger's you tend to see words as pictures. The brain hears restroom, pictures all the things in a restroom, and the mind does not see any previously unidentified machines that would have been used for dispensing sanitary napkins. It would have made a great joke to have a boy say he has never seen them I have to be honest; I was not at all trying to make a joke. I was responding to what I thought might be bogus information.

I use the word "machine" because that is yet another trait. People with Asperger's tend to love machines of all kinds. They love to take them apart and see how they work. Check in with my mom, and find out about all the machines she would find in pieces around the house. Eventually I was able to put them back together in better than new condition but one is always remembered for his failures not his successes.

One of the reasons for love of machines mentioned in the book is the ability to master them; something one with Asperger's might find difficult to do in peer relationships. Machines do not laugh at you. They do not ridicule you. Okay, once in a while they may pull a trick or two on you at first. A squirt of fluid from a loose fitting, maybe a little jolt from a circuit you thought was safe to work on. Since my brain works in "picture mode" it is easy to see how the machines work. Trying to figure out how my peers worked was never an easy task.

This discussion should be recognized as just the start of things. I am not sure where this journey will end up, but I have decided to let you all in on the journey, as opposed to just giving the final report. To be honest what little I have read so far leads me to believe that there will never be a final report. This will just give me yet another tool to what makes me tick, and how I relate to the world around me.

Does it matter in the long run if I fit some label in the psych book of disorders? Does having an official label scare me? Yes, I think so. I do not want to look for an excuse, but have to admit, reading about others who have had some of the same difficulties in life I have is helpful. I know I am not alone.

At the same time, just getting that new info I quoted above from the textbook, I found my self saying, wait a minute, I have a higher than normal IQ. Already the internal fight begins to only want the good parts, not the bad parts. And if indeed Asperger's is applicable to only those with normal IQ's it still does not diminish the power of knowing that others have had some of the same difficulties as I.

Nothing to do.

2007-12-17T22:05:00.000-05:00

Friday afternoon I managed to bump into the officer who wants my computer programming skills. He told me that I am still on his payroll and that he was scheduled to meet with the superintendent this coming Wednesday. He told me he expected to get the go ahead, but that I might have to work in the computer repair classroom in the Education Building.

On the one hand it would be good to have direct access to a civilian computer expert; on the other hand I would only be able to work when the class was held and the most time would be about two and one half hour periods, one from 8:00 to 10:30, and the other from 12:00 to 2:30. It would be better than nothing to be sure, and perhaps once I finish this first project, I could move back over the mess hall and be able to work more hours.

There is plenty of work I can do, and I can only see positive things flowing when I get to the parole board with a fist full of letters from various top dog employees as to the savings my work has accomplished.

As much as I hate to admit it, I have been feeling so blue over the last several weeks just sitting around in my cube with nothing to do.

I did manage to type a few letters that I have promised others I would do.

I even got motivated enough to write another letter to the postmaster. Today I received seven papers, including the long lost Monday, 11/19 issue. The other six were 11/30, 12/1, 12/5, 12/6, 12/7 and 12/8. 12/2 to 12/4 were received last week. Go figure.

I know I need to get cracking and send you some more blog stuff, but have resisted sending a bunch of poor Pete stuff.

One funny thing today was when an inmate came end asked if he could borrow a sleeve of saltines. Now I pay about 80 cents for a standard size box of crackers with four sleeves inside each box. They use the crackers to make bread crumbs for a covering when frying the mackerel.

Well I have not used any crackers but I knew someone owed me two sleeves. So when I was asked to lend a sleeve today, I followed the "messenger" out to see which inmate was doing the requesting and as soon as he saw me come out he had a big smile on his face. Yes, it was he that already owed me two sleeves. He promised that he would pay me all three sleeves this week. We will see if it happens.

I'm so BLUE!

2007-12-14T07:24:00.000-05:00

I am still waiting for the powers that be (whatever that means) to decide if I will be able to resume my job, designing much needed databases. I am still on the payroll, so all I do is sit around my cube all day feeling sorry for myself.

When one's reality sucks, diving into fiction is a great way to "disappear" for a while. In the last three weeks I have read the following books:

Short Straw, LA Deal, Fresh Disasters - all by Stuart Woods
The Reef - Nora Roberts
Broken Prey - John Sanford
Drop Dead Beautiful - Jackie Collins
Shiny Waters - Anna Salter
The Manhattan Hunt Club - John Saul
Palm Beach - Pat Booth
Day Trader - Stephen Frey
Balance of Power - Richard Noth Paterson
Cover Story - Gerry Boyle
Mad Jack - Catherine Coulter
Killer Dreams - Iris Johansen

The New York Times has outdone itself in arriving totally haphazardly. I still have not received the paper for the Monday before Thanksgiving, but this past Friday's showed up today, Thursday, with Sunday and Monday arriving yesterday.

I need to write another letter to the local postmaster and get him to confirm once again that the papers do arrive on a same day basis and any delays are caused by the mail room here at my undisclosed secure location. But the funk has left me not up to solving this problem.

There are several "maintenance projects" that are in need of some expert attention in our dorm. Since I no longer work there, and was one of the few inmate employees who strived to get things done, this too is adding to my feeling of ...??? Not really sure how you would describe the feeling but I have been wondering if one can really solely be responsible for "SELF" esteem, or is it possible that it is also a function of how others look at your talents and are willing to allow you to apply them in a positive environment.

Yes, I know I am in prison. I put myself here. But if I am feeling low, and I am certainly able to function at a higher level and have more resources than many of my fellow inmates, how are they supposed to ever be able to change their way of dealing with life and be able to become productive members of society?

As the song says... "We all need somebody to lean on."

It is truly strange how once I start writing, I certainly have plenty to write about, and to be honest, I even feel a little bit better for spending this time putting my thoughts on paper.

One of the major differences between the state system and Club Fed is the way that we able to receive packages. Every weekend I see many of my fellow inmates returning from the visiting room carrying grocery bags full of goodies from the outside world. We are able to get up to thirty-five ponds of food stuff each month, and for Thanksgiving several inmates has some of the vacuum packed fully cooked turkeys sent in. I do not need any additional junk food, and Mom and Dad do send me food from time to time, but it was certainly less "painful" in Club Fed when everyone had to shop at the same store.

That certainly makes the time here in the state system closer to life on the outside. Someone will almost always have more of this or that then you do, well maybe not for Bill Gates and Warren Buffet. But the point is, it is really not the physical possessions that make one feel better here in the prison, it is those things that contribute to the lifting up of one's self esteem and sense of accomplishment.

The Beatles sang that "happiness is a warm gun" but in here happiness is a kind word, a letter from the outside, or any interaction with another human that lets you know that you are more than just another body that needs to be counted several times over a twenty-four hour period to be sure you are still where you are supposed to be.

Time to wrap this up so it makes the last mail out this week. But there will be more to come.

Night Before Thanksgiving...

2007-12-13T09:36:00.000-05:00

Tis the night before Turkey Day. Our four burner stovetop has been going all day with my fellow dorm mates all cooking up massive amounts of food. For some reason this year, unlike last year, I am not doing any cooking, nor have I asked to be included in any of the various groups that are cooking.

My next cube neighbor turned 45 on Monday. It was my commissary day so I told him I would be cooking him a dinner for his birthday. I made chicken cutlet Parmesan served over ziti. We do not have an oven but you can melt the mozzarella cheese by using one of our cast iron frying pans, elevated off the burner by three sardine cans. We happen to have a pot lid that fits just inside the frying pan.

Lately, when these long weekends come about I always start off thinking it would be a great time to get some serious writing for the blog done. As any of the regular readers know, the writing never gets done. I have been feeling sorry for myself over the last many months, and it has resulted in a marked decrease in my letter writing. Let us see if I can turn the tide around this weekend. I am still feeling blue, but there are some bright spots. So indulge me for a few minutes here and let me write some of the things I am thankful for.

I am already getting distracted from writing. As a an attempt to be nice to my best friend the editor, I am going to type most of what I get done this weekend into the memory of the typewriter which will hopefully cut done on the editing he has to do.

I am thankful for my parent’s support of me, in writing letters and sending me a monthly allowance. The new six-track keyboard was finally released from its extended stay in the package room. I am thankful for the pen pals that I get to correspond with and apologize for the time delay in my writing letters back. I am certainly thankful beyond words for my friend that keeps this blog rolling along and his support in building up my self esteem that my current location works so hard at trashing.

The above has been sitting patiently in the memory of the typewriter. The typewriter has sat abandoned in my locker for a week.

Job update.

2007-12-12T08:33:00.000-05:00

I was called to the mess hall around 12:00 today. It was the first time I had darkened the portals since leaving that building one week ago. It was the first time any staff member contacted me about the status of my programming project. As a side note, I have not looked at the manuals or any of my notes or programming since that date either.

The officer that called me down is the one that got me started on the whole thing. He told me he thought the situation would be resolved by next week, and that he had both the Superintendent and the Deputy Supt. of Security on his side. Funny, but I thought the Superintendent ran this place. In the federal system, there were two associate wardens working for the warden. In addition there was a Captain. He had the last word as far as any programs or operations go.

In the meantime I am still going to be paid as if I was working. Which means, at the least, I am getting a two week paid vacation. First time that has happened since I started working for myself over twenty plus years ago. Maybe I could convince this institution that that is the best thing to do with me. Pay me not to work. Ha Ha. I would be perfectly content to work on my writing, music and read, read, read. But like all good things in prison, this too shall pass.

That is where things are for now, so instead of being able to bury my head this coming week in all things computer and sliding through yet another Thanksgiving I will be left to entertain my self this week. Hopefully this will not lead me into any troubled waters.

I am feeling slightly adrift.

