I was down with OPP, do you know me?

Yeah, I've been to the big house, the slammer, the crowbar hotel, the Orleans Parish Prison, the joint, , the plate factory, the final mile, the freezer, the Florida State University, the calender shop, up the river, what have you, do you feel me?

What I'm saying, is I've been to a place that you don't ever want to be, and I ain't ever going back. I'm here to tell it like it is, and scare you straight.

It starts innocently enough with one little dot...  And then another dot, and then they connect. Before you know it, you're on your way to a whole constellation of consternation.  

Skateboarding is not a crime...

Or is it?

One important thing to realize is this happened a long time ago, and I have been rehabilitated.

Carrying my skateboard across Jackson Square, "what the heck" put down the board, one lazy push, BUSTED!  As I was handed my ticket, the kindly officer told me to plead not-guilty, and the ticket would be thrown out.

My day in court came, and I did as I was instructed. Then the judge asked, "Well were you riding your skateboard?" 

Faced with explaining how I might have been doing the thing I plead not guilty to doing, I stammered, "not guilty".

Exasperated, he asked me again, and again I stammered, "uh, not guilty?" Clearly irritated, he gave me another court date and sent me away.

I left town a while later, and came back in 6 months, having forgotten all about it.

Christmas eve, after finishing a very long very difficult job, I was pulled over and sent to jail for my skateboarding warrant. My bail was set at $1000. 

I called my then girlfriend, who's reputation I will not taint with my criminal past, and began the 36 hour process of attaining liberty.

Mostly it's waiting. First there's the big room. boring. Well, they did drag a bloody screaming woman past and put her in a cell... Then more boredom. I struck up a conversation with a young man. I said, "I am an artist! what is it that you do?!"  He replied, "I'm a thug".  "Oh", I said. More waiting.  A tray of crappy sandwiches came along. Eating can be a good way to pass the time, but then, there's the issue of those truly public, public toilets. I didn't have many sandwiches...

After an eternity they rounded us up and took us to a room.  

"LINE UP AND STRIP TO YOUR UNDERWEAR!" The guy barked.

I raised my hand..."Uh, what if you're not wearing any underwear?"

"IT'S OK WHITE BOY! WE WONT LAUGH AT YOUR LITTLE DICK!"

So there I am.

And they toss us our uniforms, nurse pants, and shirts, except for some people got shirts that said Florida State University, with OPP silk-screened on top.

Then...

"Uh, Sir?"

"WHAT!"

Uh, my pants don't have a zipper or a button."

"WHAT DO YOU THINK THIS IS BOY, A TAYLOR SHOP! TIE IT SHUT WITH YOUR SHOELACE!"

I'd always thought that they took your laces away, so you didn't commit suicide.  I guess they figured I'd choose the dignity of wearing pants over the relief of hanging myself.

So I tied my pants shut, sort of. I could only tie them shut at the top, so my genitals kept popping out. When I was in my cell, I was having a conversation with a prisoner on the other side of the bars. He's like, "Oh, your, uh," and gestured downward. "Oh, excuse me", and I tucked myself back in. It was so casual and civilized, like if you were at a party, and someone told you that you had a crumb stuck in the corner of your mouth. Jail is a surprisingly civil place, inmate wise. Nobody shanked me or anything. My cellmate related all kinds of inspiring stories of his glory days in crime. Dinner came, and everyone was so excited to find out that we'd be having black eyed peas! 

I'm not trying to say that jail isn't so bad, only that while I was there, the people didn't seem so bad, and it really gave me the sense that incarceration, at least at these lower levels, is based on dumb luck more than ridding the streets of dangerous bad people.  The bigger, more important lesson I learned, was how important freedom is, on an instinctual gut level. Being in there was like smothering. The need for freedom feels similar to the need to take a breath. 

My message to the masses is this. The man is watching you, so don't smoke any doobies, or do anything else that gives him an easy way to grab you and mark you. It's impossible to be subversive if you let yourself become easy prey. I will cuss out anyone who loses their right to vote over a stupid law. Abide the stupidest laws the most, because those are the laws that Republicans use to rip the dicks off of Democrats.