I spent a great deal of time on Desert Park Lane as a boy. My grandparents lived there, off of 7th Street, until I was 13. It was my home away from home. I probably spent more time there while awake than any particular place I lived with my parents.
I was thinking, today, of one of the trees in the front yard. I think the tree is still there. I drive by the house from time to time to take a look at it, but I realized today that I cannot remember if the grapefruit tree in the front yard, the one closest to the street, was still there.
I wondered if it would still feel the same? Would my hands remember it if I were to stand underneath it and place my hands where I did when I was a boy? I would reach up there and swing back and forth or do pull ups. Would the branch still support my weight? This was the first tree I remember climbing up fairly high in. Would it still seem high? Could I still climb?
I broke my first window in that front yard, pitching a baseball at the bricks between the two bedroom windows that faced the street. There was about as much room between the two bushes under the windows as there is on a baseball field between the two batters boxes. It was perfect for learning control. I remember being very ashamed to have to go ask one of the neighbors if they would help fix the window. My grandmother made me go and ask and explain what I had done.
I remember being outside one day while my grandfather was watering the various bushes and such around the house. At one point, he told me to stand very still and I was a bit startled by his request. I looked at him and saw that he was aiming the hose, which had one of those gun like nozzles on it for spraying the water, at my leg. He said, "don't look down" as he shot the water toward me, knocking off the black widow that was climbing up my leg before it could bite me. How much pain did my grandfather save me that day? He was the man and I miss him.
I've often thought about writing a book that would be about all of the places I have lived. I would go around and take pictures of them now and then write about my time there. The Desert Park Lane entry would be bittersweet, for sure. It would be hard to write, but probably important for me to do so. Who I am has so much to do with my time there.
I may just have to drive by there again soon to check out the tree. I wonder if the new owners would let me have a closer look?
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
post birthday sentimentality...or something else entirely...who knows where this will go?
Last night was really nice. I got some nice phone calls from out of town friends, tons of love on the 'net, and some family came over for cake. It was a mellow, but good, birthday. I am 41 years old now. On some levels, that is crazy and on others, it is not. How did I get to here? How did I get to the point where I am sitting in front of a computer typing about my life. Would I have seen myself doing this if you would have asked me 5, 10, 15, or 20 years ago? Who knows? I certainly don't.
All in all, I'm pretty happy with where I am right now. Could it be better? Of course. Could it be worse? Definitely. I've led a very interesting life. I've done a heck of a lot of what I've wanted to do. I have had realizations, man. I still have questions, which is good, but I feel like I'm getting much better at finding the answers when I truly sit down and decide to look.
I thought about what my goals are for this 42nd year of my life. I will be having surgery about 5 months in, so a good portion of my year will be focused on getting my body ready for that and then recovering. By this time next year, I plan to be skateboarding again. That will be about 7 months after having my ACL reconstructed. So in terms of health, my goals are thus:
1. Begin today, 10-19-10, strengthening my leg. I will start riding the elliptical on a daily basis. I will also start working on the rest of my body as well. Push-ups and crunches each day.
2. Walking 3x per week at least a mile. This can be done at the gym or by walking to the park and walking around it. I can take the kids or Calvin or both.
3. Playing Wii helped before and it can help again.
4. Eat better. Processed sugar is my enemy. It really is. I don't exactly know why, but it makes me feel terrible. After my father in law goes back to Maine, it is diet city for me.
That's enough for now.
All in all, I'm pretty happy with where I am right now. Could it be better? Of course. Could it be worse? Definitely. I've led a very interesting life. I've done a heck of a lot of what I've wanted to do. I have had realizations, man. I still have questions, which is good, but I feel like I'm getting much better at finding the answers when I truly sit down and decide to look.
I thought about what my goals are for this 42nd year of my life. I will be having surgery about 5 months in, so a good portion of my year will be focused on getting my body ready for that and then recovering. By this time next year, I plan to be skateboarding again. That will be about 7 months after having my ACL reconstructed. So in terms of health, my goals are thus:
1. Begin today, 10-19-10, strengthening my leg. I will start riding the elliptical on a daily basis. I will also start working on the rest of my body as well. Push-ups and crunches each day.
