To Be Sobered

All the work I've been doing at church has revolved around inspiring young people to better themselves and around charity. But, yesterday was the first time I had to look a teenager in the eye and explain that I've been to prison and the reasons why. It was sobering.

I left prison determined to improve the lives of deprived young people. The children I was with yesterday were not deprived. However, I can plainly see that there was a lot of guidance I could give them too. The sobering part was realizing the immense responsibility I have to them.


Having a broken wrist, and bills to pay leaves me in a financial pinch. It's been very tempting to indulge in criminal activity. I don't want to ruin my credit nor give up my computer. However, the responsibility that I have to these children means even more to me. If I can teach them, by example as well as speech, to learn from my experiences and to avoid some of my mistakes I've made then all my life's struggles have been worthwhile.

This realization moves me in a way I cannot describe. My computer program is screwing up because I cry while I dictate these words. I think these are tears of relief. It feels good to let go of so many frivolous concerns so that I can focus on the mission at hand.


I'm even fasting today. I have to break some habits and clear my head of certain ways of thinking. Fasting and meditation are the best ways I know of to accomplish these things.

I must say, for the comfort of the church's parents and the well being of the church that I do not normally directly interact with small children. I'm not a sexual offender, but ex-con has a stigma all its own. So, if I'm not a friend of the child's parent(s), I avoid personal interactions with children as much as possible. Plus, the church has its own policies governing who can work with children. I haven't been properly trained to meet its qualifications yet.

Eventually, all will come to see me for the man I am. I just have to continue to be patient and sincere.

Meanwhile, I'll do all I can to steer young adults away from the mistakes I made while helping my church help the community.



Always real;

Supaman Tion Terrell

A Big Thing In my Town

In this blog, I often discuss my experiences at church. Well, this has been the most exciting week of my life. We've decided to pursue arranging a talent show that will be open to the public and we would like to see the youth of Collinsville showcase their talents. The event will benefit the Collinsville Area Ministerial Association (CAMA). A charity that distributes tons of food to the needy as well as provide financial relief.

I care a lot about my church because, as I explained previously, they've always been there for me from the time I landed here with nothing but the clothes on my back. CAMA's operations take place there too. So, of course we intend to have this talent show in the Fellowship Hall. We'll even serve free food and drinks during the show. It has yet to be decided what the prizes will be for the best acts.

As it stands, we expect this to be one of the biggest events of next spring. Already, we have commitments from the Collinsville Connection, the Collinsville Jaycees, Domino's Pizza, Premier Martial Arts, and several very talented members of our church.

This event really means a lot to me because it's hard for me to imagine where I'd be if it wasn't for all the help I received from the church and from CAMA. I mean here I am, a little more than four months free of prison, and I've been able to dig myself out of a hole and be empowered to participate in arranging something so big and so meaningful. That's about all the proof I need to give.

I learn to love the town of Collinsville more and more each day. It feels good to travel its streets and know I have an opportunity to help build an event that would help so many people. There was also the part about all the fun we're going to have to get me through the headaches that come with being chairman of the committee that is planning this event.

Since I can't work my regular job with a broken wrist, and I won't start my new job until it heals, I've spent most of my week preparing for this big event. CAMA now has a FaceBook page under the name Micheal Watkins. In your friends search, choose the home town of Collinsville to find the page. It's open to the public.

I encourage everyone from Collinsville to check it out. The organization could use volunteers of all types if anyone is interested in aiding a great cause.

Always real;

Supaman Tion Terrell

Ramblings

Have you tripped over your own words? I have. Every time I say I love you, I tripped over my words. It's like the words don't mean anything.

Isn't that strange? The most used words that we know. The most precious words to hear. But they don't mean what I mean when I tell you I love you.

My dictionary: the Merriam-Webster Dictionary (2004) says a lot about love. Strong affection. Warm attachment. Attraction based on sexual desire. A beloved a person. Unselfish loyal and benevolent concern for others. A score of zero in tennis. Cherish. To feel a passion, devotion, or tenderness for. Caress. To take pleasure in.

So much for the dictionaries. It didn't describe what I feel. They didn't describe why tears are welling my eyes. Does that surprise you? Have you yet to realize that my heart aches when I'm with you, and even more when I'm not with you.

You see, when I'm with you I want you even more than when I'm not. When I'm not with you, I can force myself to think about something else. I must admit though, it's not easy to do. But, when you are near me, a fire rages within me. My heart does not beat. It pounds. I feel the pressure in my eardrums. My hormones leave me befuddled.

