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Hey John!

How's it going on your side of the line? Not too much different here. So I'll just get to answering your questions.

The reason I spent my last month in confinement (out of the 12 I was in jail), could be answered with the simple reply that I had a couple of guys in my dorm accuse me of threatening to kill someone. But that would leave out all the interesting details that led up to such a stupid incident that ruined my rather smooth flowing little business. And all over a .20 cent soup pack and a couple of jealous inmates. So, let's go back to the beginning.

In the beginning, God created the heaven and the earth. And the earth was without... Hold on! Not that far. Okay, here we go. After about a month or two in jail, I had gotten pretty well settled down, I had gotten to know a few of the others who weren't just passing through and they had gotten to know me. So while talking with this one guy, he mentioned that I should start running a grocery store. You see, in jail you only get one day out of the week to put in an order from the canteen list and the next day you get your stuff. Seems simple enough, but these guys can't seem to understand how to plan ahead for an ENTIRE week. Nor do they know how to budget their money. Like one guy explained to me later, "I just like to walk up to your cell, pick out what I want right then & there and then just pay you back on canteen day. Even if it does cost me 1 1/2 times as much". So basically, if a guy had gotten $4.00 worth of stuff through the week, I would make him a list for $6.00 worth of stuff that I knew would sell and give it to him on order day. It all seemed to make sense when the guy who originally gave me the idea mentioned it. So naturally my first question was, "Well, if it works so great, why aren't YOU doing it?" He said, "Because I don't have the willpower that I've noticed you have; you're a real tightwad with your money. I'd just keep eating all my inventory. And I wouldn't do good at the book work required to know what and how much to reorder." So I started with a $3.00 resealable bag of coffee mix, got $4.50 worth of stuff the next week, got $6.75 worth of stuff the next week (I hope I don't have to explain any farther for you to understand). So now about 9 months later I'm living high on the hog, I always had 3 garbage bags full of canteen at the start of the week and everything was going great. Then one day 2 guys come into my cell with a soup already in their hands. What they wanted was to trade their soup for one of mine of a different flavor.
#1) I wasn't sure what their package had been through, #2) I wasn't going to get any profit. So my reply was "No". They went away a bit uptight, but I figured the situation was over.

Now it's 10pm, lock down time has been called and I'm finishing my canteen lists to give to the guys tomorrow. Suddenly a sergeant & 2 officers walk into our dorm. The officers have a clipboard and go one way while the sarge walks straight to my cell, tells the other 5 guys to go stand out in the day room and then turns back to me. I'm standing there in total bewilderment as the sarge says, "Look, you can either hand me over the shank that you've got or I'm going to go all through your stuff and find it myself." I take a couple of steps back, slowly raising my hands to about shoulder level and say, "Look, I'm not trying to be a smart-ass here or anything, but what's a shank?" (Remember, new kid on the block). He replies, "It's a homemade blade; a knife." I drop my hands and say, "Oh, I ain't got nothing like that. You can go through my stuff all you want." And that's exactly what he does, leaving no stone unturned. He's finally finished his search and here comes the other two officers with the clipboard explaining that none of the signatures on the form match those of the inmates. It dawns on me what's going on. Someone has written a kite stating that I've threatened to kill someone with my shank. So if they can make it look like a bunch of guys signed it out of fear for their well being, I'll get kicked out of the dorm. (Gee, I wonder who would want to do that?) So the sarge looks at me and says, "Obviously somebody wants you out of here pretty bad." He reaches for his cuffs and I say, "Hold on! You didn't find anything. Why do I have to go?" He says, "Because when you take into consideration what you're being accused of and what you're in prison for, I'd be nuts to leave you here. I've got to put you in confinement."

So I got taken to a one man cell with my own sink, toilet and shower. But I lost my income from my store and other privileges like T.V., 30 min basketball court time, phone and room to walk around. Here in prison, running a grocery store doesn't seem to be that effective of a hustle, because a guy can go to canteen 3 times a day.

As far as the difference between jail & prison goes, naturally you have more mobility and room in prison. You also have things like: classes, rec yard, library, better food, larger canteen and better visitation conditions. I guess if you were a REAL hermit and just wanted to sit in your cell all day, then the county jail would be the place to go since you aren't required to get up, make your bunk and go to your assigned job or rec yard. Unfortunately, at the same time, having more mobility also increases your chances for trouble with other inmates and officers. So there is a price to pay. Even though I consider myself a bit of a hermit in this place, I still would want to spend my years in here rather than the county jail.

Okay, now to your closing questions.

#1. I have tried to remain as much like Eric Wilkes in here as I was in the streets. I don't have the desire to change my ways so I can fit in with THIS crowd. But any guy who changes from the life of a free man to the life of a prisoner, with the understanding that he is going to live in there for the remainder of his life, will definitely make SOME changes. Like I said before, I have turned into a bit of a hermit. One reason for this is because I have found it tough to relate with a lot of these guys; not only with their ideas on the way to act, but also just trying to understand what the heck they're saying. Another reason is due to the lack of respect that I'm treated with by both inmates & officers. I just want to stay away and do as little communicating as possible. Whereas, out on the streets I was always the talker; looking to get attention all the time.