2007-12-11T22:37:00.000-05:00

My incoming mail of late has been sparse and what has been received has tended to scold or be somewhat banal or real deep requiring some equally deep response on my part. In addition to the incoming mail, the ups, downs, and volatility of my new job have added to a sense of detachment that includes not even being able to be sure what I have written and what I should write next.

I finally got around to taking out the typewriter this evening and typed up a short note to the package room sergeant asking him to look onto why it has been five weeks and I still do not have my keyboard. I have certainly been patient and it has now gotten to the point where it is a standing joke in the dorm to ask me if I got the new keyboard.

The sparse was the short note from Mom and Dad that arrived with the monthly allowance, but had no mention of the status of looking for and ordering some music for me. I still am not quite sure how much of the inaction on my parents' part is old age and how much is a desire to put an emotional distance between us.

I know you place some limits on what you do for me and I am grateful for all you do. But I am feeling more and more isolated of late and part of that is certainly related to the lack of action to some of my request to my parents. On the one hand it may be more old age than anything else since they certainly jumped on the keyboard, as did you. So another thought I have is that perhaps I can make some specific request for shopping lists to blog readers and they could e-mail you the results and you could just pass them along to me.

For example I am in need of some "office supplies" and in particular carbon paper. Staples where my parents have order from in the past no longer carries it as far as the phone orders go. If someone was able to find a source with a phone ordering system, they could email the phone number along with the item numbers and I know Mom and Dad would order for me. Having them go shopping and mailing stuff to me is apparently too much trouble.

The next area I could use some outside research is music. Again here perhaps someone would be able to recommend particular publishers and item numbers and I could broaden my music playing.

For example I am looking for a copy of "Oh Happy Day" and any collections of old time spirituals and some of the more recent praise-type Music. Titles like “Our God is an Awesome God”, "Open the Eyes of My Heart". Maybe someone knows where to get some of the "fake" books with hits from the 60's etc. With the five track sequencer I should be able to do some really great renditions.

I am finally making some progress on the Access "language" and should have the re-write and improved version of the project I wrote using Approach package ready for beta testing in a say or so. The only downside right now is that unless the one officer that got me started on this works double shifts, I am being kicked out at 2:00 each today. Today that was just at the point where things were starting to fall in place and I was on a roll. On the one hand the mandatory cut off did give me time to type this letter to you, I am certainly not used to just working on a project till I drop.

Now if I could only take the computer and printer back to my cube.... I know I hear you saying "He is never satisfied always has to want more" I do have other thing to work on, and just hope nothing goes wrong at this point that has me losing the right to finish what I have started.

Okay, that is all for now. Hopefully this letter is slightly more coherent than some of the latest ones I have been sending.

New Captain.

2007-12-10T00:02:00.000-05:00

We have a new Captain, one of two on the staff, and he seems intent on ratcheting up the tension here. Most weekends we get to stay up to 3:00 AM on Fridays and sleep undisturbed on Saturday morning. Not this Saturday.

As I headed down to the mess hall at 6:00 AM, six of the fourteen dorms had all their lights on. This means that the overnight officers went around to each of those dorms between 5:30 and 6:00 AM and personally made sure each and every inmate was up, dressed and their beds made.

The usual purpose of this early morning wake-up is a dirty dorm. There are never more than one or two dorms a weekend and many times none. This is just another one of those cycles that we prisoners must live by.

Many of the higher up officers prefer to deal with life here in the compound on an as needed basis. They do not go out of their way to find things to hold us inmates accountable for.

Then there are the ones like our new captain. They come into town guns blazing and seem to feel empowered by God to be sure each and every prisoner knows they are incarcerated.

7:20 PM

I cannot begin to describe how physically exhausted I am. The ironic part is that while I have managed to impress several staff members with my designing skills and have accepted their praise with humility, I am not receiving any emotional lift. This appears to be a good thing on the one hand. That means that I am no longer seeking to define my emotional self by my practical skills as a programmer. Nor am I attempting to put too much weight in the value of this endeavor.

I have no doubt that my efforts in the maintenance department were more than adequate for normal expectations. The only reason I was fired is because the civilian, who is second in command, had an axe to grind with me. Life is like that. I know that. I am a little miffed that none of the inmates still over there have said anything to me about missing me or wishing I would come back. But that is also part of life in prison. As long as it is not your misery, anyone else's misery is great to watch and feed off of from the sidelines.

This letter is still not what I would have hoped but hey it is only a few days that I have had this new office set up, and I will only improve. It is somewhat scary for me to be able to sit down on touch type. To think of all the hours I wasted hunt and pecking my program code in.

7:34 PM

Damn, the officer just came in and told me to wrap it up - gotta go.

I am sitting in front of a computer!

2007-12-09T10:13:00.000-05:00

I am sitting in front of the computer and I am going to see if I can spend the rest of the time here typing a real letter to you. I will end up back at the dorms around 8:30 PM and reading over the Access Developer's Guide for the umpteenth time and hoping that more and more of it sinks in.

One of the inmates who had me do an emergency retype for one of his homework assignments last week received an A. I did some editing and suggestions for clearer wordings.

I returned to my cube last night having been out of the dorm from 6:00 AM till 8:30 PM to find that someone had decided to help himself to about half the magnets that I had on my cube wall. The paint is layered on so thick that it tends to hold things to it after they have been on the wall for a bit. I noticed one or two things on my floor that should have been on the wall. Upon further inspection, I discovered several of the smaller items were just stuck to the wall without any magnets holding them up. The magnets cost $1.00 for a dozen.

I took this minor thievery as a sign that all may not be well in the dorm. It trickled over to the subconscious and left me restless as I tried in vain to get a good solid five hours of sleep. I was up at 5:15 AM and stayed up, took a shower and headed back down to work at 6:00AM this morning.

On the one hand I am out of the dorm no most days from dawn to dusk; on the other the jealousy factor may be kicking in just for the fact that I may be doing something I enjoy. It is not that any of the malcontents could do this job or would want to; it is just that no one is allowed to have too much control over their own world.

Someone could have taken my cream cheese and American cheese out of the five-gallon pail under my bed, so I guess I should be grateful it was only the magnets. The problem is that this shows a lack of respect for my humble abode. I hope it is an isolated occurrence and not the start of a trend that escalates into some more heinous behavior.

One of the inmates here just ended up in a tussle because he was holding the door in the dorm for another inmate and as he passed he was told the least he could have done was say thank you. The younger inmate took that as an insult and swung at the older (and larger) inmate. Score now: younger inmate in the box, older inmate transferred to another dorm and under keep lock feed in.

Meanwhile where are the heartrending and lascivious details of my day to day prison life? Each time I pause to look at the television, I feel so disconnected from the world outside. There is so little individual affirmation around here it is to the point of wonder there is not more physical altercations.

Blowing the place up.

2007-12-08T08:41:00.000-05:00

It is 11:00 AM and I have been up since 5:15 AM. I am currently working on the new data screens and am swimming around trying to pull all the various functions into a cohesive block so I can get the form to look and perform like I want. I will be working till 2:00 PM then heading up for Catholic services. It remains to be seen if I will be able to return after that.

I found out today I will be required to wear the mess hall "whites." Sort of a pain in the ass as it is just another set of clothes I have to squeeze into my already overcrowded locker.

I need to break the design ideas down into smaller pieces and gradually build up to all the features I want to use. One of the problems is that the programmer's book I am using has plenty of coding examples but alas they are all on a CD which is long since gone. The new 2007 book I bought is only the end user type basics and does not deal at all with the background programming.

One of the male staff members just entered the staff bathroom and told me I might want to take a break as he was planning on "blowing the place up." Where was I when they were teaching grown men to talk like kindergarteners?

I did find a strange bug last night. While I was able to use "No" to set some Boolean type variables, it did not recognize "Yes". Once I changed the constant to "True" it fixed the problem. Figure that one out.

With a little luck I will get to spend some time down here in the evenings when it is real quiet and no one is around. I am looking forward to using the gift of this word processing to get out a bunch of writing that needs to be done.

Just before I received your latest letter I was digging through the archives of our letters. I was looking for the class project that was done on the blog a while back and ended up looking at some of our older letters. My writing has not been up to the quality I had obtained while vegetating at my last place. Now with me putting in long days here at the mess hall, I want to set apart a portion of each day and type two to three pages. I will probably end up saving a file during the day, and then being sure to clean out the recycle bin too.

A new life?

2007-12-07T22:05:00.000-05:00

I have been on an emotional downslide ever since my parents' visit back in June. All the disappointments of them being so late for the two days of visiting and then seeing first hand the toll the aging process has taken was just the beginning.

Then came the doctor's report of the permanent damage to my diaphragm. The damage is apparently a result of my asthma, and mainly affects my ability to expel air. I can get it in, just not out. Strange. I guess I will never be a great trumpet player now.

I am typing this letter on a computer. It is an IBM with a 10 Gig hard drive. Only 128 meg of ram though so I will have to suffer some.

Today is my first day in my own little office. It is a storeroom on the way to the staff bathroom but for now it is all mine.

I installed Windows XP Home edition on this machine. It had Windows 98 and would not take the upgrade path so I did the new install. It wiped out the software on the disk so today I was able to reinstall the entire Microsoft Office, minus the parts that relate to the Internet.

I do not know how long I will have this job but for the short term there should be a 100% improvement in my letter writing. Little red squiggly lines, little green ones, so much help and boy do I need it.

I feel the clock ticking and hope I can deliver the goods on this programming gig before the vagaries of prison life come around and bite me in the tail. For the time being it would appear at least no one else wants this job, nor am I doing anything that someone else got tossed off of.

It is 4:30 now and while the officers are here till about 8:30 I am not sure how long they will let me stay. They are not the usual PM staff and that is a good thing. Hopefully now that I no longer have to work in their office, they will not mind me coming down. Of course this means I am going to immerse myself in programming but I really need to get a self taught crash course in Access so I can show daily progress.

