Chilly Inside And Out

I knew there was a reason that I really wanted to call in today. It wasn't one of those major "oh snap" feelings, it was just a nagging suspicion in the back of my mind that made me think I really didn't want to show up for work.

But I showed up anyway. I'm a fool like that.

They had me scheduled for 2 house, which is the calmest house on the camp. I'm still not real used to calm. I tend to fidget.

I was supposed to be there with Biggest B and some noob.

Unfortunately eight or ten other people had the same feeling I had earlier and they acted on it, so we were real short. They held over a handful of day shift people to make up for our lack of staff. Little B said they were pulling the noob out to the yard and send us Ms Frost fro day shift.

When Biggest B heard that he said "Oh f*ck that. I'm feeling sick. I'm going home." I told him if he left me alone with her I'd break his other arm. He decided to stay. He knew I wouldn't break his arm anyway.

Hell, Biggest B retires at the end of next month after 26 years with the department. Someone who is either that dedicated or that insane or both deserves my respect.

It wasn't as bad as we thought it might be. She was pretty tired and didn't really know us or the shift or the house and spent a good part of her time on the phone with her hubby, who was staying over somewhere else.

Biggest and I spent a good part of the night telling bad jokes and reminiscing about people who used to work here.

And, as usual, nothing at all happened in 2 house.

I guess that's not a bad way to end my week.

Tomorrow is National Candy Corn Day. I'll be accepting donations.

Surely He Didn't Say That!

Weird weird weird sh*t going on. Strangeness and foreboding. Odd rumors.

I have doubts about what to believe. Imagine that.

Remember when I wrote about the inmate who almost rehabilitated himself the other day? The one who I suspected was a drug mule with leaky balloons?

It turns out that he had been sucking on a Fentanyl patch. One of those that is supposed to go on your skin. If he was french, I would call him Dumas. But he aint french.

Today there were two more OD's over on B-side. And apparently one of them turned into a 10-5. I have read that there are cases of reported aggression associated with Fentanyl.

Now we have another case to report.

At first we figured that it was coming from the laundry or visiting, because that's where most of the drugs tend to come from.

But it was whispered to me that the stuff was stolen from......

Ummmmm..... maybe I don't want to go there after all.

I really don't want to get sued.

I'm just wondering. Why was it there at all?

I was also told that there was a total of 20 of those patches loose inside the fence somewhere. They would be viciously easy to hide almost anywhere. The chances of finding them are slim to none.

I sure hope we don't have to have 17 more OD's before we are sure they are all gone.

Rumor has it that the inmates are tearing small pieces off and steeping them in hot water and drinking it like tea. Holy snap.

One more ugly rumor then I'll let it go.

Our Warden is retiring at the end of the month. I have heard no rumors about who is replacing him. I'm not holding my breath hoping for someone better.

What I was told was that he was approached by the Acting Major about what to do about these 17 still to be found patches. Reportedly he said "I don't care. It's my last day."

I really really hope he didn't say that. I would be severely disappointed in him.

On that note I am going to crawl back into my hidey hole and tell you that tomorrow is Hermit Day. If I don't come outside tomorrow, you'll know why. You kids get off my lawn!

Diggin' The Oldies

Tonight I was out in the P-car again. As is usual on Wednesday night. Boring, but not confusing.

Yeah, I can do that.

In two hours I checked two zones and drove about eighteen miles. Mostly I stayed about eight or nine miles an hour but once I got up to almost 20.

Wow.

So there I was, driving around in the car eating candy orange slices and listening to the Greg Kihn show on the radio. He was playing some good old rock, like he always does. I was digging it and it was helping me stay alert, which is good. It's easy to get bored and sleepy out there on the calm nights.

Of course, at one point he played "Jailbreak" by Thin Lizzy. One of my faves but the one I want to hear the least while I'm driving around the outside of a prison with a shotgun, if you know what I mean. As soon as I heard those opening chords I got a chill and said "Oh snap!"

Sgt Uncle T and I are close to the same age (but I'm a bit younger and way cuter, just in case you were wondering) and we like the same era of music. And Goosey isn't far behind, so he is able to keep up with us.

Except one evening I mentioned the song "The Troglodyte" by The Jimmy Castor Bunch and neither one of them remembered it. That song was one of my favorites from way back when.

So I looked around You tube and found the video. Way back before anybody was really making music videos, they made this one. You can see it here: The troglodyte. Check it out!

I have had so much fun looking up old and weird stuff on You tube that I get lost in there for half a day sometimes.

Now if I could just get somebody to pay me for that......

And tomorrow we have a twofer! It is both Plush Animal Lovers Day and National Chocolate Day! Let's not get confused and have alot of plush chocolate animals made up. That would be a friggin' mess!

Odd Movements

As of the weekend, we have been on the winter schedule for movements. For those of you who don't work here, let me explain a moment. Those of you who know what I'm talking about, just skip the next couple of paragraphs. Bear with me.

