I desperately need some good news in my life.

Thursday, September 13, 2012

It’s another early morning here in my temporary home. I spent the better part of yesterday writing to family and friends. I also received a new Pen Pal message from a man in New Delhi, India who sounded interesting, and so I responded to him.

Mr. X, my supervisor, had administrative meetings and so I was certain that I had the day off. Just as I was preparing to go and work out, I was paged to the office though and spent the afternoon/early evening at work. Ugh.

My best friend, Jonathon, is sick; some sort of viral thing I am sure. I will contract it at some point. Still, I have been taking care of him as best as I can. He would do the same for me. Having true friends in this place is so rare. Jonathon and I have a great deal in common though. We both had somewhat privileged lives with happy, yet dysfunctional families. He is white and from South Beach, Miami FL. Actually he is Polish, but whites are all the same in here. Our crimes are both vehicular. Jonathon however, accidentally ran over a Police Commissioner’s son with his Hummer in a parking lot outside a nightclub. He received a 35 year sentence.

People may wonder why his sentence is so much longer than mine (15 years). All I can say is that it is classic Arizona prison sentencing.  I am sure that politically, the fact that the victim was the Police Commissioner’s son did not help matters.  Even so, Jonathon is as positive as he can be. We keep each other grounded and that is a blessing in here. In case anyone is curious, Jonathon is straight. It would be fair to say that in prison, 99% of my friends are straight. It is not something that I feel good about really, but again, I have to survive in here and being friends with effeminate homosexuals would sadly be social suicide for me. The entire situation is incredibly fucked up. I hate that it has to be like that.

Last night, I ended up being able to go out and work out. I also ran a few miles because it was nice out. The track was very crowded though with aimless walkers so I had to navigate carefully.  When I was finished, I decided to check in with my fantasy football guys in dorm 1.  I also did some networking and made certain that my face was seen by the people that care to know that I am around, and available if I am needed. It creates a bad image if you stay in your own dorm all the time. Certain people are expected to make an appearance every once in awhile, and I am one of those people. By the time I was done making my ‘rounds’, I only had 15 minutes to get back to my own dorm, shower and settle in for the season’s premier of  the’ X Factor’. http://www.thexfactorusa.com/ I am a closet Britney Spears fan. (Save the commentary…please!) http://www.britneyspears.com/index.aspx

At the moment, it is 6:00 AM and as I look all the way down the “run”, and into control, I see one of my favorite officers is working. God… there really is something about him. Not only is he kind, and fair, he is also incredibly handsome. There are two other officers here who also captivate me. Both of them are naturally masculine and well, very ‘easy on the eye’ in that studly, virile way. While these men are indeed physically striking, what links them all is that they are reasonable, straightforward and do their jobs very well. Those qualities are equally attractive to me. Over the years, I have developed open lines of communication with these officers.  And that is important.

While it would be a stretch to call these relationships ‘friendly’, it is very fair to say that there is mutual respect there. Just as I am sure they are curious about us, we too are curious about them. Officers, who do not know about me, always ask me what the hell I did to get here. In turn, I want to know what compels them to work here. Some of them have so much more potential and it really makes you stop and wonder. 

Anyway, these are good men and though they are attractive; they do their jobs well and treat us with respect. Some officers come in with serious power trips.  Unfortunately, they typically do not last long.  A lot of prisoners have no problem physically assaulting an authority figure and that is what typically happens. Officer assaults are never good, but they happen more than you might think.

I work from noon to 8:00 PM today so I will kick back this morning and then call my mom as she rolls in from the hospital. This week has not been a good one for her so I like to check in as much as possible. At present, she is not the happiest woman and well, has not been for several years. This of course, is all my fault. I am man enough to admit that. In a way, she is in prison as well. Like me, she despises Arizona but remains because of me. Lately however, I have been making headway in terms of convincing her to sell the house, and move back to Boston. Change is good and she most definitely needs it in more ways than one. It would be very feasible for her to fly out to visit me every other month. Since my plan is to relocate to Boston upon my release, I hope that she will make this move.