I have also had to change in my way of accepting people. A real good example is in the area of homosexuals. Out on the streets, like in college, if I came near a homo I would just go the other direction. But here in prison you don't decide what table you eat at or who your bunky is in your 7' x 10 1/2' cell. So I've learned to communicate with these people and treat them with the same respect as anyone else. I just let them know, "I'll respect you for who YOU are and you respect me for who *I* am. And that's a straight guy who has absolutely no interest in the male anatomy."

I really seem to have set aside the happy-go-lucky side of me as well, due to the fact that practically everything I say will almost always be taken the wrong way. I many times compare my new life to that of Charles Emerson Winchester III on the hit series M*A*S*H (I love that show). The way he talked and compared himself to the others at the 4077th is exactly how I feel sometimes.

#2. As I stated in my previous messages, the main thing to take into consideration is the location of the prison. (What state do you live in?) There might be a FEW prisons in Florida that operate in the manner you're referring to. But basically, Florida is pretty well known for not having issues of that nature to really be worried about. Don't get me wrong. We have guys involved in gangs and we had a stabbing just a few weeks ago that was drug related. But these aren't the guys who are in control of the camps like they are up north. So it's not that tough for me to avoid it down here.

#3. I would like to be able to say that after all these years I've dropped the whole macho/tough guy show, but I would be lying. I'm still always thinking in the back of my mind that I have to appear tougher than everyone else. But since I more than likely wouldn't be able to back up any threats in the physical realm, I have had to use my words in a strategic manner to work on the minds of any guys wishing to treat me in a negative manner. One of my most effective macho characterizations came about during my 1st week in the prison system. My bunky was a guy who had already been down for 10 years, worked in the law library, spoke English and Spanish and had that ability to get along with everybody. After getting to know me for a few days, he said, "Man, you're too nice a guy. We've got to do something to get you a name that these guys will have a reason to fear or you'll end up getting taken for." Me: So how do we do that? Him: We have to get a rumor about you started. Me: Like what? Him: I don't know yet. Give me a little time to think about it. (15-20 min. pass by and then he sits up on his bunk) Him: I've got it! We're going to make you a serial murderer. Me: Give me a break. (I walk over to the mirror) I don't look like a serial murderer. Him: That's what they said about Ted Bundy. (I take another look into the mirror) Me: Hmmm. You've got my interest; keep talking. Him: First we get all the details set, making sure to never make any changes. Then, we simply start talking a little too loud in the wrong places. Me: And you think it will spread around enough to have any kind of a real influence? Him: This is prison, dude; it'll spread like wildfire. Plus, with all the guys I know and the others I talk with at the library; oh yeah, anybody thinking of bothering you will definitely take a second thought.

So after a few days of coming up with this and deciding on that and then ordering a book in the mail entitled: Serial Murderer, my new identity was ready to be hatched. After reading through the book, we agreed that of the 4 different types of S.M., I would do best as a power control killer. The book had a dark black cover with the title in blood red that looked like it was oozing down. I had highlighted certain lines with a marker and made a few weird type notes next to certain paragraphs. I'd always have that book laying around my cell to catch guys' attention. And I usually kept a few papers laying around, one of which was a copy of my face sheet from the county jail when I was first arrested. I don't know if you can look that up on the internet (Pinellas County, Florida, 2001) but believe me, my prison face sheet doesn't compare with it. After coming in and talking for a little bit, a guy would see it and say, "My God, is that you?" It did good at taking away any doubts of what I was portraying myself to be. Anytime a guy would walk up and say something about hearing that I was an S.M., I would start glancing around like I was worried and say, "Look, man, I don't know what you're talking about. I'm in for one account of 1st degree murder, that's all. You can even look me up on the internet. They can't ever prove that I murdered those other 12 people." And I'd just keep on going like I was all worried that I was being found out until the guy would be like, "Alright, man, take it easy. I just thought I heard something. Don't worry, I ain't gonna say nothing." So within a while I could be standing in a line and overhear guys going, "Hey, there's that S.M. I told you about. Man, I wouldn't want to get on his bad side." It was great to use during my first 8 years at my first camp, but it didn't seem necessary to push the issue when I changed camps. Plus, when I arrived at my 2nd camp & they searched through my stuff, they saw my book and confiscated it. I guess it looked a little too disturbing for them.

Well, I hope my answers were able to inform you of the few things you had an interest in and I thank you for the compliments in regards to my writing. I've been trying to think of some other situations that have occurred that I could include in my blog post. But naturally things are only interesting the 1st time they happen. Write back soon.

Maze