Muy Infermo

 

I'm sick. I'm feeling rotten. I don't know what it is. It's not a cold. It's intermittent stomach pains which leads to numerous visits to the bathroom. My boss let me off early the last two days. Hopefully, it'll go away soon.

I haven't been this sick since I last kicked in San Quentin. On that particular arrest, I was getting sick during the booking process. At one point, I was interviewed by the good old people at OR (Own Recognisance). I was sad because I was going to be locked up for awhile. I knew I wasn't getting OR'd so I, like I was catatonic, answered her questions with a blank expression on my face.

After I was housed I noticed the guard checking on me every half hour. I was sick and wanted to be left alone. I told him to stop bothering me. He snickered and said he couldn't do that.

At recreation time I talked to some of the other inmates, explaining my situation with the guard. They all laughed and informed me I was on suicide watch. All because of the OR lady.
Later, a jail shrink requested an interview with me. At this point, I am at my sickest. It is hard to string thoughts together, Nausea, diarrhea, shivers, sweats, sneezing, the works.
He said, "I have to ask you a few questions." First of all do you know the date. I answered "mid September." "Year?" "2006" "President?" "George W" "California Governor?" Uh oh.
I had a crazy notion in my mind that Arnold Swarzenegger was the Governor. So, I risked the psychiatric wing of the jail and responded, with doubt, "Arnold Shwarzenegger?"
The Doctor laughed at my unsure response. I told him he should do evaluations for anyone who signed that petition to recall the former Governor and who actually voted for Arnold.
At that moment, he closed his binder, and told me I was alright. He blamed my sadness on the incarceration and the lack of drugs that I was now coming down on.
It also ended the 1/2 hour suicide checks from the guard.

Until next time

Art-Marc Chagall, I and the Village

Read From The Beginning to See The Transformation

SeriouslyThis work of art from one of my friends / It is one of the greatest profound feelings I have had from viewing Art!

 

Click Image

 

Click on the image ,and, please

let me know what's going on there.

 

Now for a little fun

 

 

     Horro              

 

Deer God!

Again. This time some guy made a right turn from the left lane. Guess who was in the right lane. Yep, good old me. He claims there was only one lane. Well, just to make sure, I took a video of two lanes of traffic traveling in the same direction. This van has been taking a beating lately.

It's gay pride weekend here in SF and there are tons of outatowners driving around, not knowing where they're going. Thank god I finished work at 4 today because people are starting to stream into the city. I might go to the Dyke March in the Mission. That's always fun. Tomorow is the giant GLBT Parade on Market St. I looked at the deliveries for tomorrow and there are 4 or 5 from 10 to 12. It might be a little tough because they are closing down Market St and all of the streets that connect to it. I'm praying for people not to drive into town. I love my Sunday am deliveries becasue of the deserted streets. Not tomorrow though.

The Attica Prison riot is mentioned in the film Half Nelson in an oral presentation done by an African-American student. Film footage of the riot is shown over the dialogue of the student. I learned that 39 people died. 29 prisoners and 10 hostages. All of them by police bullets.
It was the bloodiest one day encounter ,besides the Indian massacres in the early 1900s, between Americans since the Civil War. The prisoners were trying to negotiate because of the inhuman conditions.

I had a Marin County delivery and I happened upon this beautiful creature. He might have eaten out of my hand if I tried. What's with nature getting close to me lately?


Until next time


Art

Police and Thieves

I'm walking down Jones St. in the tenderloin yesterday and as I turned the corner 2 undercover narcs from the SFPD were wrestling with a guy on the ground. The suspect was putting up a good fight. The lady narc was trying to radio for help but dropped her walkie talkie. They were really having a hard time with this guy. The narc finally managed to grab her walkie talkie off the ground and radioed for help as she was helping her partner. I swear within a minute, over 100 cops descended on that corner and I was in the middle of it. I took this video as they arrived. The response time was fast. I thought bank robberies response time was about 5 minutes. If you ever need help fast, maybe you might want to add offficer in trouble in your 911 call.

