Rabbit, addict and break in the rain cheer me up

Just came from a rotten meeting-- the last of its kind I will have to attend, fortunately-- where I felt, as usual, unappreciated and unsupported. Usually this kind of stuff doesn't bother me, but seeing as this meeting was the culmination of two year's work, a kind word without prompting would have been appreciated.

As I was packing up my car, a flash of brown caught my eye, and there it was: an adolescent rabbit with a white tail, stopped in its tracks, watching me askance to see what I would do. I greeted the rabbit, as is my wont with small creatures, and stayed in place until the rabbit felt safe to hop into the brush. Took a little edge off my "Get me out of here!" silent scream.

A significant amount of power steering fluid had leaked out of my car during the meeting (ongoing problem I haven't had the money to fix). I could still go straight but sharp turns would require an amount of strength I felt lacking after the meeting. Unfortunately it takes two people to get my hood open, one to push down on the hood while the other pulls on the hood release, so a few miles down the road I pulled into Auto Zone to see if I could find a kindly person to help me. (Usually I ask my sister in the morning, but today she'd left the house before me.)

A small brown man was sitting in his car, waiting for someone to come out of the store, and I approached him and asked if he could do me a favor. Guardedly, he asked what the favor was, but when I explained, he was happy to help.

"No man should turn down a woman in need," he said.

I like your bumperstickers," he said, approaching my car. "Do you live in Amherst?"

"Springfield born and bred. In fact, I lived in that house, right over there, for thirty years."

"I just got out of rehab," he said. "I caught myself early and was lucky to get right in."

He insisted on adding the power steering fluid for me and we had a little political talk.

What he said:
-- These kids out there, dealing drugs, they barely know it's wrong.
-- Ludlow jail is so crowded, people were sleeping in the halls when I was there.
-- Why can't they sentence kids to school, or job training?
-- I've just got to keep praying, and I know I'll be all right.
-- I've got a good family, I never stole from them, and they're here for me.

I told him a bit about Arise, and he asked if we took people who have to do community service for the courts. I said we certainly did, and he should come down, meet everybody and sign up.

So now I'm at Arise, feeling much more centered, much more blessed, as I wait for everyone to arrive for our first tenants union meeting.

Ludlow prison hangs himself: drug users should not be in jail!

Kevin J. Small of Westfield, Massachusetts hanged himself Tuesday at the Hampden County Correctional Center. Mr. Small's suicide was the third at the Ludlow facility in the last five years.

Don't blame the jail, though, at least according to spokesman Richard McCarthy: Mr. Small's unit wasn't overcrowded, rounds of his unit had been done every thirty minutes as required, and the screening given him at admission did not indicate he was suicidal.

Mr. Small was on the 14th day of a 90 day sentence for possession of drugs.

So much wrong with this picture it's hard to know where to start, but let's start with what should be obvious: drug addiction is not a criminal justice problem, it's a public health problem.

Pro-incarceration supporters point to a drop in violent crime as reason enough to continue with our current "get tough" policy.

But consider this:

• 60% of federal prisoners are drug offenders.
• Only 3% are violent offenders.
• Drug offenders in country jails are not violent offenders.
• It costs 15 times as much as treatment to run a drug addict through the criminal justice system to achieve the same reduction in costs to society.
• Fewer than half of the more than five million drug users who desperately need treatment are able to get it. Drug Policy Alliance.

The United States now has the dubious distinction of incarcerating more of its citizens than any other country in the world-- one out of every 99.1 people for a grand total of 2,323,000 individuals. Are we really so much more rotten than the people in Chile, Russia, Pakistan, Switzerland, Turkey, Australia and the Philippines? Do we as a society really so lack imagination that this is the best we can come up with?
Photo by Still Burning.

Quitting cigarettes

Just so you know-- I am somewhere in the process of quitting smoking-- haven't had a cigarette since a week ago today-- and have the attention span of a gnat. Should be able to blog again this weekend.

My sister and I took last week's long weekend to lock ourselves away so we could watch each other like hawks and quit together.

As Mark Twain said, "Quitting is easy. I've done it a thousand times." Actually, my attempts at quitting have always stayed in the realm of intentions. In 42 years!!! this is the longest I've gone without smoking. At my age, I don't expect quitting to add much time to my life, but it will certainly add to my self-respect.

Don't know if its because of detoxifying or what, but I'm waking up five and six times a night-- look at the clock, go back to sleep-- and lots of dreams but haven't remembered any.

Anyway, I will stop boring people now with this saga.