The journal of Dennis McGuire


What a difference a day makes...twenty-four little hours. I have no idea how many dozens of recording artists have recorded that song over the past 50 years, but my favorite version of it remains the version Neil Sedaka recorded on an album of his about 30 years ago. But then, I'm one of the biggest Sedaka fans in the United States and nothing that man does is less than wonderful in my book. I still think he's the greatest and most versatile songwriter of my generation, and I'm proud to have seen him in concert at least half a dozen times. So, that particular song (which Sedaka had nothing to do with writing) popped into my head the day after I put my last journal entry into the mail late Sunday night. Let's see, if I recall correctly, I was upbeat in that entry for a change, about just about everything except my on-again, off-again relationship with Dr. Dre. It was off again at that time, and had been for 26 days. Guess what? It's on again. Surprised? I'm not. I knew I was still in love with that boy, and as long as we are in the same dorm together, I will always love him with a passion and we will never stay away from each other indefinitely. There's too much chemistry between us. He knows me too well. I'm still learning about him ans still don't understand his ways completely, but I know full well that I love this guy and I would regret forever giving him up. So that very night after putting Journal Entry #13 into the mailbox, and only shortly after telling Mike next door how I hand't had anything to do with Dr. Dre all month but I missed him like crazy, I couldn't resist the temptation to mess with him a little bit as I passed his cubicle on my way to the bathroom. He was laying down and I reached in and rubbed his foot real quick as I walked by. He knew it was me and I saw him smile. Then, when I walked back by, he said something to me and I stopped at his cubicle just to talk for a minute. Then I looked over at the commodes where I had just been and I saw Mike sitting there looking at me, shaking his head and smiling. I knew he was thinking, "You old bastard, I KNEW you couldn't stay away from Dre." Of course he was right! I kept my distance while talkign to Dre, but gradually moved closer into his cubicle and then finally sat down next to him. It felt great when I finally got around to putting my hands on him again and the old displays of affection like it had always been between us finally returned. Nobody else I've ever been with in prison have I ever been as comfortable and affectionate with. It was 11:45 when I stopped at the entrance to his cubicle and 1a.m. when I got around to leaving. Much happened, much was accomplished. I guess he had missed being with me about as much as I had missed being with him. I let him sleep through breakfast since the next day was a school day for him and I knew he needed the sleep. I was kind of worn out, too, but happy again, happier than I had been all month. Since then, we're talking at least a little a day and I know he's wanting to get together with me at some point tonight. We'll soon see if that's possible.


Well, hell, I may as well give up trying to listen to the radio tonight. We're under a severe thunderstorm warning again and a flash flood warning, and the National Weather Service is interrupting all the radio stations in the area with weather alerts every few minutes. The unit is locked down, too, until this mess moves on through. I hope it's moved through by breakfast-time in another 5 and a half hoursbecause we have a good breakfast coming up and a lot of us want to go. There is no covering any kind from this building to halfway to the chow hall and some of us don't wanna get drenched in the middle of the night. Especially those of us who have been sick for the past month.

Nothing happened with Dre last night because too many people in here stayed up all night instead of going to sleep, and I was still aggravated from being in a bad mood from lack of sleep. So I went on to sleep a little earlier than usual. I plan to go over and attack Dre (affectionately) at some point tonight, unless the weather makes me sleep too heavily.

Work was good again last week (Monday-Thursday nights) except for another incident I was involved in on the second night. A new "tenant" of ours in II-building upstairs in Solitary cell #13 tried to cheat and swindle me and my officers out of another tray of food at breakfast-time and when I spoke up and assured my officers that he had been given his tray (by me) and that I had not accidentally skipped his cell, he took it upon himself to throw an entire bowl-full of water on me when I went back by to pick up his tray, at which point I immediately marched myself downstairs to the food cart and picked up one of the leftover full pitchers of hot coffee, marched right back upstairs, walked to the door of his cell and hurled that pitcher of coffee from the cell door all the way to the back wall of that cell, soaking the sheets and whatever else may have been in there. The inmate was off to the side and missed getting soaked. Too bad. No officer was around to see what he did and what I did, so I then went over to the office and told Officers Johnson and Stanley exactly what happened. They went upstairs to see for themselves what had happened and to try to placate this guy who was now clamoring to see the Sergeant or the Lieutenant. The officers were scared to get any rank involved because it would have come out that they allowed me, an inmate, to serve the food trays, which is technically against the rules. And, of course, I'm not supposed to retaliate against these thugs, no matter what is said or done to me. I have lost my temper several times with inmates in that building and just very recently been lectured and counseled about retaliation and possibly "assaulting" another inmate. But, sorry, I will NOT tolerate being disrespected or BULLIED by any Inmate ever again, no matter who they are or who they THINK they are. No more. This incident was hushed up and smoothed out (that guy was gone two days later) but one day I may lose my job and get a disciplinary case because someone pushed me too far. We'll see!


