I’ve spent so much of the last two columns denouncing the prison administration for its assorted violations of U.S. law and English grammar that I’ve barely said anything about what it’s like to live in prison. It’s really not too bad. Doing time is hardest on those with children, while I myself am putting off having kids until such time as I’ve acquired a fortified compound on which to train them. Certainly I miss some of my old friends from time to time, but, frankly, over the last couple of years I’ve gradually replaced them with far more interesting convict friends.
Each morning I get up around dawn-ish in the alcove I share with 11 other inmates, including an El Salvadoran people smuggler, a couple of Mexican gang members, a former Army major who held Top Secret clearance and whom I occasionally spy on for old time’s sake, and a guy called Outlaw.Read More