--- MAKING LEMONADE ---
2nd April 2015

It takes a special kind of douche bag to be given all of the breaks that I have, yet still find a way to screw things up. This isn't a statement of self-pity as much as it is a statement of fact. I was thinking about this today as I sat in the cool Tan, plastic lawn chair that I have against the back wall of my cold cell. I had just gotten out of the shower and I was sitting there in a pair of White boxers with my bare feet resting on an Olive Green towel that I'd laid out on the floor. My hair was wet, and I'd let my Lime Green tree frog Shorty Morgan out of his house for some fresh air. He was stuck on the tall cactus of a postcard from Arizona that I received from one of my readers and that I'd posted on Faceblock. He was giving me The Big Eye.

I looked around my sterile gray cell, and looked at the ugly steel bunk beds that are also painted gray and have thin, blue, plastic mattresses on top of them. Then I looked at the nasty, water-stained toilet that has no seat and the square piece of stainless steel that has been bolted above the sink to serve as a mirror. Finally, I looked at the raggedy Gray steel locker attached to the wall across from my bunk that contains all of the worldly possessions that I've managed to accumulate up to this point in my life. After assessing my 71 sq foot criminal mancave, I shook my head and looked at Shorty Morgan, and said, "How'd it all come to this?" As if on cue, he peed down the wall.

Throughout my life, I have shown the unique ability of being able to snatch defeat right out of the jaws of victory. Fate dealt me an above-average hand. I was raised in an affluent two-parent household that offered plenty of love and no abuse. I was born a white male with reasonable intelligence in the richest country in the world, and in one that rewards white males with reasonable intelligence. But in spite of fate having given me all of these breaks, I still managed to find a way to parlay them into an 8x12 prison cell that has a toilet with no seat and a frog that pisses down the wall.

After years of self-analysis, therapy, and after several federal indictments, I long ago came to the informed conclusion that I am screwed. The world is not my oyster; I'm not going to be President some day; and contrary to what my mom told me, I can not do anything or be anything that I want to be when I grow up. Because I'm all grown, and I grew up to be a Bank Robber. A Bank Robber who forgot to wear a mask. I grew up to be a douche bag.

The first part to overcoming any problem is first recognizing that a problem exists. Or as the 1st Step in Bank Robber's Anonymous (BA) says, "We admitted we were powerless over federally-insured money and that our lives had become unmanageable." Okay, I got that memo. I am aware that I have more issues than National Geographic. But just because I'm screwed does not mean that I accept this and am okay with this. Because I am most certainly NOT okay with this. At this point in my life it would be real easy for me to surrender to my pathos and happily swim around my genetic cesspool. But I refuse to do this because I feel that it's my job not to throw in the towel and happily live in my lust(s). I believe that it's my job to try and become a better man. A better human being. No matter that I'm doing 20 years in the can.

My life has certainly had some extreme highs and lows, but at the end of the day, I'm not so different from you. All of our lives are about taking the lemons that life throws us, and doing our best to turn them into lemonade. Addiction(s), death of people we love, loneliness, financial hardship, infidelity, physical and mental illnesses, bank robbery, and Obamacare. All of these are legitimate lemons that we experience throughout our lives. The way that we deal with them determines the level of happiness and joy we have in life, and what type of people we ultimately end up becoming.

I did a satirical blog a while back that's available for a dollar on the Free Frye Fund. It's called MY CRIMINAL FOOTPRINT and it traces the negative karmic consequences and chain of events that came about from getting caught at the age of six for stealing gum from Soukops Hardware Store. (I actually started stealing gum from there when I was four, but my luck was better back in those days and I didn't get pinched until I was six.) I had fun doing this blog and it actually took me two days to figure out how to write it and connect all of the historical dots.

I mention this blog because I'm trying to live my life these days in a way that sets about a similar karmic response, except in a positive way. I'm not trying to change the past because that's a waste of time and energy.

You can't unrob seven banks.

What I'm doing is trying to use a positive affect to ultimately effect the people in what I refer to as my "circle of influence." We all have a circle of influence. It may be your family, your coworkers, or a Facebook friend that you talk to but will never meet in person. It may be a pen pal. Words and actions influence others, and you have the power to influence the people in your circle in either a positive or a negative way. I'm no karmaologist, but I do know that like brings like, and what you put out is what you'll eventually get back.

I'll be the first to admit that my immediate circle of influence back here includes some world class knuckleheads. People like This Fucking Guy, Don Corleone, and my crack-dealing neighbor Slab. But a while back I decided to enhance my circle of influence and include other knuckleheads all over the world. Like you people reading this blog.

You would think that as a guy whose doing 20 years in the can and who has a tree frog that pisses on his wall, that I wouldn't have any influence, or even a responsibility to influence others. But that's not true. Entertaining people all over the world is an awesome responsibility and making people laugh and feel good is a completely worthy use of my time. Even when I'm using my personal lemons to make lemonade for you that I will never get to taste myself. Using the bad parts of me to create something good for you is the ultimate recycling.

Yes, I'm probably still screwed. And I'm still a douche bag who's never going to be President...but that's okay. I prefer to think that I'm a "recovering" douche bag, and since it's my story, I get to tell it however I want to. I have no qualms about showing you guys my lemons as I continue to try and make lemonade. Strangely enough, it's a lot of fun.

Jeffrey P. Frye
murderslim.com
Bank Robber's Blog
bankblogger.weebly.com
@bankblogger2