Confinement : J Dorm

Art from the box......

This was drawn on the back of a cover letter to a legal paperwork (thus the yellowish background).  There are several things jammed in this piece that is significant to doing time.....prison bars, bricks, hour glass, spider web, and stitches.  This helped J.J. kill several hours while sitting in confinement not too long ago.

So Nasty: A Poem From Confinement

While sitting in confinement, J.J. had many memories.  Some are good like the story he wrote about in "From Black & White to Color".  Others are....well....a bit more raw.  Remember, he sat in a box and either enjoyed his mind, or fought with his mind.  Below is a poem J.J. wrote while he sat in confinement for 13 days.  This post reflects the 'other' thoughts he encountered during those 13 long days.... 

Should I hang my head and cry?
I mean...is there a reason?
Like I jumped ship, absconded, or committed treason.
Who's the judge that handed down my sentence?
Probably had a rough night, maybe a fight.
Woke to his breakfast cold.
Realizing he's getting old.
Where's the jury, hung me out to dry?
Had other things to do.
Didn't plan to take the stand.
Now civil duty calls....ain't life a fuckin' ball?

Show up on that day, you're only half awake.
You're not fit to drive, let alone judge a man's life.
Yet here you sit in your Burberry print.
Now you've stuck it to him, rid the streets of vermin.
You'll walk out, light a smoke.
And forget the decision that sent a man to prison.
Go about your life, chasing a dollar.
If crack kills, then greed soon follows.
You're to your chin in shit!  Soon you'll choke on it.

As I sit atop this concrete jungle,
I can't help but chuckle.
A horse has blinders.  What I have is reminders.
Of a life grown cold.  Wine that soured. 
Today a new light shines.  I finally found mine.
Thanks for nothing and everything...
All at the same time.

Ingested failure, a numb-all savior.
Life without hope.  A hard pill to shallow.
My genies in the bottle and freedom soon follows.  

Buddha Inspiration

A few quotes from Buddha......

"An insincere and evil friend is more to be feared than a wild beast; a wild beast may wound your body, but an evil friend will wound your mind."

"Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment."

"Hatred does not cease by hatred, but only by love; this is the eternal rule."

Now, enjoy the new art.......

 

From the Box to Food Service

The only thing certain about a prisoner's life is that everything is subject to change.  One day to the next.  Rules and regulations...all these change.  Here I am, quite certain I'm following all the rules of the land when I'm arrested and placed in the box.

Since coming to prison, I have learned to blend.  Work with what I am given.  However, this situation was different.  This trip to confinement is what we call back here, "on-the-house"...meaning I broke no rules to be thrown into confinement.  As the arresting officer said to me...."Mr. Smith, just look at it like a small vacation.  Catch up on some rest."

During the 13 days I was locked up, I did just that.  I was still frustrated knowing that this accounted to being in the wrong place at the wrong time.  Last time I went to the box, I knew I was dead wrong.  My mother was disappointed.  I understood exactly why they locked me up.  This time? Not-so-much!

Well, at least I didn't let my mother down.  My lady couldn't be upset.  Still, for the first couple of days I was quite pissed off about the disruption in my life.  Slowly that began to change.  Normal housing in prison has no A.C.  Our temperatures here in Florida are already in the 90s.  The box has A.C.  Next is the feeding schedule.  On the regular compound, you walk to the chow hall with your dorm.  Not only is it 90 degrees, but there are afternoon showers here as well.  Those "April showers that bring May flowers"....well that brings May showers too.  It's nearly a daily routine to not only get your meal, but get a shower as well.  Not so while sitting in the box.  They bring you your food tray.

After my first couple days in lock up, I began to see the benefits.  Even here in this small world you begin to adjust to things.  A trip to confinement means you will lose the bunk you had.  By the time you are released, someone else will fill that space.  This means a new bunk, and even a new dorm.  Many times a new job assignment.  These things are petty.  In the bigger picture I seem much more.

