Monday, March 30, 2020


On July 5th, 2018, I was arrested by the State of New York and charged with promotion of prostitution. With my federal sentencing for tax fraud pending, this was of course, bad news. 

I had a federal status hearing scheduled for just a few weeks later and no doubt, the State would let the Fed know they'd arrested me - and for what reason. In theory, the State was working independently of the Fed. But you'd have a hard time convincing me that was really the case. 


By his own admission, my last celly at MCC was a stalker. According to him, he was beefing back and forth on either email or texting with a girl, and at one point threatened "I don't care if you call the police. I'm going to come over there and stick a gun up your ass." I didn't see him as the kind of person who would actually make good on that threat. But a female judge who had herself been stalked, saw it differently - to the tune of a 37 month sentence. Charley (not his real name) was upfront about his charge. He was man enough to divulge at least some of the truths behind his incarceration. 

Monday, March 2, 2020


While not the calendar's first day of Spring, yesterday was mine. So I swung by the Meatloaf Kitchen to make sure I'm still banned (no volunteers over the age of 50), and demanded some bread before leaving. Perfect strategy. I got to say hey to my friends and avoid going to the supermarket. They don't want free labor? Not my problem.

Sunday, March 1, 2020


My very first night on suicide watch at MCC federal prison in downtown New York. If you didn't want to kill yourself before you entered the BOP's most in-the-news prison, you just might after a month or two. I was the watcher - not the observed.

As an "inmate companion," it was my job to monitor a prisoner about whom I knew nothing - except his reg number and his name: Bahnasawy. He was young with curly hair and a beard. Nothing about him seemed amiss. I started the conversation. "You ok?" He nodded his head.