Come October, she will be visiting with my friend Joe, who incidentally, has become her friend as well. During that trip, she will be looking at properties and meeting with prospective hospital employers too. We will see what happens.

I desperately need some good news in my life.

Last week, a homosexual was brought to the yard

Tuesday September 11, 2012

The lights are on and everyone is stirring. I attempted to sleep in today since I do not have to be at work until noon. I only got in an extra 30 minutes or so.

We had 5 different people roll up yesterday. “Rolling up” means they have said that they are not safe and wish tobe placed into protective segregation. All of the guys yesterday were white, so I am sure administration will be going after my friend, Bild, the Head of the whites. When people roll up willingly, they have to give up some intelligence to staff in order to be moved. 9 times out of 10, they always say the “Head” was threatening them into paying their debts etc. When that happens, it is only a matter of time before begin targeting the Head. If it continues, or if too many people become assaulted,  then the Head will be placed at the Special Management Unit which is basically a permanent “hole”. They will be considered a permanent security threat. The overall situation is bad because we do not normally step forward and say “I want to be the Head of our people”. Most times we are elected and told the position is ours. Should someone decline the position, then they end up being physically disciplined. It is not fair, but then again, not much in prison is.

Last week, a homosexual was brought to the yard. The inmates refused to allow him on the physical yard so he in turn, never stood a chance and had to leave. Since we one of the most violent yards in the state, the inmate population has made a unanimous decision to not allow any homosexuals here.  This is especially true for very effeminate homosexuals who refer to themselves. You may be wondering; why am I here then? Obviously there are exceptions to the rule. I am certainly the exception. I am, for all practical purposes, the ‘different one’.

Many years ago, I was linked up with a great guy named Lay-Z.. He is a highly respected member in a gang so is also very respected in prison. The overall perception was that because of this, I was not to be fucked with. Though I never really appreciated being perceived as someone’s “property”… It was an incredibly smart move that has never lost its advantages.  But on top of that, I am not a typical gay male. I am more of a ‘man’s man’ ; I work out, play sports, have learned the verbal lingo; the various handshakes and how to dress. I am accepted and over above that, I can fight. That little fact is well known throughout the prison population and definitely helps a lot. In any case, my sexual orientation rarely comes up and 80% of the prison population still believes, or views me as the property of Lay-Z even though we have not been on a yard together since 2009.

Whenever there is another gay inmate turned away, there is always a feeling of somehow being a traitor inside me. I feel like I should be doing something to make their lives easier here but to do so, would be putting myself in some serious jeopardy. The only people who actively stand up for homosexuals are the inmates who claim them like objects. I have been on a lot of yards with that dynamic and always... something happens. The most common incident is that they cheat on their man with someone from a rival gang or a different race.  The punishment for an offense of that nature is severe. Last year, a gay inmate was murdered. After a terrible beating, he was left in his bed to die slowly.  It is events of that nature that remind me that this place, is not ‘ok’.

Do not think that simply because  there are no open homosexuals allowed, that guys are not having sex. They are – and it is quite common. Why it is acceptable, I have no idea. I believe that they psychologically convince themselves that are not gay or bisexual. They are simply just ‘getting off’. Things are not always supposed to make sense. This is one thing that I have had to really get used to over the years.

As far as things go today, we have a volleyball tournament tonight providing the weather allows it. I need to go do some shopping at the inmate store. I am running low on basic staples; oatmeal, coffee, peanut butter, etc. I also need to swing by mail and property and see if there is anything there for me. My mom sent me a CD from Amazon.com. It is by a new artist named Elle Varner, http://www.ellevarner.com/ so I have been looking forward to that.

Before I end this entry for today, I need to make something extremely clear to those who choose to read these words. I am not, in any way, an advocate for anything that goes on here. I have witnessed some horrific things happen to people over the years. As I write, I may seem to be somewhat desensitized to it. I am not. Over the years, I have had to learn how to compartmentalize these disturbing events so that I can continue to move forward. It is the only option that I have. Survival is the most important thing, and things… can change in an instant here.

