‘Unlikely Friends’

Monday, May 18, 2015

Throughout the months of March and April, I was experiencing a significant amount of disdain for the people I lived around. The particular hut that I lived in was no longer seen as an ‘Honor Inmate’ location and therefore, was used to house anyone. I became acutely aware of the fact that almost everyone around me was smoking the synthetic drug ‘spice’. If they weren’t smoking it, they were friends with others who were.

Spice is an epidemic in prison and I am sure it is outside these walls as well. I am not going to elaborate on drugs in prison because. I assume that my readers are intelligent enough to realize that drugs are a problem here. The unfortunate thing about spice is that it is impossible to test for it in here. It literally makes people act insane and frequently, they simply fall out and stop breathing. All in all, these are not good things – and living around people that partake – was really not a wonderful experience. The ‘Spice Heads’ (as I call them) combined with the drama from work and being on call 24/7, caused me to reevaluate my situation.

I drew the conclusion that I needed to move across the street to Yard 2 and live around individuals that I have not only known for many years (at various prisons), but also, knew that there would be no drama, no spice and a certain amount of camaraderie. This is a much better situation except for one detail. The individuals I live with now are skin heads. When you take that into account, someone like me should not – in any way – be accepted as a friend, or into their fold. I pretty much stand for everything they don’t and you would think that it would be the basis for a big, big problem. Oddly however, it has never been an issue and believe me when I say, that these are not new friendships in the making. I have been friends with a few of them for over 12 years now.

I have debated for awhile on whether or not I should write about this particular subject because I do not want to come across as a total hypocrite to my own people. I also do not want to appear to be a supporter of skin head nation. What I do want to do is to open peoples eyes. We all have different beliefs and ways of life. We all judge and have our limits. Many of us believe we are ‘right' and that others are ‘wrong’. Sometimes, we have no sensible explanation for things and when people ask me how I could possibly be ‘friends’ with these guys, or why I think that they are friends with me, I give the reasons as I see them. Unfortunately, they have never experienced the same things I have and cannot understand what I speak of. For you reading this, I will try to break down the reasons and maybe, just maybe, you will understand why we have come to a place where we accept one another.

Before coming to the North Unit in Florence, I was always unlucky to have been housed in some of the most violent prisons in the state. 95% of the time, I was the only homosexual accepted because of how I carried myself. Also, I have always straddled the proverbial racial fence because of my mixed heritage, of how I speak and behave. My overall prison demeanor has always pretty much been testosterone storming, masculine, and very “take no prisoner” in disposition. Tough characters relate to one another. 

In addition, when you go to war with someone, or in our case a riot – you learn a lot about people in their most vulnerable form. A couple of these guys I am living with now have literally pulled me out of harm’s way because they respect my character. They have fought for me and stood up for me at times when I was unable to do so for myself. That is really the only explanation that I have and all I can hope, is that somehow you can understand how this very unlikely group of friends has developed.

I moved to Yard II on the 21^st of April and decided I would rather be at peace, around people I knew and trusted then to stay and deal with the nonsense of where I was.

Since relocating, I have been able to hear myself think. I am not bothered by a bunch of immature inmate shenanigans and a huge bonus here: nobody smokes spice. There are only 200 men living on this particular yard so I have a small circle of friends. Really – that’s all I need.

My new mailing address:

David R McKinney

#169947 YD II - 4E 16

ASPC Florence – North

PO Box 8000

Florence, AZ 85132-8000

‘The Cuckoo’s Nest’

Monday, July 22, 2014

It may, or may not, be a surprise to learn that 90% of the prison population here is medicated in some way. Some inmates self-medicate with homemade alcohol: ‘hooch’ or ‘pruno’. Others smoke anything they can get their hands on: crack, meth, PCP, marijuana and spice are all quite popular. The “snorters” use various psychotropic medications: cocaine, bath salts, and if all else fails, I have seen some crush up simple Ibuprofen in hopes of generating a placebo. I have no idea if it really works, but they do it none the less. Whatever the case may be, it is odd, slightly comical and yes, frightening all at the same time.