I am sitting here typing this letter to you and feeling like a human being for once. I really do live in conditions of deprivation. Yes, I know there are people dying all over this world but for a minute I am realizing that I was born to do this stuff. And man did I fuck up the lives of the ones I love and put myself in the hellhole.

Now here is hoping I can use this extremely unique position to springboard myself into a new life.

Healthcare in Prison.

2007-10-21T21:09:00.000-04:00

Dental Care?

One of my hopes is that I get out of prison before I lose all my teeth. We have two dentists here that do only fillings and extractions. If they cannot fill it, out it comes.

I had one of the molars in the upper left quadrant drilled and filled here several months back. At the time it was drilled, the tooth was not bothering me and did not appear to have any major problem. When the dentist was drilling the tooth it felt like he was using a jackhammer and removed a big chunk of tooth. As he filled it he told me that if the filling did not stay in the whole tooth would have to some out. Sure enough, the filling has fallen out, and I have now been waiting over a month to see the dentist again. Meanwhile I have lacerated my tongue quite a few times on the nice sharp edges of this unfilled tooth.

Yes, if I lose all my teeth the state does pay for dentures, but I hope I do not have to ever face that option.

Medical Care?

I certainly feel more positive about typing the word “care” after the word “medical” than I do after “dental.” I have received two very extensive surgeries in the last year. The first was a major cleaning out of my sinuses, and then in May I finally had my deviated septum fixed. Both of these operations were done at a major medical center by doctors not employed by the Department of Corrections.

The doctor who works here has a great bedside manner, and told me one of the reasons he took this job was to enable him to still treat his private patients, many of whom are without insurance and have limited incomes to pay medical bills.

The few times I have been treated by the Doc, he always takes the time to explain what he feels needs to be done, what drugs I need to take, and is open to any questions I might have.

About a month ago I had what I would consider to be a near death experience. It was around 6:00 PM and I was dozing on my bed. I was in that semiconscious state where I could hear the noise around me but was hoping to drift off rather than be fully awake. I was on top of the blankets and wearing my socks. I felt like my one foot was wet, but I did not wake up to investigate the cause of this sensation.

Eventually I woke up enough to look down at my foot to see what the problem was. At about the same time, an inmate two cubes over asked me what was wrong with my foot. I always wear white crew socks, and one sock was bright red. Yep, soaked in blood.

Now as I slowly became more aware, I sat up and noticed a sizable puddle of blood on the floor of my cube. I am talking about a foot in diameter, and it seemed to have some depth to it. In retrospect I wonder how many inmates walked by my cube and saw the pool of blood on the floor but did not alert the officer or attempt to wake me up. Had this happened while I was under the blankets, I am not sure what would have happened.

What had happened was a small vein "bubble" is very close to the surface on the top of my left foot. I must have banged it on the foot of my bed and it popped open. When I removed my sock, the blood shot out like a fountain. I immediately applied direct pressure and yelled out loud that I needed medical attention.

I was very concerned by the amount of blood on the floor, and was not about to walk anywhere. The first responder was not a medical person but a roving officer who had me wrap my foot in a towel and then put it in a plastic bag so that I would not get blood all over the place. The van does have a one piece plastic stretcher, but he had me walk to the van.

At this point I also had blood on both my hands and I was feeling somewhat lightheaded. By the time I arrived down at medical and the nurse unwrapped my foot, the bleeding had stopped. After washing off my foot and applying a gauze pad with some adhesive tape, I was set free to walk back up the hill to my dorm. At no point did the nurse take any vital signs. I guess the fact that I was still alive was good enough for her. Nor did she offer me any liquids to replace the blood I had lost.

The next morning I saw one of the doctors that covers when our regular doctor is out and he did not seem to feel this was any problem.

It is now four weeks later and I am going to sign up for sick call this week to see if I can get the regular doctor to take a look at it.

The following evening I celebrated my being alive with an extra large pasta and octopus salad complete with fresh tomatoes and green peppers from the vocational horticulture program garden that certain lucky inmates were able to pick from. They sell the vegetables to us other inmates that do not have the access to the garden. In addition to the fresh tomatoes, I added some chopped up sharp cheddar cheese, a can of mushrooms, a little oregano and garlic powder and boy was it good!

More on medical and dental “care” to follow.

Shake-Down.

2007-10-20T08:57:00.000-04:00

The way shake-downs are done at my current location is that several officers go through each and every locker searching for any items that might be in an inmate's possession that should not be.

Now aside from the obvious no-no's, homemade weapons and the like, little things that one might have acquired along the way would also be tossed out. Like the boxes from the oatmeal and other food products that become handy organizers for the smaller items in our lockers.

Perhaps the quantity of an item might by checked and any excesses taken away. One might have and lose some extra underwear, one too many pair of shorts, too many books or magazines.

In my case although I have very little illegal items, the quantity of books and magazines could be the area I would suffer the losses in.

Meanwhile...

It is now day 11 and still my new keyboard has not been released from the package room. I am not sure what the holdup is. I had asked one of the officers to check with the package officer on Wednesday, and the response he received was that she "might get to it today." Well that day and five more have passed and still no keyboard.

The gods of inmate happiness were certainly smiling down on me these last three days. I was able to spend seventeen hours working on the database project. I am digging around the disk looking for any documentation that will help me understand the whole method/property/class thing that I need to use as part of the Lotus Script.

I was able to get just one thing to work today by checking out one of the sample projects that were included with the original Approach. I needed to be able to have the script read a value from one of the forms. Now only a couple hundred class, events, methods and properties to check out.

Unfortunately the help file for the Approach/LotusScript seems to be missing. Maybe my editor can do one of his shrink 4-to-a-page things and print them off the internet?

According to the help file I do have, the subjects I am looking for are Approach Classes, Events, Methods and Properties. If that is something that exists on the web and can be printed without too much trouble, great. If not, is there a reference book that contains this information? I would need a phone number and catalog number to place an order. While on the subject, does the same type of reference exist for the Access VBA Classes?

I have a basic Access reference book and Access 2002 Desktop Developer's Handbook, but neither have the listing to the classes etc. Since I have limited access to a computer, it would be a great help to have a printed resource to study. Just another one of those things that is not a problem for those of you on the outside world.

The plan is still to rewrite the project in Access, but for now we are using the work I have done in Lotus Approach. The one little "hook" I found today enabled me to remove nineteen "buttons" off the main screen, each one generated a different day/time count sheet and replace it with one drop down list to pick the day, and 5 buttons for the different times of the count.

In the background I was able to eliminate all the macros that were attached to those now deleted buttons. Where each of the reports has its own background script module, I now only need one for each time, 6 AM, 11 AM, 3 PM and 5:30 PM, and with additional documentation, I could easily condense that down to just one little procedure for all the reports.

I know what needs to be done; I just need the damn owner's manual for using all the tools these current databases products provide. This probably makes no sense to any of you readers that do not work designing databases.

To put this all into prospective, while designing custom database systems was what I did for a living, the software I was using at the time was all text/DOS based. I was just starting to look into migrating to the Windows environment. What a difference a dozen years makes in the computer field.

You Wanted Real...

2007-10-19T09:52:00.000-04:00

Friday night I had gone to bed earlier than usual. I was looking forward to rising before 7:00 AM Saturday to go work on the database project. On weekend nights, the lights go off in the dorm area at 10:00 PM, but the Rec area is open till 2:00 AM. Weeknights it is 11:30 PM bedtime for all inmates.

I was blissfully off in dreamland when I was awakened by the sound of some sort of physical activity taking place between two or more inmates. As I sat up in bed, and looked over the cube divider, sure enough diagonally across the dorm several inmates appeared to be attacking one inmate who was pinned in his cube. Several other inmates had popped their heads up by this time. Since the officer was not in the dorm area at this time, there were some cheers of encouragement. Just like one might hear when the inmates are watching the professional boxing matches on television.

No inmate made any attempt to stop the attackers. This falls under one of the unwritten rules: one does not attempt any peacemaking. The officer might have been aware that something was going on as when he walked back into the dorm there were plenty of inmates sitting up or standing in their cubes looking around to see who was doing what to whom. The officer was in and out of the dorm about three times over a half hour period, and each time he would step out, the dorm door was closed and the attackers would start again. One of the last assaults involved the swinging of padlocks placed inside socks.

At some undefined point the attacks stopped. Despite the rough treatment the one inmate received, he never brought any attention to himself as far as the officer was concerned.

I spent most of Saturday away from the dorm. I was working on the mess hall computer from 7:00 AM until noon, and then went directly up to the chapel for the Protestant worship service.

When I returned to the dorm around 4:00 PM, the victim was no longer in the dorm. Some of the inmates were talking about the attack and said the victim had at least two golf ball size lumps on his head. The attack was allegedly in retaliation for some locker stealing. One inmate commented that the inmate who received the beating was not even the one doing the stealing.

They all had positive things to say about the victim not giving up any names of the inmates that attacked him.

Usually when an inmate suffers a non-accidental injury, the rest of the inmates are subject to upper body searches for possible incriminating marks that would show one was a participant in the fight. Each inmate reports to his cube and removes his shirt. An officer checks the upper body, hands and mouth area for any possible damage. This procedure was not done this time.

As mentioned recently some physical altercation is expected, it is unusual for an occurrence where only one inmate is "caught" and he obviously is on the losing end of a battle not to cause some sort of reaction from the staff. Since this was a three day weekend, it is quite likely that our entire dorm will be subject to a shake-down on Tuesday morning.

Singing the Praises of Alicia Keys.

2007-10-18T08:58:00.000-04:00

One pair of individuals has taken a real liking to me for my ability (thanks to both Mom and Dad, for paying for the daily subscription to the New York Times, and the editor for reproducing the photos) to obtain some photos of Alicia Keys.