Like one day my mortgage payment is due, the transmission goes on the family car, and my dog runs away.  You know....the stuff country songs are made from.  I reckon I'll just smile.....knowing this too shall pass.  I'll reach back and pull out a memory of a time I was locked up and had nothing but a travel-sized toothbrush and half a bar of soap.  As long as I have a pulse, I'm alive.

I was just released after 13 days in the hole.  Just as I figured, they gave me a new job.  My new assignment will be an 8 to 10 hour shift in the kitchen.  Working food service.  Preparing food for my fellow brothers on this compound.  We just entered the hottest months of summer and I will be there for the next 6 months.  Food service is the most hated job on the compound.  You go in, put in your 6 months, then get out as quickly as possible.  Every other job they give you, there are ways to cut corners.  This is not possible in food service.  They work you decent.  One of my buddies told me with a 'smile'....."Well Smith, you'll have plenty of shit to write about now."

And he's right.  I'll do just that.  Count on it!  Even if I'm exhausted, I will still tell the stories of what I encounter.  HA!  At least I'm not in the box.  Good preparation for one day out there when I think I've had all I can take.

So the Hooligan is back.  The stories will continue.  The art will as well.  Stay tuned.  This blog reflects my life.  Always subject to change, but never a dull moment!!!  Hold on and live vicariously through me....your incarcerated friend,  The Tattoo'd Hooligan

Be grateful for what you have.....

A note from Brooke: For me, the new season brings new wants.  I would like a new clothes.  New shoes.  New home decor.  Things to freshen up life around me.  Then, J.J. sends me this.  A list of his belongings.  Things he has collected in the past four years of living in DOC.  I was quickly reminded to be grateful for the many things that I have.  When I posted "From Black and White to Color", I mentioned that inmates do not have much.  They have nothing when they go to "the box".  Here you can see exactly what J.J. owns........

 

Some Funny shit!

God I feel great.  It's good to be alive.  I'm 33 years old.  My lady came to visit me the other day.  During our visit she held my hand and told me how soft hands are.  I laughed.  Then went on to say that's to be expected.  I don't work.  I'm self-employed and my biggest job is trying not to work. 

I enrolled in a bible correspondence class.  They are studying the Book of John.  I say THEY are studying because I have yet to complete and return a lesson.  I'm currently in danger of being thrown out, but I haven't even shown up yet.  They have sent me two nice postcards informing me they are eagerly awaiting my first lesson.  Maybe I could send them a postcard back to tell them I'm almost done.  The other option is to pay someone else to do the class for me.  My lady said I may not do that.  Something about being sacrilegious.  (Is that like keeping a Bible on the back of the toilet and reading it while you take a shit?  I'm not sure.)

I'm not poking fun here.  I enjoy stupid people and at times I am one as well.  I overheard the village idiot tell everyone he wasn't going to gamble anymore.  Yes, even here in prison we have a village idiot.  Most times we have more than one.  This one states he's done gambling.  He states this by saying that he bets no-one sees him playing cards and betting anymore.  Sounds like a plan.  He was gambling earlier today. 

I see this all the time.  Your in prison for drugs.  Instead of getting clean, you use them here as well.  Not only that, but you spend the small money you family sends you on dope.  If your people knew you sat in here gambling and paying $3.00 a cigarette, they would cut your silly ass off.  The best part...they're big ballers on the street with two houses, five cars, and their chain hangin' to the floor.  Screw it.  They're not my responsibility and when I leave here, I go home alone. 

Here I am, giving you my thoughts and opinions as if you asked for them.  You didn't. But....what if you had? 

I ask people for something, and I pay attention to the answer.  Not many people do this anymore.  Paying attention is a dying art.  Everybody is in such a rush all the time.  Why call, when you can text?  Texting means that you don't even have to talk. 

You call a business with a question.  (Now pay attention....because you call them with a question.)  And the first thing they say to you is...."Please hold."  Have you ever told them no?  Doesn't matter cause you are already being placed on hold.  That's not even a question.  And I like to reply with...."hold these nuts."  Then you hang up, call back and as soon as they say the name of their business, ask them to hold.

