Wednesday, August 29, 2007

..[ day fifteen].. is there anything more to say?

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Of course there is ....

Today was an interesting morning. I have been told in a message by my CCO, “Your are homeless you are to report every day the the DOC office!” With that command, regardless of the fact they are the ones controlling my homelessness, I went to the office as directed. That was the interesting part, for I like to get affirmations of my “perceptions.”

When I walk into the office, the first thing I am old to do by the duty officer, which is the same thing asked of me yesterday when I went to my weekly chick-in, the daily duty officer (one of my ex CCO's) tells me “empty your pockets and put your bag in the office next to mine.”

It appears they are very sensitive. Since last year I become very frustrated with CCO's putting whatever they wanted into the chrono-logs, many things that were not said, or where improper reflections of what did happen in the office with me. So I did what may people have done to police officers who are acting improperly, I started tape recording various meetings. Of course since this state has the tightest Privacy Act in the country, I was very well versed in the law that I could tape record a non-private communication with only the permission of one person. DOC highly offended, by me recording them, violated me for 90 days, saying I broke a law. I am still waiting for the DOC Regional panel to render a decision on the appeal I filed now over two months ago. I venture that they are hesitant, to relinquish the power that they have, to make a ruling that will be challenged and will ultimately lose in the courts.

After I emptied my pockets, I walked into the office and the CCO said out loud, “So you said you had a recording device in your pocket?” Quickly spanning my surroundings, I saw through my peripheral vision and directly several vultures surrounding the room in anticipation of my answer, as if I was in a show down at “OK corral”, I felt the lynch mob was waiting for my answer with baited breadth.

“Ha!” I claim, “G, I said have you heard in regards to the appeal I filed about the tape recordings.”

As in the in the movies, the crowd began to slowly disperse, and I see through my peripheral vision that the hang loose was disappointingly being removed.

How do you know when you are dealing with a predator? It is in their eyes and in their whole demeanour when they have successfully come to their preys weakest moment.

As I sit in this CCO's office, the next exchange reminds me, that I have entered a predators office. With a poster of James Dean as the only posting in his office, ironic to me considering the many trysts in out of homosexuality this icon made, this daily duty officer asks me several mundane questions that lead to a redraw.

“So your staying at the UGM?”

“Yes.” I answer.

“And of course you have verification?” He states while his body language and his fingers begin tp move to the front of his chair, with a now pouncing position, he is ready for the if I garnish him the answer his eyes tell me wants.

“Yes.” I answer thinking, Wow this guy is with bated breadth wants to arrest me.

“And of course, that is in your bag?” As we moves back into his chair.

“Yes.” I answer, self assured that I will not be on this predators dinner plate.

“Well of course, you left that in your bag right? Knowing that I would want it, you just left it in you bag?” He says sounding irritated.

Wait, wasn't it was him who told me to take everything out of my pocket? Wasn't him who told me to move my bag to an adjoining office?

I am be beginning to think that maybe these DOC folks feel they have to act like a predator so that they can enhance public safety. Perhaps DOC thinks that if they make people homeless, drive them crazy with dominion, make them feel like they are trapped in their cage, that they will come to their total submission?

Perhaps they have learned too much?

Perhaps like bulldogs, who are trained to kill by placing them in a cage, the school of DOC has figured out the real way to perpetuate hysteria is to deteriorate every element of self worth that a person has?

But in all fairness, perhaps, I am totally wrong and like a polygrapher told me once, “Mr. Homelessness I do not understand why you will not sign this form, 100,000 other people have?”

My answer was and still is the same, “My name is Mister Homelessness, glad to meet you.”

This all leads to a story that outlines the self imposed affirmation I received when I was young: once while in seventh grade, walking back from the Boys Club with my best friend, he reached into his pocket and pulled out what I later found out to be a joint. As he lit it and took a deep lip pursing drag and while he held his breadth, then began to release the smoke slowly he handed it to me, as if I knew what to do with it? “What the hell is that?” I asked, starting to smell something that was quite different that my mom's pack of Kools. Seeing him begin to bend over slightly and cough he proclaimed to me:

“It's a joint, don't always be such a square, try it!”

“Nah, that's ok.” I replied, I actually thought being a square, meant I followed the rules and that was okay? "Ah c'mon, your such a sissy."

He knew that was the one word that would make me mad! I hated being called that! But, I just kept the feeling inside, after all he was my protector at school, he was bigger than me, and without him who would I have to protect me?

"Nah." I said, waiting for his smart-ass response, but instead he just looked at me, "Yeah, your a sissy that's why I kick everyone's butt for you."

Can't argue with that, can you?

Everyday that the DOC tests me for drugs, sometimes every week, I remember that day when I so proudly believed that being a square was something that meant I followed the rules. I smile each time I go into the bathroom and watch these perfectly unfamiliar men, stare at my genitalia. In my thoughts I call them 'penis watchers' and I sometimes think of the strangeness of men watching other men in bathrooms, and how far off this is not, from what in the gay world we term as "penis gazers". This is not an affectionate term! I also think I would have nightmares if I had to do that as a job.

I guess I am a square.

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