You break me down to nothing. It's the one weakness I could never get enough of.

It's the way your eyes shine when you smile. The lightheartedness in your laughter. Even your mannerisms change just slightly. The way you cock your head. Your dimples always show as if you know without doubt our next little private joke is on the tip of my tongue.

I have to fight hard to hide my smile because to me this is our little joke in itself. I don't think you even know about this, but I love you too much to keep a secret. I swell with pride every time I think about how fortunate I am to have a woman such as yourself befriend me, accept me, embrace me, love me.

I could go on and on. I guess this is why alcohol induces talkativeness. I now know how it is to be drunk. I've had too much beer before. But the intoxication that clouds my thinking can't come from a can nor bottle, can't come from smoke, can't even come from hormones during the height of ecstasy.

Only you do this to me. The first thing that crosses my mind when I open my eyes each day. The last face I see before I drift off into that death we call sleep.

I really don't know what I'm trying to say. I don't even know why I'm trying to say what it is that I don't know I'm saying. But, I do know I love you.

I wish saying that was enough.

Always real;
Supaman Tion Terrell

Prisoner's Voice

Tonight's post is an afterword by Charles Akers. Friends and family known him as Pat.

Charles Patrick Akers
Red Onion State Prison
P. O. Box 1900
Pound, Virginia 24279-1900

Did you enjoy? If you're anything like me, you probably think it's a load of " in a perfect world," idealistic bullshit. Let's face it. The majority of Americans couldn't survive without laws for protection. Also, please let me point out that when I refer to one " ill deed," I'm not referring to crimes like murder, rape, pedophilia, nor other crimes that we find equally repugnant. I'm referring to the lesser crimes for which the offender suffers not only incarceration, but a lifetime of probation, parole, fines, discrimination, and stigmas.

I wrore this essay (for lack of a better word) to prove a point. I wrote it to point out just one aspect of the hypocrisy that we face daily in dealing with our "justice" system. This in no way of reflection of my religious beliefs. (I'm actually a bit more of an agnostic) but, as I said, this is just one aspect -the aspect the jumped out at me first.

I could go on for days, but,come on, you're not trying to hear all of that and, frankly, I'm not trying to write it all out. However if you would bear with me, I would like to drive one last point home; and that is: when you fall victim to the system, you're done. Life literally loses value -- case and point: any prisoner caught trying to hop defense would be shot. Dead!

Why?

The official reason given is to protect society. That is to say that the life of the average citizen outwieghs that of the prisoner. It doesn't matter if you're a murderer or petty thief. It doesn't matter if you've got 30 years or 30 minutes left.

So, how is it rational to believe that, as a prisoner, your life is worth less than the average citizen, but as soon as you walk to the magic gates of freedom, your life is instantly more valuable?

It doesn't make sense!

So, the point I'm trying to make at this is that no one life has more value, nor importance, than another. Regardless of history. Therefore, no one has the right to judge.

No one!
. . .

I have to say I'm proud of Pat. I'm almost jealous because I didn't write this myself. I've already told you all how close he and I are. I like him even more now. This, and yesterday's writing, proves how much a person can accomplish while in prison.

I just wish society would do more to force the policy makers to enable all prisoners to grow this much!

Alway's real;
Supaman Tion Terrell

Humpday Entertainment Presents:

Justice?
by:
Charles Patrick Akers

It has been said one good deed can not right a lifetime of wrong. Now, while I wholeheartedly agree, how is it that one good deed cannot right a lifetime of wrong, but one foul deed is enough to condemn a man's life with total disregard for any and all good deeds or services he may have performed before hand, that had gone unnoticed by the person, or persons, charged with deciding this said man's fate? Not only condemning the said man's life, but making him pay for that one wicked deed for the rest of his life.

I am of the opinion (with the understanding of a certain amount of bias, which comes from having fallen victim to circumstances stated previously) that the irony of this is so great that it borders patronization.

What I find more ironic about this issue is that these hypocritical sentiments describes the very foundation of what we call our "Justice" system. The definition of justice is 1: just conduct, fair dealing, 2. Just treatment. 3. Deserved reward or punishment.

Who is it to decide what is deserved for any deed (be it good or bad) when it effects another man's life? While every ill deed deserves some sort of punishment, it should not be held over that offenders head for the rest of their life. It does not matter how many people vote for such legislation. It is not just conduct nor is it fair dealing for any group of people to decide the rest of the man's life. However, the dementia has been carried further.