There is a direct correlation to how my friends and family are doing, to how I am doing.

Monday September 10, 2012

Good morning everyone. Another week is upon us. It’s early yet, about 5:00 AM and everyone is asleep still but a few early risers besides myself.

The weekend went off without a hitch. I spent Saturday finishing up a book called ‘Defending Jacob’. http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/11367726-defending-jacobTruly an amazing read. I highly recommend it for those of you who are strong of heart. On top of that, I did a week’s worth of laundry while zoning out to Sade’ http://www.sade.com/us/home/ and Adele http://www.adele.tv/ .  Being that it was Saturday, there was nothing much on TV so I had an early night.

My mom, Lyn was here to visit me yesterday. She also had my step father, Kevin in tow. The triumvirate relationship the 3 of us have is incredibly challenging. More so now than ever.

Lyn is certainly one of the most amazing women that I know. She is dysfunctional, but amazing. We are seriously best friends and have been since forever. Our road in life together has not been easy. For people looking from the outside however, they would think we have always had it easy. She never wanted our personal business out there and so, keeping that in mind, we have always created a very beautiful picture to be seen. In a way, it is very much like the movie ‘American Beauty’ http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/American_Beauty_(film) . At least from my point of view it is.

Lyn is a beautiful, charismatic, intelligent and strong woman.  Those who may not know her, see a woman that has accomplished a great deal because she lives a very comfortable upper class lifestyle. Those who know her more intimately however, understand that she works incredibly hard to preserve that existence.  She has also undertaken the role of ‘breadwinner and provider’ in her relationship, as Kevin has not been gainfully employed since the major economic collapse in 2007. As is the case in many relationships, the challenges they have both faced during the recession, have placed extraordinary stress and pressure on their partnership.

As I have become older, and more in tune with life, I would say there has definitely been some role reversal between my mother and I. I have voiced that I do not like how she is living and that she needs to make some changes in her life. I only want her to be happy but only she can make the changes. I have no power here.

When some people come to prison, we realize of course the many things that we took for granted. The thing that I have found that irritates me most, is when I have friends or family that have so many options and yet, do not take them. I have no options. I have to be here for the time being but believe me, when the time comes. I will seize all of my opportunities. All of this is not easy for me however, and there is a direct correlation to how my friends and family are doing, to how I am doing.

Example; Joe has Crohns disease. When I called him this past week, he was experiencing an attack. Until I was able to get a hold of him again by phone and know that he was in to see the MD, I was worried every minute. These people are all that I have in my life and they are not okay, well I am not okay.

Anyway, my visit yesterday was okay, but conversation was strained. By the time I got back to the dorm, I showered, finished watching the 49er/Packer football game and went to sleep.

Today, I only have to work a half day because Mr. X has a meeting this afternoon. This will give me some time to write a couple of letters. I have also been thinking about rewriting my profile on writeaprisoner.com http://www.writeaprisoner.com/ . I would really like to genuinely get to know someone.

Recently I had been writing to a man named Jerry, in Delaware. He said all the right thing on paper and then his photo came. Well, I did some quick PI work because the photos appeared to be computer generated. It turned out that the gay he was attempting to pass himself off as, is an actor in the Vampire Diaries TV show. I wrote him back, asking for an explanation and have not heard back from him since. Huh? I suppose I should expect more experiences to be like that, but I don’t. The pen pal thing is a big deal here. 50% of those who are actively doing it, are con artists. Guys here will post ads and write both women and men.  The will say that they are straight or gay or whatever it is they must say in hopes of getting some money. It is truly a pathetic venture that consistently bothers me but I have to hold my tongue. Still I think to myself that I am not one of those people and yet, all I get are guys asking how big my ‘parts’ are. What does it matter? They can’t play with them even if they wanted to. (Not yet anyway)

Loving someone in prison is not an easy situation to deal with

Friday September 7, 2012

I have the day off. Mr. O did not come in today so I went out sick and had a good 5 mile run around the track. I did not bring my CD player, so I was alone with my thoughts I guess. For the most part, I thought about how incredibly lonely I am. I have this unbelievable circle of support. My family and friends are great and yet, I still feel incredibly alone. Joe always says that my search of a partner is somehow in my hardwiring and that I think that finding love will somehow validate me. He may be right. Today though, it would’ve been nice just to know that I had someone like that on an intimate level. Over time, I have become to crave sex less, and intimacy more.