Junior Murvin- Police & Thieves


Art

You Don't Remember Me, Do Ya?

6 words, I can live without ever hearing them again. But that's just what I heard today as I pulled into a delivery loading dock all the way down in Mountain View, a good 40 miles away from SF. A man on a lawn mower tractor thing pulled up along side of me and asked me, "You Don't Remember Me, Do Ya?" My first thought was he was a worker at the company I was delivering to and got transferred to lawn duty. I said, "Yeah, you used to work at building blah blah blah on the back dock right?" He said," No, from San Francisco". I immediately went into a defensive stance. I mean who knows, could he be someone I burned years ago or a case of mistaken identity? He then mentioned 16th St and Mission. He said he used to deal drugs to me. He couldn't believe I didn't remember him. He also said that he stopped selling in SF and was doing good with his own lawn mowing business. He then told me about the countless arrests he endured in SF and about the 3 times they deported him to Mexico and the thousands of dollars it cost him to sneak back in the country.

I explained to him how I had changed my life and wasn't scoring on 16th St. anymore. He praised me on how well I looked and mentioned that he still sold drugs on the side but only from a phone. I told him no thanks and that if I ever met him again, and asked him for his number to not give it to me no matter what. He laughed and said, "I can't do that". So now I have to constantly be aware of this guy whenever I do that delivery. And so the struggle continues.

Until tomorrow

Art
Blast this on your headphones

Hello Yeah It's Been Awhile Not Much How Bout You

On Saturday it was an unheard of 93 degrees in the city. Everyone here was freaking out. I had a delivery which was in the
View Larger Map">Sea Cliff neighborhood of San Francisco. Luckily, I had an hour break and Baker Beach was right down the street. Off I went. It was nice until I got to the nude beach part.

The first time I went to this beach back in 94 I heard there was a nude beach. So, I grabbed some friends and off we went. What a letdown that was. Instead of sunbathing Natalie Portman types we got a bunch of John Madden types. The nude beach was filled with old fat men. Not a woman in sight. What a ripoff. I didn't even look this time, it was just my turnaround point. I did get to see a few fishermen. I used to fish off the beach in Far Rockaway New York every summer with my family. We used to catch plenty of fish. These guys on Baker Beach weren't catching anything. Are there still fish in the Ocean or are they all farm raised?

That one hour didn't sate my appetite so I decided to make plans to return the next day when I had most of the day off. After work on Saturday I bought a bathing suit and shorts and tanning oil and sunglasses and thongs, I mean flip flops, and t shirts and a nerf football and a frisbee. I was pumped. However, the heat wave didn't last and I didn't go. It was cloudy and about 60 on Sunday. And, who knows if it'll get over 90 in SF on a day off. Oh well. I can always use it at the park.

I received a nice call from my family at a restaurant gathering. They passed the phone around and I got to talk to everyone. I also received an email from a worried father who's son is in the program I was in when I first left prison. His son has a long road ahead of him and from what I was told he's been bumping his head lately. It's so heartbreaking when I think back about all of the things I missed out on and the people I have hurt and I am so grateful I'm not doing that today. I'll pay him a visit this weekend.

Until next time


My favorite George Carlin bit.

While growing up, I didn't think much of Billie Jean King. I thought of two things. Feminist and lesbian. Well, I think alot more of her now. What a great woman.I saw a great documentary about Bilie Jean King. I looked all over the web for this video and it's nowhere to be found. But, here's a link

.............And 4 Years Ago Today

It was 4 years ago today when I first entered prison. June 18th 2004. It was a Friday. A lot has happened since then. I remember praying that first night for something like this. Living life on the outside free from drugs, alcohol, and crime. Doing what others do. Making ends meet. It's been quite a trip. From that little cell to freedom to that little cell to 2 more times to a program to where I am today. So what reminded me of this anniversary?