Now we have it so that one person can be elected to sit on the bench and decide a man's fate. Of course, here, I am referring to the judges of the courts. The narcissistic, self proclaimed demigods that act, daily, as if they have some sort of divine right to decide the rules to govern society and decide the punishments when these rules are not followed.

Then they reinforce these ideals by trying to insinuate that God supports their laws; although not being so bold as to state it plainly, but, instead, having witnesses place their hand on the Bible and swearing to tell the truth; with the threat of offending God (and therefore invoking his wrath. ) I think the subliminal contexts are easy to recognize.

Since this insinuation has been "brought to the light" I shall elaborate a bit more. As I stated above, the implied message is that God approves of the court system and the way in which it is run. However, I believe the Bible (called the word of God for a reason) says differently. In John 8:1-11 Jesus went to the Mount of Olives to teach. While he was teaching, a woman was brought before him; a woman that had been caught in the act of committing adultery. The punishment for which (by law) called for the woman to be stoned to death, with which the men present agreed. However, Jesus' response was, let he who is without sin cast the first stone. He then began writing in the dirt, where He had left off with His previous lesson. The Bible then says that the woman's accusers turned and left "convicted by their own conscience." When Jesus looked up and saw this, and said to the woman, "Woman, where are these accusers of yours? Has no one condemned you? To which she answered "No one Lord." Jesus responded, saying to her, "Neither do I condemn you. Go and sin no more."

Now, I think it is simply an elementary expectation for the law (or laws) to be supported by God, that they should correspond with the word of God; and if not in correspondence with, they should, at least, not be contradicted by it. For, if Jesus would not condemn a woman caught in the act of breaking the law, how would he feel about a mere man condemning another man simply on the testimony of another person?

Is one man's word more valuable than anothers simply because one is the accuser and the other stands accused? How about the judge? How is it right for him to make a career out of dispensing what he sees as justice, but it is wrong for me to take justice into my own hands? Is this not saying he is made more of a man than the? Or that his worth, or value, is more than mine; therefore giving him the right to do things that I am wrong for doing? This cannot be the case, because it would most definitely not be" just conduct" nor "fair dealing" therefore making what we call justice and injustice in itself.

Rest assured, I know what I'm speaking of: it has been termed anarchy (lunacy by some) however, it is not precisely anarchy of which I speak. I speak merely of consistency. The justice system saw fit to bring the Bible into the equation, therefore I am going to quote from the Bible a bit more to clarify that of which I speak.

I would like to call to attention, once more, the statement I made earlier referring to witnesses being forced to swear with one hand on the Bible. It says clearly in James 5:12 -"But above all, my bretheren, do not swear, either by heaven or by any other oath. But let your 'Yes' be yes and your 'No' be no, lest you fall into judgment. I don't see any way one could possibly misconstrue that verse in any way, shape nor form. Yet, the justice system would simply that everything they do is just and fair in God's eyes.

Thus bringing me to my semi-anarchist ideals. If God is to be used as the measuring stick for justice, then why not give God uncontested rule? In the book of Exodus, when God saw the need for written rules, God hasn't seen the need imperative enough as to be served a response? Are we so far gone as to use God as a figurehead while implying that we know what's best for us by establishing our own laws? How would God feel about the laws supporting gay marriage? What about the laws supporting abortion? Are these things right simply because the majority votes as they are? John 15:19says "If you were of the world the world would love its own. Yet because you were not of the world, but I chose you out of the world, therefore the world hates you." Thus being said, if the majority of the world is not of God, then how could any majority vote (on any topic) be expected to coincide with God's wishes? And, if not supporting guides wishes, how could it be expected to gain His support? Very simply answered: it can't.

Please understand that this is not meant to be some misguided lesson in theology. This is merely my view, from the perspective of the man that has fallen victim to these psychotic ideals and, having done so, been deprived of any possibility of another chance at life. However, I am not delusional. I realize that, having entered this devastating cycle of self destruction, any and all opinions I have developed are irrelevant; in the sense that any possible avenues I may have to make my views known can just as easily be close off by deeming my opinions as the complaints of another unhappy menace wno doesn't want to suffer the consequences of his actions. Therefore making any grievances raised lose any weight or momentum gained; once again leaving the justice system triumphant, and making the law the most powerful weapon in this psychological warfare used against those that couldn't imagine the immense power this processes. But, "God always punishes us for what we can't imagine."