God is great. Beer is good. And people are crazy. Strange little song, that one, but catchy nonetheless. It's one of those I wake up with stuck in my head, for some reason. Yesterday it was "Out Last Night" by Kenny Chesney. Before that, it was "I Told You So," Carrie Underwood's version. I'm thinking of adding that "God is great" business to my ever-growing list of favorite sayings and philosophies of life, which include "I wish I didn't know now what I didn't know then" and "I don't have a witness and I can't prove it, but that's my story and I'm stickin' to it."

I know what you're thinkin'. You're thinkin' "McGuire, you're listening to country music on the radio again." And you're right. I'm even startin' to write lika country misc song, by droppin' the "g's" from the ends of words. So all right, dammnit, back to rock n' roll.

So here we are, well into our little semi-annual lockdown. I hate these things, for the most part. It's been seven days of this one so far, and I enjoy the unlimited sleep time, but I miss getting to see what's on TV. Incredible things are happening on the Young and the Restless, since we're into May sweeps, and we're missing these shows, which are now irretrievably lost- never to be seen again! As I always tell everyone who so sarcastically says how easy it is to pick right back up with the story, "Yeah, it's just like reading about half-way into a really good Dean Koontz novel or a Stephen King story and then having someon just arbitrarily rip out about 3,4,5 pages ahead of you. Sure, with some imagination, you'll pick back up the story-line and figure out what's going on, but just think of the detail and the quality of the author's work that you have missed, been denied, and which is now irretrievably lost...never to be seen again!" Trust me, It IS the same thing. It IS a valid analogy. Also, of secondary importance, I miss keeping up with waht's going on in the real world, since we're missing the nightly newscasts, too. I don't know who decided it was a good idea to keep the TVs off during these unnecessary lockdowns, but if I ever find out who came up with some of these ideas, I might like to get my hands around his rotten neck for about 30 seconds or so. I've been saying for at least two months or so that I wish this unit would go on lockdown and stay on lockdown for at least 60 days, preferably 90, but now that we're actually on lockdown, and only 7 days into it, I've changed my tune. Couldn't they at least have waited until May sweeps were over?

Since I wrote the last journal entry on May 2, it has been a pretty boring month of May for ol' Dennis. Work and four days off. Rain. I declared the month of May a total wash-out back on May 10, I think, because of so much rain. I'm tired of it. Bored with thunder F lightning.

Chris Brown's 20th birthday came and went on May 5th, and while I still like everything I've ever heard him sing, the guy really let me down and disappointed me by so savagely and brutally beating up Rhianna. She is such a lovely girl. I have a vicious streak and much suppressed anger, too, but I could never see me so out of control as to assault a female like that. But then again, when I think of three or four female guards on this unit and on the old unit that earned and richly deserved a good ass-whipping and hwo I'd like to have been the one to give it to 'em, I realize that's different. They deserve it. I don't see how Rhianna did.

Well, frustrations abound. Too much sleep. Too little sleep. Not enough food. Being kept too cold when I wanna be warm. Having my show kept from me. These things are not good, one thing after another, one on top of another. Not good. THe relationship with Dre has been a sore point all month. It's been off more than it's been on this month. When I finally declared it officially over and done with on May 17th, damned if he doesn't show up here in my cubicle four nights later at 5:30 in the morning, as if all is well and nothing has been any different between us. He has me so wrapped around his little finger just like Midget did, but I guess as long as I know that and acan deal with it, I'll live with things the way they are with him. Nobody likes Dre. Nobody I've every loved like I love Dre. Not even Midget. Or Sunny-side. Maybe.

I miss my officers that I work for in II Building. I hope they're doing okay without me! I'll bet that building is a mess! I'll bet the officers are NOT keepign my building nearly as clean as when I'M there. They'll be glad to see me when this cruel and merciless lockdown is over.

Well, so here it is getting farily late on Wednesday night. Time to eat something and head back to the radio. Have you heard Brad Paisley's new song "Then?" Why is it that when I hear the lines "now you're my whole life, now you're my whole world" my eyes tear up and I look over at Dre? Hmm...more later.

09 July 2009

Wow, I realized that it has been an entire month since I last wrote an entry in my journal. Where did all that time go? I know that this heat and high humidity have sapped my energy and enthusiasm for doing much of anything. However, you know I am the LAST inmate on this unit to complain about being hot. After at least eight months of bitching and moaning and complaining to everyone and no one about being kept cold, the last thing I am about to do is even give the appearance of suffering from the heat. Believe me, I am savoring every hour of this summer weather.I am actually comfortable in my cubicle right now. I am able to walk around with no shoes and socks and pants on. I like showing off my feet and legs and a few of the guys might lust for me, but the only one I'm interested in keeping the attention of is Dre. More on that in a moment. Anyway, we've had a slight dip below normal in the temperatures at night, and I don't care for that a bit, as I need for it to be about 5 or 6 degrees warmer. When it's getting down to 68 or 69 at night and they're still runnign the fans incessantly, it still makes my cubicle the coolest spot in the dorm, and I am sick to death of being cool and have no desire to be cool until at least the end of September. I'd rather sweat than shiver. It's actually too oppressively hot in my "office" (the supply closet) where I work in II-building, but it doesn't seem so long ago that I sat in there in the dead middle of the night and shivered, I was so cold. Nope- keep me warm and let me enjoy the heat, or I WILL bitch.