While driving back from my early morning delivery I felt an odd sense of discomfort. When I looked into my side mirror, I noticed it. Unmistakably, there it was, a few car lengths back on my left. A California Department of Corrections Bus. It's called the Grey Goose. It pulled up along side of me. I could see through the tinted windows and saw several men in orange, heads craning from side to side, on their way to prison. I knew exactly how they felt. This would probably be the last look of civilization for quite a few of them for some time. I tried to take in as much as I could before entering the gate at San Quentin.

I was supposed to see my parole officer today to see if I am off parole. It's also been 13 months since I left prison. If a parolee does good for a year, they will grant him an early discharge from parole and it takes a month after the year to take effect. So, I might be off parole as I write this. I will go see him tomorrow.

We hit traffic and from San Carlos to the airport it was the bus and I, practically side by side for the entire 20 odd miles. I got a little nervous when I shot the video because I thought maybe the guards would wonder what I was up to and radio a squad car or shoot me. Still a bit paranoid I guess.


So it got me thinking about things that have happened since that dreadful day. Things are looking up for me right now. I'm happy and excited about what's around the bend for me. And it was a harsh reminder of what awaits me if I think I can go back and enjoy a taste of the life I left behind. A seat, on the Grey goose, on my way to the loneliest place on earth.

Art

Here's a video that brings tears to my eyes

Look at that man, Ma!

A strange thing happened to me today at Union Square, in the heart of San Francisco's mindless consumer district. They were having one of those crappy art displays and I decided to take a look. It seemed like every painting had a blood red motif. I was standing in front of one of the paintings when out of nowhere a sparrow landed on my shoulder and seemed to check out the same painting. The family in back of me went into hysterics. "Oh my god!" ,"A birdie! A Birdie!", "on that man's shoulder!." I turned to look at the bird and it was turning his neck back and forth searching my eyes. I'm glad he didn't make a meal out of them. The family started shouting for everyone in the vicinity to look at me. I decided to take a few steps and the bird took off. As I turned to look back at the family, I saw the awe on their faces. I felt like Jesus. I put my head down and briskly exited the square. Actually, this is what celebrities must go through on a daily basis. "Look! Look!" So is this a sign? What kind of sign. I heard if a bird flies into your house, a death will soon follow. Hopefully it isn't the same as a landing on your shoulder. Maybe the bird has such great instincts for loving, thoughtful, and peaceful people. Maybe, this happens in that park a lot. I remember back in my high wire days when I would take a break from my criminal activities and sit down in that square. Every weekday a women would bring a microphone and speaker and sing old showtunes to the tourists for donations. But, the strange part was that while she sang, pigeons would flap and land on and all around her . It was bizarre.. I would have freaked if it was a pigeon on my shoulder.

The picture on the upper left are protesters holding up signs and flags bringing attention to the atrocities the Chinese government are responsible for in Tibet. I watched a great Frontline Program about the genocide in Darfur. The Sudan is the main supplier of oil for the Chinese and Sudan's security force's hired the Janjaweed, a brutal band of killers ....... Click on The Frontline link and watch it. Another example of the cruelty we are capable of.

Saw an excellent movie called In Bruges about hitmen who hide out in Bruges, Belgium, the oldest preserved medieval city in the world.

Here's a documentary on CSP-Sacramento where I was in 2004 I was in B-yard. They talk about it halfway through. Horrible Place

Until next time

Art

----------------
Listening to: Shonen Knife - Under My Pillow

via FoxyTunes

Read From The Beginning to See The Transformation

Happy Father's Day

I am not a dad. I have never ever been interested in being a parent because of all of the grief I put my parents through growing up and even now. I didn't want any of that. Until recently. I realize I am getting old and it may be too late for me to be a dad. What kid wants a 55 year old dad when he's 10. Nowadays, kids melt my heart. Even when they're screaming loud and throwing tantrums.
It must be fantastic raising a kid and watching that child grow. This may turn out to be my biggest regret. It really breaks my heart whenever I read or hear about a child who dies or gets seriously injured on account of abuse. I can't understand that one. They're children. Sure they're going to get their parents angry at times. But to physically hurt them, that's just not right.