My pen pal experience has been mind blowing as I look back on it. I surely could write a book on their characters alone.  At this point, I would simply enjoy a person of quality over quantity though. Unfortunately, I get quantity, but not quality. I mean, 90% ask how big my dick is in the 1^st letter, or they send me photos of actors who they think I will not recognize and try to pass those images off as themselves. It is all very comical now that I think about it. Being in this position, I shouldn’t have high expectations, but I do have hope.

All that said, I do not mean to suggest that I have not had some great guys to correspond with.  In time, they realize that loving someone in prison is not an easy situation to deal with. I can’t blame them. Writing letters, talking on the phone and having an occasional visit still doesn’t make up for a lot of other experiences.

As soon as I came in from working out, we went on an ‘ICS’. A white guy got beat up pretty badly. Immediately I thought back to having a violence free day yesterday. In any case, we are all locked down and preparing for what is called a body/knuckle check. Basically, officers order us to get completely naked and turn 360 degrees with our hands out. The general idea is that staff can see if we have any visible marks on our bodies or hands that would signify that we have been in a fight.  Once that was over, I took a shower and then a nap.

I woke up when they called out for lunch. I make it a point to visit the chow hall as little as possible. Prison food is exactly as you would imagine it to be; unnatural grey colors with mashed vegetables and a lot of bread that has an eerie resemblance to cardboard. The meals that I do go to are always the same. French toast is the only palatable breakfast. For lunch, I will go if there is pizza or grilled cheese. Dinner; I will have cheeseburgers. That’s it. I pretty much live on the food that I buy at the inmate commissary. My basic staples are tuna, packaged chicken, rice, Ramen noodles, bagels, peanut butter, coffee and water.

Later on, I need to go and call my mom. She has worked all week but will be here on Sunday to visit so I am looking forward to that.

It’s always the little things that really count.

Work is good. It allows me a sense of 'normalcy'

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

It’s early, about 4:00 AM and I am awake, sitting at my desk with my faithful cup of coffee. Yesterday was work as usual. My work position here is as a clerk for the inmate counselor. Overall, we deal with 1,100 inmate case loads and it can be quite a chore. On top of that we manage recreation activities, program courses; inmate orientation, narcotics/alcohol anonymous, re-entry class and elective classes; fine arts (basic painting), creative writing and yoga.

My supervisor, will call him Mr. X, is awesome. He is retired Navy and very real, genuine. He can be a bit overzealous at times but he is a good man. Since he is a senior staff, he is also in charge of all inmate grievances. Believe me when I say it is no easy task. Inmates complain and grieve everything.

Work is good. It allows me to have a sense of normalcy but it also very demanding. Clerk positions on prison yards are highly sought after and, since they have very strict requirements, the greater majority of inmates are ineligible.  I myself have a two man team. I am Mr. Os lead clerk and then I brought on one of my best friends Jonathan (who is awesome) and also an OG (original gangster) Jimmy, who I have known for many years. Together, we are a force to be reckoned with and we have all our bases covered. Jonathon is white and Jimmy is Mexican. I long for the day when I do not have to care about what race somebody is!

The greater majority of yesterday was spent playing catch up since we were off Monday. We got out of the office around 5:00 PM which is decent. A 12 hour work day is normal here. On the way back to the yard, we went on ICS (Incident Command System). This means that something has happened and all inmates must be locked down immediately at their respective housing locations. You would think that we were being bombed upon sometimes. In any case, some stupid guy left his cell phone in the bathroom and an officer found it. Cell phones are not allowed in prison, but ironically, there are 10-12 cell phones per building though. It is a surreal feeling to walk down the run in prison and see guys laying on their bunks, talking or texting on their phones. It is really odd. Cell phones look so foreign to me now….

