As I crossed 6th Avenue at Houston the other day, I came across the most curious advertisement:

Coming Soon. Steve Returns. Spring 2005.

I was puzzled for a moment, assuming that Steve was a television character or a reality show contestant that I was unaware of. The small logo in the corner of the advertisement alerted me to the identity of this mysterious Steve. He was, of course, Steve Madden of trendy shoe fame. And from whence does he return you might ask? Prison. Also known affectionately as The Joint, The Bing or The Clink.

I have since seen other ads:

A new meaning for the word spring time. Steve returns. Spring 2005.

Or the one on the company’s website:

There’s one pair of shoes that’s been impossible to fill. Steve Returns. Spring 2005.

My first reaction was outrage. It sure would be nice, I thought, if all felons that served their time were greeted with such open arms. I can see it now, huge banners hanging from the doors of the local grocery store celebrating the return of Tito, a stock boy before he was sent upstate for the dime bag of marijuana he had in his glove box. The sign proclaiming:

Now back in stock. Tito Returns. Spring 2005.

But there are no such open arms reaching out to welcome most convicted felons; no support networks to aid them in their attempts to integrate back into society. In fact, it seems that we make it as difficult as possible. Convicted felons are routinely denied job opportunities that they are qualifed to perform and desperately need to create a strong foothold in the world outside of prison. Even if we throw the notion that prison can rehabilitate to the wind, employers fail to base their decisions on some objective criteria that evaluates the crime in relation to the duties of the job. We just don’t like criminals.

Many states go further and actively deny the franchise to felons - a signal that the state believes that, no matter whether prison is justified on a punishment theory or a rehabilitative one, that prison is insufficient. If prison is punishment, we have not punished you enough. If prison is rehabilitative, we don’t think it worked.

But perhaps my outrage wasn’t the appropriate response. Viewed a different way, this is an opportunity of unprecedented proportions. For the first time, companies are celebrating the return of their convicted, sentenced, imprisoned and freed employees. I hope that you, Mr. Madden, and you too Ms. Stewart, realize that your warm welcomes could have been anything but. And I hope that you understand that most similarly situated folks don’t have such an easy landing.

I’d like to ask you both to consider this as you return to your jobs and your old lives. Each of you should do whatever is in your power to focus your organizations on providing opportunities to ex-felons. More importantly, you should put your names and your sizable resources to immediate work in advocating for the rights, interests and needs of your newly unincarcerated brotheren and sisteren.

If you both do that, I will certainly celebrate your homecomings.

First I just want to thank God for giving me the skills to finish my first ever Thursday crossword. With out his grace none of this would be possible. I want to give an in come in to my grandma Nani. I’ma hold the flame. I also want to give a smoove shout out to all my immortal crossword thugs:

jLou

logoP

And…

The Nefarious tBone.

Thanks for bringing me on and giving me a chance to do my thing. Let’s make this paper.

I just came across, what I believe to be, my favorite Mitch Hedberg joke of all time:

An escalator can never break. It can only become stairs. You would never see an escalator “Temporarily Out of Order” sign, just “Escalator Temporarily Stairs… Sorry for the Convenience … We apologize for the fact that you can still get up there.”

I just realized that my favorite comic died last week.

Mitch Hedberg was the last comic to make me cry with laughter. Somehow I never grew tired of his simple insights and stoner delivery. A few of his gems follow:

On Pringles

I think Pringles’ initial intention was to make tennis balls. But on the day that the rubber was supposed to show up, a big truckload of potatoes arrived. But Pringles was a laid-back company. They said “Fuck it. Cut ‘em up.”

On Yoplait

I opened up a container of yogurt, and under the lid it said “Please Try Again” because they were having a contest I was unaware of. But I thought I might have opened the yogurt wrong, or maybe Yoplait was trying to inspire me. “C’mon, Mitchell, don’t give up. Please try again. A message of inspiration from your friends at Yoplait. Fruit on the bottom, hope on top.”