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My gig at the Rutland jail

I take not a thing for granted when and if someone chooses to attend one of my comedy shows. If they've spent valuable time viewing my product, I'm happy as a starving bat hanging in a dark room full of obese mosquitoes.

Counting both inmates and guards I'm guessing there were close to 100 souls in the Rutland Correctional Center's gym/theater watching my show, and I was hoping they understood I was performing in deference to them, sincerely grateful they had signed up to come watch me spout jokes and play guitar.

At middle age we are quite possibly at the peak of our earning and creative powers, so every chance I get to perform is a chance I feel to realize how blessed I've been, not only with my career, but with family, health, friends, environment - just about everything one could think of.

I wonder if the inmates at the Rutland jail would profess similar gratitude related to the lives they've lived; lives that have led them to the big house.

Put a gun to my head and I'd have to say many of them would say they've lived blessed lives. I'd rather believe that instead of blurting that old tired line "Oh, there but for the grace of God go I, we're all just a hair from crossing the line and screwing up badly too," because you and I don't really think we've been very close to crossing the line, do we? I know I haven't. So phooey. Let's not look like idiots by faux empathizing with the plight of crooks and criminals, they're much too smart to believe us.

Dudes and dudettes who're in jail decided on their own to purchase their tickets in; that's a fact. But it doesn't mean that they aren't in many ways able to feel blessed and hopeful about the life that lies ahead. Criminals are just like us. Except they're not.

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