Same thing when someone is walking past you and says "Hello, how are you?"  They're walking past for Christs sake.  They don't plan to talk to you.  So as as courtesy we say, "Fine, thanks."  You may be anything BUT fine, yet you will answer that you're good.  Why?  Because we are nice, programmed Americans.  Try giving someone a long answer next time.  Make them stop walking.  Make them stand there for a second.  What?  Does that make me an ass?  Hell no!

When my lady begins to tell me about her new earrings and high heels?  I listen.  When she tells me she painted her toes to match her nails, now she needs a purse to match?  Yep, I listen.  For the most part she listens to me.  I mean, all you ladies have that "selective hearing" perfected.  You will lie and say the kids did that to you.....no, your man did.

So I told her I want a cannon in our front yard.  A big one.  With the wheels and all.  Like civil war style.  And I'm painting it gold.  This is my cannon and I don't want anyone touching it.  Maybe I'll put a little fence around it.  I'm excited about this.  My lady buys purses, all I want is a gold cannon.  Owning a cannon is really cool.  Maybe I could start a club.  Baby!!  Will you look into that?!

Do you know your ABCs?

Awwww, our Judicious Jailbird knows his ABCs! 
Give him a big round of applause, please!  (They are pretty sa-weet.)

From Black & White to Color

UPDATE: Our friend J.J. has been away for the past 13 days, locked up in confinement.  The good news is that he did nothing wrong, was charged with nothing, and has a powerful mind to stay strong and positive.  The bad news is that he had to live in a box for 13 days.  Inmates do not have much as it is.  They have nothing when they are locked in confinement. Alone.  In a box.  No natural light.  No windows.  No fresh air.  No contact with others.  Nothing.  Just you and your mind sitting in a solid room, battling your very own thoughts.  Three showers per week.  And the food that is dropped...don't like it?  Doesn't matter.  You still eat it...it will be awhile before you see another tray of food.

The following post was written on DAY 3 of confinement.  It just arrived in the mail. 
 
So, I woke up today with some funny memory of my brother and I as kids.  We lived at Lakeside, so we were 13 or 14 years old, I guess.  Could have been a tad younger I suppose.  Dad wouldn't let us have a TV.  Mom and dad were on the super-duper "Christianity Bus" back then. Someone in the Lakeside camp was throwing away a broken TV.  Thing was, it was for your car, not your house.  So it plugged into a cigarette lighter. 

First thing I did was find a converter so it would plug into a wall socket.  Then I had it turned on so there was power.  I finally discovered the problem was a loose wire.  No channels would come in.  Being 14, I didn't realize the power of the electric current that went into that little, compact, travel-sized, black and white TV. 

So....while it was plugged in, I used a butter knife to reconnect the loose wire I had found.  I found something else out that day.  Electricity is a mother fucker!  When that wire reconnected, it shot down the handle of that metal butter knife and reconnected me with the far wall of our basement.  My little 14-year-old ass sat pinned to the wall, shaking, in fear for my life.

My brother Aaron looked on in amazement.  How had his big brother's fat ass launched so quickly across the room?  As soon as the smoke settled we discovered our little compact, travel-sized, black and white TV now worked.  We were amazed.  Not only had we defeated a broken TV, but we had also defeated our dad.  We now had our very own TV set.

Being that TV was in the basement of our home, it only got two channels.  Both of which were soap operas.  That was fine!  We were both quickly the two youngest fans of Days of our Lives and Young and the Restless.  It really didn't matter what was on....we were watching TV!!!  We were rebels.

And....everyone knows that 'soap operas' is slang for 'soft porn'.  And there's a whole lot of sleeping around going on.  Even at 14 I couldn't tell why they called it General Hospital.  Seems they should have said "generally" in a "bedroom" since that's where most of their filming happened.  But "hospital" sounds more professional and a lot less slutty.  I won't lie....the slutty part was our favorite.
Amazing the things me and my brother did.  Even more amazing we never burned the house down.  This was a pleasant memory to wake up to this morning.  Being that I am currently in confinement, locked away to my thoughts.  Seems my brother manages to pop up at the craziest time in my life.