2. Walking 3x per week at least a mile. This can be done at the gym or by walking to the park and walking around it. I can take the kids or Calvin or both.
3. Playing Wii helped before and it can help again.
4. Eat better. Processed sugar is my enemy. It really is. I don't exactly know why, but it makes me feel terrible. After my father in law goes back to Maine, it is diet city for me.
That's enough for now.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
thought(s) of the day
I'm thinking of already doing a spin-off blog that apparently no one will read about my experience working within the women's prison. I think it might be interesting and informative for people to read, perhaps, and also help me track how this experience plays out.
My thought for the day pertains to the fact that in 2+ years of working here, not one inmate that I have spoken to has talked to me about how they were "screwed" by the system and don't deserve to be where they are. The media often portrays inmates in this light, that they all feel they are innocent and should not be where they are. I have to say that I have never heard this from anyone I have talked to.
Of course, there are plenty of people who think their sentences are unfair in terms of length of time, but often times when I listen to them talk about what they did and what they got in terms of a sentence, I agree that they should probably not be here at Perryville for as long as they are. Ironically, that last sentence was really long. Probably longer than it should have been....
My thought for the day pertains to the fact that in 2+ years of working here, not one inmate that I have spoken to has talked to me about how they were "screwed" by the system and don't deserve to be where they are. The media often portrays inmates in this light, that they all feel they are innocent and should not be where they are. I have to say that I have never heard this from anyone I have talked to.
Of course, there are plenty of people who think their sentences are unfair in terms of length of time, but often times when I listen to them talk about what they did and what they got in terms of a sentence, I agree that they should probably not be here at Perryville for as long as they are. Ironically, that last sentence was really long. Probably longer than it should have been....
Friday, October 8, 2010
Realization? Forced empathy, perhaps?
So I was stuck in the ridiculous traffic on Tuesday that was the result of the sky bursting open and showering the valley of the sun with massive amounts of rain and hail. I have pictures that I will have to share once I figure out how to do that....but I digress from the real point of this post.
I work in a prison. I have come to find a small amount, I believe, of understanding of how it must feel to be incarcerated. On Tuesday, I think I was shown a small glimpse of what a prison sentence must be like.
At around 5:40pm on Tuesday, I exited I-10 and merged onto the ramp that takes cars, trucks, motorcycles, and busses to I-17. About 40 yards onto the ramp, I came to a complete stop. I could see that traffic was backed up as I approached the ramp, but I figured it was only temporary (right?) so even if I had to wait a bit, it would be okay. I have to wonder if this is akin to what some of my co-workers thought about the crime they committed. They could see it wasn't the best choice, but thought they would get away with it, or worse, even if they got caught, it wouldn't be that bad.
I made a choice and I was going to have to stick by it. There was no turning back. It was still daylight out at this point, so I could see that traffic was not moving over the entire half mile or so that the ramp covered. There was still a trickle of cars moving north on I-17, so there was a bit of hope.
Then the trickle stopped and there was no traffic moving at all.
I wonder if that is how it feels to be sentenced to a long stint in prison? I know it must be a million times worse, of course, if not a billion, but I did say that I feel as if I have gotten a small glimpse of what incarceration must be like. I was stuck. I could go nowhere. I was in my SUV (don't hate me) and there was no place to go.
I could see this long, vast, motionless line of vehicles in front of me, much like the days, weeks, months, and years of a long sentence. All of those would have to move (or go away) for me to get to where I wanted to be. They weren't moving. They weren't going anywhere and I was resigned to the fact that I was not going anywhere either. The radio was not giving me any indication of why traffic was like it was, so I was clueless as to what was going on, except with the knowledge that I was going to have to wait my turn.
I was pretty calm, actually. I don't get a lot of quiet time to myself, so at first, I was at peace. This is where I'm sure my situation is very different than someone who is incarcerated for the first time. I highly doubt that there is much of a sense of calm for them, but maybe, in some cases, there is. If you had lived a pretty rough life, I can see where prison might bring a semblance of order. Horrible order, albeit, but order just the same. I know for a fact that for some of the women I work with, prison is a much safer place for them than the life they led outside of the gates.