Not myself

I don't feel very good right now. Today was not a very good day.

A situation occured that left me feeling insulted and that my integrity was questioned. Since I pride myself on loyalty, this is very hard for me to accept. I was so angry I got physically sick.

I don't know how I can get past the hurt I feel. I'm so out of sorts I can't think clearly enough to write a post tonight.

I'm sorry to disappoint my readers, but hey I'm human.

Always real;
Supaman Tion Terrell

Education Changes in Illinois Prisons

On Tuesday, June 15th, "The Belleville News-Democrat" reported Illinois prisons are dropping computer related classes because too few ex-convicts are getting jobs in the field. A business management class was also eliminated. Corrections Department spokeswoman Sharyn Elman says the classes will be replaced, but the article doesn't provide details about what the replacement classes will be.



This interests me greatly. I'm an experienced businessman. I understand the logic behind this decision. However, I'm worried about the changeover time between now and the replacement classes' availability. How many inmates will be released from prison with no educations at all while the restructuring occurs?



During my unexpected vacation, I've had a little time to do some soul searching. Since I started this blog, I've grown a lot. I've been exposed to many honorable causes and a few that I consider frivolous. I've joined some causes to help as much as I can. Some I probably shouldn't have because I don't have the time to support them as much as they need me to. During my soul searching, I had to ask myself, "Am I really making a difference?"



My goal is to inform society and to learn how we can bring about social changes in America that will insure a better free society for our children. There are many ways to approach this goal. I feel it would be best for me to stick to what I know. That's still hard because I spent the greater part of ten years learning a lot.



America's criminal justice system is pathetic. It actually fits the UN definition of genicide. I believe I'm very qualified to educate the public about this because of my experience and emotional maturity which allows me to objectively analyze and describe prison related issues. However, the criminal justice system is more a product of social disease than a cause.



I've written a great deal about some of the causes of social problems in this blog. Not all of my assertions have been received favorably. That's to be expected however. After all I'm dealing with human beings like myself.



The article mentioned above reminds me that the citizens of this country must make sure they are more involved in penal legislation. What if it takes years to replace teachers and purchase new materials to start the classes that will replace computer and business courses? What if the replacement classes are irrelevent to todays job market?



Most importantly, what if one of those prisoners who slips through the cracks and receives no education becomes your neighbor after release. What if you or a loved one were the victim of the desperate person's crime because they are left with no alternative by which to survive.



Always real;



Supaman Tion Terrell

Good Fortune

This post may take me all night. I give thanks in advance to my secretary for her care in editing this post. I'm typing with one hand since I have a broken wrist.

I must write for you all though. It helps me keep my sanity. Some of you I've connected with in very special ways.

Many great things have developed since I wrote to you last.

1. I found a new job. I can't start until my arm heals, but it's mine for the taking.
2. I made a great deal of progress in a talent show project to be hosted by the First United Presbyterian Church. Domino's Pizza has committed to sponsor the event.
3. I placed 3rd in the St. Louis Poetry Slam.
4. As a result of the above, I performed at the Soulard Earth Festival held at Soulard Park in St. Louis, Mo.

So my friends, I know this is brief. However, I've had a long week. Plus I'm taking powerful pain killers. I'm doing the best I can to type this much with only my off hand. I could hardly type when I had two.

I will start on tomorrow's post early. It should be posted Monday at the latest. I appreciate all the patience you've shown thus far. Just as I earned that kind of faith from you; I will honor that faith with its due reciprocation.

Always real;

Supaman Tion Terrell

Humpday Entertainment Presents:

Due to the lack of interest in the the short story we previously ran, it has been cancelled.



Today we present Angel O'Malley Adams' poetry:


Softly whisper your passion Come to me my loving... Softly whisper your passion

Come to me my loving heart

I'll cherish your gentle tenderness

From this day forward I'll impart

My emotion of contentment

That grew instantly as we met

From the depth of my souls embrace

Straight to you for whom it was meant

Refresh your souls thirsting need

Come bathe in passion's bright glowing fire

As we dance the dance of eternal love

Wrapped in our flowing desires

Our need for each other so great

A timeless burning flame

As at last we have found each other

And our place together we claim? :)
. . .



I am not sorry for my soul,
But oh, my body that must go
Back to wince it came
Without the love it longed to know.
I am not sorry for my soul.


I shallow my breathe

I wrap myself up in your eyes
Feel your gentle touch wisp across me

Your lips offer such sweet honey

Look deeper, beyond common boundaries,
You shall find me waiting to shelter your heart

From the harsh coldness of the world

. . .



Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit imp... Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

- William Shakespeare

Another Look at the Messages Project

You've never seen me endorse an organization to this extent. I stand behind the Messages Project because I comprehend the necessity of the services it provides to prisoners and their children. I already said that. I also explained that Carolyn was supposed to add words of her own to my first post about the organization. She and I have finally turned up on the same page.

When I wrote about the Messages Project, I focused on the beneficial effects the program has on inmates who need closure before they can move on and be productive. After communicating with Carolyn I now see that the children of incarcerated persons benefit even more than the parents do.


Since 1999 the project has visited 12 state prisons in Virginia three times a year to create video tapes through which incarcerated parents communicate to their children. The videos are often accompanied by books, poems, and or messages which the parents have read during the recording. Some of the messages are sent internationally, but most are domestic.


This enables parents to maintain or restore bonds with their children. We know children of incarcerated parents are 7 times more likely to become involved in the system. This has to stop. The Messages Project creates an opportunity for parents to communicate the lessons they learned from their mistakes. This can also motivate parents to better themselves and to not return to lives of crime.


The project has mailed over 4,000 videos. They also collect used books to forward to the children of incarcerated parents. Often times, the "message" is the first significant gift children receive from their incarcerated parents.


The Messages Project is now in Nebraska where they partner with Christian Heritage. Soon they will begin a pilot in New Jersey. I wish other people would speak up to get the project accepted in their states.


We have to help insure the children of incarcerated parents know they are loved! It's bad enough they are silent victims of their parents' mistakes.


One last thing. Carolyn is looking for stories from people who at some point in time may have had a parent undergo incarceration. She wants to know what it is like for them. These stories will be posted on The Message Project website, and possibly on this blog. Names will only be included if written permission is expressed when the stories are submitted.


Always real;

Supaman Tion Terrell

Lovely Thoughts.

A funny thing about love is you can't control it. You can feel it taking you over. It makes you feel all warm and tingly when you so much as think of that special person.

It doesn't matter if you know you shouldn't get too close to this person. It doesn't matter if you know you'll catch hell if you allow these feelings to develop. Love has a mind of its own. We all fall under its influence at some time or another.

Last night, I wrote about abused love. Today, I've been trying to decide if love is always right. I mean we can't help who we love, and sometimes love makes us believe we can change the things about others that could be a danger to us. Wait. Love doesn't make us believe that. We lie to ourselves in this manner because love makes us weak.

But still, is love always right?

I can't decide. What I do know is that we often confuse other feelings with love. Lust can be just as powerful a motivator as love. Pity can even feel like love under the right circumstances.

My experiences have taught me that love is often an attachment we feel toward others based on our assessment of their ability to meet our needs. The problem with this is we don't always know what we need. There is also the likelihood that one,or both parties in the relationship is doing their best to wear their best face as the relationship develops.

This leads to falling in love with illusions. As you get to know the lover you soon become disenchanted with them. However, some people will hang on to a person that is not good for, nor to, them because they are afraid to give up on the love they feel. Even though that love isn't felt toward the real person whom they are with.

I guess in this case, it would seem that love is wrong. I must point out that love wasn't wrong in this case. Someone allowed themselves to love a persona before learning who that other person really was. The individual is at fault not love.

So, my question remains unanswered. I really would like an answer to this question that makes sense. I know love is the best, most powerful emotion a person can feel. I'm confused because it seems love begets so many disasters.

Is Love Ever Wasted

A friend asked the question that became the title of this post.

Her story is a common one. A woman who fell in love with a prisoner and has turned his predicament into a cause to which she dedicates much time and energy. It's quite honorable as well as romantic. However the prisoner is not willing to dedicate himself to her.

At least this particular man is up front about his feelings and true intentions concerning my friend. There are plenty of people who dedicate themselves to partners who aren't dedicated to them in return. These sincere people are having games played on them.

Which reminds me. Despite my efforts to shed light on the need for criminal justice reform, I don't join any Free So and So campaigns because I know nothing of the subjects. I can't afford to invest my credibility in a stranger. If I'm deceived, I would be an accomplice to my deceiver in deceiving all my friends. I can't risk us all that way.

To proceed. Love is never wasted. It inspires growth and goodwill toward others. That's something nothing else can guarantee on its own merits.

I must also explain that love is often misplaced and abused. Like I explained in the post "Who Got Game," post date April 8Th, 2010, some people can sense weaknesses in others and are quick to exploit them.