The population that is medicated via the inmate pharmacy are obvious. Guys walk around doing the “Thorazin Shuffle” or the “Haldol Bend”. Unfortunately, a lot of these guys do not get the appropriate mental health care that they need. They are medicated as a way of keeping control and balance within the population. The psych. Medication pill line is forever growing longer here because very few inmates are authorized to keep their medication on their person. Because of that, the line outside medical resembles that of a Black Friday Sale.

I expect that some of you reading this are wondering if I am on any medication. Really it is something that I do not speak of often, but I figure I may as well come out with it. I am in fact, prescribed Zoloft and Abilify. I have had OCD character traits all of my life but combining those with the environmental depression associated with incarceration, was much too difficult to manage. I began a series of psychoanalytical session and conferred with my mom at length before deciding to go on any medication. The upside is that I am authorized to keep my medications with me so I do not have to brave the dreaded pill call lines. In addition to the psych medications, I am also prescribed Excedrin w/ caffeine (migraines) and Singulair and Flonase (allergies). 

There are not many people who are even aware that I take medication. You would never know by meeting me or having a conversation with me. At the same time, I have never believed that it was anyone’s business, but my own. A part of me wishes that I did not have to take these drugs, and in the future, perhaps I will not. That is a hill I will have to climb once this experience is in the rear view mirror. 

Murder is Bad; "Are we at a time where we actually have to remind people of this fact?"

Monday, November 19, 2012

Murder is Bad.

I was on the phone with Joe yesterday and he told me about a large billboard in Boston that had a photo of a young girl on it. Above her, were the words “Murder is Bad”. I have not been able to stop thinking about that. I mean; Are we at a time where we actually have to remind people of this fact? If we are, then why?

As I came across the yard toward the dorm from the phone, I looked around. Guys were dealing drugs (mostly spice), plotting their next assault, or shooting up heroin. I wondered if maybe I should go up to them and tell them that what they were doing is ‘bad’. Would it even make a difference? Most likely they would look at me as if I had shot their dog and then wonder why I would ever say such a thing. I really don’t believe that the greater majority of men here got the memo that the things they are doing, are not good. Unfortunately most of them don’t care.

Once I was inside and settled into my dorm, John looked over and could see that I was lost in deep thought. I shared my thoughts with him. He understood everything that I had said, and then reminded me that behaviors like that, are why we treat everyone here on the defensive. That statement alone segued us onto another topic and it was also intriguing.

The overall gist of the conversation was simple; in here, we (John & I) believe that everyone has an angle and are constantly trying to get over on one another. The word TRUST is not in the inmate handbook. It never will be. So because of that, I have to always be stern and somewhat aggressive with the people I associate with in here. That, is not who I am at all. But it is how I must be so that people do not take advantage of me. The reasons I gravitate toward spending all my time with John, on the phone, writing letters, blogging, or at visit - is simply because I can relax and just be “me" when I am engaged in those activities. This may sound completely unbelievable but I never realized that, until John pointed it out. Those activities are another way for me to hold onto my humanity and remind myself that I am an actual person.

John proceeded to give me examples of how I interact with others in here:

o   When I am walking on the yard, a lot of men will try to talk to me for any number of reasons. They will call my name and I will refuse to make eye contact. Instead, I will say “If you need me, than walk and talk. I’m not stopping.”

o   When I am sitting at my cubicle, men will come over to my run and try to ask for certain things. I will immediately say “NO” before they even finish asking their question.

These examples tell me that"

1. I did get the memo that "Murder is Bad"
2. I know what people are capable of - and
3. I do not go through life with blinders on and trust everyone that makes my acquaintance.

 The crazy part is that I never realized these things until after coming to prison.

Traitor; "homosexuals in prison, for whatever reason, take on a female persona.."

Thursday, October 4, 2012

I have continued to think about things that I have said with regard to other homosexuals in prison. Emotionally, I feel as if I have become a traitor to my own people and so, I feel as if it warrants some further explanation. First though, I need to paint a portrait of the homosexuals we are talking about.