In the spring and summer, while the daylight lasts longer, the offenders get open yards in the evening. That means that while the yards are open they can come and go as they wish. They can go to the gym or the library or out on the yard or down to the chapel and they can wander about as they wish. Until it gets dark enough and the Sarge closes the yards. Then they have to go back inside their housing units.

It's a little different in fall and winter. In the evenings there are no open yards and we have what are called "controlled movements". Once an hour. They usually only get a couple of those a night. When chow is over and we are ready for movement, usually at or around 6:00 pm, the control center calls a five minute recreation movement. That means that during the next five minutes, anybody who wants to go to the gym can go there. This movement is for the gym and nowhere else.

After all of the offenders are in the gym and the yard is clear, they call a secondary movement. Also five minutes long. During secondary is when they can go to the chapel or the library or to work, wherever that is. You cannot go to they gym during the secondary movement.

The first week or so of this is always a little screwed up. They neglect to tell the offenders that the first movement is for rec only so we have guys trying to go to work or to the chapel at that time. They either get sent back to the house or stuck in the gym. Some people just don't care and send everybody out on the rec movement. It gets to be a cluster frack.

And for those of us who are somewhat new to this whole controlled movement thing it's a little confusing as well. Being down in the Hive since Adam was a lad, I never really had to deal with such nonsense. I got inmates when they sent them to me and I released them when i was told to. The rest of the camp was like another world.

So anyway I'm out on A-yard tonight. Just a little lost. Trying to get a grip on the whole movement deal and how different A-side is from B-side. Sgt Buck is growling because things are screwed up, as usual, and he has a couple of officers (like me) who aint got a grip on it.

And I have to take a moment right now and apologize to Miz Archer. Yes dear, I was on A-side and I didn't come down to visit. I am sorry. But in truth I was so lost and trying to keep Buck from skinning me alive that it just slipped my mind. Captain Jabba was out on A-side riding Buck over something stupid and the bad mood was rolling downhill.

And guess who was at the bottom of the hill? Yup, it was me.

I am sorry, luv. I didn't mean it.

So anyway I let a couple of the inmates walk past me during the rec movement. Buck goes flying down there on the cart and asks them where they're going. To the chapel.

"Oh hell no, you aint!" he roars, making me flinch. "You're going to the gym! That's the only place you can go, so get to the gym!"

"Can we go back to the house?"

"No, dammit! Get to the dang gym now and I don't want to hear any more lip!"

Oh snap. Then Buck drives up on the cart and starts giving me the hairy eyeball. What could I say or do? I just said "Yup, I did it. I let them by. It won't happen again."

I got the hang of it a little and spent most of the night trying to be useful and invisible at the same time. And if you don't think that's bloody difficult, just try it some time.

On the whole, I didn't screw anything up any worse than anybody else did, so once again I guess I can count this night as a success in the ledger books.

Tomorrow, which by the way is Sylvia Plath Day (She was a Pulitzer Prize winning poet), I will be back in the com room on familiar ground once again.

Thank freaking goodness for that. At least there I know what to do, for the most part.

Until something changes.

Context.... Who Needs it?

Today class, we will be discussing the word context and it's meaning. According to the dictionary, the word context means:

Definition of CONTEXT

1: the parts of a discourse that surround a word or passage and can throw light on its meaning

2: the interrelated conditions in which something exists or occurs .

When (by the way, this is me now, and no longer the dictionary).... When you take something in context, you are getting the whole picture. You understand fully what you are seeing or hearing or otherwise experiencing.

When you take something out of context, however, it's a whole new ball game. Then, anything goes.

And when you put what you are experiencing in the context of being in a prison...... well, the whole thing just tends to get skewed all over the place.

Here's a good example of something being in context. During shift tonight we were directed to search one of the buildings. We picked out the one building that I had never been into as of yet. They call it the Mattress Factory. But they make more than mattresses in there. I wonder why they don't call it the Mattress And Other Things Factory.

Okay, never mind.

So in the Mattress Factory the inmates all have little stations that they work at. Usually in front of a big industrial sewing machine. And almost every single one of them has devised some sort of pouch or pocket sewn out of scraps and hung on the front of their station to keep pens and pencils and personal items in. We went through and searched the whole building (what we had the keys for, anyway) and one of the things we did was turn out all those little pockets to see what was in them.

For the most part, it was nothing. Like I said, pens and pencils. Little containers of instant coffee and sugar and creamer. Maybe a lighter and small bag of tobacco. No real contraband to speak of, just stuff.

Then there was this one pouch. It held a handful of notes and other things folded together. I flipped through them just to make sure they contained no escape plans or anything and my eyes fell on a note that said:

"My penis is engorged & all the blood has rushed from my head. I'm lightheaded & feel I will not be able to unload the truck."