Last time he popped in, I was on a table in the emergency room.  OD'ing on drugs and hanging on for dear life.  He held my hand and walked me back from the edge.  That's a day I will never forget.  For some reason I had forgotten about the black and white TV.

I think memories are so special because they pop back up right when you need them.  God sent my little brother to help me that day drugs tried to take me away.  My little brother showed back up today to help me through day three of confinement.

Situations like this hold your body in a physical sense.  Your mind is free.  My mind is free.  They only succeed in confining my body.

Thank you Aaron David for swinging through to once again save your big brother.  Thank you to all my family, and my lady who stand tall beside me no matter where I find myself.  Thank you, the reader, for giving me someone to talk to.

    

Wild, Wild West

So, here I sit listening to some country music drawing the American Dream. OK.  Perhaps not "America's" dream, just some dude's dream....which would be a chick with a big gun.  Likewise, women may share that same dream.  Well, a man with a big gun.  And.....that opens up a whole new topic.  I am now a convicted felon, and not allowed to own a firearm.  So, instead of a gun hanging in my truck's back window, there will be a bow with some arrows.

The other day, I promised my lady that I will still keep our home safe and secure.  No, I cannot pop-a-cap in an intruder.  Instead, he will feel like he stepped into the wild, wild west.  Meet Ted Fuckin' Nugent. 

Break into my house and I'm gonna light your ass up like a trophy buck, then I'm gonna do a little warrior dance.  I told my girl that instead of a musket above our fireplace mantle, we will hang a recurve bow.  She laughs.  She is always laughing at me.  I asked if I can wear a coon-skin cap.  She doesn't care.  Most women would recommend counseling, or some meds....not my lady.  She says I'm sweet. There is really nothing sweet about me.  I mean I hope that someone does break into my house just so that I can shoot them with a bow, in a coon-skin cap, and then do my warrior dance.


Hmmm.  This topic presents another aspect also.  Most fathers pass on hunting and fishing to their kids.  I possess a number of talents.  Not many should be passed to the younger generation.  Looks like fishing it is.  Thing is, fishing is boring.  So then we throw rocks in the water.  I may not be able to shoot guns, but I can throw a mean rock.  I'm also a fairly good shot with a bow. 

Do you suppose David's daddy was a felon?  Well, I mean he taught David to use the sling so well that David killed Goliath with a rock.  That's a pretty good shot. 

So, I see my kids telling their friends...."Well, I can't come over today because my dad is taking me to shoot the bow and practice the sling."  Really, that's fine.  Too many kids sit inside with a Nintendo controller in their hands.  My kids?  They are going to roam the neighborhood with sling shots.  HA!  The only time I'll get to shoot a gun is on their Nintendo.  That's a plan....I'll send them outside to throw rocks, while dad takes over the Nintendo.  Ahhh....parenting isn't so hard after all.  I will need to make sure the kids are throwing rocks at someone else's house....not ours.  (Oh, settle down....I am joking!  Well, not about not throwing rocks at our house.  But, I do know that they shouldn't be throwing rocks at anybody's house.) 

OK.  Just one more thing.  I have been listening to a  lot of country lately.  Zac Brown Band!  You guys ROCK!  Rascal Flatts, could you put some bass in your voice?  The lyrics are great though.

Hmmmm....I guess that's about all for now.  I'll check back later.  You all keep it real now.

Music moves J.J., and all of the dudes around him! 

Last summer, J.J. wrote "Music Moves Me".  In that piece he wrote....

One of the things prison took from me was the ability to play music. Notice I didn’t say they took music from me. That’s the beauty of music. It stays in your heart and soul. Nobody can take that away from you.  So, like tonight, from time to time, we escape through the music. Priceless.

Shawshank Redemption is one of J.J.'s favorite movies.  Here is his favorite scene from Shawshank....a touching example of how music can touch somebody's soul.  J.J. and all the dudes around him are truly grateful for music!

My Guns Are Bigger Than Your Guns.....

J.J. was digging the character that claims to not be a people person......Meet Salvador, the Gunzerker, in Borderlands The Game!