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I am a law-abiding citizen. I have never committed a crime or, except for a non-functioning headlight, had a single encounter with the law.
Nonetheless, I’ve been giving prison some serious thought lately.
I really need to get away from guns, and prison might be the place to do it.
When you look at it closely, although American prisons clearly house the greatest concentration of dangerous gun-toters, they may — ironically — be America’s most gun-safe environment (true, the guards are armed, but they are well-trained and under strict control).
Prison could offer many advantages:
— I could sleep through the night without fear that a cellmate, or someone breaking in, would shoot me.
— I could eat my meals confident that, no matter how bad the food is, no one would shoot it (the food, that is), or the chef, or, if I had a job in the mess-hall, me.
— I could exercise outdoors, in the yard, with virtually no chance that someone in a stolen car, with a tommy-gun, might whiz by and do a Mafia number on me.
— I could read in the prison library with reasonable certainty that no one would react to a fine for an overdue book by spraying the staff with bullets.
— I could talk directly with my family and friends, confident that, although they might be angry at my abandoning them, any guns they might be carrying will have been confiscated.
— I could engage my fellow-prisoners in heated discussions (the Yankees vs. the Dodgers; the North vs. the South; tacos vs. blintzes) without fear that differences of opinion would escalate to gunfire.
— I could take part in intramural sports like basketball or baseball without concern that my egregious foul or brush-back pitch might prompt lethal retaliation.
It’s a clever, if unusual, plan, though one might already see in it a significant obstacle: a prison is not a hotel and, understandably, admission requires the perpetration of an incarceration-worthy crime. Mere misdemeanors do not qualify.
So, what crime should I choose?
To be consistent with my principles, I obviously cannot rob a bank or carry out a hold-up in a dark alley, both of which absolutely require a gun.
I will also need to consider how long I would be incarcerated. Since I am old, ten or more years behind bars could very well be fatal. Although resolution of America’s gun crisis within five years seems unreachable, a prison term of that length might allow for some positive change and give me a chance to return to what passes for normal society for a few more years, and perhaps even die of natural causes.
With these factors in mind, I figure that committing a relatively minor, strictly non-violent, crime — fraud, for example —might be the best choice.
To avoid the likelihood that a competent lawyer might make a persuasive case to get me off the hook, I would insist on handling my own defense, would acknowledge my wrong-doing, and accept the verdict.
If, hopefully, I should attain my goal of a five-year term, I would be an average prisoner, careful not to cause trouble, but also especially cautious not to become such a model of rectitude that my term is shortened.
I have no illusions that, on my return to civilian life, gun violence will be gone. If it has at least diminished, well and good. If it hasn’t, at least I will have earned myself five years of life without cowering before suspicious-looking strangers or hiding in the closet when a car backfires or, worst of all, giving in and buying a gun to protect myself.