And it was signed at the bottom with a little smiley face.

Obviously the context of this being that this inmate is a smarta** who thinks he's cute. I'd like to solve that little "engorgement" problem for him permanently. I'm positive that making the thing much much smaller will settle that problem once and for all.

Anyway.

Here's a couple examples of being out of context. While doing the B-yard inner perimeter check (which we do twice a night) I was walking by some open windows in one of the housing units and overheard the following statement:

"What the f**k? Yours is made of wood! Mine isn't this comfortable to sit on..."

I just had to stop dead in my tracks and ponder that one for a moment. Then I realized that he was probably talking about another inmate's footlocker. At least I'm hoping he was. But for a few seconds my mind was somewhere else completely....

And my second example took place not an hour later. Another one of those wonderful "Open mike" moments. Those are always precious. Somebody's mike clicked open and we could hear two voices. The first one said:
"What are you saying? We can put good sh*t in there?"

To which the second voice replied:
"Fu*kin' right!"

And of course, taken out of context.... Well, you draw your own conclusions. But I felt for a moment like I had picked up an old "Cheech and Chong" movie over my radio.

So you can clearly see that context is very important in understand what is happening around you. Context helps you understand your surroundings and the input you are receiving.

But it's nowhere near as fun as being out of context and letting your imagination run wild.

Class dismissed!

Oh! One more thing before you go! Tomorrow is Mule Day! Let's not make asses of ourselves out there, people!

Like Herding Cats

They sent me to B-dining today. Holy crap what a goat rope!

It was just me and another utility officer there so the workers ran amok and basically got away with just less than murder.

Neither one of us really had a handle on how to run the place so things got pretty screwed up. Not bad enough that anybody escaped or got hurt or even bad enough that we had to do paperwork, but it got pretty screwed up.

Half of the crew is screw-ups and the other half is prima donnas. What a mess.

But I have a plan for those slick punks the next time I go down there.

I now know who works and who just screws off when they think they can get away with it. So the next time I go down there I'm going to pick out one or two of the slackers and nail them hard, either with just violations or maybe locking a couple of them up right off the bat.

That will accomplish two things. One: The rest of them will know I mean business. And Two: The slackers will be somebody else's problem for awhile.

Sorry, Drew!

We should have been done by seven o'clock at the latest. But stuff got so messed up I was there until almost eight.

Snap on that business!

So tomorrow is National Mole Day. The list doesn't specify if they are moles on your skin or moles in your yard. Might want to go ahead and have a quiet festival for both, just to be on the safe side.

Gift Box!!!

I got a box of stuff from my sister in Oregon today. It was for my birthday.

Just a little late, but I didn't mind one bit.

And I'm not saying when it was or how old I am, so don't ask.

But here's a list of what was in it:

A. A hat that looks like a brain. Obviously a "thinking cap". It's about time I got one of those. I promise I'll put it to good use. Now if I just had a place to hang it up.... (grin)

B. What looks like a garden gnome holding a shotgun. He'll go up over my office door for protection.

C. A large fly with wheels. Everybody needs one of those, right?

D. A little skeletonized soldier with a parachute. Remember those from when you were a kid? I lost more of those things on windy days..... he's going up on the wall.

E. Fifteen glow in the dark bracelets. I'm sure I'll find a good use for them when the time is right.

F. Hand Blasters. Haven't tried them out yet, but it looks like we might have another fun thing to do in the dark. Hey, honey?.......

G. Another dragon! Yay! I do love dragons. I think this makes number 15 or 16 for my collection. Boo-wah!

H. Zombie Mints. It says on the tin "brain flavored". I'm in the process of working up my nerve.

I. A wind-up ear. It walks across the table or floor. Just in case you need to lend it to someone...

J. One very cool skull with a flame paint job. That sucker is going right next to the Maltese Falcon!

K. Okay, I know what that looks like, but you're wrong. It's actually a pen that looks like a finger. And when you pull it, it makes a fart noise. Pull my finger! Whoop!

L & M. Not like the cigarettes. These two are those trendy little rubber bracelets. But instead of promoting peace or breast cancer awareness or some churchy saying, these are two of the seven deadly sins collection. Sloth and Envy. Man, I'd really want those if they weren't so far away....

N. One package of Slugworths Gummy Slugs! I guess you wouldn't eat them with salt.....

O. One gummy roadkill skunk. You just don't see those every day!

And finally, item P. One jar of bacon salt. Because, as it says right on the jar "everything should taste like bacon!"

I don't think I could have put together a better package myself if I had tried. And you just can't get that kind of stuff around here! I feel like I'm on another planet, sometimes.

Anyway, I just thought I'd show you exactly how cool my sister is. She treats me well and keeps me supplied with the right amount of imported insanity that keeps me ticking along and not chewing my own foot off in frustration.

Thanks, sis! You rock!