So this weekend is Father's day. I sent my stepdad Jimmy a nice card and gift. I sure missed numerous Father's days on the account of my druggie days and being locked up. So, it felt good being able to do that this year. My other father the one who helped me live on this planet, is a different story. My parents separated when I was in the 4 th grade. I remember when they told me that dad wasn't going to be living with us anymore, relief instead of sadness washed over me.
My parents were way too young when they married and had kids. by the time my dad was 20 he had 3 kids. Me, Bonnie, and Johnny. I remember lots of good times growing up. Fishing, baseball games, visits to parks and vacations. But, the last few years my parents were together it was just awful. Fights, shouting, screaming. I hated it. It also affected us kids because of the whole vibe in our house. We visited dad on the weekends in NY for about a year when suddenly he just dropped off the face of the earth. He split for Florida with his new girlfriend and for some reason, they didn't bother to keep in contact with us. Then I missed him. He returned a few years later and we resumed our weekend visits. He was a much better dad. He wasn't as angry. Throughout High School and my early twenties we had a pretty good relationship. However when I moved to California in 89 we stopped talking completely. In 2001 I wrote him from the drug program I was in and apologized and informed him of my problems with addiction. He wrote back and said it was one of the greatest moments of his life hearing from me. I briefly corresponded with him but eventually stopped due to a relapse.

This past summer when I went to Florida for my niece's baptism we saw each other for the first time since 1989. I thought it would be a good chance for me to patch things up and reestablish our relationship. We didn't speak much but as I left he made sure to get my number and email address and it seemed like we might become father and son again. I wrote him when I returned to California and he wrote me back saying he wanted to give me some advice but at a later date. It was looking pretty good. I wrote again and again without a response. His birthday, Christmas. Nothing. Not a word. Back to the same old shit. Someone suggested since he's not of the internet generation, he might have never opened my emails. However he has his own Web Hosting Business. I know he is probably disappointed with the way my life went but I wish he would understand that one big part of getting a life for myself now is having him back in my life. But, It's something I can't make him do. And it sucks. It makes me feel less and less of him and I don't want to feel that way. Hopefully, someday we can repair all that has been done.

My nephew Christian informed me this week of his report card. 2 A's 1c and the rest B's. He just missed the honor roll. I am so proud of him. I realize that he's a lot like me without the bad qualities. What a great kid. It cost me $40, 20 for each A, and I like this arrangement we have. It wouldn't bother me at all if he got all A's and I had to shell out $140. He's probably going to be the closest thing I have to a son. So, throughout my life I am really going to watch out for him and his sister.

Until next time
Art
.

WTC VII WTF

That flyer is posted all over the city. And when you think about it why did tower 7 fall down like that.
It's Belmont Stakes day and the ringer horse from Japan, Casino Drive, was scratched yesterday for a bruised hoof he sustained in a morning workout. That leaves Big Brown as a big favorite. Maybe 1/5. I'm certainly not going to put down 5 dollars to win 1 dollar. I'd rather bet on oil hitting $200 by Christmas.

I watched a movie called The Bridge last night. It's a documentary about people who end their lives on the Golden Gate Bridge. The filmmaker filmed the bridge for a year and captured several deaths.
It sure put my ass in a different mood. It sure provoked a lot of thought. I am so blessed I am not bi-polar or clinically depressed or manic-depressive or having 5 voices in my head picking on me. Sure I get bummed now and then but to think that ending life to make the hurt stop sure put my little problems in perspective. Life is beautiful. Ups and downs, ins and outs, over and outs. Just like that Sinatra Song.