The greater majority of male homosexuals in prison, for whatever reason, take on a female persona. They do not live as females on the street, and yet they do in prison. I have yet to figure out exactly why that is. I simply accept it. Over the years, I have known many in the prison system and they are all unique in their own way. The problem is that they totally become transfixed by penises.  I can’t honestly say I blame them. There are penises everywhere. We are naked so much that it is a very normal sight.

So the homosexuals who come to prison, and take on a female identity, usually choose to be called by a feminine ‘handle’ or name. I will give a brief rundown of the ones that matter. Mind you, some have become quite infamous along the way.

Dee

Dee is an overweight Native American whom I befriended in county Jail. We began our time together in maximum security and ironically, were transferred to a medium custody yard together. On the bus ride, we were shackled together. Dee explained to me that she was going to affiliate with the Mexican Americans, instead of the Native Americans because she liked Mexican men. I warned her that it would be risky, but she did it anyway.  We were only on the yard for four hours before she was assaulted by the Native Americans. I watched in horror, but was thankful that it wasn’t me. I know how badly that sounds, but again, one must survive.

Coco

Coco is a bi-racial man who had long hair, a gold tooth and wore clothing so tight, you would have an easier time putting toothpaste back into the tube. Coco was all about business, He had an actual menu for sexual favors:

Blow Job             4 honey buns
Hand Job            2 honey buns
Kissing                 Cup of coffee
Sex                       $10.00 of store credit

The most amazing part, was that Coco’s locker was always overflowing with food and he was always working.

Gigi

Gigi was a frail, dark chocolate man with a lazy eye. Word on the yard was that Gigi gave the best blowjob in the state. The problem was, Gigi was a heroin addict and guys would have to pay him with drugs for his service, If Gigi was high before the oral sex began, you were taking a chance that he would nod off, or pass out during the process. It actually made many guys angry and they wanted their money back.

Vicki

Vicki was a tall white man that had a penchant for black guys. In prison, having sex with a person of another race is strictly taboo. Vicki however, took every opportunity available. He would go into someone’s cell to “play a game of chess”. Funny thing was, the game was usually over in about 4 minutes. When Vicki would exit the cell, there would always be a huge, cheesy grin on his face. Vicki and I did not get along because he wanted to be called Jason, but the name Vicki had already stuck and I always called him that.

Kay

“Ms. Kay”, as I call her, is probably one of the most sought after homosexuals in the system. He is a beautiful man and an even more beautiful woman. He wore fitted clothes, make up and permed long hair. He also had an ass that spoke to the men. We are actually friends because Kay happens to know how to do time. He doesn’t sleep around, but rather, prefers to be in relationships. He can fight amazingly well and doesn’t play games.

Chris

Chris is a 52 year old ex drag queen from San Francisco. He and I became instant friends and have remained that way. He has been in prison for 23 years and knows everything there is to know about doing time. I have a tremendous amount of love for him and hope to see him again soon.

Certain homosexuals like Vicki, Coco and Gigi, cause huge amounts of drama on the yard and between the races. It is because of that, that inmates at the more aggressive yards in the state will not allow them to be housed there.  The yard that I am currently on, is one of those yards. The administration though, will try to house anyone here. (why wouldn’t they?) It is not their fault because everyone should be allowed to live here. It is our fault, the inmates. We are the ones telling them to leave and they cannot stay. It breaks my heart when I see this, because there was a time when I was being told to ‘leave’. (I will explain later, but it is true.)

There are exceptions. Certain homosexuals are allowed to stay if an inmate who has served over 10 consecutive years, or is an OG (old gangster) vouches for and takes responsibility for them. I have been on this yard for almost a year now and have yet to see someone stand up and vouch for a homosexual who was brought here.

Because of who I am, and the respect that I have earned, I can voucher, but I do not . And that makes me a ‘traitor’ in a way. (I could only imagine myself vouching for Chris or Kay should they show up. ) But again, I must survive here. If I vouch for one, and they cause a problem, then I am the one responsible. The end result, would not be good for me. Not good at all.