Editor’s note: the first part of Criminal Class can be found here
This is CRIMINAL CLASS PART TWO, a glance at the accepted particulars.
My brother Mike Olive, with his 66 years of manic wisdom, lately casually imparted that the U.S. penal bureaucracy is losing money. Mike Olive reads in a day if he is not hiking or rock climbing in Boulder, or looking at TV sports. He reads pulp fiction, and he might read anything else that does not bother his mindset, like would spirituality or metaphysics. He reads science. He does not believe in UFOs. He believes not in God or Spirit. He is interested in concrete stability, concrete science, and such related, might bring up statistics. He avoids discussion of politics or sight of it on TV and he always votes Democrat and tells me I should not complain because I never vote. He is neither interested in drink or pot, he will eat much sugar. After sugar then he seeks diary products or meat, fat meat. Example, he does not fry his bacon very long.
Were the US Penal Industry truly telling they are losing money, this would be testament but of their interconnectedness with larger scheme, of the USPI being but cog in great contraption. Maybe it is the US of A insensible contraption. Or it can be bigger than that. Yeah, corporate, international greed and insensibility.
I am getting up in the morning now without having to endure much stress most days. My spinal injuries may slowly shift back to their inherent uninjured purpose. Here is the plan, to keep to inherent purpose.
Medicine Dog was age 11 past Dec. 5. If the girlfriend who gave me him was correct. Choyota can be still not more than two, now is muscular and healthy after finally getting spayed, after two litters. I have so disliked or feared all the shit I have had to go to, that getting her spayed, which terrified her, I had been dreading too. Now, it is done, with me soon to pull out her stitches.
I now have only AA in Aransas Pass tx 78336 to continue, once a week, the funniest shit, funny but mostly physically unpleasant for they chain smoke, and I take Actifed to go the hour, starts at noon, and I get back, and slug my first cup of three, alcohol long known as help to decongestants and antihistamines, toss my clothes and shower and wash hair, in spirit I will next have the rest of the half bottle of chardonnay. Sometimes there is pot. I am given no piss test, guess it got left out, surprised my nice probation officer, young girl in her twenties. Hum, said she. You don’t have to take urinalyses. That’s nice, I remarked.
Too, I got out of Community Service, seems it was 30 hours but I would have to go through the pile of paper shit in these cramped quarters to see. My chiropractor did me a note, and my probation officer over in nearby Sinton sent it on. I am not to be doing any bending over, twisting etc. for a year. Wonderful, first time I be glad to have back injury. It was a horrifying notion, I could be out gigging trash – what this would do to my mind – I am no person conditioned to monotony, the Dear Reader understands. I quit, quit the Navy, always quit, would not wreck my back, would sit down, would rather fight. Whew, I need to keep to my dogs, my old mother, seeing my powerful daughter, my grandkids.
Because I am destitute, I got out of somehow paying for Drug Rehab in Aransas Pass tx 78336. I paid and got through the early shit. The early shit was inoffensive. Except for the Smart Start on Lyla’s car, this breathalyzer gimmick, and this horrified her, she in poor memory continued to demand from me how long was this thing going to be on her car. She has maybe a hundred grand of Standard Oil stock, B.E. was a simple man but good poker player, Lyla has her house and Standard Oil stock, I don’t know, Kelly handles it and he is uneasy about telling me exactly, but “my share” has footed my bill, and the siblings are glad I am here. The breathalyzer gimmick cost I forget whatever to start – I might be getting through all this with paying not more than ten grand – but the Smart Start was $70 per month that I drive to their Corpus Christi shop to have it checked, to prove I was not tampering with it, am not getting around it. Other problem was the difficulty in working the thing, blowing into it just so, not blowing too hard, not too slowly, and it was still erratic. Mike Olive flew in, needed to drive to Rockport dentist, few miles, and I showed him, more or less, how to get the car going. He could get it going, in a couple tries, except after having a tooth pulled, his penalty for sugar (his siblings three have inherited sound teeth, haven‘t yet lost teeth), he could not with numb mouth blow correctly, too manic, got spit or Novocain into gimmick or what the fuck. He contacted Bix, who lives nearby. Bix drove him to the house, took me back to Lyla’s car. I had had my morning vino, maybe this is how it took me an hour. Bix had had to go see TV or his girlfriend. I couldn’t get going, took a walk, went to nearby Walmarts looking for an espresso pot – they have coffee grinders and no espresso maker, same as Walmarts in Aransas Pass. Got back to Lyla’s car and in not much further hassle got car ignited and got car home in the evening.