It took almost three hours for me to get home. I didn't really start to get anxious until I was almost off of the ramp. Vehicles were exiting the ramp at a snails pace and as I got closer and closer, I got more anxious. I was also incredibly hungry, so maybe that was fueling my anxiety. I have seen ladies who were just days or weeks from the gate experience the same type of anxiousness. The last few miles home seemed like the longest....
Maybe I am crazy, but I think it would be remiss of me to not take advantage of the learning experience and use it to help me be better at my job.
I work in a prison. I have come to find a small amount, I believe, of understanding of how it must feel to be incarcerated. On Tuesday, I think I was shown a small glimpse of what a prison sentence must be like.
At around 5:40pm on Tuesday, I exited I-10 and merged onto the ramp that takes cars, trucks, motorcycles, and busses to I-17. About 40 yards onto the ramp, I came to a complete stop. I could see that traffic was backed up as I approached the ramp, but I figured it was only temporary (right?) so even if I had to wait a bit, it would be okay. I have to wonder if this is akin to what some of my co-workers thought about the crime they committed. They could see it wasn't the best choice, but thought they would get away with it, or worse, even if they got caught, it wouldn't be that bad.
I made a choice and I was going to have to stick by it. There was no turning back. It was still daylight out at this point, so I could see that traffic was not moving over the entire half mile or so that the ramp covered. There was still a trickle of cars moving north on I-17, so there was a bit of hope.
Then the trickle stopped and there was no traffic moving at all.
I wonder if that is how it feels to be sentenced to a long stint in prison? I know it must be a million times worse, of course, if not a billion, but I did say that I feel as if I have gotten a small glimpse of what incarceration must be like. I was stuck. I could go nowhere. I was in my SUV (don't hate me) and there was no place to go.
I could see this long, vast, motionless line of vehicles in front of me, much like the days, weeks, months, and years of a long sentence. All of those would have to move (or go away) for me to get to where I wanted to be. They weren't moving. They weren't going anywhere and I was resigned to the fact that I was not going anywhere either. The radio was not giving me any indication of why traffic was like it was, so I was clueless as to what was going on, except with the knowledge that I was going to have to wait my turn.
I was pretty calm, actually. I don't get a lot of quiet time to myself, so at first, I was at peace. This is where I'm sure my situation is very different than someone who is incarcerated for the first time. I highly doubt that there is much of a sense of calm for them, but maybe, in some cases, there is. If you had lived a pretty rough life, I can see where prison might bring a semblance of order. Horrible order, albeit, but order just the same. I know for a fact that for some of the women I work with, prison is a much safer place for them than the life they led outside of the gates.
It took almost three hours for me to get home. I didn't really start to get anxious until I was almost off of the ramp. Vehicles were exiting the ramp at a snails pace and as I got closer and closer, I got more anxious. I was also incredibly hungry, so maybe that was fueling my anxiety. I have seen ladies who were just days or weeks from the gate experience the same type of anxiousness. The last few miles home seemed like the longest....
Maybe I am crazy, but I think it would be remiss of me to not take advantage of the learning experience and use it to help me be better at my job.
Monday, October 4, 2010
A quick one
Maybe quick, maybe not. Who knows....
The weekend was a good one, I suppose. The show on Saturday night was definitely a mixed bag of tricks. We played ok, but I wasn't satisfied. We started off kind of rough. I think we forget to get together and get on the same page. We've all done so many shows that the muscle memory takes over and we forget that The Father Figures is a relatively new enterprise with less than a dozen shows under out belt. In fact, we have played these shows so far:
July 2009 at the Ruby Room
July 2009 at George and Dragon
October 2009 at Hollywood Alley
October 2009 at Inkenstein Tattoo
January 2010 at Sundance's
February 2010 at the Rogue
February 2010 at Joe's Grotto
March 2010 at Rad's house for Ramp Jam
March 2010 at Skrappy's
April 2010 at Hollywood Alley
April 2010 at George and Dragon
July 2010 at Sundance's
August 2010 at Hell City (Biltmore Hotel)
September 2010 at Ice House
September 2010 at Club Congress
October 2010 at Hollywood Alley
Well, I have lied to you, dear reader. We have played in public 16 times. Two of those were parties, of course, and a couple were just bizarre, but we've played more than I thought. We have been prolific in terms of songwriting and I'm glad people seem to like the band. We just need to make sure and play the tightest shows possible.