These types of people often abuse love. They use people. Some are smarter than others. The smart ones take their time and reel their victims in slowly. Some are even capable of keeping fish on their hook(s) for years or even lifetimes. The less skilled are prone to try to cash in too big too fast which gives them away..

My advice to you all is love well and be kind to others, but be careful who you trust and allow yourselves to love.

A wise man was reported to have said, "Be as wise as serpents and gentle as doves."

Always real,
Supaman Tion Terrell

We Can Be Stubborn

I'm a man of conviction. When I run into something that interests me, I investigate. Ten years in prison gave me a lot of time to study many subjects. My learning has lead to acquiring a belief system based on facts and logic.

I find that, like myself, most people tend to be strong in their convictions. I've pissed many women off by mentioning my post in this blog that argues it's wrong to lie to children about Santa Claus. It happened today at the Horseradish Festival. Despite that, I had a good time at the festival. The music was good. I couldn't tell you who the performers were though. I didn't really pay attention to those details.

Anyway, I give a lot of thought to my interactions with people. Especially afterwards. I don't like offending people, but its hard for me to allow people to live in ignorance. The rationalizations I get when people try to defend lying to their children amaze me. What really bugs me though is that people get so mad they may not read this blog to get what they can from it whatever they could that will help them grow.

That is the purpose of this blog. I don't get paid for it. I offer to pay people who don't get anything from it.

Now, I face a dilemna. I could not mention arguments that I believe may offend people when I meet them. However, I feel like that is dishonest in a way. I'm not comfortable with that option, but I don't like pissing people off either.

Besides, I once posted on face book that the problem with morality is people believe they have the right to force their own opinions onto others. If I try to push my feelings about issues onto others I'd be a person not unlike those I was complaining about.

This is a matter I will have to ponder long and hard. I would like some input. You all know how to reach me.