In a very few more days, one day the car would never ignite. Kelly comes in Thursdays and hired a wrecker. Wrecker guy told him he has had a lot of this, the breathalyzer gimmicks can fuck up. I had been having all this phone exchange with the CC shop, and the fellow running his business there believed all this was my fault, but when they did fix the thing, it was not my fault and I never could get much answer but anycase I did not then have to pay extra for its having been “my fault.” They were glad to see me head out to Aransas Pass because someway it was their fault.
I was only to have the damned contraption on the first year of my two. I forget already but I think we had got about seven months with Smart Start, when in a bad mood, upon my crowded mind, returning Medicine unvaccinated from local vet who only will vaccinate by appointment, I was making this left turn, which I have made many years in Aransas Pass, and my mind ceased its immediate practical, and I did not wait for the green arrow to give me the right of way. This car switched lanes, came quickly and hit me. He crushed the back tire and door and shattered glass on Medicine, who though a pit is a freaky personality, fears explosions, gunfire, firecrackers, thunder. Cops, two or three available cars of them in sleepy Aransas Pass tx 78336, were there instantly. The other driver was a young Chicano guy, he had pulled over, came with babe in arms, asked me if I was ok. He said he had to go to jail because he had no driver’s license. Criminal Class forever. I see it he had been in some agitation, in his circumstance of penalty, how he was driving quickly. I told him I was sorry for getting him into all this. A young woman behind me offered her cell phone. I could not instantly work it so she called my phone, told Janet come get me and that I was hysterical. I had Medicine by his collar, not letting him bolt. His leash had been in the front seat and gone under seat. I just wanted him to not go to jail again. When Janet arrived, with Lyla of course, and I gave her Medicine, I had Medicine on leash to give her. It chanced the wrecker guy coming to haul the bashed car was son of Janet’s best friend, and expensive this was, I had the cash but forget.
Here is my first recorded traffic accident. Oh, I have been hit, and headed on, and once destroyed a mailbox, having fallen asleep behind wheel of car the sleepy driver who picked up me the hitchhiker had thought to let sleepy me drive for him. Entered a ditch of rain water, we had to walk into neighboring area – I forget which Texas town to roust a friend of his to pull his car from ditch – he the driver was a Texas Chicano, one of the easier going fellows, drunk but with wisdom, said: When trouble comes, it comes. Then we walked and got his friend.
The siblings take this well. Lyla’s car was totaled. Now we have no car. Driving me to AA or monthly chiropractor or Probation Officer is now done by a son of Janet‘s, Thomas. Thomas is otherwise unemployed but now on the Olive pay role. Siblings want Lyla to have no car till sometime Billy Frank is off probation and not so disturbed to be driving safely. The family is glad to get rid of this breathalyzer on Lyla’s car, which was insured anyway.
After the other paid for programs, right now I can remember neighboring Portland, a talented performer. Then was a day from MADD (Mothers Against Drunk Drivers), I think in neighboring Sinton, showing video carnage and having burned and bereaved people speak. I got to AA, and Drug Rehab in Aransas Pass.
In Aransas Pass tx 78336, AA is a little house converted to one room, with long table. There is at noon, a dozen and more, poor devils chain smoking chemicalized US cigarettes. There is this long table, that is a couple tables, then this head of a T, crossing table with little non-smoking sign. First day and second day I had not noticed the non-smoking section. There are normally 3 or 4 wiser alcoholics, non-smoking at this head of T. The routine is this circular dialogue, folks begin with: I am so and so and I am an alcoholic. My first, and second day, I agitated the group. I said my name is so and so but I am not an alcoholic but am here for punishment. This went badly. Indeed, this first day, there was one guy, whom I have not seen since, maybe he is killed or jailed, he had said anybody takes a single drink is an alcoholic.