There happened to be a nice review of her career up to this point (she is only 26) in a Sunday New York Times. When I shared the article with two other inmates, they both wanted the pictures of Alicia. One was of her sitting on a couch in her mother's home; the other a still from her part in "Smoking Aces".

At this point, while I have received two sets of the photos, one of the photos is on my cube wall. The one inmate only has the "Smoking Aces" photo, though I noticed the other day they are currently sharing the posed shot of her sitting on the couch.

There was a question from my editor as to who Alicia Keys was. This goes to show he missed the story on the front page of the Arts section that had the story. While I have not had a working radio for several months, and the one station I could get when it did work did not play Ms. Keys' music, I had originally heard her back in my days at Club Fed. She had a top ten video on BET, and it was not your typical rap video.

Alicia is a gifted keyboard player and song writer, who for a while started doing more mainstream type compositions, but from what I read in the article is back to doing some really unique music. She has her own recording studio somewhere on Long Island. Amazingly I was able to put my hands on the article which is among the way too many clipped articles I have collected over the last three years or so of NY Times reading. Even though I tossed out several hundred articles when I was transferred here eighteen months ago, and have recently tried to be more selective in what I keep, it is still way too much paper.

The article is titled, "A Neo-Soul Star as She Is: Nurturing her Inner Rebel". That title alone certainly catches my attention. The article quotes Alicia Keys as saying her next album due for release on November 13, "As I Am", "'Rebellious' at every opportunity." "I was really adamant about doing things that were not expected," she said. I guess this means she has not shown up a various clubs in a state other than sober, had her picture taken as she exits a car in a way that proves she was not wearing any underwear, or resorted to being on national television and performing with malfunctioning wardrobe.

No, her latest album according to the Times, "While some of its songs reaffirm her connection to 1960s and '70s soul, others lean closer to rock -- from Beatles to U2 -- than she has before."

Although this may not sound the way I want it to, I am glad to see that the rich history of Black music in this county is not solely being represented at this time by the rap and hip-hop community.

Since we do not have BET on our televisions and her music is not likely to be played on the one radio station I can receive, I wonder if this latest album will be issued on cassette. That is the only way I will be able to hear it. If not, I will be forced to read the printed reviews and imagine the sounds, just like I do with most of the articles in the Arts Section. And she is only twenty six. That is just some of the reasons I have her picture on my cube wall. She also happens to be quite pretty. Plus it is a subtle way to show my fellow white inmates that I can appreciate the talents of a member of a different race.

Speaking of the rich history of black music, I am currently reading "Louis' children: American Jazz Singers." It is a great book and clearly documents the paths that were not easy, that many musicians have taken all in the name of art, without a guarantee of financial security. It seems such a far cry from today's rap and hip-hop artist. But I have already said that once.

This all started while I was trying to explain the high value us inmates place on things, that might not even be a blip on the radar of some of you blog readers. On this case we are talking about the value of a couple, okay three, hopefully soon to arrive 8x10 enlargements of Alicia Keys' picture from a New York times article that no one here would have ever seen if not for me receiving the Times every day, thanks again Mom and Dad, and then the generous time and paper donation from my editor to send me copies, and hopefully the enlargements.

This issue gave rise to another way I thought I could practice a random act of kindness is if I was to obtain an address for Ms. Keys, 1 could send a letter that might just generate a response that I could then share with the other two inmates that are such fans of Ms. Keys.

Yes I said that was relating to two other inmates, what about the other forty-seven.

There are two other groups that have been beating a path to my cube. We have recently started some college classes, with instructors coming from one of the colleges in the area, and leading some of the introductory classes in business, English and psychology. My involvement has ranged from several hours of individual attention with three of the inmates taking the writing class to typing the homework for several others. Speaking of typing, I have been standing up and typing this entire post since around 5:00 PM and it is now six pages and three and a half hours later.

The other group of inmates has been those seeking assistance dealing with the labyrinth of rules, regulations, and the tangled mess they have found themselves in. While it would be yet another rule violation if I were to offer and "legal" assistance, I certainly am able to write out letters and memos to staff to begin to unravel the knots they have tied themselves into. In some cases I am also able to explain there is not much they can do at this point but just move on down the path and know better days are coming.

Last night I attended a special six-week seminar sponsored by Contemplative Outreach of the Adirondack Region. This is another attempt to see if I can connect with the outside world, in that this group is apparently a worldwide organization with chapters in many countries. They specifically are leading us in the way of contemplative prayer. It is done by sitting silently for up to twenty minutes at a time and just allowing the Holy Spirit to minister to us. As we were practicing this last night in the chapel I realized how hard it is to be able to sit in a prison setting where you do not have the luxury of a closed door and trust those around you not to attack you.

An inmate mentioned he wanted to learn how to play the keyboard. I asked if he wanted to learn how to read music and how much effort was he willing to put in, and he said whatever way you want to teach me, that is how I will learn. Meanwhile, my new keyboard with the six track sequencer arrived here last Friday and it still has not made it out of the package room and into my cube. The plan is that once I get my new keyboard, and donate my old one to the chapel, the chaplain will then write a special pass so that this inmate can take the keyboard back to his dorm to practice. Since we are not in the same dorm, and no one can go and visit someone in another dorm, we will be able to arrange a time to meet together up in the chapel. This could be lots of fun.

My latest recommendations for additional equipment for the chapel sound system were approved by the administration, and within the next few days we should be the proud owners of some new Shure PG58 Microphones, and a dual wireless lapel mike system. Over the last year, between funds provided both from regular prison budget, and inmate donations, we have spent over $750 upgrading the equipment. All of which was done based on my recommendations.

Due to the work schedule of the officer that I have been working with on the database, I have not had a chance to do any work in the last two weeks. I am scheduled to get some quality time this weekend and will get my first real crack at using Access as opposed to Approach, the Lotus product.

I am going to wrap this up now and catch a quick shower before 10:00 and will use this wild, rambling narrative to delve even deeper in to the happenings of prison life.

Coming soon, gays in prison, medical care, how much longer will my tooth with the missing filling go untreated (one month so far). Why prison food is bad for you, and why are there so many black Jews in prison.

Home Sweet Home.

2007-10-17T08:44:00.000-04:00

I am lucky to have one of the two best cubes in the dorm. Out of 50 cubes (ten of which contain the double bunk bed) there are four rows of cubes. The back row, which has four single cubes and the ten double bunks. The single cubes in this row are found at each end, and two more in the middle of the row, where there is the aisle for the fire door.

While it is true that each of the corners has windows on the side and back edge of the cube, they also have a double bunk neighbor on their other side. Since the cube walls are only four feet high and the top bunk is five feet, there is no privacy at all in these corner cubes. Plus since the double bunks usually contain those inmates suffering punishment for some rule infraction, you can see why even with the extra widows they are not all that great.

The other two corner cubes are on the opposite wall and while this wall is also the wall for our Rec area, there are windows for two and a half cubes at each end. Since the middle two rows have an aisle at each end, they do not have any direct access to windows.

If you are following all this and I have successfully painted an accurate word picture, now you may see what a prime location my little piece of real estate is. I have some relative privacy when lying in my bunk as long as my nearby neighbors are lying down too they cannot see into my cube. With the aisle from the center row directly in front of me, this and the other corner cube are the two best.

Now those of you how are thinking ahead probably already see where this is going.

There are sixty inmates living in this dorm. With a few rare exceptions, everyone would like to have their own cube, and furthermore why not have the cube with windows on two sides. All it would take is for an unlucky occupant of the prime corner cubes to incur some sort of rule infraction and all of a sudden the corner cube has a vacancy sign posted.

Yes it is true if you manage to have some ill wind blow upon the occupant of the corner cube, you might not be the one to get it, but for some inmates as long as you get the current occupant out, that is good enough.

On the personal side, me, my typing, my three foot long keyboard and lots of books and other property would have a tough time existing in a double bunk cube.

Just one more point on the double cubes: the person on the top bunk may not find it necessary to remove his boots or sneakers before climbing up on his bunk and will often sit on his bunk with his feet hanging over the side. There is no way to have your feet over the front or back of the bunk. And the one side is up against the cube wall, which is the air rights of your neighbor.

In my case, one little infraction and all of a sudden I would be forced to eat three meals a day in the mess hall, lose the ability to move around in my cube without considering how to hit two bodies in a space already too small for one, and never have the peace to practice the keyboard.

For example, some inmate wanting to see me move could toss a can top under my locker and drop an anonymous note and all of a sudden my cube is searched, the can top found, and out I go.

Gangs, did someone says gangs? Yes they exist here. As a matter of fact one of the prime methods for inhibiting gang activity is to keep the inmate population in a constant state of motion. We have a weekly turnover here of twenty to thirty inmates a week. This is out of a total population of 840 inmates. In addition to inmates arriving and departing the compound, we have movements between dorms. I would say that les than one third of the inmates in this dorm have been here been here as long (or longer) than the eighteen months I have accrued.

Allegedly, one of the times I was attacked in my cube while I was asleep was part of a gang initiation right. If it was not for my hard head I would have suffered some serious physical damage. The logic of proving you are a good candidate for a gang by attacking a sleeping victim while the dorm is in relative darkness and the officer is not in the immediate vicinity escapes me.

What a difference a few months makes and some turnover of both inmates and staff. At this point, all the officers that were working in this dorm on a regular basis over the last eighteen months have left for other posts. That is why one cannot place too much importance on any one officer. If you are known to be a favorite of a particular officer, when he leaves often that is the cue for some sort of retaliation for being too close to "the man".

Sitting by the computer, waiting for the blogs to jump.

2007-10-16T09:02:00.001-04:00

It is Thursday here, and it has been over a week since I sent the "Short Answer" blog post. After receiving 3 letters written in less than 7 days from my editor, silence. True it has only been less than eight days since I have heard from him it now seems like months.