One of the coolest parts of the weekend was a visit from Mark and Mo and some of the Bombers skateboarding club from SoCal. I am proud to count myself among their numbers, although I did not get to skateboard with them this time around due to the torn ACL. I was happy, though, to play a show for them and have them come over and skate my ramp. The wife made some excellent carne asada and everyone seemed to have a great time. I appreciate the gifts the Bombers brought me to no end. Some day, I will bequeath a lot of really cool stuff to my kids. I hope they appreciate it.
That's all for now. Back to work.
The weekend was a good one, I suppose. The show on Saturday night was definitely a mixed bag of tricks. We played ok, but I wasn't satisfied. We started off kind of rough. I think we forget to get together and get on the same page. We've all done so many shows that the muscle memory takes over and we forget that The Father Figures is a relatively new enterprise with less than a dozen shows under out belt. In fact, we have played these shows so far:
July 2009 at the Ruby Room
July 2009 at George and Dragon
October 2009 at Hollywood Alley
October 2009 at Inkenstein Tattoo
January 2010 at Sundance's
February 2010 at the Rogue
February 2010 at Joe's Grotto
March 2010 at Rad's house for Ramp Jam
March 2010 at Skrappy's
April 2010 at Hollywood Alley
April 2010 at George and Dragon
July 2010 at Sundance's
August 2010 at Hell City (Biltmore Hotel)
September 2010 at Ice House
September 2010 at Club Congress
October 2010 at Hollywood Alley
Well, I have lied to you, dear reader. We have played in public 16 times. Two of those were parties, of course, and a couple were just bizarre, but we've played more than I thought. We have been prolific in terms of songwriting and I'm glad people seem to like the band. We just need to make sure and play the tightest shows possible.
One of the coolest parts of the weekend was a visit from Mark and Mo and some of the Bombers skateboarding club from SoCal. I am proud to count myself among their numbers, although I did not get to skateboard with them this time around due to the torn ACL. I was happy, though, to play a show for them and have them come over and skate my ramp. The wife made some excellent carne asada and everyone seemed to have a great time. I appreciate the gifts the Bombers brought me to no end. Some day, I will bequeath a lot of really cool stuff to my kids. I hope they appreciate it.
That's all for now. Back to work.
Friday, October 1, 2010
The initial voyage
I am approaching 41. Quickly approaching, actually, and I haven't really decided if I'm cool with being 40 yet. I think I am, I really do, but there is so much I thought I would have accomplished by now. Can't I just turn back the clock a bit and get a few do-overs?
I sit in a prison, literally, while I type this on my break. How clever I am for using "prison" and "break" in the same sentence, yet no one is committing a felony. How did I get here? There are some of you who may eventually read this that will say something smarmy like, "you earned it," and in all reality, I guess I did earn it. Maybe just not in the way that some of you smarmy types probably meant it.
My time in prison is just one story that I have to tell and I have many stories to share. It is the time, I think, to start sharing these stories. The question of the day, so far, has been "tell me about Puritan humping." I'm completely serious. Apparently the "ladies" I work with get the discovery channel (or something like it) on their prison cable. I ended up googling "puritan humping" but there was nothing listed. I'm kind of surprised it was not the title of something of a straight to DVD film, but one never knows. The more I think about it, that probably wouldn't be the best title for a porn, but there is a fetish for everyone, I suppose.
On the way to work today I listened to the Minutemen. I can't listen to them very often or I start writing songs that sound a lot like them, even though I am not nearly as "funky" a bass player as Mike Watt. I wish I were. I learned of my proclivity for out and out copy-catting after listening to a ton of Hammerhead during one particular summer. I was doing Hillbilly Devilspeak exclusively at that time and a lot of the HD songs from that period borrow heavily from Hammerhead. Shane, our drummer, liked to point that out a lot.