By time I found I could get less toxins at head of the T, I also knew I did not have to say anything, could just say: I pass. Each session (these sessions are one hour) yet I rush back to toss clothes and to shower, washing hair of the carcinogens. Now I sit quietly, while they wish me to participate. At end of session all hold hands and recite I think this is The Lord’s Prayer. I never memorize it. I am the one who does not recite it. Hell, maybe I could be a Muslim.
But, first, to catch it up, I did the few months of Out Patient Service in Aransas Pass, tx 78336. Drug rehab, it was over all of a sudden, perhaps because I was actually enjoying it. I do not like being forced to any strange schedule – hell, I am an artist – but these two people, in their sixties, a Gary, a Shirley, let us call them, who are in AA, whom I like, have this two hours a couple of nights weekly but I only had to attend once a week – Janet back at the house with Lyla. Here would come a dozen or so a meeting mostly younger people, for drunk or cocaine and so forth. Gary and Shirley have been years back enslaved by booze and they do not know anything about other drugs. First hour would be a video, whether on drink or speed etc., second hour a free discussion. Their clients have had to tell them about “drugs,” cocaine, heroin, crack/speed etc. All which is big in Aransas Pass tx 78336. I was sitting too quietly, and both of them wanted me to contribute to conversation. Well, began I. I am just an old acid head. By time they were glad to graduate me, I was getting carried away. Things I said I had young guys laughing, and I had become the main event. A friend of Gary’s and Shirley’s, this psychologist, would be over from Corpus, and he would try to be more official than what I thought information everybody needed, and he was easy to chop off, could not fake his shit very decently, hell, I was probably older than he was too. I tell of the US government’s needing pot and psychedelics illegal because these drugs cause questioning of authority. I spoke of the value of these drugs, biologically, anthropologically and so forth. I was the hippie survivor, intense, muscular. When I “graduated” I was given peace sign by one older client. I have as Gary asked placed my diploma on my wall.
I see my probation officer once a month and attend AA of Aransas Pass once a week, at this point.
It has been harrowing yet not very real inside my mind.
I am more into the 9/11 cover-up. I’ve exchanged with Alan Miller who runs Patriotsquestion9/11. Two Septembers ago he began his site with 40 prominent names of people cognizant of the cover-up. At this point, May of 2008, he has 1200 plus names, the only ones not prominent being the witnesses, several blown from elevators and stairways by demolition explosions before the two planes hit the three buildings which sank. He has hundreds of engineers, and more than a hundred pilots yelling bullshit. “Those planes were drones I could not have flown that heavy a plane that fast and hit skyscrapers twice!” etc and forget the Pentagon and so on. How to get what he has into threatened schizoid Corporate News, I ponder. Well, he has much, much already.
AA in Aransas Pass tx 78336 is plenty interesting, and too bad I have to take Actifed just to sit in this shit, rush home to down one cup and shower and wash hair and change clothes and slug two more. Alcohol enhances decongestants and antihistamines, some inflicted do know.
The question: Is alcoholism genetically inherited, as AA claims, or is this concept but from our depraved society, children sexually molested or beat on by their fathers amidst the schizophrenia of what we get told in church and school and so on.
Bill Blackolive’s father some in the family had thought alcoholic. If this is mostly B.E’s wife, Lyla, who is not interested in drink, maybe too though Bill Blackolive’s sister, Bonnie, who is not interested in drink. There is Lyla, Bonnie, and, Mike, who be neither interested in drink, nor pot. Bill and Kelly like drink, and pot, though Kelly the pothead has wondered Bill in his straits is alcoholic. Bill drinks for any reason and is fat but tones his muscles and digests food and consequently in health/vanity, something US slobs do not think clearly on, will tire of drink inside a day. Not the next day, and the routine of an artist must push forth.
Shirley has intrigued me, saying a couple or more times that an alcoholic’s disease greatens inside the alcoholic’s age whether or not the alcoholic is given in to drink. By then I had understood I was officially excused to do my talk and I did question her. But, I think maybe I did never understand. Shirley said that at her age if she drinks she can die, it would be her end.