Until next time

Art

Amy Winehouse's new video (busted again)
One of Tatum Oneil's tools in order to stay clean

Why Bother

That's sums it up right there.
It's just been one of those days. Nothing specific happened to get me in this mood. I had more than 9 hours sleep last night. I spoke with mom who is on vacation in Vail Colorado. My parents are having a hard time adjusting to the altitude. It's like 8,000 ft. It wears them out easily. Mom can't wait to get back to sea level. It's one of those beautiful San Francisco days with temperature in the 70s and a nice breeze. There was absolutely no traffic from SF to Mountainview. I had only 1 small problem with one delivery but it turned out alright. It was payday too. So why do I feel like this? I'm carrying disgust around with me. Any little thing that some stranger does that affects me has me thinking horribly and at one point today I thought it would be nice if my brakes failed. and I dented some moron's Escalade who was a bit selfish as far as driving is concerned. But, that's the last thing I need right now. I would be looking for another job tomorrow and with today's news of the highest jump in the percent of unemployed since the crash of 86, well.

One thing that has been nagging me is in 2 instances I have erroneously been accused of relapsing. It came out of my bosses mouth when we had it out on the phone a few weeks ago after the 2nd accident and again after my sister received a text message from me with a few misspellings. So, it really sucks that whenever something goes wrong with me, that's what pops into people's minds. And, as it was pointed out to me, because of my track record, this is the way it's going to be for awhile. I was told not to worry about what others think and that what matters is what's really going on.

One thing I have never been able to do is chip. Chipping is when a user uses a couple times a week. I've tried to do it hundreds of times and I never could stop after the first one. Never. And my fall is never gradual like it was the first few years of using. It's steep and quick. Maybe it's because of all of the information in my head. My last fall lasted a week or so before it seemed like I dropped off the face of the earth. I used more and more in order to shut up all of those clean and sober voices in my head. I think that's what happened to the co founder of Delancey Street. After so many years of sober living, the recovery voices probably just couldn't be stifled with drugs. Plus the humiliation of coming back as a newcomer might have led him to use so much until he was found dead. Jail and prison have actually saved me from death in the past. Too bad he didn't get rescued, I mean arrested.

So, all I can do is let my actions speak for me. If you don't hear from me, than well, you won't think, you'll know.

Until next time

Art


----------------
Listening to: Magnetic Fields - Come Back from San Francisco
via FoxyTunes

Scotty

So, I"m walking down Mission St. towards the boss's office when from about 50 ft. I see someone waving their arms and screaming, "FRANKIE! FRANKIE!FRANKIE! I'm thinking, "oh no, who the hell is that." I mean it could be someone from my past who isn't fucked up, but most likely it's someone who is and thinks I'm still the old me. When he was 10 ft. away I saw who it was. Scotty. Now, here's a guy who always told me he'd rather die than get clean. He tried it once and said he was a miserable creature for a year. Hated it.

But he looked different. Most of the time when I would see him, we would be at 850 Bryant or Quentin. He would boast about being locked up 50 out of 52 weeks a year. Always on a violation for petty crap. So basically he's been doing 8 years for an original 2 year sentence. 9 months in, 1 week out. 6 months in, 2 weeks out and so on. No new charges. No new cases. Just violation after violation for things like abscounding, dirty tests and mostly not reporting to Parole in the first place. The old "catch me when you can."

Today, he looked healthy, almost clean cut. So I asked him if he just got out. He told me he has been out for a while and that parole came at him with a program for parolees who have had lots of resisting arrests and assault on an officer charges. Scotty is in prison a lot but doesn't go quietly. He also said that they have put him up in a room with free rent for a year. His food is provided for him and, most importantly, they put him on a methadone program. He goes to mandatory anger management classes and attends AA meetings. Paid for by the state.
It looks like parole might be taking a different look at rehabilitation.

