Prison has a way of causing a man to spend a lot of time in quiet introspection as well as in reliving the past and rekindling memories of yesteryear...
This is because, not only does a man living in a cinder block and steel cage have more time on his hands to think and reminisce, but prison life is often unpleasant. Thus many men find that living in the past and living off old memories is better than living in the present.
In addition, in this environment there are degrees of monotony and routine which limit a man's life. For instance I cannot go to the beach or go bicycle riding. I can't go to a baseball game or out to eat with friends. And so the day-to-day things which the average man can do with his life are not available to me. Therefore, daydreaming is common, and it's usually done automatically. Dwelling on past relationships and events is part of the way a man does his time.
For me, being that it's Father's Day, there's been no lack of daydreaming. My mind has been flooded with many precious memories from long ago. Like when my parents would rent a bungalow every summer. Every summer my dad closed our neighborhood hardware store for a week to ten days, and we'd head for the Smokey Bear Cottages in the little hamlet of Bolton Landing in upstate New York. This was a short distance north of the popular tourist town known as Lake George.
And if the Smokey Bear Cottages are still in business, then they've probably changed ownership at least several times since my family was last there in the mid-1960s. But I loved swimming in the huge lake. I'd dive off the wooden pier which jutted out into the fresh water. I also loved going on the lake in a rowboat or sometimes riding in the speedboat which belonged to the owners of the cottages. I was also able to take my little rod and reel and fish off the pier, almost never catching anything. I went horseback riding too at a nearby stable.
Summers were special for me. But the last time I was in the Lake George area was in 1966. It was in late spring or very early summer in 1967 when my mother was diagnosed with cancer. Therefore, since she was in the hospital, that season's plans were cancelled. In fact we never made it to Lake George ever again because in October of 1967 my mother would die. Nevertheless I still have memories of swimming in that big lake and splashing my parents with water as we floated on inner tubes under a hot sun.
So on this Father's Day I am reliving some good memories that not even prison authorities could ever take away.
D.B.
In addition, in this environment there are degrees of monotony and routine which limit a man's life. For instance I cannot go to the beach or go bicycle riding. I can't go to a baseball game or out to eat with friends. And so the day-to-day things which the average man can do with his life are not available to me. Therefore, daydreaming is common, and it's usually done automatically. Dwelling on past relationships and events is part of the way a man does his time.
For me, being that it's Father's Day, there's been no lack of daydreaming. My mind has been flooded with many precious memories from long ago. Like when my parents would rent a bungalow every summer. Every summer my dad closed our neighborhood hardware store for a week to ten days, and we'd head for the Smokey Bear Cottages in the little hamlet of Bolton Landing in upstate New York. This was a short distance north of the popular tourist town known as Lake George.
And if the Smokey Bear Cottages are still in business, then they've probably changed ownership at least several times since my family was last there in the mid-1960s. But I loved swimming in the huge lake. I'd dive off the wooden pier which jutted out into the fresh water. I also loved going on the lake in a rowboat or sometimes riding in the speedboat which belonged to the owners of the cottages. I was also able to take my little rod and reel and fish off the pier, almost never catching anything. I went horseback riding too at a nearby stable.
Summers were special for me. But the last time I was in the Lake George area was in 1966. It was in late spring or very early summer in 1967 when my mother was diagnosed with cancer. Therefore, since she was in the hospital, that season's plans were cancelled. In fact we never made it to Lake George ever again because in October of 1967 my mother would die. Nevertheless I still have memories of swimming in that big lake and splashing my parents with water as we floated on inner tubes under a hot sun.
So on this Father's Day I am reliving some good memories that not even prison authorities could ever take away.
D.B.
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