Yes ma’am, we prisoners are required to wear masks – which of course, are provided for our use. How do I feel about that? Well, truth is, I hate wearing a mask – but, I am forced to do so, so, I’ll find the positive in it. What could possibly be positive about being forced to wear a surgical mask? Well, the obvious of course, is that it helps reduce the spread of the Corona Virus, but beyond that I have found some other benefits as well. Let me share them with you.
First, let me remind you that I’m in a man’s prison and the cheapest commodity to feed a bunch of hungry men is … yep, Beans. This of course perpetuates an overabundance of flatulence … for you Hillbillies that’s farting. In fact, its almost impossible to walk around the cellblock without stumbling into an area that hasn’t been crop dusted with gas, and even worse is when you’re sitting and watching TV and out of nowhere somebody does a Drive-by … But – the good news is: since I’m always wearing a mask, well, its better.
One of the things you should know about me is, I do a lot of walking, more on that later. I do the brunt of this walking inside my cell-block – round and round I go, its a 116 steps a lap. I also do a lot of meditating to include the use of mantras like “Perdurabo” or the I repeat the names of my children and grandchildren, or the classic “OM”. With this said, anyone who practices the art of mantras knows that saying them out loud helps with the affect. My point is this: when wearing a surgical mask I can walk around and, due in equal part to the constant noise, speak my mantras into existence, and, when saying the “OM”, benefit from the sound vibration produced by the activating the vocal cords. That’s a huge benefit to wearing a mask – I can walk around and talk to myself, and no one notices! Another positive benefit is that when wearing a mask it mostly covers the fact that I dislike to shave. And how about this … if I decide not to brush my teeth … I just pull my mask up high and nobody knows. AND, if you’ve been eating burritos the night before, you just put your mask on and hop up on the throne and all is good. My point is, if you look hard enough you can always find the positive even in something which on the surface seems to be negative.
I’ve told you before – I do a lot of walking. I’ve developed the mindset, that when unoccupied I will not allow myself to sit – I’ll get up and walk. I’m weird that way – and I get down on myself if I don’t find something productive to do. Of course I write, I draw, I paint, I meditate and in-between, I walk and while walking I talk to myself, all things I consider productive. No, I watch some TV, but I won’t sit and just watch any damn thing out of boredom and I won’t watch something I’ve seen before, unless it’s really good like Forrest Gump, Braveheart or something with lots of females in bathing suits 😉 I guess what I’m saying is that I try to keep my mind and my body occupied on what “I” deem healthy things. Even with a Life Sentence I refuse to just sit down and die – plus I’ve been blessed with good health and a sound mind, it’d be a sin to neglect my them.
I walk so much that it’s become part of my routine. If someone doesn’t know my name they can always say, “You know, the guy who walks all the time” that’s me.
Awhile back one of the guys came up to me and handed me a Pedometer. Wow! I was so happy. Immediately I clipped it on and began to walk, stopping periodically to see how far I had walked.
Eyes and Kilometers
As you know, when you grow older, your vision begins to dim, well, in that department I’m no different. At about 50 I started to need glasses. However, being that I’m a Crawford, outside of reading, I seldom wear them. What do I mean by being a Crawford? Well, first, Crawford’s are hillbillies and damn proud of it. Second, you can’t tell a Crawford nothin’ … yeah I know, I ain’t proud of that, but it’s just the way we are. So, like I said, even though I’d be better off wearing my glasses, I’m vain and seldom do.
With that out on the table I began to notice that my daily walking distance had begun to shoot up. So it became a challenge and I subsequently walked further and further until I was averaging over 10 miles a day!! Incredible right! A few weeks back I was kicking up dust when one of the guys asked me how far I’d walked. I smugly looked at my Pedometer and said 11.9 miles. He of course said something like, “Get the hell outta here!” “Yeah” I replied as I poked my chest out and then as if to make my point, stuck my Pedometer in his face.
My friend looks at the Pedometer and then looked again, then cleared his throat and says, “11.9 kilometers, not miles.” You could have heard a pin drop … right before the laughter of course. Yeah, somehow my Pedometer had magically switched from miles to kilometers and … because I won’t wear my glasses – I couldn’t tell.
Kilometers! What the hell are they about anyhow! I mean, who the hell even uses the metric system, anyway! What? … I don’t care if the Pope uses it to measure his bowel movements! I don’t care if most of the world uses it – I just don’t understand none of it. Oh well, such is the life of the elderly.
Anyway, it’s cold as a Witches here. No water either. I’ll tell you about it next time.
Peace be with you, all. Stay warm and don’t forget to look for the positive!
Three Rivers, 2-12-21