I suppose I should mention the family. For me, right now, family equals frustration. I have two teenagers at home with S.A.D. (selective auditory disfunction), a couple of 'tweens with L.M.D (lazy, mood, defiant) syndrome, and two toddlers sporting a cough and fever. I can't seem to win on this particular front. I am a book widow, as well, as my wife has discovered yet another series of vampire books. This last little factoid is karmaic in nature, though, as I am also capable of filling my spare time with vast amounts of piddling obsession. My oldest son is a Marine so I don't see or hear from him very often. I am proud of him, though, and I balance my pride and worry by reminding myself that he seems to always land on his feet regardless of the relative merit of his decision making prowess.
I have recently found out that I have a torn ACL, a torn meniscus, and a bruised tibia. These facts annoy and depress me. I have not skateboarded, which has always been a favorite hobby of mine, for over 3 months. I have a ramp in my backyard, much to the chagrin of the bookworm, that taunts me on a daily basis. In those 3 months, I have gained about 15 of the pounds back that I worked my ass off to lose (literally) last year. I am not happy about the sedentary life. Second opinion is coming this week, so decision time lays ahead about how and when to have surgery.
I have sampled a few of the new TV shows and find myself going back to my old faithfuls. I did enjoy the first episode the HBO show about Atlantic City and Prohibition. I also enjoyed "Raising Hope" quite a bit. I tried a few others, but I will not mention the ones I hated because I don't remember their names at this moment. Thank Yahweh for DVRs though.
For now, I am finished.
I sit in a prison, literally, while I type this on my break. How clever I am for using "prison" and "break" in the same sentence, yet no one is committing a felony. How did I get here? There are some of you who may eventually read this that will say something smarmy like, "you earned it," and in all reality, I guess I did earn it. Maybe just not in the way that some of you smarmy types probably meant it.
My time in prison is just one story that I have to tell and I have many stories to share. It is the time, I think, to start sharing these stories. The question of the day, so far, has been "tell me about Puritan humping." I'm completely serious. Apparently the "ladies" I work with get the discovery channel (or something like it) on their prison cable. I ended up googling "puritan humping" but there was nothing listed. I'm kind of surprised it was not the title of something of a straight to DVD film, but one never knows. The more I think about it, that probably wouldn't be the best title for a porn, but there is a fetish for everyone, I suppose.
On the way to work today I listened to the Minutemen. I can't listen to them very often or I start writing songs that sound a lot like them, even though I am not nearly as "funky" a bass player as Mike Watt. I wish I were. I learned of my proclivity for out and out copy-catting after listening to a ton of Hammerhead during one particular summer. I was doing Hillbilly Devilspeak exclusively at that time and a lot of the HD songs from that period borrow heavily from Hammerhead. Shane, our drummer, liked to point that out a lot.
I suppose I should mention the family. For me, right now, family equals frustration. I have two teenagers at home with S.A.D. (selective auditory disfunction), a couple of 'tweens with L.M.D (lazy, mood, defiant) syndrome, and two toddlers sporting a cough and fever. I can't seem to win on this particular front. I am a book widow, as well, as my wife has discovered yet another series of vampire books. This last little factoid is karmaic in nature, though, as I am also capable of filling my spare time with vast amounts of piddling obsession. My oldest son is a Marine so I don't see or hear from him very often. I am proud of him, though, and I balance my pride and worry by reminding myself that he seems to always land on his feet regardless of the relative merit of his decision making prowess.
I have recently found out that I have a torn ACL, a torn meniscus, and a bruised tibia. These facts annoy and depress me. I have not skateboarded, which has always been a favorite hobby of mine, for over 3 months. I have a ramp in my backyard, much to the chagrin of the bookworm, that taunts me on a daily basis. In those 3 months, I have gained about 15 of the pounds back that I worked my ass off to lose (literally) last year. I am not happy about the sedentary life. Second opinion is coming this week, so decision time lays ahead about how and when to have surgery.
I have sampled a few of the new TV shows and find myself going back to my old faithfuls. I did enjoy the first episode the HBO show about Atlantic City and Prohibition. I also enjoyed "Raising Hope" quite a bit. I tried a few others, but I will not mention the ones I hated because I don't remember their names at this moment. Thank Yahweh for DVRs though.
For now, I am finished.
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