Correctional Facility

Correctional facility: (n) a prison, especially for long-term confinement.

I think it’s safe to say that a plurality, if not a majority, of people think about prisons just about as much as they do the city dump or changing the batteries in their smoke detectors.

It’s not that we’re uncaring. It’s just that sometimes we are at such a loss as to know what to do that rather than taunting ourselves with the frustration of considering something, we pretend it vanished into thin air. (Kind of like when you pick your nose and pull one of those crusty funny wisdom on words that begin with a C
things out and rub it between your fingers until there’s no further evidence…)

Early on in my career in music and the arts, our musical group was invited to come and perform at the State Prison. I was traveling with two girls, and most folks thought it was a very bad idea for us to go to such a dangerous and potentially violent arena.

But if you think about it, as long as you’re not sleeping in, a prison is one of the safest places on earth. Everyone is restrained, threatened and guarded. (Perhaps we should consider this profile for Washington, D. C.  I digress.)

We did not take the gig because we wanted to bring hope or good cheer to the prisoners. No—it was because we were just starting out, and anyone who wanted us to play was our next best opportunity. (After all, you get tired of performing at nursing homes or church pot luck dinners.)

We arrived at the prison and discovered that the entire population was not invited to the concert. Matter of fact, only 150 inmates would be present—these being members of a Bible study held twice a week in the rec hall.

Well, I was young and impetuous, so I objected. I said that if I’d wanted to come and play my music for a bunch of Christians, I could have gone down to the Baptist Church, which “may or may not have just as many felons.”

Both the warden and chaplain were patient with me. They realized that I was immature and did not understand that I was carrying along with me two delicious “human treats,” which these men had not partaken of in some time.

They explained that even though they could protect the girls in our group from attack, they certainly could not shelter them from the trauma of being accosted with foul language.

I grumbled.

Well, we did our first show in front of the Bible Club, and it went so well that the warden asked me if we would do another show in front of about 200 of the inmates who were presently on “good behavior status.”

I immediately agreed.

Boy—did I learn a lesson. If those 200 prisoners were the “good behavior boys,” I shudder to think what would have happened if they had released the lions on us young Christians.

It was loud, overbearing, and it was difficult to get the inmates quiet enough to listen to the music—and only when the beat reached a certain level of intensity did they clap their hands and participate in the event.

Afterwards I felt humbled. I told the warden and the chaplain that I was sorry for being such a jerk.

They corrected me. The warden said, “Don’t you ever give up on the idea of trying to help someone—especially if it looks hopeless.”

I nearly cried.

Even though there’s a reason they call them correctional facilities—because most of the time, correction is the name of the game instead of rehabilitation—it is not our right to ever give up on those that God decided to create in His image.


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ABV

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

ABV: (abbr.) alcohol by volume

Let’s even things out. I get it.

Politicians are generally considered to be greedy, nasty folks, out to get a vote, who will do anything to be elected.

People involved in religion are portrayed in our society usually as a bit ignorant, with an ax to grind and with the horrible side of being judgmental.

Corporate fat cats are only concerned about the bottom line and will personally kick your butt to get it.

Let’s just say that I don’t argue with any of that. But by the same token, WHY are alcohol and weed portrayed as “fun, glamorous, intriguing and giggly?”

I’ll tell you the truth: I saw a woman walking down the hallway of my motel the other night who was drunk. She was obnoxious, loud, out of her mind, a little scary and right near the front door, she threw up–which by the way, even though they cannot portray this in movies, STINKS.

I also stopped and asked two young men parked in front of a convenience store for directions . They rolled down their window and the waft of marijuana smoke floated out to my nostrils. Not only could they NOT give me adequate guidance to get to my destination, but I don’t think either of them ever knew I was there.

They weren’t HIGH. They were LOW.

The lady in the hallway wasn’t partying–she was vomiting.

Let’s try to create a society where we start with candor, move to balance and end up being able to make intelligent choices for ourselves. Let’s not attack government and spirituality and leave ABV and drug stupors in some sort of imaginary world of untouched revelry.

  • Alcohol makes people nuts.
  • Marijuana makes people dull.
  • Politics makes people compromise.
  • Religion makes people overly dependent.
  • And corporations make people too worried about profit margins.

I get it. I would just like to see this represented fairly. Alcohol is not better than the Baptist church simply because the people in the movies want to sell beer so they can get funding for their next project.

The alcohol blood volume in this nation is ridiculous. The political gridlock is equally stupid. The religious insignificance offered is insipid. And corporate greed is not making better products.

Call ’em like you see ’em–and make sure you test for the right volume in each situation.