That is a very large part of what prison life is about. Contact with the outside (and caring) world. The unreality of a prisoner's life leaves one thirsting for any sustenance from the real world. But alas as much as I hunger, those of you on the outside want to feed off my life. Now I fully understand, and obviously appreciate, your attention. Without it there would be no blog. Which of us does not slow down and look at the crash sight along the road? Yet, if we are involved in the crash we are easily pissed off by all the gawkers.

They just called our dorm for chow, and as usual I am not attending the repast. Tonight's gastronomical delight is BBQ Chicken .Cubes served over rice. Desert is a 4 oz. cup of raspberry sherbet. I have already had my dinner meal at lunch time today. I had the deluxe version of pasta and octopus, which in this case included a four ounce can of sliced mushrooms, about half a can of tomato paste, one chopped jalapeno pepper and one third pound of pasta

I am enjoying somewhat of a golden boy moment in my dorm. Unfortunately that has not transferred over to two other major area of my life here at Camp Run-a-Muk. The reason things are looking so nice in the dorm area is for some reason several divergent inmate groups all have been able to tap into me for support in some way. At the risk of telling on myself, one area is the popcorn concession.

I recently posted my "grocery list" from my bi-weekly trip to the commissary. Patrick suffered some mild abuse from AD for commenting on that post. My usual popcorn consumption is one 3.5 ounce (unpopped weight) a day. The articles about how the artificial flavoring used in most microwave can cause some irritation of the lungs, even eating as little as one bag a day has found me cutting my intake in about half.

Oh yeah, concession. While I pay twenty-three cents for each bag, my fellow inmates are willing to donate a forty-one cent stamp (selling anything to another inmate is a gross violation of the rules I live under) toward my mailing fund. I know they post a copy of the package list on the NYS DOC website but I was wondering if they also post a copy of the rules we are subject to? If not that will be something I will enlighten my readers on as we go along.

Meanwhile while violating the rules is not a question of when you might violate them, but if the powers that be will decide to look upon an inmate and issue him a ticket. It is next to impossible to go through a day here and not violate a few rules. For example the simple act of me doing the popcorn exchange thing could be looked at as a violation of the following rules: 113.14 - An inmate shall not purchase, sell, loan, give or exchange a personally owned article without authorization.

Maybe this was not such a great example, but if a real live inmate as opposed to Prison Pete were to engage in any of the above actions, which could include "lending" a fellow inmate a can of tomato sauce till the next time he goes to the store, or even practice a random act of kindness and give a new arrival a Ramen Noodle soup (cost 10¢) he could find himself suffering one or more of the following punishments:

1. Loss of recreation privileges - This would mean that an inmate must stay in his six by ten foot cube at all times with the exception of going to meals, school and work assignments. It should: be noted that one result of being on loss of recreation is being moved to the double bunk cube so you now share this 6x10 space with another inmate that might also be on loss. Since the microwave and stove top are considered recreation activities-, you are not allowed to use either of those, nor the toaster. The length of time this punishment is in effect can vary from an average two to four weeks.

2. Loss of commissary privileges - This is usually the second of the basic trinity of punishment that a bad boy inmate will receive. In addition to the above, the inmate on loss of commissary is limited to purchasing some really basic items. Soap, toothpaste, shampoo and stamps and writing supplies.

3. And yes, since I did say trinity, the third punishment is loss of packages. This means that not only can you not visit commissary to buy any edible food items, you cannot have any sent in. Hopefully there is a link to the website showing the package list, but basically an inmate is allowed to receive up to 35 pounds of sealed food items each month. Since one of the other rules of the prison system is that if you owe two or more fines or surcharges they can take 100% of all incoming funds and 80% of your prison earnings (average between $10.00 to $20.00 per month at 100%) packages are the only way for some inmates to receive even the most basic of supplies. Shampoo, deodorant, soap and okay a treat or two.

Hopefully your eyes are not totally glazed over, but as part and parcel of divulging more intimate parts of prison life it is important you understand the domino effect one tiny misstep might have.

So you want to know what it is like to live in prison?

2007-10-03T07:35:00.000-04:00

I received your letter today along with the comments from AD and David. I certainly agree that the blog has been lacking in excitement of late.

It is funny how individualistic comments can become. One of my newer pen pals mentioned that while there are some questions that he may have, he did not want to become “just another voyeuristic hanger-on.” Then comes AD's comment and bingo, he wants to live vicariously through my experiences.

Personally I find parts of Jons Jail Journal short on the reality of prison life. Talk is very cheap in prison. And even among "friends" a wrong word spoken on a bad day and fists start flying.

The last nighttime brawl we had in our dorm was between two neighbors and friends. I am not sure what started the trouble but after one inmate jumped over the cube wall to start beating on his erstwhile friend on and off over a fifteen minute period, the officer finally caught wind of it and the two were carted off to the sergeant’s office for interrogation.

The bottom line was the two combatants ended up not going into the special housing unit but were simply moved to two separate dorms.

So for Jon to allege that he can talk shit to other inmates and not be shanked or have his nose flattened, he either has one hell of a ring of protection around him or he is full of bull.

Now I do not want to start a pissing contest over which prison blog is more real. Part of my hope for the blog was to enable me to speak my mind and vent without suffering any physical repercussions if I made some of the same statements to my fellow inmates here at Camp Run-A-Muk. I also pride myself in not using the local dialect to express myself in the blog.

Do you want to know what it is like to live in prison?

How many readers of this blog go to bed each night wondering if any of the inmates that have just moved into this dorm will decide they can prove how tough they are by swinging a “lock in a sock” at you while you are asleep?

How about the fear that someone will decide you are to be the third inmate in this dorm to have his bunk set on fire. We are now tied at one and one. One cube fire started while the cube was empty and one while the inmate was asleep on his bunk.

At the time of the second fire, the superintendent took me and another inmate aside and told us to pass the word that he was not going to tolerate any more fires. He mentioned he could understand an occasional physical altercation now and then but the fires had better stop or else.

While hard information is tough to come by and rumors are full of inconsistencies, the physical damage done to some inmates this year has include several hospitalizations, and at least one or two spent time in an intensive care unit.

The inmates who have been seriously injured have had various criminal backgrounds. Most fights are spur of the moment type affairs. Very few are planned over a period of days. Most inmates just do not have that long an attention span.

I do not know how much you heard, but a penitentiary near us was locked down for over a week a little while back and tear gas was used twice within the week on the Rec yard there.

I am not saying any of this to illicit a pity party. This is just what my reality is. Talking about it makes it more real and makes me less able to control my day to day emotional involvement with the chaos that exists here.

I spoke to one of the deputy superintendents today about my newspaper delivery problems. He was puzzled that I should have any problems, as he said "it is all the news that is fit to print." His first comment when I mentioned that I received the paper was, “Boy that is expensive.”

When I mentioned I still had not received last Sunday's paper he agreed that it was not right. Today I did get last Tuesday and Wednesday's papers. But still not Sunday's.

Ironically they misdelivered a Wall Street Journal on Friday to our dorm and the date of the paper was Friday. Same day service! The question is: am I being singled out for delayed delivery? It is incompetence? Who will I piss off by now pressing the issue?

There are no unrelated issues in prison. Something as inconsequential as telling one inmate you do not have any extra popcorn to sell, but then giving one of the other inmates who has done favors for you in the past your last bag till you go to the store could very well be the start of something ugly.

I am not complaining about the comments on the blog. I take them to heart. The problem is that given the interdependency of the prison world it is really hard to know which things I write that may cause me problems down the road. And what those problems may be.

But in a never-ending quest to satisfy the thirst for the goings-on behind the bars and razor wire, stay tuned, lets see what I can come up with.

Transported up the mountain of happiness.

2007-10-02T08:28:00.000-04:00

Your letter arrived at 3:00 today but as I ripped open the envelope, they called the move for music practice up at the chapel. I just about read the "Dear ..," and noticed the graphics of the last page to know you found something about the keyboard. I put the letter back info the envelope and stuck if under my mattress where if patiently awaited my return.

I had a great music rehearsal working with a younger inmate who plays the guitar but cannot read music at all so he plays the chords without being able to get any melody or timing information from the music. Everything is as he has heard it before. We were singing a song familiar to him, but new to me and at several points in the song we were singing in harmony. This was not on purpose, but due to the fact that what he was singing was a more linear version of the song based mostly on the chords he was playing.

As I "sight-sung" the words based on the melody line printed all of a sudden there was harmony. I tried to explain this to him without sounding too judgmental and comment that it was a good thing as our voices tended to complement each other.

So at 5:00 I left the chapel and came back to the dorm to read your letter. As usual, I started at the beginning and read all the way through. Okay I could not swear to the fact that I did not peek at the keyboard page first but I do not think I did.

After reading your letter and then the comments, well I was lifted up and transported up the mountain of happiness. Boy did I need that. Not to take anything away from the power of your letters, but when I finally reached the email from a pen pal I had not heard from in way too long well that put me right up there on the top of the mountain.

I will hopefully stay energized all weekend and be able to type plenty of posts for the blog.

The officer I am working for on the computer is off Saturday and Sunday, so other than my four hours of church and practice on Saturday, and the hour and a half for the Catholic mass on Sunday I will put the bulk of the remaining time to typing.

I was going to type this out and also save if then send you how I would have edified it but once I am in the memory mode I can not go back and correct anything on the previous line like I would like to. If I do not use the memory, I can go back up a line or two and make minor corrections.

Let me leave this subject for a moment and get back to my day.

After absorbing all the positive vibes in your letter, the blog comments, and the keyboard info, I was on cloud nine. This can be a tenuous position in prison since falling off the cloud usually leaves one with a really hard landing.

Next I decided to place a call to Mom and Dad and see how they felt about buying the new keyboard. They agreed. They asked what I would do with the keyboard I now have and I suggested I could donate it to the chapel or send it home to them. They thought it would be a good idea to give it to the chapel. Not only will I now be getting a keyboard with a 6 track sequencer. The model I now have has only a two track sequencer.