It might seem like the state is spending too much money on Scotty by providing him with rent and food but it is probably going to save them much more in the long run. It costs about $30,000 a year to keep each prisoner locked up. This program can't be more than that. Plus, for the first time since he did that miserable clean year, he's clean, he's smiling and it looks like there is a glimmer of hope in his eyes. And he didn't ask me for any money. How about that. Almost everyone else does.

Until Tomorrow


Art

Great Documentary About Ex Con On Independent Lens

Let's hear it for recovering alcoholic/addicts American League RBI leader Josh Hamilton
and Triple Crown hopeful trainer of Big Brown Rick Dutrow Jr

----------------
Listening to: Stranglers - No Mercy
via FoxyTunes

Where was I

Well, I had to go to court this week for the ticket I got back in April for not stopping on a right on red. It was actually yellow when I made the turn (honest) and I guess the motorcycle cop was trying to meet a quota. When I went to pay the fine they told me it was $400. I decided to fight the ticket in court.
It was Tuesday and the day started horribly. When I turned the ignition on the refidgerated van it just clicked. Dead battery. I must have left the lights on or something. That one thing steamrolled into more and more things going wrong. My boss told me that I have to work on that. And it's true. Whenever I screw up, I find it very hard to move on and let it go. I get anxious, fret, ponder, and relive the mistake until that's all that is on my mind, making me less aware of what's going on around me which leads to more and more trouble. Does that make sense?
So, at 6:30 that night I entered 850 Bryant with dread for my court date. The last time I was there I wrote about what a nice gesture the judge made by dismissing uimy case because of my plea for mercy and being in recovery.
That last time when court started they read off a list of people who's cases were being dismissed in the interest of justice. One of the people they called had the same first name as me and when I asked the clerk to repeat the name he told me it wasan't me he called but a women. We shared the same first name. Francis. This brought a few chuckles from the courtroom.
So, as they read the names of peoplre who's cases were being dismissed this time, I heard my name loud and clear. My case was dismissed. No fine. No points. How about that. Suddenly, the day didn't seem so bad. I did a total 180. My attitude changed drastically most notably, gratitude. And it's been staying with me all week.
Last night I watched Sid and Nancy. I never saw this movie. I mistakenly thought the movie glorified drug use and the life of Sid. But it was like a slap in the face. It was dead on of the horror addicts go through. It took away any thought of using. It was nasty and it was true. The horror.

Until next time

Art

Thanks for the song anonymous it's great even with Sineed

----------------
Listening to: The Pogues and Sinead O'Connor - Haunted



(Shane MacGowan)
Do you remember that sunny day?
Somewhere in London
In the middle of nowhere
Didn't have nothing to do that day
Didn't wanna do nothing anyway

You got a way of walking
You got a way of talking
And there's something about you
And now I know I never ever
Want to be without you

[Chorus:]
I want to be haunted by the ghost
I want to be haunted by the ghost
I want to be haunted by the ghost
I want to be haunted by the ghost
Of your precious love
Of your precious love

The first time I saw you,
Standing in the street
You were so cool,
You could have put out Vietnam
My girlfriends ask me, "What's he like?"
I say, "He's kind of shy,
But that's the kind of girl I am,
He's my kind of guy"

[Chorus]

I'll build my world around you
I'll bless the day that I found you
I'll stand beside you, I'll never leave
Or tell you all those lies
That you'd never believe
via FoxyTunes

----------------
Listening to: Sex Pistols - sex_pistols_-_Sid_Vicious_I_Did_It_My_Way
via FoxyTunes

850 Bryant St.

This is the view from my place where I live. If you can make out the building with the antennae in the background, you will find that it is 850 Bryant St. The Hall of Justice. Traffic, Municipal, and Superior Courts, SFPD and the Sheriff's Department all use this building. But there's one part of this building that come's close to living hell. The 6th and 7th floors are the San Francisco County Jail. There's a circular building right next to it and it's called the new jail. 850 is where I went whenever I got in trouble in SF.

