Caffeine & Sugar

Sitting here eating a strawberry pop-tart, sipping on a fresh cup of coffee, and rubbing some sleep out of my eye.  Before long, the sugar and caffeine will begin to course through my veins.  Breakfast of champs, I say.  I eat pop-tarts and shovel shit.  Day in and day out.  It's what I do.....time.

Not only am I eating pop-tarts washed down by coffee, I'm chewing on a 12-year prison sentence.  Instead of leaving a bitter taste in my mouth, it's like eating your vegetables.  Nobody really likes them, but you chew and shallow.  What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.  One day I will be a strong man. 

I kicked addiction's ass.  I kicked my demon's ass.  Sometimes I kick my own ass.  Today, I kick this pop-tart's ass.  I'm just an ass-kicking dude.  Come over here, I'll kick your ass too.  Nah...I'm just playin'.  The other day I kicked the MIDAS man's ass.  I won't ever get on that again.

Somewhere, along the line of all this 'ass-kicking' I learned to release emotion.  Not bottle it up.  That's the problem with today's society.  You let people walk all over you.  You smile like it's all good.  Then at night, you go cry on your pillow.  Ever seen a movie called "Falling Down"?  That's what happens when you swallow too much shit.  There's another phrase for that as well.  They say...."gone postal!"

Well, my pop-tart is gone.  now the rapper T.I. is telling me that I can have whatever I like.  And you can have whatever you like too.  Prison is a cage defined by tall fences.  Some people living life in the free world the same way.  Your walls are bills, probation, work, that MIDAS man in your life.  I remember.  Then I came to prison and my life changed.  I'm not gonna smile while you step on me, then go cry in my pillow.  Quite frankly, my dear..."I don't give a damn!"  Wishing the whole world would throw a middle finger in the air.

That's the caffeine and pop-tart talking.  I'm really a loveable kind of guy.  I adjust my mood as needed.  My new MP3 has my power anthems.  Right now D.M.X. is spitting, "Lord give me a sign."  Song says, "Give me a sign, show me what you want me to do, cause I'm gonna go through whatever you want me to."

God threw me a bone the other day.  I held a guitar in my hands for the first time in nearly six years.  Like riding a bike.  I still got it.  Smiled so big my face hurt.  Last time I saw a smile that big?  It was my sister opening a full furnished Caboodle on her birthday.  She was like 8 or 9.  I'm 33. 

Once again I'm getting high on life.  My life is not defined by the height of the fences surrounding me.  What's a fence anyway?  A man-made structure.  We do this shit to ourselves.  And we are the only ones who can change that.  Well....and God.

Was I wrong to say he threw me a bone?  I don't know, but I found peace in my life.  Guess if you don't like God throwing me a bone, perhaps the walls of your church have become fences.  We should all be careful of what we stand behind.

Did you see that map when you signed in?  That map started with just one star.  That star was my sister, Ester, from Alaska.  I want to thank you for the star YOU just put on that map.  Thank you for being a part of my life.  Can you throw a finger in the air too?  HA!HA!  Put some hooligan in your life!

Give Me One More Chance.

Last week I read about a man who writes for a blog from Death Row.  He made front page of the Jacksonville paper due to his blunt basking of the Florida prison system.  You go Mr. Death Row Poet.

He was given an interview in which he was asked, "Do you feel ready to be released?"

Since reading that article I have asked myself that same question a hundred times.  Over the past 3.5 years of my prison sentence I have many times thought about that day.

What is the American dream?  Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.  Is that still your dream?  Just prior to coming to prison, my life was anything but.  I was pursuing the other American dream...get high...stay high.

When I read the Death Row Poet's interview, I was taken by his response.  Today, for me, my life is a mission to better myself.  Even my blog is used to reach out.  Sometimes, it is just about a simple laugh.  Other times, I am serious and use my life experiences to make a point, but let's move on.  Let's move toward something.

My goal is no longer to get high.  Ask me!  Ask me if I'm ready to go home.  Ask me if I'm ready to be a man to my woman, a role model to my child, a big brother to my siblings.  My answer is YES!

Every day of my life is spent planning for that day.  Making sure that I'm ready.  Fixing my relationships, putting drugs and past addictions further behind me.  Replacing the bad people in my life with ones who love me for me, people who stand beside me, and see me as a changed man.  My support group.

Ask me if I'm ready to go home...I'll give you the opposite answer the Death Row Poet gave.  Then again, we are different in many ways.  From day one, the Judicious Jailbird has been used to spark change...To inspire you to think.  To not take life for granted. To enjoy your freedom.  To grab just one more kiss from your partner before you head out that door.  To remember to call your momma and tell her how much you love her.  To be a better parent.  To smile, laugh, be silly and be ALIVE!

I'm not writing to point fingers.  I do not blame my fuck-ups on anyone else.  I'm a full-grown man and I accept responsibility for my mistakes.  This is the only way you can then work through them and fix them...fix yourself!

So instead of being angry, pointing fingers at others, talking bad about the prison, or how it's ran...I speak bad about drugs, crime, and the real issues that brought me here.  At the end of the day, I brought me here.  My mission now is to get right so I can get me back out there.

