reminscing and burning out.

Last week, the Department held a luncheon on the lawn at the regional office for all the secretaries at the surrounding units.  Before we left ours, the assistant superintendent of programs tracked us all down and pinned corsages on our blouses.  And not only that, the other two superintendents waited at that gate beside vans they had reserved for the day and held the doors open for us to enter - and then they drove us to the regional office.  Man, did we feel special as we rode in the inmate transport vehicles.  We did, really.  It was a nice gesture, and we were appreciative.

And then they fed us, made speeches, gave us gifts and let us socialize for two hours.  The socializing is the best part.

When a person leaves one unit in DOC and goes to another, you can bet your bottom dollar you will see him/her again.  There was the psychologist who was riffed to another unit.  He was fun when we worked together.  There was Janet, who stopped me and said - You've worked with us for a long time, now!  And she's right.  Actually, I worked with them before I worked with them.  I was once their lunchtime waitress.  So I knew a lot of people before ever stepping through the gates.

One of those was a man I call Uh huh Johnny.  He was a splash of color in all that dull concrete - always spoke of himself in third person, and always preceded a sentence with "uh huh!"

"Uh, huh, Johnny knows, yes he does!"

He was great, no matter how strange he sounds.  He worked with the mental health crew in rehab and ran the greenhouse.  He told me once that he used to sprinkle the pepper seeds from the shakers at pizza restaurants, take them home in a napkin and plant them at home.  Of course they grew.  There was nothing he planted that did not.

I knew him years before I worked with him, and when I went to Real Prison, there was Johnny, wanting to put me at ease.  And he did.

I was reading over my domain weblog tonight, and came across an entry from four years ago.  I had chronicled a hot July day when everything was crazy, and Johnny was in it.

One thing I've learned, also, about DOC employees is that when they retire, they never look back.  They seem to disappear from the face of the earth.  I haven't seen Johnny once in the two years since he retired, and I know why.  He was done with all of it, people included.

I did some checking today...If I'm very good and sock back the amount of cash I think I can sock back (God willing!), I can retire in 10 years. Not sure I'll fall of the earth and never be seen again, but I do know I've seen enough over the last decade and won't want to see anything else from prison.