My Brush With Jail
I’ve not actually spent time in jail as an inmate, however, I had an experience at Walmart that has proven to be a little upsetting.
This happened right before I wrote this post. I had just finished editing the latest version of Linux News Log Season #10 Episode #03, and was running some errands while waiting for my file to finish rendering out.
I had a few items to buy, had them in my cart and was standing in the express check out line, when two guys got in line behind me. One was talking loudly and referring to everybody as “bro”. I was attempting to ignore them, since I was in a hurry.
The loud guy said “I should get my I.D. out and have it ready”, which he proceeded to do, and laid it down on the conveyor belt. The guy he was with said “That’s a terrible picture of you.” The loud guy said “That’s nothing bro, check this out!” He then proceeded to pull out his Arizona Department of Corrections Released Offender Identification Card and showed it to his friend. He then stuck it in my face. ”Check that out bro!”
I am instantly off-put, irritated, and angry. Loud guy is acting like it’s a badge of honor, like it is his “I’m a badass, I’ve been to jail” card, and that we should all worship him at his feet.
I do my best to act neutral and un-interested despite my near overwhelming urge to punch him as hard as I can for so overtly invading and violating my space. It suddenly completely strikes me how into himself this guy is and how completely oblivious he is to his surroundings and the effect he’s having on others. You’ve been to jail. Congratulations. I hope we never see each other again in my lifetime. I hope some day you get the better of whatever disease is now your Dark Sith Lord and Master, because if you don’t, it will kill you. Believe me, I know from up close and personal experience.
I proceed to go through the check out process and leave Walmart as quickly as possible so I can try to slow down the seething anger and rage that I’m on the verge of losing control over. Little does loud guy know that he’s acting like a bad ass to somebody who knows way more about the inner workings of the jail system in Arizona that your average person… He thinks it’s impressive, but in reality, there is nothing impressive about it. Even though I’ve never been in jail, I am a son to someone who has, and despite way more therapy and treatment than I’m willing to publicly admit to, my childhood still deeply affects me in ways that sometimes prove to be volatile and unpredictable.
It all happened when I was in 2nd through 5th grade. Dad was succumbing to his disease, there were five of us kids. One night, dad didn’t come home. He got busted. I won’t go into specifics here, but suffice it to say that his offense was way more than just drinking and driving. After that night, for the next few years, the only time I saw my dad was when Mom took me down to the Madison Street Jail here in Phoenix for visitation. He wrote a lot of letters to us kids. I still have them. I still vividly remember the screening process that the security guards at the jail followed to make sure you weren’t trying to smuggle something into the jail. As a child, it was really scary. Then once we got through the screening process and got to the room where I could actually see my dad, we weren’t allowed to come within three feet of each other and there was a big guard right there to make sure that nothing happened. Unfortunately, it was enough of a disconnect that nothing really did happen. During those years, Mom did what she could, but never really did make ends meet. Despite all the assistance programs out there, when you have 5 kids, its never enough. We spent a lot of time on the street while Mom was trying to make ends meet. Even after Dad was released, he was not allowed to be within 100 yards of us kids without a court appointed supervisor present. This went on for quite some time. It wasn’t until I was entering into Junior High that dad was finally allowed to stay at home and be with us kids without a supervisor. That whole thing is a giant source of anger and rage for me. It still pokes it’s head up from time to time like this evening when Loud Guy shoved his badge of dishonor into my face.
Fortunately, the judge and prosecutor had good enough judgement to order the entire family into treatment. If it had not been for that, I would be much worse off today than I am now, and for that I am thankful.
Dad did eventually clean up his life. All through my Junior High and High School years as well as early 20s, he was clean and sober and doing really good. I cherish those years. He was a dad. He was my dad, and he was actually there and present and involved. Life was great.
Then, he had a heart attack. He had lots of heart muscle damage and had triple bypass heart surgery. He never got the chance to ever fully recover from that, because shortly thereafter, his mother passed away. Since then, he’s suffered a bit of a relapse and is back in his disease of addiction. He’s also since had a multitude of heart and health issues over the past several years. Even worse, he doesn’t seem to want to get better. Of all things, that is the most painful. As a child, I knew what I wanted from him, but never really got to experience what I had missed, and now that I have, it hurts even more and has had the effect of throwing fuel on the fire of my own problems.
All the other kids have moved out of state, perhaps in hopes of escaping the inherent addiction chaos and starting anew. I am the last remaining hold out so to speak… I see to it that I at least see or do something with him every week in hopes of encouraging him to get better. My hope is that one of these days, Dad will once again be the dad he was when things were good, so he can then be a great dad to his children, and a grand-dad to his children’s children.
Unfortunately, I fear that my time to help is nearing an end, as his condition hasn’t done anything but get progressively worse.
I can only hope that he soon decides to best his Dark Sith Lord and Master, and when he does, I’ll be right there to support and help in any way that I can be of service.