The first time I called home, there was no answer. I was so wound up; I ended up blowing a couple weeks of healthy eating in one little meal.

I started with a round 20 oz. size Rubbermaid bowl. On the bottom of the bowl I put three halves of English muffin, cut in quarters to fit the bottom of the bowl. What happened to the fourth half? It got smeared with some margarine and then sprinkled with garlic powder and devoured in much haste. Yum. Yum.

I should probably mention that I ended up spreading each of the quartered muffin pieces with margarine and then sprinkled them with the garlic powder. Yes, it would have been smarter to put the margarine on before I cut them up but I can not always be thinking of the best way to do things.

Next I chopped half of the 8 ounce block of sharp cheddar cheese into thin pieces, and at least three ounces of a pepperoni stick. It is a five ounce stick and through some miracle of self control I did not just eat the entire five ounces.

I just noticed I forgot to mention that the English muffin was toasted first.

Now the assembly of the meal. You have the toasted, margarined and garlic powdered English muffin quarters on the bottom of the bowl. I poured about half a can of tomato sauce over the muffins, and then added one four-ounce can of mushrooms.

Next came the pepperoni, exquisitely cut using my trusty plastic knife. I had to break out a new knife as they do lose their sharpness after a while.

Another one of those facts the average Joe might not notice. We purchase our "silverware" in a box of eight place settings. Each setting consists of a fork, teaspoon, and knife. These utensils are not the even the high quality plastic style that seem too good to throw out. These are the ones most people would not think twice about tossing out after a single use.

Although I pay wholesale for my utensils, I do wash them after each use. Most times after many uses the forks will lose a tine as I mix up some tuna salad, or the knife will break in half while I dig out some peanut butter for a sandwich.

Meanwhile, having spread out the pepperoni over all the above mentioned ingredients, I then added the four ounces of cheddar cheese. It was heated, uncovered in the microwave on 60% power for four minutes. Let sit for two or three minutes; rushing in can lead to a burnt tongue, and then dig in.

I could certainly devour a similar bowl of items each and every day, but good thing I have a modicum of self control. And if you believe that last sentence, I have some the title to a certain little bridge spanning the East River in NYC that I could sell you.

Having stuffed myself I then called home again and this time reached my Mom and Dad.

Tonight the waiting starts. When will the keyboard arrive (and how long will it take the package room to release it to me). When will the long awaited, and now promised pen pal letter arrive? And will those that asked for my address follow through with a letter? Stay tuned for further developments.

In the meantime I have plenty of other doings to write about and that is what will be happening this weekend. If all goes well, this is just the start of a deluge of thoughts, big, small and probably a few inane ones too.

I have just fished my laundry out of the dryer and have nice clean sheets for the bed tonight.

I was just going through my files to find my file of movie reviews, and have not found it, but did find the envelope that contains my bi-weekly commissary receipts. The plasticware mentioned above cost me 44¢ a box.

Let me dive back into my locker and see if I can find the movie review file. The late movie tonight is Lucky You.

I found the review and even the full page movie poster in the Sunday NY Times Summer Movie section from May 6, 2007.

Rosegarden.

2007-10-01T19:57:00.000-04:00

Hello again. I was reading through the latest PC magazine, it and Monday's NY Times were my only mail today, and they had an article about using Linux. Apparently they have decided to begin some minor support for it, such as include a column for user questions.

They listed several free packages, one being Rosegarden, a music recording and editing program. The website is rosegardenmusic.com. Could you check out the site and send me any product description they might have? I am specifically interested in the capabilities it might have as a music sequencer. This is only the ability to edit MIDI files.

The difference between a sequencer and a sampler is that the sampler would deal with actual sound files, while a sequencer is more like a player piano, with the sequencer being the way the piano rolls are created. The most useful interface would be if the software would convert MDI file into graphic music notation.

I am confusing you? Feel free to simply disregard this entirely. I will not be insulted at all.

Here is my overall thought. I convince the powers that be to allow the chapel to load one of the older PC's with Linux and this Rosegarden software. The system would not have any other software on it or even be attached to a printer. That way the computer would be limited to holding MIDI files.

I would be able to enter a hymn into my keyboard, then bring my instrument up to the chapel, upload the song, edit it for any errors and then build a library of songs on the computer.

The basic midi standard allows for 16 different tracks to make up one song. Although my keyboard can only play 32 different notes at one time, higher priced units have 64-note polyphony. Visually what you would see on the monitor would be multiple staffs, like the Conductor's copy of a score.

Each of the 16 parts would be a different instrument. A simple example, would be how most of the old standard hymns have four basic parts; soprano, alto, tenor and bass. You night have the soprano, (melody line) played by a trumpet sound, the alto by a trombone, the tenor by cello, and the bass by organ.

The software probably has lots of features we would not need but since it is free it does not matter. You efforts would not be totally wasted as I think you would be able to have lots of fun with this type of software.

I am hopefully going to increase my writing output and also will be tossing out a few questions for you. Instead of putting things on the to-do pile I am going to move them out so to speak. As always, it is left to your own choosing as to which, if any of my questions/request you decide to deal with.

My long term goals.

2007-09-22T15:50:00.000-04:00

I was wondering if you would see if you can find a source for the next keyboard up from mine where the price might be under $200. The model number is Yamaha PSRE403. American Musical Supply has it for $229.00.

I am going to ask if as long as I agree not to hold the institution liable for more than $200, if I could order it. The keyboard does have two major differences from the one I have. It has a six track sequencer and what appear to be ten or so presets so I could instantly switch from playing an organ trumpet mix, to something softer like flutes.

Since I am still too spastic to be able to play two parts with each hand, melody and alto with right, bass and tenor with left, the six tracks would let me put in the four parts on their own track, and with their own voice, which would certainly give me more artistic options. If you can find a place that sells it for $199.00 that would be great. It does have to be shipped from a "REAL" business so second hand or personal eBay sellers are out.

I would really appreciate this. If you do not want to do this perhaps you could post this and we could ask for volunteer to keep eyes open (and search active) for any time the keyboard might go on sale somewhere. Just my uninformed suggestions.

One of my long term goals, and perhaps a job once I get out, is to establish an organization (non-profit) that would assist prison ministry with music. My though is to have a web site that would eventually cover everything from what type of amplifications systems to buy, live volunteer musicians that are willing to perform for prison services, access to legal copyright protected music, forum for area churches to donate money, equipment, etc. to various prisons.

I have been meaning to write a full fledged post about this and even see if anyone out there might want to start such a site. Initially, there would probably just be commentary written by moi, stating the long term goal and encouraging people to share there musical talents in the prison setting.

In the long term I could see doing serious grant writing, fund raising and developing all kinds of resources useful to prison chaplains. Funding could eventually some from the National or regional bodies of the various denominations.

Enough of that dream for now. More to follow.

Bi-Weekly Shopping List.

2007-09-21T08:20:00.000-04:00

I just spent around two hours putting my bi-weekly shopping away.

I have not had freshly fried food since entering the NY state system. Yes they do sell the frozen fried chicken but that is certainly not the same and I have not brought that since the inmate that begged me to let him give me the stamps for half a box left our dorm. Yes, no fried foods is certainly one less unhealthy thing for me to eat and that is a good thing.

One of the things that I work on convincing myself when I see all the great junk food come in to other inmates through the package room is the calories that would add to my attempt to limit my caloric intake. It is a constant battle but one that is certainly a little easy to win now that I have hit the 220 mark.

I have not yet done anything to get my weight down under 210 from the current 220. And to think I was hoping to be under 200. I know I need to do some walking but the logistics of getting to the Rec yard are making that reality difficult for me.

I do not know if this was mentioned early on, but at one point Club Fed started opening the Rec yard at 6:00 AM, before they started serving breakfast. You got a good hour of exercise, in my case walking, in before they called the morning work call. I used to make a P.B. & J. sandwich, head out and put in four miles or so of walking and that was a great way to start the day.

While that is not possible here, I have started back to at least getting up at 6:00 AM and not lying in bed till the last minute before the 7:30 AM mandatory wake-up and beds made. I decided to jump in and get this letter out, even though my usual commissary day scheduled found my laying around reading a book after giving myself a sugar high.

I am typing this letter standing up. It is just 7:00 so I still have three more hours to type this letter to you. I do not want to stop conversing with you, and go to strictly blog post writing. Does that make any sense?

Yes, one can regret moments of laziness, but some times it has more benefits than being active. For example we had two days, (Thursday through Saturday evening) of miserable heat and humidity. The dorm was miserable even just trying to lie on the bunk. No cuddling up under the blankets.

The heat broke during the night Saturday. The wind changed from coming from the south to bring in the nice cooler air from the north. By early Sunday morning I was enjoying be under my two blankets, and ended up staying in bed, under the covers, till 1:30 PM when I jumped up and managed to quickly shower and dress for church at 2:00. I did not have anything to eat or drink till after I returned from Mass around 3:30 PM.