I have been booked into this jail dozens of times. The shortest stay being 1 day and the longest 3 mos. But each time, the process is up their with some of the worst experiences in my life.

It starts out with being put into a holding cell with other suspects. Usually there are no seats you I always wound up sitting on the floor. The process usually goes like this. Strip Search, picture, fingerprinting, nurse, turn in your property, change into jail clothing, and housing. You would think this might take a few hours but I have had times when it took more than 24 hours. And whenever I was here I was strung out and had a heroin habit. So the sickness would kick in about a day after arriving. They would house me on the 6th floor and because of the overcrowding I would have to find a spot on the floor of the dorm because all of the bunks were full. Just horrible. Being dopesick in this circumstance was just agony. No energy, hot and cold at the same time, diareah, aches, pains, and so on. One time they dropped my charges and said, "Roll it up, your being released." You might think I would be jumping for joy from hearing these words. Nope, I was so sick I didn't want to move. But they made me leave and without a penny in my pocket at midnight I started all over again.

So, having this building looming around me actually helps me stay clean. When I look at it I can easily imagine what's going on on those two top floors and I sometimes shudder. One wrong move and I would be looking at my apartment from the grimy windows, wishing I hadn't got myself into a mess again.

Until next time

Great Article on Hopeful Triple Crown Horse Trainer Rick Dutrow Who battled Drug Addiction and the Murder of his Girlfriend.

Art

----------------
Listening to: The Clash - Jail Guitar Doors
via FoxyTunes

Beginning of the End

Ever since my boss and I had a disagreement about a month ago things have been going sort of downhill for me at work. First the argument. Then the Accident when I fell asleep at the wheel. Next, the screwed up order where I delivered an order which almost caused me to get fired by the store that contracts us, and lastly, the accident this past Saturday where the woman swerved into my lane because her's ended, and hit me. Not major just back fenders scraping each other. Well, on Sunday a claims adjuster asked me what happened. He was from the woman's company. Basically I said her lane ended and she swerved into me. When I told my boss, it was as if Mt. St. Helens blew again. All of these things that have happened over the past month came pouring out of my cell phone and into my sensitive ears and after 10 minutes I told him he was insulting me and to either fire me or call me back when he cooled down. He called but I ignored his calls thinking it was going to continue in that same direction. But, he left a message apologising and I talked with him about an hour later. We kinda ironed things out.

So today, I overslept. I hardly ever oversleep. So I was late for work and I knew I was needed immediately after my first route. There's an expression, there are no accidents. Maybe there's a deep rooted psychological resentment going on in my issue filled head.

So, today I was told he's going to hire another driver to help out because I have been working too much.
So it might be hard for me to make ends meet, it might not. We'll see.

Until next time

Art



----------------
Listening to: the jesus and mary chain - darklands
via FoxyTunes

Statistics Shmatitistics

One year. One whole year. It's an anniversary for me. A very special and probably one I should b e proud of. Big time proud of. You see, while I was in prison, countless conversations concerning the recidivism rate among convicts would come up. Sometimes with fellow inmates and sometimes with correction officers. While I was working as part of the landscaping crew, I had a talk with a sergeant concerning the revolving door of the CDC. He said that there was a 70% chance that I would be back, behind bars within a year. He then said he hoped I came back to that same prison so he could hire me again as a landscaper. There was no hint of sarcasm or kidding around. It's just the way it is. He felt I would definitely be back because of my crime and drug abuse history.
Well, I made it. 52 weeks ago I was released from Chino State Prison with only $200 and the clothes on my back. I couldn't go to Florida to get help from my family because I could not leave the state. Plus, I wouldn't want to go back there in the condition I was in. Needy.
I'm sure they would have been happy to see me but like fish, my presence would start to stink after 3 days. I would be asking for this and that and it would have been a drain on all of them.

