November 28, 2008

I Love You, Boo

Friends,

Lately, I've been thinking about the interactions between the imprisoned and the free more than I ever have before.

Did you know that those imprisoned always need money? For all kinds of things, like cigarettes and television, but also craft sales. So, if a person in prison isn't asking you for money then they haven't been there that long.

And, being in prison is a little like Valentine's Day. Let me explain. On Valentine's Day, that's kind of the national day where people sort of nudge guys and remind them that it might be a good idea to show the person you're with that you care about them by more than just waving your farts away from them for an evening. So on Valentine's Day, there's candy, jewels, and love, oh lots of love. The I Love Yous flow like a river, you know. Same with prison communications. They love, love, love, love those people on the outside. Oh god do they love them and miss them and just want to be with them so much...and ain't nobody mad any anybody...sure you may have pulled a gun on that guy at the bar, but he was a total douchebag, and baby, honey, boo, I love you, I miss you, please be strong, come home....and I'll send that money right away. So, I sort of get the bad boy thing with women now because once that dumbfuck beau in his dress-up bandanna gets a year in the pokey for a parole violation, his lucky lady on the outside will have never felt so loved by her man ever.

And this whole thing got me thinking, if I ever go to jail for any amount of time, I don't know anyone who would tell me that they loved me or give me money. Even my mom would say, "Goddamn, Pook. What the fuck?" and that's about the extent of the conversation. No love there. And yes, my mom calls me Pook...because it's manly. I wouldn't expect any of my friends to do anything but taunt my imprisoned ass, in fact I know several that would only taunt me. I'd get letters about how they spent the day in the park or running after an ice cream truck and I'd get pictures of them on swings or driving a car or having sex with a lady, things I couldn't do in jail. And I know nobody would give me money because they'd be so disappointed in me and every time I told Emily or anyone that I missed them, loved them, and baby please come see me on Wednesday, I know they would say, "Well, dipshit, you should have thought of that before you robbed that guy."

So I think you might understand my confusion as why the free people are so bend-over-backwards nice for those imprisoned. They are in prison...they fucked up badly, and you're probably being nicer to them now than you ever were when you both were free? What the hell is that about?

But, maybe I should temper these thoughts. Because, maybe there's a lot of people in jail that are kind of like Nicolas Cage from Con-Air, you know, saving his girl with his deadly, deadly hands, or Andy Dufrense being wrongly convicted or like that guy from Half Baked who fed all that stuff to a police horse. You know, lovable prisoners who may not necessarily deserve the prison time they're getting. But, anyway, even if I did pull a Nic Cage and whomped some dudes to death with my feet, I still can't imagine anyone I know gushing over me while I did my time next to Wey Bey and Avon.

viva el mustache

5 comments:

The Mighty Flynn said...

Prisons are fucked up places, and a lot of decent people end up in them because of one mistake. Sometimes the mistake isn't even theirs.
http://www.northcountrygazette.org/2008/11/25/dna_frees/

Emily said...

I wouldn't send you money. I would send you a nice big chocolate cake ;)

Bryan said...

Tom, I hear you, innocent people do get thrown in jail, but that's still the minority.

And I know I glossed over the innocents and sort of assumed that everyone who's in jail deserves it, and I know that's not the case, but something tells me my motivation for causing me to even think about these prison communications has nothing to do with innocent people.

Jorge said...

This is my promise, Bryan:
If you go to jail, for whatever reason, I'll write you letters and tell you that I love you. And I'll enclose a five dollar bill that I had a hooker kiss with wet lipstick so it looks all romantic. Then, when you go to buy some smokes, or to pay the dude in your cell not to make you a man, you can look like a hot-shit.

The Mighty Flynn said...

I think even guilty prisoners deserve sympathy and love from family and friends when they're in a place where they need it most. When you can't see or talk to a person, all that's left is written communication, so I don't see why it would surprise you that the emotion in prison communication tends to be extreme. It's an extreme situation, after all.