Due to the ICS, a squad officers came in and searched the dorm thoroughly. Searches are extremely violating no matter how many times they happen.

The yard was back to normal operations by 7:00 PM and I had already showered and settled in for an evening of Top Gear and Master Chef. TV is the ultimate babysitter!

So it’s early now. All is dark and quiet. My TV is on for light. Yes, we have our own TVs. Well, some of us do. Nothing is cheap here and we only get paid $.15 cents, or $.45 cents an hour, in my case. For those who do not have the love and support from family and friends, things are very rough! I have a 15” LCD TV. It is considered “high end” because most everyone still have the original box sets. We get a bunch of channels, so I have no complaints there. I also have a 12” fan, personal CD player, Oakley sun glasses, a G-Shock watch and a couple of pairs of Nike Air Max tennis shoes. Some of these items are not normal but you will find that a lot of the OG’s have relatively nice things and no one asks where or how they acquired them.

Over the years, the title “OG” has changed its criteria. It used to require you to have done a lot of street living or had gang affiliation. The problem was, people realized that even these individuals would come to prison and not have a clue how to do time. Now, the criteria is that you must have been locked up for 10 consecutive years, be it jail or prison, to have earned the title. Whatever. I still feel weird when people call me an “OG”, but it mostly the babies; 18-25 year olds.

I realized that I am behind on some letters this morning. I do my best to stay on top of them, but only certain people take priority. Those people are my best friend Joe, my mom and my aunt Jan. Beyond that, I do have some random pen pals, nothing serious. Back in 2007, I realized that I was actually lonely. I took a chance and posted a profile up on a prison pen pal website. The response was insane. I quickly learned that the majority of guys reaching out to me were trying to fulfill some kind of prison fantasy. That in mind, I wanted quality over quantity. It’s been quite a journey thus far and over time, you will learn about many of them.

Joe was the very 1^st person to respond to my profile and I can honestly say that I never would have guessed that we would become as close as we are now. He is a big part of my life and has also become a close friend to my mother as well. I have a love for him that I have never had for anyone in my life, so if he is what I got out of this entire pen pal journey, then I am content. We have been on a journey together ourselves as well. So he is no longer in the pen pal category. He is my family, my friend and my confidant. In fact, he is also my blog master.

I must make some time to write tonight. Come to think of it, I need to call him tonight as well.

Okay, it is time to hop in the shower and get off to work. Hopefully we will have a calm day here in the ‘sand pit’…. We probably will not be so lucky, so I am kidding myself.

There are so many 'Sides'- Race in prison

Monday September 3, 2012

Labor Day. The only thing that means for the population here is that there is no mail. Mail of course, is the highlight of everyone’s day. Unfortunately, very few people actually receive anything. Still, they continue to hope that, come 4:00 PM, their respective bed locations will be called.

For me, it also means that I am off from work. That is both a positive and a negative. The positives are that I was able to sleep in, workout, call home and speak to my stepfather, Kevin. My mom was asleep, coming off the graveyard shift at the hospital. When I came back inside, I was able to take a leisurely shower and do all my “manscaping”. It was too crowded to take care of my more personal needs. Yes, there are times when a mechanical masturbatory session in the shower can be the highlight of one’s day. In here, we lose the majority of our inhibitions! Oh well. Let the world be aware.

On the negative side, it means that I am available for inmates to find. Over the years, we have all developed reputations that follow us. Some are instigators, gangsters, mafia, racist skin heads, losers, weirdoes, etc.. I happen to have become the ‘peace keeper’. I have solid friendships with people of every race here and so, when there are interracial problems (and believe me, there always are), I am the one people come running to. Its exhausting really.

In any case, as soon as the yard opened this morning, I was found. Apparently, a Brotha (Black inmate) was receiving a blow job by his ex girlfriend at visitation yesterday. A Raza (Mexican American) was next to him with his family and witnessed the act.  In a situation like this, fighting is the only option. A genuine apology will simply not suffice and so, they fought. Both participants are still here; walking, talking and breathing. That’s all I care about.