Bi-Weekly Shopping List

3 cans of Dr. Pepper 36¢ each $1.08
3 Cans Chunk Light Tuna in water 6 oz. 53¢ $1.59
5 cans octopus in soy oil 4 oz. 77¢ $3.85
2 Jars (plastic) Parmesan Cheese 3 oz. 82¢ $1.64
1 can Crushed Tomato 28 oz. $.80
1 bottle Strawberry Preserves 22 oz. $1.90
2 cans Mushrooms in water 4 oz. 47¢ $.94
4 cans Black Beans 15.5 oz 38¢ $1.52
1 carton Egg Beaters, whites only, 1 lb. $2.15
1 mustard 8 oz. $.40
1 Catsup 24 oz. $.94
1 Sweet Relish 12.7 oz. $1.29
1 Sugar 2 lb. $1.15
1 box Saltines 1 lb. $.81
1 Tub soft margarine 1 lb. $.81
1 Tea Bags 48 count $.84
1 Peanut Butter - Chunky 18 oz. $1.15
2 loaves Wheat Bread $1.15 $2.30
2 boxes Little Debbie Powdered Donuts 6/4 pks. $1.34 $2.68
4 Pks. English Muffins 6 muffins per $1.00 $4.00
2 pks. American Cheese 16 slices 12 oz. $1.73 $3.46
1 block Cheddar Cheese 8 oz. $1.55
2 pks Buddig Sliced Turkey 2.5 oz. 69¢ $1.38
1 bag onions 2 lb. $.69
1 Cream Cheese 8 oz. $1.09
1 bag shredded Mozzarella 8 oz. $2.05
1 bag Honey Roasted Peanuts 2 Oz. $.34
10 bags Plain M&M's 40¢ $4.00
15 bags of pretzels 1.5 oz. 15¢ $2.25
1 Green Mint Ice Cream Pint $1.28
10 Microwave Popcorn 23¢ $2.30
10 41¢ stamps $4.10
1 Microwave Popcorn $.23
4 pouches Roll your own tobacco Tops 70¢ $2.80
TOTAL $58.35

No, I do not smoke, the Tops is a random act of kindness for two other inmates who will pay me back when they go to the store.

The Senatorial sex sting and a glimmer of hope.

2007-09-20T08:21:00.000-04:00

Not only did the NY Times slim down, they are printing less. The Letters to the Editor carried a notice that they were looking for ways to print more letters. Duh, add a page. The letters is one of the places I love to read to see if I missed a story or op-ed piece.

There have been some comments about the Senatorial sex sting in the airport in the paper. I want to post a whole op-ed piece of my own and have clipped the articles to have as background.

The bigger story to me personally is the Senator attempted to take back his guilty plea. The article devoted to that issue clearly stated how hard that is to do. It mentions that Minnesota has some specific guidelines about when you can take a plea back, which NY did not, but -- and this is a long shot -- if he manages to fight this issue into the federal courts, it could remotely give me a teeny tiny opening to get my issue back in court.

If he claims, for instance, that he was not represented by a lawyer, even though I had a lawyer, I could show his ruling as bolstering my right to effective counsel. That even though I was the one that pled guilty, just like the good Senator, without proper legal counsel, the plea was not proper.

It is a really long stretch from anything in the Senator's case being useful to me. I only mention it to show how at some point I do need to get into the law books and see if someone else with issues similar to mine received a different result. One never knows.

Okay I am really starting to fall apart here so let me wrap this letter up and put the typewriter to bed for the night. Fingers and back are giving out about now. My kingdom for a desk and proper chair to type from.

I am typing this letter direct

2007-09-19T09:27:00.000-04:00

without the proof and print step. Can you tell the difference?

For me writing the letter is the easy part. Going back to proof, edit and reprint is the torturous part. As I think I have mentioned before, it takes around fifteen minutes to edit and print each single spaced page. There is no print buffer so while a page is being printed I can not be editing the next page.

As I mentioned the proof and print part is time consuming for me. Not only do I catch all the corrected spelled but in the wrong place words, but I remove all the redundant words and unneeded words. There should be less "really", "So", and other phrases you have pointed out to me in letters past.

The NY Times is still driving me crazy and I need to figure out where the problem is. Yesterday I received Sunday 9/2 and Wednesday through Saturday (9/5 to 9/8). I thought this might be an omen of things being straightened out since it was normal to receive Friday and Saturday papers on Monday. But today no papers arrived. Drat. Double drat. I did send the letter to the local postmaster on August 30 asking him to log the receipt date for one week's worth of papers. I might get an answer soon?

I was going to wait to get a response from the postmaster and then ask dad to call, but I am not sure how well he would be able to explain the problem. Of course I am assuming that it is not the facility that is all of a sudden sitting on all my papers. The strange thing is that they have enough papers coming to this zip code to put a bunch of papers together. Therefore I assume a stack of papers arrived still in a bundle here at the post office.

Enough about the paper.

To answer a question, we do not get the TV remotes; it prevents one inmate from controlling the television. It would certainly reduce the mechanical wear and tear, but prison in general and this one in particular do not always do things the way that makes the most sense.

In Club Fed, there was one remote in each unit to control all six televisions and most times you had to get it from the officer to make the change. Once in a while the remote would "disappear" and the plugs would be pulled on all televisions until the remote was found.

I happened to watch a half hour or so of the Oprah show yesterday. It was her first show of the season and she taped them in NYC. The show was already on, and it caught my eye as David Letterman was the guest. I laughed and enjoyed the time, but noticed how old Letterman looked. I do not think I have seen him in several years.

I am amazed at how easy I can get sucked into watching something, but also surprise myself how I have so many other things to occupy my time that I wonder how I could have sat (or laid in bed) and watched two or more hours of television a night. Now give me a book to read and off I go.

I had started reading a Nelson DeMille book late Saturday afternoon, and finished it by 1:30 PM Sunday. Damn, I forgot to write the book in my list, I think it was "Wild Fire". It is a post 9/11 book based on the premise that the US has a hardwired automatic response to nuke 100 Islamic sites if any city in the US is attacked by terrorists with nuclear weapons. DeMille claims there is a thread of truth in this plan. It supposedly is known by the leaders of the various Islamic countries and forces them to keep terrorists in line.

Some very rich and powerful men (US citizens) decide to purchase some old Russian suitcase bombs, blow up two US cities, and then force the engagement of Project Wild Fire. No more Islamic problem.

It is one of the spy/conspiracy books that I enjoy and does not go too far afield, in my opinion, from the realm of the possible.

2013.

2007-09-18T06:54:00.000-04:00

Did you read the story (also in Monday's paper) about the California Prisons? The guy who was appointed by the federal courts at the outrageous salary of $500,000 a year. And then they are shipping 8,000 inmates out of state to private prisons. That is a disaster waiting to happen. See story by Logan on private prison that was used to house District of Columbia offenders in the late 90's. They closed it down because of the inhumane conditions. Several hundred of those prisoners ended up at with me, so I heard some of the horror stories first hand.

Maybe someone smarter than I could explain how if one of the major problems with prisons is improper funding, you are going to come out ahead of the game (the game being adequate care for prisoners at the least cost to the taxpayer) if you take monies that previously went 100% to the care of said prisoners and now give it to a private company that still has to provide adequate care with those same dollars, but also takes a cut for the profit of the stockholders?

Meanwhile in the September 2007 edition of "The Lutheran" I was encouraged to learn that the national church body, Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, is developing a Criminal Justice Statement. The item states:

"The assembly approved (957-68) an initiative that grew out of memorials from three synods that will result in a social statement on criminal justice to be considered by the 2013 assembly. The statements will likely deal with the prison system, rehabilitation for those convicted of crimes and the cost of incarcerating criminals."

2013... Maybe I will be out by then.

I seriously think someone got the idea from reading my blog. No, really seriously, I am going to write a letter to the national church, suggesting they be sure to consult with people who have been and still are in the system. That's right, if you are going to take a position on people in prison, it would be a good idea to talk to those who have been on the inside to find out what needs to be addressed. As far as it taking all the way to 2013 to figure that out, well one must not just rush into a project of this scope.

There you have it. Long holiday weekend coming up, already gone by the time you get this, and perhaps I will use the day off from work to dig into the stack of clippings that continues to grow but never seems to make it into the blog.

Into the envelope this goes. Stay well, have fun, and be careful out there.

Hikoo?

2007-09-17T07:18:00.000-04:00

After getting that much delayed letter out to you earlier this week I found my creative juices were running like Niagara Falls. Somehow the brain came up with the idea of writing some Hikoo.

Yes, I know that is not how it is spelled, but that is part of the story. All I could remember was that there were a certain number of syllables on each line. I had hoped that the much used and tattered paperback dictionary you so kindly sent me a while back would have the necessary information as

Assuming that perhaps the word was in the dictionary but that I might be misspelling it, which would be a surprise, I then pulled out the massive hard covered Crossword Puzzle dictionary. I looked up "poetry" and there was listed Haiku.

Now back to the dictionary I go, and there it is H A I K U right where it belongs. All well and good for those of us not gifted with a rather unorthodox approach to spelling.

To bring this bit of rambling to an end, the definition did include the formula I sought, and so the following is the result of that information. In case you have forgotten, it is three lines, five syllables on the first and last lines and seven in the middle one.

To my blog readers. I know sometimes my writing can seem to go on and on and the point I am making could be made with fewer words. In that vein, I submit the following Haiku's that were written over the last twenty-four hours.

Moon full, bright and round
Its bright light shines through the trees
Can you see tonight?

Full moon round and bright
Light shines through trees and windows
You see it tonight

This poem is haiku
Five, seven, five in three lines
I think I'll write more

Prison is a dark place
No one really looks too deep
It is lonely here

Mom's Birthday has passed
I forgot to send a card
This poem is for her.

I did not think hard
To write these lines of Haiku
I should write more oft.

Jesus loves us all
He died to save you and me
He rose, lives on high.

I fixed a T.V.
Power cord and on/off switch bad
It is now okay.

Building a bookcase
Using half inch ply, rough stuff
Sander made it smooth

Morn had coffee cake
Lunch peanut butter, jelly
Dinner, we will see.

Use too many words
So with haiku must be terse
Make it sound like verse.

Pen pals I would like
Each to share life's journey with
Grateful I will be.

Two doughnut packs lent
Today no doughnuts in store
Will wait two weeks more.

Feel better today
Ice cream and treats yesterday
How long I feel up?

Where would problems go
If all the world wrote haiku
Would there be world peace?

Dinner octopus
Pasta, spice, catsup, mustard
Served chilled, with relish.

