Ride Free

On the way back from the jail shower this morning February 3, 2011, one of the deputies who was escorting me mentioned a biker video and his wish that he could just ride free like the bikers in the video. I piped up and said, “But oh, you can!”

He replied, “Yah, but how would I put gas in the bike?” and I stupidly retorted, “You'd figure out a way, legally, to do it. People would feel for you and help you out.”

I wish we could have carried on the conversation, but before we could get much further we were back at my cell and the deputy removed the handcuffs and then went about his duties.

I've been here in Riverside county jail for over two years now, and I have never had a single conversation with any of the jail staff. The most I have ever spoken with them is in little snatches, like this morning, and even then only rarely. Usually when I am being escorted I keep quiet, which I suspect the deputies prefer since any conversation at all with me could potentially land them in a witness box, a fate that they generally rue.

But, if I could have continued our conversation this morning I would have liked to explain to that deputy (who seems to be a genuinely nice person) that he wouldn't need to depend on handouts for gas either (which even I would not abide). With just a little planning he could arrange to work for his fuel as needed (which wouldn't be much if the bike were in good condition), or even live off investments.

I would have enjoyed discussing the possibilities because it is something that I have often thought about. In my thoughts (and I mentioned this also to the deputy just before our conversation was cut off, but did not have a chance to explain), if I had just jumped on a bike and took off after the first time I got out of prison then I would never have felt the need to “get even” (i.e. rape and murder) with society.

Why? Because I would have been FREE! The entire time I was on parole I never felt free and frequently expressed this sentiment to anyone who would listen, especially the parole officers. I thought I would feel free after I got off of parole, but the sex offender laws would never allow that either.

I was confined to being a “sex offender” for the rest of my life and this confinement amounted to numerous and often painful restrictions on my existence. It determined were I could live, work, even play. I couldn't even engage in normal adult social activities without feeling the chains of my confinement chaffing against my psyche. The sex offender laws made me a pariah; state sanctioned discrimination in the most insidious form ever, driving sex offenders to re-offend by undermining their social support structures. Study after study prove that a good social support structure is essential to keeping an x-offender out of trouble. So why do we keep passing laws that make it practically impossible for a person to be socially accepted?

Because we love sex crimes in the news that's why. The popular media cashes in on this perverse love all the time, so there's no point in denying it. I never had a chance to not reoffend, it was just a matter of time.

But, if I had ridden off on a bike I could have escaped the prison of pariahism (hey, I know that's not a real word, but just go along with me here) by remaining anonymous and slipped the sex offender chains completely. So my frustration would not have festered in stagnant confines of social laws and I would not have ever felt the need to lash out in desperation at the perceived source of my misery.

There are actually many “sex offenders” who have made this kind of escape from social bounds, which the authorities are only too happy to constantly remind us. It implies that the reason sex crimes aren't going away in spite of all the intense new laws, is because of all the “unregistered sex offenders” out there. But what they don't tell you is that as a group, “unregistered sex offenders” are practically invisible (i.e. off the criminal justice radar). That's because very few of them reoffend. The overwhelming majority of them who do get arrested do so for not registering, not for committing some new crime. And every single one of them site the same reason for not registering: so they can socialize without fear, not so they can commit new crimes.

I don't suppose I'll ever get a chance to say all this to any of the deputies here in jail, though the information (in the right mind) could go a long way toward helping someone understand why I did what I did, and much more importantly, suggest ways to keep it from happening again (hint: killing me to “send a message” is not only barbaric, it only makes the problem worse!)

Someday society will understand, and maybe then we'll all ride free!