by Pa Rock
Jailbird
I awoke this morning to the shocking news that I had been sent to Twitter jail, commonly referred to as "Twitmo," for a period of "three days and zero hours." The sentence did not allude to the specific crime that landed me in the pokey, nor was I given an indication of which bum ratted me out.
I have been on Twitter since June of 2009 and this is the first time that I have run afoul of the tweet police. I will admit to having gotten a lot snarkier with age - and with the rise of Trump's Fourth Reich, so I probably earned this rebuke from the Twitter Gods. (It's a rare day when I don't tweet something mean - or at least rude - about Trump, members of his family, Mitch McConnell, Matt Gaetz, Jim Jordan, or Ronna Romney McDaniel - but sometime yesterday I must have crossed a bridge too far.)
I'm not exactly sure what it means to be in "Twitmo" because so far I am still able to tweet and see responses to my tweets. I am not, however, able to see the tweets of individuals whom I am following. I have already tweeted out a request for a virtual cake with a hacksaw, and I also think that as long as I am here I will see about getting a couple of prison tats!
Coincidentally, today at The Writer's Almanac, there were a couple of prison stories. First, on this date in 1895 British novelist, dramatist, poet, and all-around wit, Oscar Wilde, was arrested in Room 118 of the Cadogan Hotel in London for gross indecency (sodomy) and sent to prison for two years at hard labor. Wilde had sued the father of one of his male friends for slander after the old man had publicly accused him of being a "sodomite." Unfortunately for Oscar, the old fellow succeeded in convincing the court that Wilde was indeed a sodomite, and he was arrested at the Cadogan Hotel the day after the verdict was read. It was while Oscar Wilde was in prison that he wrote the poem, "The Ballad of the Reading Gaol." Wilde died a couple of years after being released, his death undoubtedly hastened by the rough experience of prison.
The Writer's Almanac also informed me that today is the birthday of the late country singer and songwriter, Merle Haggard. Haggard, a native of Bakersfield, California, had already served time in prison when he wrote his first song, "Branded Man." He went on to record more that six hundred songs, forty of which reached number one on the country charts.
Haggard's "Okie from Muskogee" was a hit on the country and pop charts - and while he may have never smoked "marijuana in Muskogee," he reportedly did partake in many other locations!
I had the pleasure of seeing Merle Haggard perform several years ago in Branson. He was an exceptional entertainer with a unique perspective on American life - and an ability to tell his stories in a way that resonated across society.
(I guess it's understandable that one branded man would gravitate to the works of another!)
Branded Man
by Merle Haggard
Jailbird
I awoke this morning to the shocking news that I had been sent to Twitter jail, commonly referred to as "Twitmo," for a period of "three days and zero hours." The sentence did not allude to the specific crime that landed me in the pokey, nor was I given an indication of which bum ratted me out.
I have been on Twitter since June of 2009 and this is the first time that I have run afoul of the tweet police. I will admit to having gotten a lot snarkier with age - and with the rise of Trump's Fourth Reich, so I probably earned this rebuke from the Twitter Gods. (It's a rare day when I don't tweet something mean - or at least rude - about Trump, members of his family, Mitch McConnell, Matt Gaetz, Jim Jordan, or Ronna Romney McDaniel - but sometime yesterday I must have crossed a bridge too far.)
I'm not exactly sure what it means to be in "Twitmo" because so far I am still able to tweet and see responses to my tweets. I am not, however, able to see the tweets of individuals whom I am following. I have already tweeted out a request for a virtual cake with a hacksaw, and I also think that as long as I am here I will see about getting a couple of prison tats!
Coincidentally, today at The Writer's Almanac, there were a couple of prison stories. First, on this date in 1895 British novelist, dramatist, poet, and all-around wit, Oscar Wilde, was arrested in Room 118 of the Cadogan Hotel in London for gross indecency (sodomy) and sent to prison for two years at hard labor. Wilde had sued the father of one of his male friends for slander after the old man had publicly accused him of being a "sodomite." Unfortunately for Oscar, the old fellow succeeded in convincing the court that Wilde was indeed a sodomite, and he was arrested at the Cadogan Hotel the day after the verdict was read. It was while Oscar Wilde was in prison that he wrote the poem, "The Ballad of the Reading Gaol." Wilde died a couple of years after being released, his death undoubtedly hastened by the rough experience of prison.
The Writer's Almanac also informed me that today is the birthday of the late country singer and songwriter, Merle Haggard. Haggard, a native of Bakersfield, California, had already served time in prison when he wrote his first song, "Branded Man." He went on to record more that six hundred songs, forty of which reached number one on the country charts.
Haggard's "Okie from Muskogee" was a hit on the country and pop charts - and while he may have never smoked "marijuana in Muskogee," he reportedly did partake in many other locations!
I had the pleasure of seeing Merle Haggard perform several years ago in Branson. He was an exceptional entertainer with a unique perspective on American life - and an ability to tell his stories in a way that resonated across society.
(I guess it's understandable that one branded man would gravitate to the works of another!)
Branded Man
by Merle Haggard
I'd like to hold my head up and be proud of who I am
But they won't let my secret go untold
I paid the debt I owed them, but they're still not satisfied
Now I'm a branded man out in the cold
When they let me out of prison, I held my head up high
Determined I would rise above the shame
But no matter where I'm living, the black mark follows me
I'm branded with a number on my name
I'd like to hold my head up and be proud of who I am
But they won't let my secret go untold
I paid the debt I owed them, but they're still not satisfied
Now I'm a branded man out in the cold
If I live to be a hundred, I guess I'll never clear my name
'Cause everybody knows I've been in jai
No matter where I'm living, I've got to tell them where I've been
Or they'll send me back to prison if I fail
I'd like to hold my head up and be proud of who I am
But they won't let my secret go untold
I paid the debt I owed them, but they're still not satisfied
Now I'm a branded man out in the cold
Now I'm a branded man out in the cold
But they won't let my secret go untold
I paid the debt I owed them, but they're still not satisfied
Now I'm a branded man out in the cold
When they let me out of prison, I held my head up high
Determined I would rise above the shame
But no matter where I'm living, the black mark follows me
I'm branded with a number on my name
I'd like to hold my head up and be proud of who I am
But they won't let my secret go untold
I paid the debt I owed them, but they're still not satisfied
Now I'm a branded man out in the cold
If I live to be a hundred, I guess I'll never clear my name
'Cause everybody knows I've been in jai
No matter where I'm living, I've got to tell them where I've been
Or they'll send me back to prison if I fail
I'd like to hold my head up and be proud of who I am
But they won't let my secret go untold
I paid the debt I owed them, but they're still not satisfied
Now I'm a branded man out in the cold
Now I'm a branded man out in the cold
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