Double D

(Similar to 8/27 Journal entry)

Oy.

Something about a gigantic prison surrounded by concrete and razor wire, guard posts peeking out above, is so unsettling.

It's so jarring to be driving along in the city, you turn a corner, and boom! there's an enormous facility warehousing thousands of people. I don't know what I expected -- something more like Attica (NY) prison out in the country, or Atascadero (CA), situated in the rolling hillsides, but it's such an affront to come upon this --thing--and more disturbing is the notion of all these people whose lives have gone so wrong. Just looking at the outside of that hole makes me wonder how he ever let his life slide so much that he wound up there in the first place.

It was such an incredibly hot & humid day. I took the Mustang and realized about half-way to Chicago that I should have taken the Malibu--I put the top up when we got there, but still felt very vulnerable--I don't know why exactly--the danger was supposedly behind bars.

There was no *civilian* parking, so I parked around the corner in front of a bodega, while my son hiked a block or two to retrieve his personal effects (including a paycheck, car keys, & jewelry).
After about a half hour, I was really baking and the diuretic effect of my morning heart meds. had kicked in pretty bad, so I cruised westward in search of some relief. I was quite surprised to find a clean-looking 31 Flavors/ Dunkin Donuts within walking distance of the prison. I'm pretty sure that by then I was in Little Mexico.
I never use facilities without buying something--I know, really lame-- but I felt like treating myself anyway, so after I was *buzzed* into the ladies room (first time for this suburban girl--keys yes, buzzers, not until now), I got a small mocha iced coffee drink. Took it back to the prison area, and still couldn't find a bit of shade to park the car in, that wasn't already occupied.

Thankfully, my son returned soon after I finished my drink.
We made our way back to the land of the bland-- then to the local police station to get a receipt to present the towing company. Lo & behold, my son was able to talk the towing company into dropping the fees by half (as he's been on house arrest for a week, and could only retrieve it as of today).
So it is done.

Son is doing a decent job of housekeeping--it's the first time in a long time that he hasn't lived like an absolute pig. He's done all the laundry for the past week, cleaned the bathrooms top to bottom, vacuumed, dusted, cooked. I ask him to do it-- he does it.

It's pretty good--not that I'm forgetting about all the damage done. Nope, all the good behavior in the world won't do that.

Right now I'm liking having my son around. In the past we'd often enjoy each other's company--on the way to the city today we cranked up the radio & sang to music from my era (Pink Floyd, Grateful Dead, Doobie Brothers, Led Zep). For a little while things seemed *normal.* But real normality will be when he's moved on.