Can You Hear Me Now?

I think there was something in the weather. Or maybe something in the water. The radios were all screwed up this evening. Half of the people were mumbling (we've talked about this before!) and the other half were screaming.

Kermit was one good example. He's half deaf anyway. Most of the time he can't hear his radio and the rest of the time he just doesn't listen. He tends to wear his microphone down on his chest and mumbles into it then gets pissed off when nobody can hear him.

He was trying to get through the gate to do his Del Norte walk. I was out in the P-car and all I heard was: "71 to Raccoon Station, open gate 12 please!"

And I could just barely hear him at all. A minute or so later he tried it again:
"71 to Raccoon Station, open gate 12 please!"

Then all of the sudden Captain CJ got on the radio (sounding really pissed off) and said:

"11 TO RACCOON STATION, OPEN GATE 12!!!"

And that came through loud enough that it almost set off the airbag in the P-car. Very nearly scared the snit right out of me. And that would have messed up the upholstery pretty bad.

What we figured out was that Kermit must have had his radio on channel 3. That will broadcast in the clear to any handheld radios but doesn't get picked up well by the base station in the control center.

But it took him changing radios three times before he finally managed to get one to work. And I'm sure the blame will all go to the comm room officer who issued him that first radio.

Hey, it's the way we work here in the wonder State of Confusion.

Tomorrow is supposed to be hot hot hot again. I thought summer was over.

That's what I get for thinking, I suppose.

Thursday will be Emma M. Nutt Day. It will also be Building and Code Staff Appreciation Day, Calendar Adjustment Day, Chicken Boy's Day and National No Rhyme Nor Reason Day.

And there you go!

Emergency Preparedness

I remember back, years ago, the first time I ever set foot in the control center. I was nervous and I had questions. Since this was the nerve canter of the whole place I figured they had the answers.

"What do we do if there's a fire? An escape? An earthquake? A power outage?"

"The answers are all right there in the big red book."

"Oh. Can I read it?"

"NO!!! Do not touch the big red book!"

"But... why?"

"Because something bad will happen if you touch it! DON'T TOUCH THE BIG RED BOOK!!!"

"Okay! Jeez! Don't have a litter of kittens. I was just asking..."

Even back then I thought that was a little extreme. And definitely paranoid.

After all it was marked very clearly "Emergency Manual". It was bright red so it would stand out from all of the other books. And it was pretty humongous. Bigger than all of the rest of them. It must have the answers that I wanted. And they couldn't answer my questions, but they said it was all in that book that I wasn't allowed to touch.

I wasn't back up there for many more years. Until just recently, anyway.

This evening I was poking around in some of the other books and found one marked "3rd Shift- Important Stuff To Know." I picked that one up and flipped through it. It had alot of the basic procedures down in pretty simple formats. How to do outcounts and releases, death notices, count, etc. I found out there is alot of things on the computer that I need to learn how to do and don't have access for. Gonna have to fix that.

One page that talked about releasing an offender from the institution told about the checklists and who to notify and how to clear him from the computer, etc. At the bottom of the page in big letters, surrounded by asterisks it said:

***Offenders are not allowed to be released in state greys or naked!***

Really.

Well, there goes my plans for the weekend.

Did I really need to be told that? What the snap ever.

When I finished flipping through the book Stubby said "There's more stuff down there in the emergency book if you want to look at it. I don't care. Some scary stuff in there."

At some point in the intervening years the manual had gone from one humongous book to two completely ginormous books. Volumes 1 and 2. Each about eight inches thick.

So, daring fate to make something happen, I dragged them out and thumbed through the pages. Between the two of them they covered almost everything you could imagine happening except and alien attack and the coming zombie apocalypse. Fires. Power outages. Earthquakes. Terrorist attacks. Riots. Violent deaths. Evacuations. You name it and it was in there.

It was all phrased in the repetitive legalese that they write everything in and you had to look real close to actually make any sense of it at all. Lots and lots of redundancies Tons and tons of notification lists. Who to contact in case of this and that. Contact numbers for everyone from all of the CO's to E-Squad, the Major, the Warden to all of the utility companies, hospitals, railroad lines, local and state law enforcement, the local and state media, state representatives, DOC hierarchy all the way up to the Governor.

And I hope I never have to look at that thing again. At least not in any sort of official capacity. I would much rather be on the inside dealing with the nuts and bolts on the ground than up there trying to sort it all out.

And guess what? I not only touched the big red book I thumbed through the whole thing and nothing happened! Paranoid twits. Sheesh!

