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Better circumstance...

Things have improved for me here. Now Mon. through Friday I go to work at the storehouse. Trucks back into the loading dock and I push a pallet jack around. The walk around with a clipboard taking inventory and filling orders. Near the end of the week things slow down and I have some idle time. I use this time to reflect. I have less than a year to go, possibly six months. That is if I make parole. I don't anticipate any problems. But as there is 'no such thing as a sure thing' I'll just be on my best behaviour.

I paid two packs of cigs to have my cell painted a few days ago. Itís finally dry! Paint dries slower in these dog days of summer, it seems. Next I will wax the floor in my small cell. Iíd like to do it before my new cellmate arrives. Almost three weeks now since my old cellmate moved out. Iíve had the place to myself a while and have gotten used to it. Itís nice being able to fart without the risk of embarrassment.

Still reading voraciously, mostly non-fiction.

Received my walkman in the mail a few days ago from the prison catalogue. Iíve been borrowing tapes until I can get my own. I paid a pack to have a little bag made so I can wear my walkman around my neck. Very nice workmanship. Sewn by hand, very sturdy!

Been spending time thinking about going back to work when I get out of prison. Iím putting together a new resume. I plan on mailing out 100 or so to as many venues as possible.

For many years Iíd worked in nightclubs and concert halls. As well as various production companies as a audio lighting technician. Perhaps I can land a position as a production assistant somewhere. I feel itís important to get a job you enjoy if possible, as being happy in your work will make work more productive. I can cook in a restaurant if I canít get that. I enjoy that too!

In fact, Iíll enjoy everything after I get out of here!

Stimulation, variety, long walks, anything other than this routine. Waiting on letters that never come.

Bland diet - clean sheets, daily shower. These awful stiff green uniforms. Clunky boots - No women.


Iím now realizing that I was loved... I was/am a fool - to let her go..let them them away, ignore away..a fool. When I get out of here there will be no one waiting...sure, my mom: she loves me and thatís good. But she canít fill the hole in this heart. To start over seems daunting.

I shouldnít be so hard on myself really. Iím just human, I know. At times surely we all have sometimes Ďhamster in a wheelí thoughts, Ďgoing nowhereí, Ďuselessí etc.

So I gotta keep repeating, like a mantra ĎThings are going to get betterí, ĎAll is not lostí, ĎIíll find love againí...eventually

8 August 2003

Good cop, bad cop

Correction officers are people too. Some of them abuse what little authority has been entrusted to them. Just like can be expected of any human. They have disagreements with each other. I saw a lot of this on Rikerís Island.

They arrested an officer for opening letters addressed to inmates and stealing money. The postal police came and took him away in handcuffs.

A female officer having sex with multiple (!) prisoners.

Recently there was a story in the paper about an officer having sex with an inmateís girlfriend in exchange to turn a blind eye and allow heroin to be passed in.

Iím sure this has been going on for centuries. And is nothing new.

No doubt it will continue for centuries more. Some people just have good hearts.

The other day an officer cocked his shotgun as we walked by - very funny.

The officer escorting us called him an asshole - funnier.

The next day even more words were exchanged. I found myself feeling uncomfortable with all this. Best not to say more...

Once again, for those of you who have been reading my column, I will answer any and all letters as I donít have access to a computer. I am forced to use the tested and true, envelopes and stamps. It will be my pleasure.

[Bobby passed away on sept 22 2006]

Until next time,
take care of yourselves and each other

Check out Bob's other columns

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