Hustle

Nearly everyone has seen that heavily tattooed prisoner.  Most people know doing tattoos is perhaps the biggest chain gang hustle.  There are quite a few others as well….

There’s the guy who puts sugar and rice into a container, along with a few other ingredients, then let’s them sit and ferment.  Heat accelerates this process.  This mix is placed into containers and buried in the ground on the reck field.  This way the guards are less likely to find the brew.  Guys don’t drink to be social.  They drink to get smashed.  Once a batch is cooked, a group of guys will get together and get their drunk on.  A big tumbler of this wine or “buck” as we call it sells for $5.  It takes two cups to get smashed.  Your buzz will cost you approximately $10. 

Once a week our menu is chicken.  The last real meat the department of corrections serves inmates.  Inmates continue to serve each other meat.  But that’s a whole different hustle.  And one we won’t get into. 

The chicken is bland, so…. there’s a hustle for that as well.  Ketchup, mixed with some chili powder, garlic and a few secret ingredients produces a sauce.  The secret is in the mix and that’s why I don’t buy the secret sauce.  However, plenty of people do. 

The sauce man mixes these ingredients and sells the sauce on chicken days.  Hopefully he hasn’t made too many bathroom breaks while he made the sauce.  Or that became another secret ingredient.  Sauce is sold in a glove finger. That’s one serving and will cost you one Ramen Soup, or the equivalent of $.50. 

People in prison love to gamble.  There are square boards passed around on game day.  These are tickets for your favorite teams and point spreads.  We call this guy the ticket man.  The pot (or winnings) can be anywhere from a couple dollars to hundreds.  Gambling is a big hustle.  And prisoners gamble on nearly everything.  Gambling is not limited to sports.  These guys gamble on who will wipe out first in the Nascar race.  They gamble on who will be voted off American Idol first.  They gamble on whose dick is bigger.  Clearly it gets out of hand.  What they need back here is gamblers anonymous. I’ll bet that never happens.

For a bag of coffee a week you can have a guy wash your laundry for you.  The coffee costs $4.80 a bag.  You pay extra to have your boxers washed.  Another guy will make your bunk for you.  For a small fee you can get nearly anything done to you, or for you.

Last week a buddy of mine and I opened the Jolly Pop Factory.  They are called jolly pops because they are made from jolly ranchers.  There are three jolly ranchers to a sucker.  The candies are heated up with hot water and reshaped into a sucker, and then a stick is added.  The stick is a Q-tip with the fuzz removed from each end. 

They sell all day for a soup, or $.50. 

We have $.26 invested between the Q-tips, the candy and the latex glove we form the candy in.  Yeah, that’s right.  We re-form the candy in the fingers of the gloves.  Then leave the candy wrapped in the finger.  We cut them from the glove so they are individually gift-wrapped.  

A Jolly Pop all packaged and ready to be enjoyed!

A Jolly Pop being enjoyed!

A well formed Jolly Pop!

STAY TUNED!!!  I (Brooke, the typist) am going to attempt to make Jolly Pops this weekend and share the video with you!  AND I will be making them with a special guest.....J.J. himself!!  That's right.  No, he is not on this side of the fence yet.  But, he is going to join me on the phone.  

 Next week we (as in J.J. and his buddy) will attempt granola bars.  And now you know too much....

Hello, My Name Is.....

Brooke. 

I work, pay bills, run errands, and....put on my pants the same you do.  There is nothing extraordinarily special about me.  I am a loyal friend, a loving sister and a mother of two beautiful children.  I am a childhood friend of J.J. and now a proud blogger.  Or....typist...that seems more appropriate being that these posts are J.J.'s thoughts.  Not mine.

Let me take you for a fast ride down memory lane.  20 years ago, I use to run through the woods with J.J. after church.  Engage in snowball fights, build forts, play tag and take dog sled rides with my friend, who now calls himself J.J.  Today, we write.

Many, many years went by since we have talked.  I heard stories about J.J.  Living a colorful life.  Living big.  Living on the edge.  But, through all the years, I have always considered him my friend.  I have always kept him in my prayers.  Then, one year ago I heard about a blog named Judicious Jailbird.

I checked it out.  Like J.J., I grew up in a conservative Christian home.  Unlike, J.J. I never dreamed of trying the things he did.  I remember thinking, "Really? You turned your closet into a grow room?"  when I read Growing Up.  I remember holding my breath when I read the series My Life.  I remember my heart sinking when I read Dark Days.

Last summer, once I caught up on my friend's life, we started to write.  We have laughed about childhood memories.  We share our ups and downs.  We travel the world together as we write about the adventures we hope to experience one day.  And, we challenge each other to new thoughts and opinions.

Last summer, I was also surprised by a news story that explained the Muskegon County Jail (in West Michigan) was changing the inmate mail policy.  The new policy outlines that inmates can no longer receive incoming letters, but are now restricted to postcards from their loved ones.  I read strings of comments in support of the new policy.  Some comparing the jail/prison system to summer camps.  I have never been to jail/prison, but I am pretty sure that they do not have canoe trips, campfires with S'mores, and sing Kumbaya.  I thought about my friend J.J.  I thought about the people he writes, and how he feels a part of their lives.  I thought about the time he spends writing posts and drawing art for this project, and how this helps him do his time in a positive and productive way.  I thought about how incredibly important these things are to J.J. as he spends his time bettering himself.  I was disappointed to read what others wrote in support of taking away inmate's mail.  I am disappointed in society's harsh judgements.  Inmates are already being punished. Who are we to continue to punish them?