So Wednesday (Comm Calm Room) is going to be National Trail Mix Day as well as Love Litigating Lawyers Day.

I'm a much bigger fan of trail mix than lawyers. Let's just say I know which one leaves a better taste in my mouth if you know what I mean.

Dang. That just doesn't sound right.

I Got Cocky And....

Boy I should have known better. I called the prison on Sunday evening to check and make sure I hadn't been moved. When I left Friday I was scheduled to be 2-10 in 6 house. Not a bad gig. I would have had to do some work there, but I can do that. I'm not against work on moral grounds or anything. I just don't want to get too cozy with it, if you know what I mean.

But when I called Lt Baby Boy said "No, I need to put you in the Control Center. Come in at the regular time and work there."

Well, you know, I can do that.

Then I started thinking. Hey, it's a Monday. No transfers. Shouldn't be anything I can't handle going on. Maybe I'll ask Sgt Puddle if I can take the desk! I think I can handle doing that 4:30 count. As long as somebody is watching in case I need some help, I should be fine!

And the more I thought about it, the more I thought "Yeah! I can do this! It's not that hard. Yeah!"

So when Sgt Puddle got there and found out it was me and Big'un up there, I gave him a thumbs up and said "Hey. I got this!"

I was pumping myself up, you see. Psyching myself up. And not listening to that little voice in the back of my head like an angry chihuahua that was saying "Stimpy! You Eediot!"

What I wasn't really aware of is the exact timing that has to take place in order for the 4:30 count to clear smoothly. You get pre-counts from several places: laundry, both dining halls, medical and education. So that you have a good portion of the offenders already accounted for before you call for the housing unit counts. And if they don't come in on time you have a very small window to get your numbers in order.

It's like being an accountant for a firm that has 200 employees and 2500 hundred customers. Somebody dumps the ledgers on your desk and says "You have 30 minutes to make these books balance. Go!"

Oh snap.

One of my pre-counts got called in late and I made a small math error because I got in a hurry and somebody else made an error and I ended up off by two.

Now, in a big office with 200 employees and 2500 customers, being off by two is no big deal. They would just say "Hey, that's close enough. Good job!"

But in a prison being off by two is a big deal. A real big freaking deal. I started running through the numbers again and I couldn't find it. Sgt Puddle jumped in and started looking and he couldn't find it either. So we started..... Well, I started panicking a little. He was cool and calm about the whole thing. We called a few obvious trouble spots, like education and Main Production for recounts.

Luckily he caught my screw up and one of the dining halls called in a different number and apologized for the mistake. He'd sent a worker to medical and medical had sent him back and he didn't know about it. Count was only about five minutes later than normal.

But it cleared. I was ready to start gnawing the desk by that time and thinking "You fool! You can't even balance a checkbook! What do you think you are doing?"

I had bounced in there like Tigger and came back out again looking more like Eeyore with my tail dragging and barely nailed to my butt.

Sgt Puddle was there giving me encouragement. "I've seen much worse. And hey! Count cleared! We didn't have to do a total recount, so it's okay! You did good!" He made me feel better but I suspect that if he hadn't been there I would still be sitting up there right now trying to clear 4:30 count. I dunno.

And Miz Twang came up there later and did the same thing. Bless her little onion-like bits. She made me feel almost competent. And she did brighten up my day. Considerably. If I was, oh.. twenty years younger.... Ah, well.

I learned a few more things this evening. How to put outcounts into the computer. Or part of the process, anyway. It's complicated. And how to reset the Del Norte lights, which is ridiculously complicated for absolutely no reason. And how to reset a faulty fire alarm that kept going off and going off and going off......... Stupid fracking thing. Not at all complicated, but extremely annoying.

And I got a few more compliments on my radio voice which made me blush.

I guess I'll keep this up until I feel that I could run this thing with a fair amount of certainty. That way if something happens and we have another night when there isn't anybody to run the desk I can step up and say "I can do that."

But I have a feeling that's going to be a good ways down the road.

I'm supposed to be up there again tomorrow. Transfer day. But I'm not taking the desk. Nosiree Bob!

Tuesday is going to be National Toasted Marshmallow Day. Yum! S'mores! It will also be Eid-Al Fitr and National Holistic Pet Day.

(Mostly) Calm

It was my first time to work with Sgt Banty in the Control Center. In my mind, I still haven't made it up to him for bailing on him that one night. Or even admitted to him that's the reason I started going up there in the first place.

The night was fairly uneventful. A few things popped up on the side and I was more than happy to let Stubby handle them, as I didn't have a clue. I tended to my own knitting and kept up on practice count sheets and opened the doors and the gates and kept my eyes and ears open and picked up a few more tidbits here and there.