Busy post dinner
Will make birthday card for Mom
And type my haikus

Time to check pasta
Is it done yet, yes it is
Time to chill and eat.

Fall is coming soon
Some trees outside my window
Are all green no more.

Dinner is done, I'm full
Need to start typing these out
Maybe I will rest.

Microsoft is huge
Bill Gates has oodles of cash
I wish I had his.

Hand sewing pillows
They once were two, now one stuffed
Is this task legal?

Names I have been called
But now sew and sew seems right
Pillow sewed up tight.

The goal is soul mate
And lots of treasured friendships
So why not pen pal?

Work today was nice
My antagonist was out
No harsh words today.

Antagonism
Means Active opposition
Or hostility, urgh.

Some of these poems are
Really not that good and some
Are really no good.

Well let us see if this latest creative spark gets any reaction out there in blogland.

Two mailings this week, this is more like it.

2007-09-16T17:53:00.000-04:00

I am really pissed at the NY Times. Although I need to send a letter to the local postmaster (and hope he responds) confirming that the delay in receiving the papers is not the prison's doing.

Today I finally received Sunday and Monday. These papers usually arrived on Tuesday.

It is difficult to maintain a disciplined approach to reading when they are arriving so haphazardly.

I did scan Monday's paper and came across an interesting tidbit about Virgil Griffith. Have you been to his site? WikiScanner. The article on page 6 of the Business Section, mentions how this new site can trace back who makes changes to entries at Wikipedia.

I love this sentence: "Mr. Griffith's web site exposed dozens of interesting changes to Wikipedia entries that had been traced to computers at government agencies like the C.I.A., as well as to corporate..."

Can we get an example of "interesting changes" by the C.I.A.?

Knock knock.

2007-09-15T09:27:00.000-04:00

Okay, we are going to try yet another approach to letter writing. This will not even be proofed today. It will sit till tomorrow, then be proofed and printed. The goal being even tighter copy and fewer missed errors.

This idea came to me while I was just taking my shower, then with the stress of having to get this in the mail tonight lessened, I got the brainstorm of an idea for Dad's Birthday card. It will be based on the following knock-knock joke:

Knock knock
Who’s there?
No
No who?
No who forgot your birthday?
Happy Birthday...

Now that I have shared that brainstorm with you, I will have to come up with something even more outstanding for your much delayed, and certainly well deserved card. Stay tuned for that exciting event.

It is around 8:30 PM and so I will be wrapping this letter up for the night. Tomorrow my well trained eye will edit the bejeezus out of this missive and deliver to you something that even Bill Gate's spelling and grammar checkers will find minimal fault with.

Hey a guy can dream can't he?

Today was the bi-weekly commissary trip

2007-09-14T09:23:00.000-04:00

and not even a ton of sugar can lift my spirits.

I had my usual pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream. Since I have been eating on the taxpayers dime of late, I was able to splurge and purchased an Entenmann's Cheese Filled Crumb Coffee Cake. Retail price is $4.79, we pay only $3.64. 1 will end up carving out seven or eight pieces tomorrow and spread a little cheer among my neighbors. Sure I could eat the whole thing, tonight even, but I know I do not need all the extra calories.

I received Self-Made Man on Friday, finished on Saturday. It is the story of a gay woman who passed herself off as a guy for one year. It raises a bunch of interesting ideas that I want to expand on via a post. That will be arriving shortly.

I have not gotten back on my healthy eating plan, and am loath to get on a scale. This Friday I will probably be making a trek down to the medical center in the city for the 90 day check-up from my nose surgery.

If things go as they have in the past, I will get up about 4:30 AM, be handcuffed all day, plus belly chain and leg irons while on the road. Since the surgeons do not show up till after 1:00 PM, it is usually around 3:00 PM when we (anywhere from seven to fifteen other inmates) are ready to get back on the road. This being summertime, traffic around here is rather heavy. I will hopefully return to my humble dwelling about 6:00 PM.

I am typing this out as a draft, and will be jumping in the shower shortly. Let me check on the showers, then come back to proof and print this wandering letter. I'll be back.

I am able to lift out of the funk

2007-09-13T21:36:00.000-04:00

but not hoist myself up the mountain of happiness. I know I am in prison, but once in a while a body needs to soar above the slings and arrows of everyday life. Please do not think of this as whining. I am only writing this out in an attempt to see if it eases my mind in any way.

The lesson of accomplishing two major tasks in one day, making sure one unit had a working ice machine and our unit had a properly functioning large screen television, reinforces the fact that I am very capable of handling more responsibility in the maintenance department, but am kept "down" by certain staff members with the feeble excuse that I am the carpenter.

If I do not have a carpentry project to do, then I am supposed to sit around and wait for one. Thankfully the regular officer that supervises us (and just returned from a two week vacation) has me do other tasks as long as I do not have a carpentry project to work on.

I just finished going through the Sunday NY Times and read with interest the article in the Styles section about Perez Hilton. Hmm let me see... blog about the lives of Hollywood stars, has millions of hits, and my humble blog... Is this a case of style over substance?

Being honest, this blog has not had all that much substance of late, but hopefully the six pages I sent last week plus more to follow this week will bring about some more spirited comments and possible debate.

I just realized as I typed a short memo for another inmate right before I started this missive, that I forgot all about my dad's birthday, and still never sent you the birthday card I promised. Blame it on the funk. I will have to atone for my lapses post haste.

Unappreciated TV Repairman.

2007-09-12T08:40:00.000-04:00

Meanwhile, there is not much carpentry work to do, so I am able to get out of the wood shop and fix some of the other things that get accidentally broken around here.

One of the two televisions in our unit suffered from a broken down volume control. This unit is around forty inches diagonally, Cathode ray tube design. These units are being replaced with plain old twenty-seven inch units. If it cannot be fixed, it is gone.

The buttons on the televisions these days are not meant to be used all that much. Everyone uses remotes. We do not, and certainly we are not talking about the most gentle fingers pushing these buttons. In addition, these buttons are not even buttons, but plastic "L" shaped pieces that pivot when pressed, depressing a micro switch on the circuit board.

Several televisions have not survived the operation that is needed to remedy this broken switch problem. The solution is to solder some phone wire leads to each side of the micro switch, and then using one of those hobby type plastic boxes, install six push button switches that will then hopefully trigger the proper operation; Channel up/down, volume up/down, on/off.

As luck would have it, this particular television had a separate (and simple) circuit board that only had the various micro buttons on it. I was able to remove the board from the television and easily solder on the needed wires. This project started Monday morning. While I was working on the television, I was dispatched to check into a possibly malfunctioning ice machine for another unit. I should mention that I installed a smaller but functioning television in my unit as a loaner while the bigger screen television was in the shop.

Instead of returning to my unit at 10:00 AM as usual, I went over to the chow hall to work on the computer. My absence from the unit at the 11:00 count was certain to raise some mild alarm as to what was up with the precious television. After lunch I returned to work on the television but was first instructed to be sure to get a working ice machine back to the unit I had removed the unit from that morning. I had previously been told that I was the carpenter (while I was working on getting an ice machine working) and Ralph (already an alias), another inmate, was in charge of ice machines.

At this point since Ralph was busy doing something else, all of a sudden I am back working on ice machines. The outcome was that at 2:00 I was just finishing up soldering the last of the wires to the new buttons, and was able to get the officer to allow me to bring the television back up to our unit. This television sits on a large wall mounted stand. No tools were needed to switch this television with the smaller replacement. All tools are returned by 2:00 PM and that is the end of our work day.

When I walked into the dorm without the television in my arms, I was greeted with some howls and other comments as to where was the television. I explained it was right outside but I needed two strong guys to carry it in.

The ending of this story is that instead of receiving praise for fixing the television, I received "Boy are you lucky you brought that back up with you!" comments. While it might have been said somewhat tongue in cheek, it was more the feeling I was not being recognized as being a hero, but since I was able to fix it, my fellow inmates would tolerate me for a while longer.

Somewhat constant?

2007-09-11T09:06:00.000-04:00

It is 6:00 PM here on a hot Tuesday evening and I am in my somewhat constant state of funk. Somewhat constant? Can you put those two words together?

Seriously, things here tend to be emotionally bruising, or just barely above even. This place can really put you in the dumps, and the best you can hope for is to be lifted out of the hole of despair and plunked down at the foot of the mountain of happiness. You are left with little energy to ascend the mountain, either through external stimulation, or strictly one's own internal resources.

That matches my physical surroundings to some extent. Our little taxpayer-supported secure location is nestled between two ranges of hills (mountain seems to be too big of a word). While the view at this time of year is miles of green rolling hills, the bottom border of the picture is the ever present fence and razor wire that keeps us (or you) safe and secure.

On the good news side of things I have put in some serious hours sitting in front of a computer and toying around with two database programs. This differences between the last time and this time is that I have been seen working on the computer by several sergeants and even the Superintendent (top dog).

Today however, the head of the maintenance department was in the mess hall (this is where I am working on the computer) and attempted to prove that I was doing something entirely beyond what I, as an inmate, was allowed to do.

Since I have very little interaction with him it is hard to tell how much of his trash talking was said with tongue in cheek. He is in a position to point out to other staff people that perhaps it is not a good idea to have me working on the computer.

Unlike in Club Fed there is no institution network, and this computer is a standalone unit that is used for generic word processing task and not at all for any secret information.

One problem is I never did much programming in the Windows environment, so I am forging ahead by the seat of my pants. The machine only has a copy of Microsoft Works and Lotus Approach. Both of these programs do not appear to have the flexibility I need to complete this project. The officer I am working with is working on getting a copy of Access which would solve that problem, but then I have to learn how to get Access to do what I need.

Currently there are two different sets of forms; each set contains a different form layout. Each set has a page for each day of the week. When an inmate moves beds, or is removed or added to food service, there are up to fourteen different places that need to be changed.

Is that clear?