Email – Part 1

I had finally given up on the notion of having email when I arrived at my current prison. I filled out the email application form in both Texas and at the ADC to no avail. No one ever comes to you and tells you that you were denied, they just never turn it on. I always had to confirm that I was turned down by talking to inmates who applied after me and got email access a day or two later.

Not being granted access to email was a big blow to me since I’m a major computer geek, and I often stayed in touch with family and friends via computer when I was still in the outside world. Remember the days when if you wanted to surf the Internet, AOL was the only game in town? That’s about when I started, and I’ve been a Net-Junkie ever since.

I was pretty sure that lack of Internet access would eventually kill me, if the gremlins didn’t get to me first. I felt my geek power waning. I found myself forgetting basic skills that everyone needs to live in a modern society, like someone afflicted with Alzheimer’s disease. This was me two weeks ago:

“Hey Joe, remember playing the original Contra on Nintendo?”

“Yeah, everybody played that. And you had to enter in the cheat code at the opening screen if you wanted enough lives to beat it. Who could forget B, A, B, A, Up, Down, B, A, Left, Right, B . . .”

“Joe?”

“ . . . Left . . . Right . . . B . . . ”

“Joe, are you okay?”

“I . . . I can’t remember for some reason . . . ”

“You forgot THE CONTRA CODE?! Man, you need to fill out a sick call slip and get yourself checked in to medical!”

As you can see, I was in bad shape. A year with no Internet or video games tends to have a downgrading effect on an individual. Not being able to recall cheats for a 25-year-old Nintendo game was a telltale sign that my days were numbered. By my estimation, I had less than a year to live.

Fortunately, I’m on the road to recovery. Upon arrival, and every six months thereafter, all inmates have to go to their counselors for a review (called a Team Meeting). When my counselor suggested that I maintain contact with my family by phone and email, I scoffed at him and told him that I’d never be allowed email access. I’m the scourge of the Internet, after all. Even though I told him I tried at the other facilities with no success, he instructed me to try one last time. Within two days of submitting the form, I was approved! Just having this minimal, heavily monitored access to email is making me feel a lot better.

This is leading me to believe that each prison has its own policy on what offender types are allowed email access. And now that I’m thinking about it, I see EVERYBODY sending out electronic messages here. Back in Texas, inmates were watching to see whether suspected s.o.’s were emailing or not. If you were never seen at the computer, that sent up a red flag to the community that you’re an s.o. Leave it to the Bureau of Prisons to give the gremlins a chomo detector . . .

I’m going to make a guess and say that most, if not all, prisons with s.o. programs are allowing email access for c.p. offenders. If so, this would be yet another reason to have your lawyer suggest a few s.o. prisons to your judge BEFORE you get sentenced.

And don’t think that I’m done talking about email. Please stay tuned for “Email – Part 2” coming up in a few days.