November 22, 2004
So get this. I go down to register as a Narcotics Offender, all the way downtown at Parker Center. My Parole Officer had said "Get there early" but I also thought she said it was open from 10-4, which didn’t seem so early to me, but I got there at 11. I find out I’m too late. TOO LATE. That office is open from 4 AM to 10 AM. I SWEAR THIS IS TRUE.
I cannot, for the life of me, understand why this is the case. I will ask tomorrow, but I won’t hold my breath for an answer. There was probably a good reason for it 40 years ago and it has just stayed that way because that’s the way it is. The Criminal Justice System (and it is CRIMINAL) doesn’t do change well, and common sense and efficiency it doesn’t do at all. And talk about encouraging meth use! Those are perfect tweeker hours!
So did I just break down in tears? No I did not. Your intrepid Outmate Olmsted walked up to Disney Hall and just gaped at the phenomenal architectural marvel wrought by Frank Gehry. Then he went to two exhibits at the Museum of Contemporary Art, and allowed himself to be completely inspired. Then he "discovered" the most charming used book store called Caravans, and bought the Memoirs of William Shirer (Vol. I. 1903-1930) from the $1.95 bargain bin. Then he had some tacos at the Food Court at the Macy’s Plaza, and got on the bus back home, where a few phone calls led him to the happy news that his private disability will be picking up the monies deducted by Social Security during his incarceration. Outmate O will be able to buy a new computer and start paying his Mom back for the gazillions spent on his behalf in this debacle.
I now am going to commence work on a new chef d’oeuvre: an assemblage of all the stamps on all the letters I received in prison. Yes I kept them all. It’s all about scissors and glue and patience, but it is going to be beautiful, even if it doesn’t hang in MOCA, (although may I just point out that that can be read a Marc Olmsted Creates Art.)
And tonight, dinner with a friend to catch up. I know all of this is rather banal, but for me it was all stuff I never could do in prison, and very rarely did when the drugs took over my life. I’m finally engaging again with the world, in a way I wanted to very badly and it’s very gratifying.
So tomorrow I start on a 3000k Walk Across America to raise money for---just kidding. Tomorrow I register as a Narcotics Offender, before 10 am, and then rush back here because my Parole Officer is supposed to show up and make sure I’m not living in a crack house. I’m tempted to lay out some Sweet & Lo on a mirror, but I don’t think she’d appreciate the attempt at humor.
I’ll just offer her a V-8. And spike it with Finlandia. JUST KIDDING.
MCO 2004
(I sent Mark this letter last month. Since it is about the blog, he asked me to post it here as a "guest blogger." I'm so happy that he can now read it again on the outside.)
October 27, 2004
Dear Mark,
With the birth of Emily (#4), I became permanently behind in life, so I spend all my time trying to catch up and wishing that I could be caught up, and envying people who are caught up.
Before Emily, if I had had a friend in prison writing a blog, I would have been up to date every night! I could have quoted whole passages. (So, you’re thinking, I knew there was a reason why I should have done this earlier.) To ameliorate this dreadful situation, from time to time I come up with a handy dandy idea. These include setting up my pants each night inside my shoes, firefighter-style, to save time the next morning, allowing each child only three minutes per day to speak to me, reducing the shopping list to its bare essentials – coffee, bagels, and cream cheese, throwing out clothes and dishes when they get dirty, and carrying a printed copy of the blog around with me to read while waiting for a child at a lesson, sitting in a doctor’s office, grabbing a sandwich between meetings, etc. All right, I made up the first four.
Thus, I am pleased to report that even though you haven’t gotten out much lately, your blog has. Let’s see, he came to the Caribbean last month when I took Jonathan and Diana (#s 1 and 2) to a science research program on the island where my aunt and uncle have a hotel and he came to Charleston, SC last weekend to see old college friends. He just loved the South.
Bloggy frequently comes to Bronxville, where Diana sees a speech and language therapist, but the prices annoy him when we shop. Oh, and Bloggy went into the city yesterday for my annual (his first) mammogram and bone density tests. (He agreed, by the way, that the brouhaha about how uncomfortable mammograms can be is just silly, but, like me, Bloggy is pretty well endowed. Maybe the flat-chested ones have more trouble…)
Of course, Bloggy was a little annoyed when I left him in my car overnight once, but hey, I’m not perfect. He hardly said a word to me the whole next morning, even after I brought him that special coffee that he likes. Jeez, what a hothead.
Sometimes he comes to James’ (#3) karate class, but it’s too crowded and noisy for me to concentrate on him there. Moreover, he’s so frustrated by not being able to get out there on the mat with the other kids that it’s really not worth it.
Oh, we had such a row the other night over a PTA meeting. Bloggy complains that I never take him and refuses to accept the idea that a PTA meeting is for parents, human ones. He can be so pig headed! But, of course, you know that. I did say that he could come trick-or-treating this weekend, but he’s still miffed. Which reminds me, I need to work on his costume. I promised him that he could go dressed as the Farmer’s Almanac. Now where in the world am I going to get that costume in such a small size?
Well, enough of that hilarity. Hey, did you ever get the dictionary that I sent? Amazon notified me that Chino bounced the thesaurus back to them without indicating a reason. They were on the same order, but luckily, Amazon shipped them separately, so hopefully the dictionary made it through. Maybe the good Sergeant intercepted it to look up some of the words you used…
No need for me to ask what’s new. Thanks to Bloggy, I already know! On a serious note, only a few weeks to go. I am so happy for you. Of course, I also worry about whether you have a workable plan for when you get out so that history does not repeat itself. Haven’t seen much of that in the blog, but maybe you don’t want to hash it out in front of the full readership. Certainly understandable.
Well, it’s almost midnight. Time to go to bed, get out the ‘ole Itty Bitty Lite, and see what Bloggy has been up to. I’m only about a week behind now. Not too bad.
Love,
Ellen