Always real,
Supaman Tion Terrell

Lulabell's Part:2

After getting put in check, Jimbob scratched his beard. He did that a lot. For a while, I wondered if he had fleas or ticks or something.
Lulabell came back with the drink and a deck of cards. Jimbob took the real glass from her hand and took a drink before she could set the cards down.
I picked the cards up and started shuffling. Lula cut the cards and then I dealt. I won the first hand. Then Lula won the second one. Jimbob ordered another drink as he dealt.
"Don't be puttin no water in dis one neiva, Lula." He grumbled as she headed into the house.
Lula ignored him.
"So what you been doin?" Jimbob asked Lula after sipping his drink and descretely rolling his eyes at her.
"I been goot. I be glad when my Charlieboo get here though. I was layin in da bed wetter dan hugslop (hog slop) waitin to see'em."
I almost cried from trying so hard not to laugh.
"Why you aint sent for me?" Jimbob asked. "I'll make you leave dat ole coon."
Lula sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes. "I heard 'bout you. You can't keep dat lil peewee up five minutes."
I looked up and saw a pink Caddilac convertertable snailing to the house. The old man driving it looked white at that distance. Redish white hair layed against his temple under his black Kangol hat. He was bobbing his head to music. "You to old to be acting frisky, Lula," I teased.
"Girl shit. I three times twenty one and I do da nasty more dan you." She snapped back.
Charlie stepped out of his car wearing black wingtipped shoes, grey slacks, a black belt, white shirt, and a black bowtie with white paislies on it.
"How old is he, Lulabell? I asked.
"Se'empty, but I pull 'ese here false teefis out and have him hard as if he was eighteen," she said while plucking a card from the deck. "Ha ha. Look at dat." She layed down a three card spread.
"Just dis a card you lyin ole bat," Jimbob barked.
"How everybody doin?" Charlie asked, stepping slowly onto the porch.
"Gimme a kiss Daddy," Lula said as she threw a card on the table."
"Doin aghright," Jimbob mumbled.
Charlieboo walked over to Lula then they shared a long wet sloppy kiss. Charlieboo smiled when it finally ended. "Whoah Gal, you tryin-na make me jump yer bones rightchere on da porch aintcha?"
She grabbed his hand and grinned. "Lets go in da house for a lil while affa dis hand."
Jimbob picked her card then layed down a three card spread of his own. " You aint running nowhere yet."
I plucked a card from the deck. I knew I couldn't win the hand. None of my cards matched. I had the ace of spades though, so I broke even on the hand since we had a side pot on high spade. I threw out the card I plucked and Lula used it to tunk out. Jimbob and I had to give her another dollar.
"You want anotha drank or a plate tell I come back?" She asked Jimbob.
"Whatcha got?
"Chicken breasts, tatersalad, scringbeans, chittlens, and rolls."
"Yeah. I reccon I take a plate, and a five dollar whiskey"
Lula looked at me. "Come on."
All those pots and pans I saw on the table was up there for a reason. Lula showed me the portions she served on dinner plates that sold for five dollars. Then she showed me which cups to use to serve shots for one, two, and five dollars. When I took Jimbob his order, she led her boyfriend into the livingroom and closed the door.
There's nothing funnier than watching a drunk man with no teeth try to eat fried chicken. He had the nerve to try to flirt with me too. I ate to keep from laughing in his face.
My cousins came walking up to the house before I lost control. I like my cousins. They were all younger than me and just about worshipped me. You see, Mom has good fashion sense and I learned from her. Everything thing I bought from hairspray to underwear were designer brand. Lula kept my cousins neat and clean, but she couldn't even spell fashion.
I walked down the driveway to meet them and to get away from Jimbob. They was more than happy to see me. Taterbug was fifthteen. Puddin was fourteen and, the youngest, Angie was thirteen. They was Pam's kids. She was in jail for forgery and Lula took custody of the kids. Angie was Lulabell's daughter which made her my dad's cousin.
"Granma in da house wit Charlieboo?" Taterbug asked.
"Yep." The first thing I noticed were their new namebrand clothes.
"Dey so nasty," Angie said.
"So. You doin it to John, And he ugly," Puddin said.
"Who else here?" Taterbug asked.
"Nobody but Jimbob," I answered.
Errybody else be here in a lil while. Dey play cards and get drunk erry Friday and Sa'erday," Taterbug explained. "Granma make a killin too. Specially on da first of da munt."
"What ya'll do for the wekend?" I asked.
"Stay out the grown folks' way" Angie replied.
"What you do for fun?"
"My boyfriend live down the road." Angie said.
"I got a Nintendo. Plus my girl got a car." Taterbug answered.
I looked at Puddin who shrugged her shoulders. "I study alot."
"What ya'll do in da city?" Angie asked.
"Same shit," I told her.
A car came up behind us. We all turned and looked back.
"Dere go Roscoe," Angie said." You got his money?"
"Yeah I got it. Shut da hell up." Taterbug walked up to the green Ford Bronco and talked to the driver.
Angie leaned toward my ear."Roscoe sell drugs. Tater sell'em for'em at school. Granma don't know."
I looked over at Taterbug as he handed the driver a wad of cash and got a rolled up brown paper bag in return. "What he sell?"
"Weed. He make alotta money too. He gotta do somfin. Granma was sending us to school lookin like bums."
Roscoe tooted his horn as he drove buy us after him and Taterbug was finished they business. I couldn't see him good enough to tell if he was cute or not.
"Roscoe wanna know why you aint call'em yet?" Taterbug asked Puddin after he caught up with us.
"I don't want that grown man." Puddin snapped. "I don't care how much money he got. He just goin end up back in jail."
"Or dead like my Daddy," Angie added.
"You might end up in dere wit'em," Puddin told Taterbug.
'You won't complainin when me and him went half on your computer." Tater pointed out. . .

I'll continue Consuela's story where it left off next week when Humpday Entertainment returns.

Always real;
Supaman Tion Terrell

A Prisoner's Voice

Today, I am launching something new here at "Supaman Says." Thursday's will be dedicated to our brothers and sisters behind bars. I don't have a name for these sessions yet, and I'm open to suggestions. Make your suggestions for a title at: terrelltion@yahoomail. The purpose of these sessions is to give prisoners an outlet to express themselves to a public they could not reach before. Prisoners suffer all types of abuse and need much support in their efforts to better themselves.

The following is a message from a friend of a prisoner whose name I have no permission to release. It is followed by a letter addressed to me from a prisoner. The prisoner's contact information is available upon request. State your requests at the email adress highlighted above.


Tion, thank you so much for remembering to post Carlos' letter on your blog. Please don't worry that you couldn't find it, you really don't have to apologize for that! I really, really appreciate your help; thanks a million!!! Here's the letter:



Thank you!
. . .


I want to start off thanking you. Thanking you for taking a moment of your time to befriend me, support me, and listen to me. It really is heart-warming to know that you're out there, looking into my world. Giving me the much needed support and strength to continue on with my struggles. Just knowing there's someone outside this place who cares, who's paying attention, and is also creating changes in this world, means a lot to me. Once again, thank you.