What can that be but psychological. Gary is another case, his dogmatically religious family and consequent temper of his parents got him going early, and he allowed to me he never got to even join the beatniks as had I, he was too drunk. He gave me all these written tests, but talked personally with me, and I saw his romanticism about ever being a beatnik. Quite interesting stuff, really, and I took interest in these Aransas Pass tx 78336 young individuals who came to Gary and Shirley’s twice weekly meetings.
On and on. When I was in jail and Kelly off work to care for Lyla he got this collection agency threat for the initial thousands, handled it then, before the bad dream of trying to spring me, but by now I sit at AA on Actifed and they pass the basket and like most others I place in it a dollar, and the others keep a smoking poison desperation forever and drink coffee. These people frequently have dirty hair and soiled clothes, speak of being ten or twenty or thirty years sober but it looks not. One old comic comes in drinking from his water bottle, mit der vodka is it, last time had these elbow coverings cut off a sweatshirt, time before that had cuts on his forearms. Oh, also he has a bunged up knee, bandaged from a trip to an MD. He flounders in slowly, a little late, sits down in one chair and fixes another chair where to place the hurt leg, and he is rather irreverent. He is an ex Marine, if that should matter outside our US of A. He said to me: If you are a drunk, this is the place to come.
It goes around table these stories and one day the ex-marine gave this that in the Marines one drinks and fights and he was sitting in a bar and somebody asks him to go outside and he says, well, pardner, I don’t know much about this fighting business, but I can go outside with you and show you what I do know. This sounded funny to my mind. This guy I like because though wasted forever he is irreverent. This guy is not religious about AA, but only sensing how to dodge more legal hassle.
In the fifties during my high school, I was taking insomnia, knew I would rather die than work for a living in this nation. Mexico, seen in 1958, was a delight, another atmosphere, jolly poor people in those days. My addiction was erotic romance, while I could support no woman. I love still all my poor women who got with me but I never met a sensible beauty as could objectively concern this alien sad brute. I had begun writing to get wealth from my soul age nineteen, and now I am worn, if still being sort of bodily young, if at least now cognizant of my sorry addiction.
A couple decades maybe ago, this last one of my crazy females, was this mid-thirties incest casualty in AA. I did go with her one day inside a three years to her Austin very crowded AA, which in fact she rarely went to, and I saw this ”My name is so and so and I am an alcoholic” routine. She painted, great stuff, vigorous. I love her, but, now, I can check her out, Google her out of an Austin gallery, and see these detailed/controlled very boring, drugged works. She went to Prozac, I think, as had my wife beloved Charmaine.
What had happened back then, nearly two decades ago, her sick mother who supported her financially from some kind of inheritance, and had this grip and both of their fear of exposing the father’s rapes, had me jailed for stalking. Nobody was stalking, but the raped daughter would come screaming to some old amigo’s address, or come screaming drunk to find me where I homeless slept in bushy areas, certain nests, with dogs, along Austin’s creeks. She was awful, in this conflict of soul. She was pressured between the supportive mom and family shame, and, the lover in the bushes. So, I got through that shit, much financial help from brother Kelly. Lyla (and my sinking father) never knew. Court scene was plead nolo contendere but why tell all this I have told before right now. Ah, I had said to the judge, no, I am not guilty of any of these charges, and my lawyer had to jump up and tell me this is what we are doing right now….
Save my precious…time and …money?…In…a…democracy…ah.
One understands, from all available information, this nation has the very most serial killers and baby rape, more here than in Canada and Mexico or Europe or China or Africa, and, these poor devils blathering the glory of AA in their AA meetings in Aransas pass tx 78336 are much like the rest of the AA bastards nation-wide US of A, and, mostly they are likeable. Here are our neighbors, good folk.
Legendary zinester, author of zine Last Laugh, books Talex of the Texas Gang and Emeryville War. email: txgang@localnet.com Would you like to order a book? Jeff Potter is now publishing copies of Texas Gang, as well as several other of Bill’s books: here.
Recent Comments