here is the end…the end my fiends

May 21st, 2011 at around 11a pacific, my family and I stepped off an international flight into the Sea-Tac airport with our new daughter, a beautiful little girl, in tow; we were happy and exhausted.  I walked out of the airport to a helicopter in which I was taken to an aircraft carrier; I put on my flight suit and gave a press conference to brag about my latest conquest in front of a ridiculously large banner, “Mission Accomplished”  its gospel.  A great end to a moving story…draw a tear from a glass eye.  Problem: going to China to adopt a little girl wasn’t and isn’t my mission…it isn’t even a means to an end; it is a part of a dynamic story that I am charged with living out, this is what I have learned, this is what I continue to learn.

It is strange, the way I segment…

View original post 818 more words

what!? already?! Answer: Yes!

There exists, in any occupation, the propensity to become lazy, to have one’s passion for a particular profession diminish over time. This is true of jail house guards as much as it is true of janitors. I had made mention in a previous post of the idea that 2/3 of the guards employed by Kitsap County didn’t want to be there, implying that the other half (not great with fractions) did want to be there. I arrived at this number purely through a subjective observation of the behavior I witnessed while serving my time. The number is not as important as the message that not everyone who was in charge of keeping the peace in the jail was interested in keeping the peace in the jail; this became problematic one Thursday morning at lunch (note: we took our lunch in the morning).

There was this kid in our block who…

View original post 885 more words

After an afternoon of writing controversial 9/11 tweets, I like to unwind by reblogging posts

Captain, Road Prison 36: You gonna get used to wearin’ them chains afer a while, Luke. Don’t you never stop listenin’ to them clinking. ‘Cause they gonna remind you of what I been saying. For your own good.
Luke: Wish you’d stop bein’ so good to me, cap’n.

Thursday night, the night when I was hanging out with the boys, the night before I turned myself in, the fellas asked me how I would handle myself in jail…would I be passive, or aggressive. How would I carry myself? I was sure of this answer; “Like Cool Hand Luke,” I said.(If you’ve yet to see the film; really, what are you waiting for?)  I walk in I keep my head down, I do my time, be as passive as can be, without allowing myself to be vulnerable…real cool.  So you can imagine my surprise when I walked into the…

View original post 904 more words

Laziness does pay…sometimes

When last we left our hero, he was being wheeled into an over-sized lemur cage on a hand-truck in a straight jacket with a leather mask placed over his face, to protect those with-in striking distance.  One problem exists with this lead in; I’m way ahead of myself.  I described my first hours in the belly of the K.C. B&B, but please allow me to digress a bit.

Wednesday I was sentenced, Friday morning I turned myself in, But between those days (in usual fashion) was Thursday, and Thursday night my friends and I meet for what we’ve named, guy’s night (mainly because there are only guys there).  My friends knew that I was going to be put away for a few days (10 if all went well) and that I was essentially spending my last hours of freedom with them, so they determined that I should be allowed to…

View original post 829 more words