Friday seems to be an administrative moving day in and out of solitary. I go from newcomer to old timer every week. You can tell the seasoned "solitaries" because they have "list-marks" like "hash-marks" on their sleeves or a few tattoos for effect. Some have the toilet paper center "round" in their mouths as they jubilantly leave solitary. Alas, my sin is so great my societal offense so heinous; I must stay to be rehabilitated so I may one day exhibit the compassion of a Warden, the wisdom of a draconian Judge, and never again question the professionalism and integrity of an agency that itself is under investigation and is the only agency influenced if not paid by the brokers it monitors. In essence, the SEC is on commission. Sorry, for my venting slip-up. I'm going to do what any self-respecting inmate confined to solitary for no crime should do to show some respect; I will put a toilet roll center on my mouth with the bolted door closed and I will not say another word of complaint.
I finished another mystery novel. Now begins the struggle to get another reading book if I am to be here yet another weekend. I'll leave a written request. Who knows what wisdom or dialogue will follow. I have ceased requesting a phone call. I can't go higher than the Warden. After all, I did have seven more days before indignation is officially permitted despite prison regulations to the contrary.
Honestly, there are many lost historical figures in life who sacrificed more, their freedom and even their lives. But as far as I can research (and that's not in the law library) none of them had a Jewish wife in Boca Raton, Florida waiting for him. This will not be a supportive, "Donna Reed" type dialogue that I am anticipating. She wants this battle over. She has to live in a community of retirees who relish in gossiping about this type of unusual intrigue. That poor woman has to deal with that, while I am getting on "lists", consuming 700 calories daily, now walking around with a cardboard round in my mouth and living in a modern gray and white cell, accentuated by orange contemporary understated decor.
Today I must confess some optimism as well as fear. Am I to be released? Will there be a deposition? Can I see my grandchildren soon? Will my wife ever forgive me for being stubborn, and fighting for what’s right for us and other Americans in the future? Will I remember how to swing a golf club? Hey, maybe if I save my roll centers and paper Mache′ and put them together, I could at least make a putter.
Soon I will go downstairs to meet the attorneys. Will the Warden spring (wrong word) his telephone surprise then? Yet, he seemed so understanding when he took my note. We'll see...
What an amazing dialogue is going on as the inmates are packing and many of them are shipping out to other prisons. I am amazed to hear these prisoners proudly speaking of friends, family and neighbors in multiple prisons. They are talking about a prison riot last year where some men were killed. It was a Super Bowl event with some Mexican dudes having been killed. I don't remember reading about it. Yet their descriptions seem vividly similar. They are telling each other prison names like you or I would have our children speak of Ivy League colleges. This system has become self-serving. Who would say "selectively open the prison gates?" Today, I am saying that. Not for me, but for future generations in America. Remember that doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result is the true definition of insanity. This system defines insanity.
Insanity is truly what is happening here. Forget about my sarcastic, tongue in check, observations of a broken system. For people like us it's wasteful and broken. What happens when it breaks a person? What happens to that person's family and children? We in the Marine Corps used to say that we as a squad or platoon or company were only as safe and successful as the one member who broke silence or gave away our position. Our society is the same principle only larger. We should never forget that these forgotten children weigh on the future of our children's safety, tax base and sense of long term societal well-being.
My legal visit has just been announced. I don't mean to continue our laughing at the ridiculous, but sometimes when reality sneaks in, I must share it with you. But first, a little more of the bizarre. When an Attorney first arrives for a legal visit, the announcement is made – in my case, “ALTOMARE … LEGAL VISIT!!!” After that, it could be 10 minutes or two hours until the guards decide to get up and escort me, in cuffs, to the legal conference room. If you are paying your Attorney by the hour … I don’t think this insanity requires any further elaboration.
I swore to myself because I was feeling "blue" about not being released as expected today, that I wouldn't write in my diary tonight. But then showers came, and I couldn't contain myself.
Believe it or not, the new shower being repaired was the one I was sent into! I was initially impressed that it had been finished. As they put me in, I immediately noticed that there was no door, and therefore, visibly exposed to the stairs directly in front of it. I undressed and found it surprising that there was no place for soap, shampoo, or shaving gear; but without lights it didn't seem to matter. What did matter were three female guards that kept coming up and down the stairs while I showered. We did exchange glances. What I was most interested in was the water was actively flowing to the two foot square area one dresses in after they shower. The shower was slanted away from the drain! The dressing area was covered with at least three inches of water. Getting dressed in a totally wet area makes it impossible without soaking the bottom 10 or 12 inches of the legs to put on a jump suit, which you must lay down to step into. I had joked that I might never get to use that shower - I wish I hadn't. It astounds me that the number of wasted man hours could have created a slanted peep-show without a door, or lights to add to the eventual mold, water damage and complete re-do of the same shower in months - if the female guards allow it!
In the movie "Castaway", Tom Hanks created a character to speak to named “Wilson” out of a volleyball. I don't have a ball in this solitary cell, but I've been thinking about drawing a face on one of the toilet paper center rolls. It's an interesting idea if this unlawful incarceration extends, thus causing me to begin creating characters in the cell.
The four day Memorial Day weekend begins tonight and I tried to call to comfort my distraught wife due to the fact we thought this capricious abuse of power would be over by now. You guessed it - no phone access and none until next Tuesday. My disappointment is aggravated by the constant indifferent laughter and daily ineptitude of the guards. How disappointed I am now all the way to the top of the chain of command. This behavior is reprehensible, and the responsibility of these caretakers has been completely lost in the MMC. Tonight a phone call was all I needed to comfort and inform my family. Shame on them! Shame on this system! This diary speaks of only my challenges. Can you multiply this ineptitude and disregard throughout the country tonight? Tonight as a former Marine, I am disgusted with my country's poor handling of justice and decency.
Tonight I finished another mystery novel about a family that was distraught with the legal system. They had kidnapped all the characters that had beaten the legal system and conducted a trial, on worldwide TV mind you, convicted them and then the Federal Judge thanked them for correcting justices'