It is not easy being confined in a 7 x 6 cell, with four white walls and a stainless steel door; for 23-1/2 hours, day in, day out. Struggle is something I do constantly to keep my sanity. Struggle is an element in my life that brings about the strength needed to succeed beyond life's boundaries. With every day I get stronger and all the wiser, as everyone does. And since my arrival at Quentin's Adjustment Center I've learned what solitude means and what it feels like to be secluded from the world. Over three years now within this hell hole, I've come across many emotions, many moments of hardships and when I feel my knees can't take no more, someone like you reaches in, extending a hand with words that captivate me, encourage me, and strengthen me. I receive a sudden burst of energy; an energy to continue facing my tormenters for I am not alone, the world is watching. I have always had this feeling that everyone I come across enriches me somehow, some way. So you can understand the gratitude I have for you, for this period of time we're sharing.



When my girl told me I could post my comments on the web, I became ecstatic (still am) for this moment. For the release of my words, my thoughts from the confinement they reside. Another thing these prison walls can't have of me. Through her, you'll hear from me regularly, you'll be witness to one man's journey as I sit on Death Row, fighting for freedom, and through my eyes, my words you'll see life on Death Row. Through hers you'll see the man I am, have become 'cause of her and individuals like you.



At the present moment I have no lawyer or financial support as I wait for one to take up my appeal. The expected wait for one is 4.5 years, so I am truly sorry I cannot get into specifics about my case. Meanwhile it is essential that I maintain myself mentally and physically fit, which I am a manic at. There's little one can do, confined in a cell, but for some odd reason, I find myself always busy. Too busy to get through everything I have in mind. As if I am in a race against time. Yet it is good that I maintain myself busy. It is the secret here to not lose your mind or go mad.



You can see how writing, reading, and drawing all play key roles in one's sanity here. While working out is in a different category altogether, for more than 50% of the prisoners on Death Row die of natural causes and 20% of them, I regret to say, take their own life. Rather than deal with the torment of having a death sentence hanging above their head. Having a routine is important!!! Having someone that cares is what I call a blessing! For this battle I fight is a long one, a tough one, that just started.



So as I conclude this entry, I thank you again for everything. Especially for your help, time and support. Well, I just looked out my window. When I started this, San Quentin was surrounded by fog and as I close it, it is very grey and misty. A sign of the rain to come. I'm doing okay by the way. Feeling better having written this, just expressing myself to you and allowing my thoughts to float away towards your world.



Take care,

Carlos II

The Messages Project

I promised the following post yesterday. Unfortunately, my computer went down yesterday, and it was too late to go to the library. So, I'm posting my feelings towards the Messages Project today.

It took me a while to decide whether I would support this organization. I don't risk my reputation on just anyone. What concerned me the most was the idea of the possibility it isn't what it says it is. Well, I was rather impressed that CNN has awarded them twice in a row. So I decided to watch the show.

While watching the video now linked to my Facebook wall, I realized this is an opportunity to give incarcerated persons a reason to get their lives together. Believe me. I know how far a little inspiration will go.

I've always written about the importance of giving convicts a means to find peace within themselves. That must come with forgiveness. Forgiveness must begin with forgiving one's self. It's hard to do that when you have children out there whom you haven't apologized to. I've shared in previous posts what torment this was for me. Had I had this opportunity while I was in prison, I know I'd be much better off than I am now.

Not that I'm doing bad, mind you.

The video can also be viewed at www.themessagesproject.com

I encourage you all to watch this video. I'm not asking you for money. Most of you know I give money away if a new reader doesn't like this blog. I simply ask you to take the time to learn about a project that will improve the lives of convicts for the better.

I could go on about the potential benefit of this organization's efforts, but that would be futile. The proof is in the pudding. Besides, I'm quite good at stating my case.

I expected Carolyn Lecroy to contribute to this piece, but I'm having difficulties with that. One of these days I'll figure out how to use all the technology at my disposal, and I won't have all these problems. It gets frustrating, but I have done well for a man fresh out of prison. I could take more time to learn all my new computer's functions, but it's hard working three jobs and keeping up with all my other responsibilities.

I believe this post will serve both her and my purpose. You all know that the organization is here and how it can inspire prisoners to better themselves. That's what we all want right?

Always real;

Supaman Tion Terrell