I want you to know that I am in no way an advocate for violence. I have realized however, that in here, fighting is the easiest way to communicate. This usually pertains to those who have a brain the size of a fruit fly. Interracial fights can be more dangerous though. People of another race may take the loss of a fight very personally and want vengeance. There are so many ‘sides’ here that it can be confusing.

The generic race breakdown is as follows:

   

Natives = Native American                        Gang: Separated by tribe

Brothas = Black                                            Gangs: West Side, South Side, Muslims, Crips, Bloods, Vice  Lords, Gangsta Disciples

Razas = Mexican Americans                      Gang: Stay together

Parsas = Mexican Nationals                      Gang: Border Bothers

Woods = Whites/Caucasions                    Gang: Skin Heads, Aryan Brothers

It is an extremely rare occurrence, that you will have everyone join forces together. Really rare.

Anyway, I happen to have friends in every category and that is also very rare. That in mind, I am used for my connections, and also, to keep peace, and open lines of communication. At this point the day is still young so I am hoping there are no more issues. Time to relax.

The Beginning; 'I should not be alive'

Sunday September 2, 2012

I should not be alive.
This thought comes to mind at least once a day. Today, the thought is more powerful because there is not much to do. I could workout, read, watch TV, write a letter of simply sleep but all of these seem unappealing to me at the moment. That in mind, I am left alone, with nothing but my thoughts.

It’s noon time and as I look around my temporary home, I see tall brick and mortar walls on all sides of me. This space is long and narrow with random cubicle spaces. By the initial sounds of it, one may think of a relic phone call center, or office space, when in fact, it is a prison. A place built upon conformity. A place that I still cannot believe I am at. A place I must call my ‘temporary home’.

Somehow, I have managed to survive for many years, In fact, I have been a ward of the state of Arizona since 2002. What does that mean? A “ward of the state”? Really, I am just a number. I am now formally known by my inmate number, or simply by my last name. Sometimes I think I no longer have a first name. How crazy is that?

I live a lie in order to survive, but it is what I have learned along the way that has helped me be successful at it. In a realistic situation, I should be able to be as “ok” as I am here. My entire life, belief system and moral compass go against everything prison insists you be. I am not just speaking of the prison administration. I am also referring to the inner prison population.

Before I came to prison, I thought of convicts and inmates much in the same manner that most would; big scary men, murderers/rapists; with tattoos, drugs, weapons, violence, etc. Keep that stereotype in your forethought for a moment and then put this description into your mind: a 31 year old male, of mixed ethnicity, upper middle class, college educated, well travelled, articulate and a career in modeling.   Now add to that, the fact that he is a confident, secure and open homosexual. Would you say that he would be typical prison material? 

Well here I am.

Believe me, when it comes to prison, no one is exempt. I live amongst some pretty insane individuals and in comparison to their crimes, I sadly also fit the bill. You see, when I said earlier that I should not be alive, well I meant that I should be dead along with the three individuals that lost their lives in the car crash that brought on this prison sentence for me. I see now that it was not the plan, but it could have been. The accident was my fault.

The reason for this blog is to not only educate people on what life is truly like behind those towering walls people see when they pass by them on far away highways, but to also let people know that anyone can be here. In no way  do I fit the stereotype of the average prisoner, but it oddly works to my benefit. Over time, I will explain my story, and the story of many others that are a part of my world. I hope that at some point, you can take something away from it.

In truth, this blog idea actually came from my best friend, Joe I had been tossing the idea of writing a book back and forth for awhile and he said “What about a blog?” A couple of weeks later, I discussed it with my inner circle, which consists of my amazing mother, Lyn, my step father Kevin, and myself, of course. I mean; I had to think about what it would be like to really put it all out there. I own my situation, take responsibility for it completely. Telling the world about it, is a whole other story. In the end, I had everyone’s blessings, so here I am.