In The Middle

Life, Family, Yoga, Stuff


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Convict Cards

A few months ago I got a call from a yoga student that had an interesting question.  He knew someone who was incarcerated.  His friend and about 15 other guys practice yoga in the prison.  The bad news was this.  They’d just had their yoga mats taken away due to some sort of regulation, like a fire hazard, etc.  They were issued some different mats but they were told they were too long.  Looks like someone was making it hard for them to practice if you ask me.

The new mats that they were approved to use were $65 a piece, retail price.  Yikes.  They needed like 15 of these and of course, when you’re locked up you get like $8.50 per month.  If you have a job assignment while you’re in there, you can make like $20 a month.  Big money.  Another yoga teacher and I put our heads together.  We were thinking the Yoga Mala could help but did we really want to wait until June 19 to get the loot?  Not really. 

We sent out e-mails to students and teachers that we knew would be interested in helping.  We made announcements in our classes too.  Within 10 days (yep) we had the money that we needed.  We also purchased the mats at the wholesale price since we already had an account with the company that sold them.  It’s amazing what people will do to help when times are apparently so tough.  I received this thank you card in the mail the other day.  It was done in pencil and crayon.  They even made the envelope for it out of folded paper and they created a convict card logo for the back as well.  Each inmate signed the card with a special note of thanks. 

I think it’s great that yoga has found it’s way into facilities of this nature and perhaps when they are released, they will see the world in a different light.


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Exposed

It was Mother’s Day, a few years ago and I was working the counter at my video store that Sunday afternoon.  There were a few people in the store, all women until a guy walked thru the door.  I knew him, he’d been a regular.  I hadn’t seen him in awhile and I remember thinking, “wow, he looks beefed up in the arms” he was also sporting very short hair.  Jail, was my immediate thought as to where he’d been.  He was wearing a ball hat, a t-shirt, jeans with holes in them and a vest, a long vest with the sleeves cut off. 

I was getting information from a new member (a lady) when he approached the counter and asked a question.  I looked up from my paperwork.  He had his hand in the pocket of his vest and flashed it open to reveal, you know, hanging out of the hole in his jeans.  I had my hand on my brow line and honestly, tried not to laugh!  I ignored him.  He walked away, I conducted business with that lady and she left.  He was still in the store.  Honestly, if you were going to expose yourself, would you do it at someplace that you normally frequent? 

At this time, there were still people, women only, in the store.  Great.  He approached the counter once again.  Yep, flashed twice in one day!  This time, I laughed out loud.  Though a bit shaken, my thoughts immdiately were, “Why is he doing that?”  “That can’t be real.”  “What an idiot, I have all of his info!”  He walked out of the store.  I guess he didn’t get the rise out of me that he wanted.  I didn’t shriek, or scream “oh my God!”  I stayed calm.  I had all of his information in the computer, plus a black and white copy of his drivers’ license from back when we used to copy that for our files.

I called my husband who was at work (and was a police officer for 20 years) and now works in public safety.  He said he couldn’t talk, he was trying to catch a weenie exposer.  I laughed and said, “oh really.”  I thought he was kidding, but he wasn’t.   I told him I’d just been flashed.  He asked me what the guy was wearing.  Same guy, not kidding, driving all over town! 

Since I had all his info, he got busted.  The funny part was when we went to court like a year later.  Here was the other girl he flashed with her mom, me and the guy who made her report (who also happens to be my husband), as well as the police officer who made my report.  Weird day at court that day!

It gets better.  A couple of months ago, my husband asked me to go to a store and get him a certain type of moisture wicking t-shirt.  The girl at the counter said, “Ask that guy, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  So I walked up to the guy at a counter, with his head down.  Low and behold, there stood the flasher.  I blushed, said thanks, got my shirt and sped out of there. 

Beware of guys with holes in their pants.