Independence Day came and went a few days ago and I got to thinking, as an inmate, who is that really for? People who are independent. We're certainly not! That day has no relevance for those of us who are incarcerated, except to recognize it and to observe it the way it was originally intended- as a remembrance of the day our country began its independence from England, back in 1776. One day in the near future, I'll be independent again and will be observing that day with a renewed enthusiasm.

Work has been good every night the last few weeks. I continue to get along great with all the officers I work with in II-building, and with most of the inmates. There's still the occasional one I have to chastise for disrespecting me with this "old school" insult, and I have to lose my patience with some for bugging and nagging me by calling my name too much. But all in all, I've got it good, and I know it.

After months of constant ups and downs and happiness and miseries with Dre, the relationship came to a climatic point the night before I began writing this entry of my Journal. After being neglected and ignored by him one too many times, I had decided to accept that the relationship we had once enjoyed was declared officially over and dead on Sunday, July 5. I would be cordial and respectful when spoken to, but we would be just acquaintances from that point on. I was sick to death of his constant attention and devotion to Kilo, and was worried about new attention coming his way from my new little gay-boy buddy Nicholas. But just as I was psyching myself up to let Dre go, damned if he doesnt' come over to my cubicle to provoke me into a reaction over some incriminating new gossip and rumors about me, and he says we need to talk. I wasn't going to indulge him and subject myself to any more of that kind of aggravation, but he sent another inmate, a neighbor of mine, to summon me over to his cubicle, and I went, and we talked. I found out that he had recently become aware of SOME (not ALL) of my recent, let's say...extra cirricular activites involving guys in this pod, and in II-building, and in 12-building. It seems that I've been quite the little tramp in the hours when I'm not in his sight, all the while telling him how much I love him and how special he is to me. It seems also that I have been tattle-taled on by some of these guys that I've been with that apparently enjoyed their experiences with me so much that they just couldn't keep it to themselves. They just simply had to run over and brag to Dre that they had done this or that with ole Dennis and they just knew he would be thrilled to know this. Of course, every guy in this pod that I've messed around with in the year I've been here knows that I am the only guy Dre has messed around with in here and they know he's the only one I really give a shit about, but boy they just can't resist at least trying to find out what I've got and what he's been getting, and how good it is. So, me with my weaknesses and jealousies and insecurities, I sure don't know how to say "no," do I? This recurring problem of styaing faithful and devoted in a committed relationship has been my downfall in numerous relationships. I can try to justify my actions this time around by saying that Dre and I were never "married" or even "going together" or wearing each other's rings or whatever, but that would be a lie and it won't work. As I said, everyone in here knows my heart belongs to Dre, and the numerous letters I've written to him over the months, which I found out he had saved instead of thrown out, all say that he is the one I love. So how do I explain my actions to him? Claim that what he has been told and what he has seen with his own eyes is a lie and is not what it appears to be? Won't work, sorry. If it was only one person trying to drive the two of us apart for some reason, I might be able to argue that. BUt really, all he asked me to do, about 8 months ago or so, was not go slutting around and pick up some kind of sexually transmitted disease that I might pass along to him. That's what he asked of me. It was not unreasonable. And I couldn't even do that for him. My inability to say "no" to other people devastated my relationship with Sunny Side three years ago (even thought that was destined to be short-lived anyway, but that's beside the point), it hurt me with Midget two years ago, and it absolutely destroyed the best relationship I've ever been in with another guy, with David, about 10 years ago. When Dre brought up all these other individuals I had had sexual relations with these past few months and then mentioned how it didn't square with all the sweet, seemingly sincere love letters I had written to him during the same period of time, there was nothing I could do but sit on the floor of his cubicle and say nothing. No point in trying to lie my way out of this one. I tried that with Sunny Side the night he caught me cheating on him and it didn't work. It made matters worse. And Dre is not a fool, as I had tried to put one over on Sunny Side way back then, and all I did was hurt the one I claimed to love. I don't think Sunny Side really cared for me one way or the other back then either, but I found out the hard way that he did. He supposedly "forgave" me the next day, in his own way, but things were never as good between us after that until the day he left to go home. Now, with Dre, I realized what a special guy I really have this time. With everything he knows, he hasn't called it quits with me. I'm smart enough to realize, though, that I have a choice. I can say "to hell with him" and continue on with my ways, slutting around with anyone and everyone who wants to mess with me, and I lose HIM for good, or I get my act together and grow up and be the guy he expected me to be and I work to re-gain his trust by refusing all come-ons and propositions and I stay faithful to him. And, you know, THAT'S what I want, and that's what I've been doing since we had our talk, and that's what I intend to continue doing.