So, if you've been reading, you have seen how I achieved the milestone of staying out of prison as a parolee for one year. It's been very rough. It would be real easy for me to just say fuck this, this is bullshit, and I just want to feel better through chemicals. I just saw this movie called Monster's Ball and at one point after her boyfriend/husband was executed by the state and her son died from in an alleged hit and run accident, she tells Billy Bob to make her feel better. Make her feel good. After being in so much pain she desperately wanted to feel good. And if you saw the movie, Billy sure helped her out as best as he could.

Even though I haven't experienced such tragic events in my life, I definitely identify with that feeling Halle Berry was having. Sometimes life is so frustrating, boring, inconvenient, and shitty that I long for a night out on the town, getting drunk and use that as a pressure release. But if I do that, I will be among the 70%ers. That is my struggle.

So this blog is dedicated to all of the people who have helped me throughout the year such as Mom, Jimmy, Johnny, Bonnie, Christian, Katie, My bosses Chris and Mari, BASN (Pap, James, Lannie, Earl) My PO officer Chew, All of the readers of this blog especially the one's who write comments which helps me move forward (sKillz, E, Angela, Alyssa, Marc, Jon, John, babz, old one's from Sue, and dirty dishes) in this struggle. It's just great to have some people in my corner rooting for me and helping me get off the stool for the next round.

It seems like all that bullshit over my being fired has blown over. The prick might have realized that it was his own catering mangers fault that he failed to inform us of the tables and tablecloths that were supposed to have been set up for the luncheon. So I saw him the other day and he just walked by me without a word. Not as a snub but more like ok lets just keep moving along here.

Hey, Stimulus check was posted to my bank account this morning. Very stimulating. Yay.

I wonder what the statistics are for parolees returning to prison after not returning for one year.

Until Next Time


Art
----------------
Listening to: We Are Scientists - Worth The Wait.
via FoxyTunes

Moving Right Along

I stole this Picture from babz she's on the right
This post is going to be what I call Frankicon-Lite
Things are better, I think. It turns out someone else was supposed to take care of that order that almost cost me my job. But I am not going to write about it anymore. It's really out of my hands.
My friend Alyssa came all the way from San Diego to visit. Well, not just me, but I have known her since the 8th grade. That's a long fucking time. We went to eat at the place that saved my life. Delancey Street Restaurant. If you click that link you'll find great reviews of the restaurant including mine. I only saw one person I knew from when I was there way back
in 2002. This guy was there for 3 years and walked out one day. Just got fed up. He wound up smoking crack and the last time I saw him on the street he was trying to sell some Visine he had boosted from a store. He looked horrible. About 110 lbs. So, I was surprised when I saw him last night. He went back and already is making plans to stay an extra 2 years. He also weighed about 220. Much healthier. We had a 4 course meal each and it was only 70 bucks with the tip. It was nice and Alyssa loved it too.

Here is a great radio show about America's unique take on justice. It's from Fresh Air and the interview is with a NY Times reporter. Very interesting. So if your not doing anything click here and play it. Then you can open a new window or tab and surf while it's in the background. Please listen. Also listen to this interesting story about a Dr. who graduated from Stanford and dropped out of the rat race and raised his 9 kids in a motor home. There is a documentary out called Surfwise about this amazing family who become surfers. Click here for that one. And if that interested you listen to this interview with a retired general who was in charge during the first year of the Iraq war. Scathing interview about the current administration. Click here.

I went to my Parole officer for my Urine test yesterday and we had a long discussion about things. He's going to try and get me off Parole next month. He really is a pretty good guy with lots of good advice, and believe it or not I kind of like him. He actually wants me to succeed. There are so many horror stories of rotten Parole Officers so I am blessed to have gotten him.
Man, I had to hold my urine for about an hour and a half because I can't stand it when I can't go and he's just standing there wa