I'VE BEEN SERVED

My Daily Journal in Federal Prison

Day 7

When the nurse came by today to administer my meds, he confirmed what I had already feared was true.  That Doc that I met last Friday?  Wasn’t really the Doc…she was a Physician’s Assistant and could not authorize a medical clearance.  Furthermore, I would have to wait until this coming Friday to see a Doc and hopefully get cleared.  (I couldn’t fathom any reason why I wouldn’t be cleared…seeing that the dreaded hallucinations had not yet set in.  The only weird visions that I had was being locked up in a tiny bathroom with a stranger.  If only that was a hallucination.)

Tonight, I received a commissary slip which brought me a little joy.  Unfortunately, the goods would not be delivered until Thursday morning, but at least I would have something to which I could look forward.  This was a special “Hole”-only commissary slip and was not the full inventory that was available on the compound.  But, I would be able to purchase a radio as well as some stamps so that I could finally notify my loved ones of my whereabouts.  I also ordered some real shampoo, soap, and other hygiene products, and for the life of me I couldn’t figure out why they wouldn’t allow one to purchase DEODORANT in the SHU?  (whooooweeeeee…what’s up with dat?  what’s up with dat?)  What I really found humorous is that they offered exactly 3 snack items (peanut butter, saltines, and cookies), yet none of which you could actually KEEP in your cell…(whoooooweeeeee….what’s up with dat?  what’s up with dat?)  Does that mean you would have to hit the “distress” button every time you got hungry and the guard would then bring you something to munch on?

So, after ripping through “The Narrows” and “Hollywood Kryptonite,” I had to settle for the two Westerns that my homeboy quickly declared were dime-store trash.  I had never read a Western before and, I must confess, is one of those genres (in both literature and film) that held little interest for me.  I sort of equate it to my feelings for Country music.  But, with no other options, I chose the title that looked especially trashy hoping for at least an entertaining read.  This one was called “The Last Gunfighter: Imposter” by William W. Johnstone, who was proudly declared a USA Today Best Selling Author.  What kind of list is that???USAToday?  What else was on the list, Family CircleChicken Soup for the Soul?

Anyway, I’m embarrassed to admit that I was quickly drawn into this tale and I could now understand why this genre could be appealing to some.  These tales are essentially allegories for human emotion and behavior…and everything is mostly black & white.  The good guys wore white, the bad guys wore black…and the women always got kidnapped and raped.  And I’m only half-kidding about the women…what is UP with all the raping in these Westerns?  It was the one thing in this book that became a little hard to stomach after awhile, especially how it was almost casually discussed and assumed that it was something that the victims would simply “get over” at some point.  It was also rather astonishing how explicitly violent some of scenes were, with very graphic depictions of heads getting blown-up, knee-caps getting crushed, etc….yet, all the cuss words were censored with cutesy talk. USA! USA! USA!

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