Made a few radio calls and behaved myself, though the urge to say something silly on the radio comes over me now and then. I like to play with voices now and then and some day I would love to call count as William Shatner or Popeye. But that would get me thrown out of there in a heartbeat so I'll behave myself.

What I try to do when I'm on the radio is drop my voice an octave and say things slowly and clearly. Kind of like one of those late night deejays on the radio. But occasionally something in my brain short circuits and I get a bad case of fumblemouth and I screw it up. Then once I let go of the radio key I smack myself in the forehead.

Ah, well.

Right before 10:00 count I made up my own count sheet and then compared it with Stubby's just to make sure I was doing it right and had the right numbers. Then i got to do the count over the radio but used his sheet because it looked neater than mine. They locked up two right before count and mine had scribble marks and erasures all over it. No big deal.

And I got a couple of calls during the night that said I sounded real good on the radio and I should consider bidding up there for six months or so. Thanks, but no. It's a nice change of pace for now and I'm glad to be able to help out and I want to learn it enough to help make count clear if they need someone in an emergency. But I would go nuts if I stayed up there all of the time. Just like being the bubble in a regular housing unit. I pace back and forth and get cranky and claustrophobic.

So..... No. Not right now, anyway.

Here's the weekend lineup: Saturday is Petroleum Day (keep a lid on it, okay?) and The Duchess Who Wasn't Day. You're on your own for that one!

Sunday is World Sauntering Day. Mosey on down! It's also Race Your Mouse Around The Icons Day, Radio Commercials Day and Crackers Over The Keyboard Day. (Hmmm...)

Monday will be More Herbs, Less Salt Day and According To Hoyle Day.

And there it is....

Here's Your Sign!

Tonight after the yards closed I was sitting outside the shack with Sgt Uncle T and we saw Sgt Major walking from 6 house all the way down to 30 house. I cruised off in the cart to give him a ride. First thing he looks at me and says "I hear you did a real boneheaded thing."

All I could do was nod. I knew what he meant. "Yeah, I did."

He kind of gives me this half smile and says "You'll make an excellent Sergeant."

"Man, I sure hope so, anyway."

After I ran him down to 30 house and back, all the while he is giving me Segeantly advice, he tells me to come down to the house when I can, as he has a story to tell me. So I get done what I need to get done and trot on down to the house later.

The offenders, just like us, have to get a TB test every year. If we don't take ours we get put on admin leave without pay until we get one. If the offender refuses he gets thrown in the Hive until he agrees to take one.

So one of the offenders from 6 house goes up to get a TB test done. Two days later, when he goes up to have it read, there's a brand new tattoo on his forearm covering the spot where he got his TB test. The nurse sees that and knows it wasn't there when he got the test so he gets a violation for tattooing on day shift.

Third shift comes on duty and hears about it and somebody goes to search his cell. Just because. And lo and behold, rolled up in a sock in a laundry bag with the guys name on it, is the tattoo gun. So he received a second violation.

Nine times out of ten, when someone gets a new tattoo, the gun gets immediately dismantled and stashed in different places so nobody gets caught with it. Sometimes they even just throw them away.

And this fool had four hours after he got busted with the new tat to get rid of the gun and apparently it never even crossed his mind.

Here's your sign!

That is why I never worry about losing my job through lack of customers. We will never run out of stupid people.

I am so ready for Friday. Scheduled to be up in the Control Center again with Sgt Banty and Stubby.

And what kind of day will it be? Let's check the Magic 8 Ball!

Friday is going to be National Cherry Popsicle Day. Okay, that's a good start. It will also be Daffodil Day, National Dog Day and Women's Equality Day.

Sounds like it might be a pretty good day.

Well, I Did It.....

I went ahead and put my name on the Sergeants register. I got an 86, which is a good enough score to get an interview, hopefully.

Now I have to get my stuff together and study up in case I get called for an interview board. I'll probably be so nervous I'll muff it. But if nothing else, it will be good practice.

Ran into the old Boss today. Not Peggy Sue, but the one after her. Told him I put myself on the register and he stopped and looked at me and said "Why the heck did you do that?" The only answer I could think of right off the bat was "I've seen some of the people who are talking about promoting. And I asked myself 'Do I want to work for that knucklehead?' And that's why I did it." He nodded and said "That's about the best answer I've ever heard! Good luck!"

So I need to get my uniforms up to date. Get my service stars sewn on. Find a tie. Or go buy a new one. Haven't worn my dang tie since the Academy and have no idea where it went. Didn't really care until today. Hate ties. Useless things. Pfui.