Yeah, I'm ready to go.  I have my woman, my daughter, and a solid business plan.  My family knows that I love them.  I know where I'm going.  I know how to get there.  The people who doubted me, pulled me down, held me back...well, they were the first ones to go.  Some days I see these prison bars as a giant sifter.  These bars have sifted out the good and the bad...separated me from the good in me and the bad that tried to overtake me.  I came into prison and the bullshit stopped here.  The bad in my life slowly sifted away.  Now you meet the man who stands here today. 

The drugs are gone.  Bad people are gone.  The wrong woman is gone.  My old views are gone.  Yes, the bad in my life has been sifted out by the very bars meant to confine me.  Hold me down.  Lock me in.  Punish me.  The very bars that in the end...saved my life.

Today, I'm glad that I came here.  The judge saved my life in September of 2008 when he handed me a prison sentence.  I'm just happy that instead of ranting and raving about how prison sucks and I'm angry...I used this experience to better myself.  To change my life.  Today I put a whole new price tag on freedom.  People, it's priceless.  Until you've lost it, you can't see what its full value is....unless...

Unless I can paint you a picture you can appreciate.  A picture you can fully grasp.

So, did you go in for a second kiss lately?  Did you put a love note on the seat of your spouse's car?  Have you made plans to take your kids somewhere special this weekend?  Why don't you get on that.  You only live once...enjoy your freedom.  I am going to keep fighting to get mine back.

Forever Brothers

There are two kinds of people in this world:  Leaders and followers.  Many people navigate through life unseen.  Then you have the movers and the shakers - Special people who make a mark - People who light up a room as they enter.  …Possessing energy so strong they literally pull you in.

A year ago, I was transferred from one prison to the prison where I am currently housed.  Transfers suck.  On the bus ride, you see just enough of the free world that it hurts.  You miss your old life and being free.

You reach your destination and are assigned a bunk in a new dorm.  All eyes are on you, sizing you up as you settle into your new home.  You feel alone.

Then, after they have sized you up, someone will walk up and introduce himself.  Not long after I moved into Delta dorm, bunk 113-low, I met a man.  I had no idea who that man would become to me.  I couldn’t see all the hours we would spend together, laughing, crying, drinking coffee and talking about women.

I have tried to push this off as long as possible, but it is now time.  That man, over the course of this past year, became my best friend.  You know him as Scottie. 

I can see his bunk from where I sleep.  Scott goes to bed earlier than me, unless he has a good book to read.  He gets up earlier than me and has coffee.  After his coffee, he comes to my bunk and fucks with me.

He wakes me up by plugging my nose so I can’t breathe.  Other times he tickles my cheek with a q-tip until I think bugs are crawling on me.  He has ‘spooked’ me, put his ass in my face, put his balls by my face, and even shaved his pubes into my shampoo bottle.  This man knows I hate mornings and so he comes to mess with me nearly every day.  He has pissed me off so bad that he’s lucky I never beat his ass.  And bro, you know I would hand your ass to you….

Truth is I love you, man.  You have touched my life more than you will ever know.  You, my friend, are a shaker.  There is an energy coming off you that is incredible.

I lay in bed and watched you toss and turn last night.  We talk.  I know you’re going through it.  You have begun the transition.  This life is slowly fading and you are preparing for life out there.  I just leave you alone.  This part of the journey, you have to do by yourself.  This way freedom will mean even more to you.  When it comes, you will be ready.  The part that truly hurts me isn’t that you’re leaving here… No, the hurt comes from watching you try to save me.  You want to take me with you, but it’s not my time yet. 

Scott, you have a good heart.  You know how badly I want to reach out to our people – the lost, the down and out.  I’m gonna keep an eye on you.  Trust me when I say I will always be close by.  We are brothers always, not just behind this fence.  The J.J. project has given me a voice – a way to reach out.  You see what I do.  I’m asking you to continue to help me, Scott.  If I’m here reaching out, and you’re there doing the same… you see what I’m saying?  Forever brothers.

Reading this now, you find yourself a free man.  Breathe it all in, Scott.  Take nothing for granted.  But never forget Delta down and a small metal bunk.  A bunk that is empty today, the bunk you laid your head on.  The bunk where we laughed, played cards, drank coffee and hung out.  The bunk where you told jokes, captured an audience, and brought joy to a bunch of prisoners.

I have no doubts that you will continue to touch lives wherever life takes you.  Just don’t forget.  Don’t forget the path we walked.  The journey that made you the man you are today, tried by fire.

You did it brother.  Here’s to you, my dear friend.  You know how to reach me.  Always close by.

For both you and for myself, I ask you to remain a part of Jailbird.

If I may speak on behalf of all my friends, Hooligans around the world, continue to be part of our lives.  You are a part of this project… forever brothers.

I will now leave you with some sayings from this life, ones you remember all too well:

“Stand by for chow.”

“Rec. yard is open.”

“Mail-Call!”

“One time!”

“Shakedown!!!”

“It is what it is.”

“Nuts to butts.”

“Strip down.”    

“Spread them and cough.”