Crows

Every year around the first half of November they start to trickle in. By the latter part of December they blacken the skies around dusk. Crows, too many to count, come to roost here in midtown. They fill the trees like giant black foliage and a constant cacophony fills the air where they roost. Some people I have talked to say that all of those crows seem ominous and foreboding. I suppose the sight of them does have a Stephen King Novel like vibe if you are unaccustomed to seeing them. Having spent many years off and on in this area, their arrival is one of familiarity and a marker of time to me.

Instinct is what brings the crows back to midtown every winter. They leave but they always come back. In that respect I share a common ground with these birds. I’ve left the area to start a new life, get married, chase the allotted 2.3 kids, 1.5 cars, whatever the national average is for the American dream. When it didn’t work out I came home. I have also left for other reasons. I went to prison the last time I left and that is what this post is really about.

I walked out of the Federal Prison in Rochester Minnesota almost 10 years ago, got on a bus with a shoebox and a trash bag of belongings and came home to midtown Kansas City. The reason I originally started this blog was in part to write about those wasted years. I thought I would try my hand at writing about day to day trivial stuff, and work my courage up to writing about prison and what led me there. So that’s where I am at. I realize that not everyone will be interested in this subject matter, and some may get all judgmental and stop reading altogether.

That’s okay, I never set out to be a widely read blogger. I write to pass time, attempt to be humorous or to get things off of my chest. I know it is a cliché, but writing is cathartic for me.
If you ever wanted to know what prison is like without experiencing it first hand, and who could blame you, then you may find some of the stuff I will be writing of interest. I'll change some places and names, for my own protection, otherwise it's as accurate as I can make it. There wont be long diatribes about how I got screwed over by the system, I didn’t. There wont be excuses or claims that I’m a product of my environment. There wont be a shifting of the blame, I take full credit for all of my misdeeds.

I will still make lame attempts at humor, I will still dazzle you with marginal writing skill, but with an occasional trip down a memory lane that most people would wisely never choose to travel So there it is. And like the Crows I hope that you will continue to return to this little corner of Midtown Kansas City.