Fiddled around with that application, changing this and that. Almost got my dates messed up. Luckily I looked. Had an overlap of a month between two jobs and a gap between two others, like I had slipped off into limbo for a month. That would never have done. Couldn't remember the name of the Sergeant that was my supervisor at the other prison. I think I got it correct, but I had to guess. Only saw her one time in eight months there. She showed up after I had been there for six months and said "I'm your supervisor. I'm here to give you your six months rating. I haven't heard any complaints, so you get a 'Successful' rating." Then I never saw her again. Took me probably twenty minutes to remember her name. Sheesh.

Finally I got tired of dicking with it and went on and finished the thing. Sat there with my finger poised over the "Submit" button forever. Finally I called myself an idiot and sent the darn thing.

So that part's over with. I made the jump.

Now I just hope I can find the handle of the ripcord......

Tomorrow being Thursday, it's going to be Kiss-And-Make-Up Day and National Second-Hand Wardrobe Day. That should have been right after Thriftshop Day, don't you think?

Dang Gremlins......

I swear, them little sunzabeeotches were watching me. And they made something happen every time I wanted to sit down or started to get comfortable somewhere.

Pretty happy I didn't go to Control Center tonight. Stubby bid back up there in Miz Odds spot and tonight was his first night back up there in a few years. So he was probably a little rusty. And it was transfer day. Looked like maybe 15 or 20 of them rolled in on the bus right about 3:15 or so.

At least they got here early. What really screws us up is when they come rolling in at 4:00 or even 4:15, right before count time. That's when all the handles of hell snap off and count gets screwed up forever.

Or seemingly, anyway. I haven't been up there for it, so I don't know for sure. But it sounds painful.

Anyway, after the mail run, I went on out to the yard right before it closed then on down to the chow hall for count. It cleared pretty quick and things were going okay and we were shipping them in and out for chow.

Then I heard one of those "ASAP" calls that I always hate to hear. You never know for sure what is going on, if it will turn into something ugly or some kind of personal emergency or what. This one came form the new 30 house Sergeant, and he's a pretty level headed guy. He wanted the Lieutenant to call him ASAP. I moved away from the chow hall door and cleared away from anyone else in case I needed to run somewhere.'

And I was really hoping I didn't need to run anywhere.

Captain Skoal came out and grabbed me and told me to replace St Francis up on the hill watching the movements. he took St Francis on the cart and took off towards 30 house. A few minutes later I heard the call. "Code 70, 30 house!" Dang. Another one. Called Sgt Uncle T on the radio and told him I was going and headed off.

A Code 70 is a fire alarm, by the way. And since I'm on the fire brigade I had to go.

What it turned out to be was a broken sprinkler pipe. That set off the flow alarm and then the fire alarm. From the looks of it, some idiot jumped up and grabbed the pipe and tried to swing on it and it broke off, flooding the hallway.

They had most of the water contained and the main shut off by the time I got there. St Francis said he had it handled so I went back out to the yard right before it opened. Sausage was up in central doing pat searches so that just left me on the yard. At Sgt Uncle T's suggestion, I called 6 and 7 houses and had them send someone out when the yard opened for an extra set of eyes.

The yard opened at 6:00 and closed about 7:45 with no complications. Which was very cool. St Francis managed to stay 'busy' with the cleanup and his paperwork until dang near 9:30 when he moseyed back out again. In the meantime I had to go up to A-dining to observe the Ramadan service and Sgt Uncle T did the inner perimeter check.

Right about the time I thought I was finally going to get to eat my dinner there was another call. "Code 16, 9 house. Seizures!" Oh snap. Here we go again.

Rode down there on the cart and some wobblehead had fallen on the back of his head on the concrete and given himself a pretty good goose egg. Captain Skoal said he wanted pictures of it so Sausage had to go get the camera and meet us at medical. I got to ride up on the medical cart behind the wobblehead and he smelled really bad. Like, hadn't showered in a week or so bad. My eyes were watering by the time we git him there and I was more than happy to go someplace else.

It wasn't anything big. It was just a bunch of little things that all added up to me being on my feet most of the night and not getting to eat my dinner until about 9:00 pm.

All I can say is I didn't break anything, none of us got hurt and nobody escaped.

And I'm glad that day is over.

Wednesday (comm room!) is going to be Knife Day. Ooooh. That's not cool at all. It will also be Pluto Demoted Day, Vesuvius Day and Waffle Day.

I think I'll pick the waffles.