Moved by my disappointment, I wrote to J.J. and told him that I would be happy to help him if I could.  Now, I am proud to be the childhood friend that shares J.J.'s stories and talents with you.

I believe that it is important for inmates to stay connected to life on the other side of the fence.  It is important for them to stay in contact with family and friends.  And, I believe that this is a positive and productive project for J.J. to have in his life.  (Right, I know.  You may read some things and think "Productive?"  But c'mon.....think about it......he is hanging on his bunk writing and drawing rather than gambling or doing drugs, among many other choices that are presented on a daily basis.) 

Prison doesn't rehabilitate inmates.  Inmates choose to rehabilitate themselves.  I believe that J.J. has chosen to better himself.  And, I know that this project plays a large role in his quest for a better life.

It is quite likely that you do not always agree with him.  That's OK.  I don't either.  I am not here because these are my opinions or thoughts.  I am here because he is my friend.

 

   

Lean on Me

[An oldie, but a goodie.  Ester found this post from July!]

Over the course of this blog, I have wrote very openly about my drug abuse,  I do this in hopes that my story may help someone who is currently living the same struggle I lived.  However, there are other reasons as well.

A recovering addict needs love and support...much support.  You can’t make it alone.  Perhaps you’re having a struggle in your own life.  I’m talking to you right now.  First you have to recognize the problem.  Drugs are the most common, but alcohol, gambling, even sex are things that grab hold and are hard to be free from.  Eating disorders, smoking… the list goes on and on.

I realize in my own life I have made big moves toward staying sober.  First, I know I had a problem.  Next, I went to my family, the people who love me, and asked for their support.

This project has become a huge part in my decision to remain free from drugs.  Accountability.  I look back over my life and realize that prison, in many ways, saved my life.  Then, the J.J. project – not the ‘project’ as much as you.  YEAH, you!  Just as you are sitting there reading, you are quite honestly watching me.  What’s this dude gonna say or do next? – this has become a major part in my choice to live a sober life.

Even if I manage to get clean on my own, if nobody else knows, then I’m really only letting myself down if I go back to my old life.

…And honestly, as an addict, you let yourself down all the time.  …Because deep in your heart, you want to be free, but it hurts and you give in.  That’s why if you really want to be free… tell someone. 

There are drugs here.  We get random drug tests back here because they know there are drugs here.  I am still free.  Since I was 15 years old I have smoked cigarettes.  About two years ago, I decided to quit.  It lasted for almost 3 months and I started back.  I beat myself up, too.  Part of me said "See, you’re not as strong as you thought."  …And that right there pissed me off.

I realized I needed a reason.  I needed to give my heart a good reason to help myself.  Fourteen years ago this August, my daughter was born.  I found the reason I needed in my little girl.  On her birthday this year, I was one year smoke-free.  You may not think that’s such a big deal.  For me it is huge.  You see, I have an addictive personality.  I needed this.  I needed to know I was stronger than my addiction.

I won’t lie, I didn’t even tell my daughter I quit until the 8^th month.  I was scared to fail again.  When I told her, I wished I had done it earlier.  Because I never want to let her down.  I already have let her down enough.  Now that I told her, it’s over.  …Back to accountability.

For this very reason, I write stuff like this.  Maybe it will encourage you if you’re having a hard time right now.  But even more than that, you have become my reason to stay clean.

If you have a problem, tell somebody.  Tell your mom, tell your dad, tell your spouse or your best friend.  Find a church and tell a pastor.  Tell someone who cares.  I care.  This project cares.  Don’t feel like you stand alone.  Find help, then take that hand and hold on for dear life.

My sister and I developed this thing in order to help people.  It helps me all the time.  I’ve said it before, but it’s on my heart again.  Maybe you need a reason.  Perhaps you are searching and you need an answer.  Do you need some help?

Why did I sit down and write this today?  Why was I awake at 2 a.m. to write ReachingOut?  …Because of things I can’t see.

Ester and I had a conversation months ago.  She said she likes to follow her heart.  I love you sissy.  You follow your heart and before long, you will know all too well about heartbreak.  I’m a convict doing hard time.  That’s why I follow my gut.  It’s a built in safety device – a device that quite likely has saved my life.

But since I’m all about keeping it real, I can’t lie either.  Sure, I try and sound like the tough guy, but you read The Answer is Love and you’ll know my heart is in this project.  I’ve never met you, but I care about your life.  I don’t care if you’re from my own backyard or from the outback.  Black or white – I don’t see lines of any kind.  Maybe you just need to know someone cares.  I let my little girl be the reason for me.  You need to find that reason for yourself. 

Maybe you’ve burned your family one too many times and stumbled upon this blog.  I questioned whether or not to write this.  Maybe you’re wondering why you’re here, listening to me today.  I don’t know if it was my heart or my gut.  Maybe both inspired this.  These days, I just go with it.  Either way… I still have a good hand that reaches out.  So does my sister.  You are not alone.

If you are free, be thankful.  If you want to be free, you can be.  I get a lot done from bunk 113.  And, I have time for you.  We’re cool like that.  Is there something you want to read about?  Is there a topic you would like me to write about?  Just leave a comment here.  I will hear about it.  I will sit on bunk 113 and write a new post.....a new post that might help you, a friend of yours, or a family member that you love.  Just say the word. 

As always, much love from The Hooligan