* Since my arrival at Bastrop Federal Satellite Camp 38 months ago, I've been treated consistently by the camp staff. The daytime and evening camp officers, the Camp Administrator, Case Manager, Counselor, and Secretary have consistently treated me with either indifference or disdain. I've been either invisible or a nuisance. All this has changed now that I'm one of the puppy raisers. Now it's consistently, "How are the puppies?" or "Do you need anything?" They're talking to me about their families, their pets, and their hopes and fears. It's weird, almost like I've morphed into a real human being. I have no problem with the change, but also no illusion about where I stand. I know I rate significantly below the dogs on the prison camp hierarchy. Hopefully nothing will go wrong, because I know who will get blamed.
* Most movements start out with the best intentions. Sometimes they become something meaningful. Sometimes they implode under the weight of their own righteous indignation, and sometimes they get high-jacked. I wonder if we will look back at the Brett Kavanaugh confirmation hearing before the Senate Judiciary Committee as the "bridge too far" for the #MeToo movement, where politicization made a mockery of legitimate abuse. Of course I couldn't help but lament the fact that prison reform is in the hands of these Senate yo-yos.
* I recently received some excellent quotes from my nephew Deuce who's in 5th grade. One, from his friend Rocco Reams, was "Hope is like the sun when it is behind the clouds. It is not gone, you just have to find it." And this one from Deuce himself, "All of us are given gifts. How we use them is up to us." Good stuff.
* While we're focusing on quotes...In response to hurricane Florence, we heard from an awestruck President Trump, "One of the wettest we've ever seen from the standpoint of water." While totally untrue (no real surprise there), Yogi Berra would probably still approve.
* I'm sad to report that Buddy, the camp cat, did not make it. His eye infection went untreated, worsened, and he finally quit eating. And this after I gave my Case Manager the name and contact information of a person in Austin offering to provide vet care and to find Buddy a new home, and that person even reached out, getting no response. So he just died a pitifully slow death. His last act of odorous deviance occurred when he died under the Education Building in the hardest spot to reach and remove. Serves them right, the heartless bastards.