But the truth is that I’ve just returned from spending the last week in Groton, Connecticut at the Naval Submarine Base New London where I had to testify at a military court martial hearing. And, I’m not ashamed to say, it took everything I had to not yell out the Jack Nicholson phrase above when I was on the stand.
Every. Thing. I. Had.
Now, you’d think being away from the responsibilities of home and work for five days would give me the time to WRITE! WRITE! WRITE! But, sadly, no. Because in spite of my testimony taking a grand total of 20 minutes over those 5 days, the rest of the time – from eight until five, I was sequestered in a waiting room. I was denied what should be a constitutional right to have my phone, with the 15 year olds the US Navy now apparently enlists into the service, taking everything away from me the moment I entered the floor where all of their law and order resides.
There was a metal detector I had to pass through. A wand was then ghosted over my bare arms, perhaps looking for the Terminator type technology I could have been hiding under my skin, before passing over the rest of me.
But worst of all? The waiting room held nothing more than a few outdated National Geographic magazines and a 19 inch analog TV, with a built-in VCR.
It wasn’t even hooked up to any kind of cable service. There was a DVD player hooked up to it, but the only DVD’s available were Transformers, some horribly artsy movie named Being Flynn, and an even more horrible Adam Sandler movie called The Cobbler.
I would’ve called ACLU and thrown down the bullshit flag, claiming cruel and unusual punishment of Guantanamo Bay proportions.
IF I HAD A PHONE.
Needless to say I was mentally exhausted every night after spending all day doing nothing. Ironic, but true.
But I’m back now. So here you go. 🙂