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Letter to a prison inmate

Bill,

I know people who have, for years, been quite happy with Sprint service for their cellphones. On the other hand, I have always had problems with the company. I cannot, for instance, get reliable service in my house. Signals come intermittently when I’m driving. A few years ago, I stood in front of my car in Overland Park. I was looking right at the Sprint tower in the distance. There was no signal.

When I received your call on Tuesday, Dec. 4, at 3 p.m., the phone dropped the call almost exactly when I answered. The disappointment reminded me of when I was a kid. Cub Scout baseball was one of the great events of my week, though I was a terrible baseball player and was always stuck in right field. I looked forward to those practices and games all week. Baseball got me out of my loud and often confusing home, away from my parents’ anger, and free of my siblings.

I remember one time, I was laying in the front yard, looking at the sky, ball glove on my hand. I was waiting anxiously for my dad to arrive home, so he could take me to the park. The yard gave me an expansive view of the landscape, as we lived on the top of a hill. I watched with growing dread a dark line of clouds moving in from the southwest. I thought if I wished hard enough, I could stop that storm. The winds began as the clouds flowed in slowly above.

I stayed outside for as long as I could, hoping with all my might that the storm would blow backward. I prayed to a God I no longer have to save me from having to stay in that night. When the rain began, sadness and anger gripped me. My disappointment at not having the practice that night drove me to tears. The universe seemed arrayed against me.

While I didn’t cry when I missed your call, I was inconsolable. I was meeting a friend at a coffee place for a chat, something I do with my friends from time to time. When he arrived, I was in a sour mood and had to explain myself. But I’m a grown up now and must realize that there are very few last chances in life. We will talk sometime. There will be a moment when I don’t have to listen to a message on my voicemail that says, “You are receiving  a call from an inmate at a federal prison,” after which is silence.

Moving on, I think you know I have been on and off looking for work. I’ve been very picky. After all, I’m sort of laying on my ass, doing what I love to do, and making 35 a year between teaching, writing workshops,and book sales. I would have to start at job at 55 or 60 a year with some promise of career advancement. There aren’t many of those jobs out there. Lots of sales stuff. Lots of jobs that pay $12-$20 an hour. But few of the scope I would really need. I’d get a part-time gig before I jump ship at JCCC.

So, here’s a recent job story: I was working with an art photographer on Tuesday, Dec. 4, having a good conversation and popping photos in his studio at the Livestock Exchange. Toward the end of our time together,about three hours, I received a call from a woman who said she was from KCUR and was I still interested in the trainer job. Sure, I said, I’m very excited about it. We set up a time for a phone interview.

In fact, I had no idea about the job and was puzzled. I wracked my brain. I didn’t remember applying for any position at KCUR and couldn’t imagine what they’d need with a trainer. I thought, hell, I’ll go through it and see what happens.

Finally, I called the number on my phone back on Thursday and asked the woman her name and could she send me a job description in an E-mail. I lied and told her I couldn’t remember where I put the material.

When I received the E-mail on Friday, it was from Kansas City Water, not KCUR! Mental ossification? Hearing problems? Who knows. But I did apply for a trainer job at the water department.

I had the phone interview on Monday, a conference call with three people from the city. Who knows how to judge these things. I was able to answer all their questions in the affirmative or with a short narrative. The only thing I didn’t know was a course design program they mentioned. I think I communicated my versatility and acuity at the things the job demanded.

They want to form an instructional unit just for the water department. The unit will be just three people who would do health and safety updates, certifications, instruction on heavy equipment operation, management technique, and so on. The job promises movement around the various water department sites, as well as classroom time at the main building on 63rd Street. I imagine myself meeting with colleagues once a week to schedule the various training sessions. I would be on the hook to develop the courses and materials—lectures, powerpoints, etc. The job would change up all the time and keep my interest better than a regular desk job, which I always have problems sticking with.

The point is that this is all stuff I do every semester. I ended the phone interview by telling them I was looking at the job description and I could excel at all aspects of what the job entailed. They said they would get back with me in two or three weeks.

I have two thoughts. The first is that they won’t call me back. I often do this with regard to big deals. When I convince myself I’ve screwed the pooch, I’m truly surprised when good things happen.

The second is they would be silly not to have me in for a face-to-face interview. I’m the guy for that job. I can do it and I’ll be good at it. The people I work with will be everyone from new hires and working guys to supervisors and top-line managers. I love the possibilities.

Plus, the extra income and benefits will be good for us.Virginia’s insurance at her new company is truly shitty–$13,000 in premiums alone with a deductive and stiff coinsurance. We will need a new roof in a couple of years, as well as a new furnace. We would like tile in the kitchen and bathrooms, as well as hardwood for the front room and new carpet through the rest of the house. A professional pain job. In addition, kid is headed to college soon and that will take everything we have.

I hope things are good for you. I know that you’re having problems dealing with the boredom, but hopefully, you are catching up on your reading. I wonder about the conditions under which you have to live and look forward to talking to you personally about them and your general well-being.

Write me a note or give me a call soon.

Oh, and I should tell you that Ken put $300 in your commissary account through me. We couldn’t get Western Union to work for him on his computer or mine. So, we used my WU account to get you the money.

Let us know what your needs are in terms of the commissary and we will take care of you, whether you like it or not.

Yours in friendship,

Patrick

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