Tim blames the guards.
Tim was tall, thin and perpetually scruffy. Some people nicknamed him Clampet, after the character Jed Clampet from the Beverley Hillbillies.
I used to drive Tim to the local Native Reserve to pick up cheap cigarettes every couple months. We had lots of great discussions about everything from our lives, politics and life in prison. When he was younger Tim had seen a lot of the world and frequently vacationed in Jamaica – he had a great system for doing it very economically. He would get a cheap flight there and then just wonder from resort to resort mooching whatever free stuff he could get. He was very good at making excuses when confronted, “I’ll go get my wrist band from my room and be right back!” he would tell them. Eventually they would catch on and he would move on to the next all-inclusive resort.
Tim had been a long haul trucker most of his life and he had lots of great stories about his adventures while driving around most of North America. He certainly got around and in some ways his life really was a great adventure.
My favorite Tim story happened when he was staying at “The Farm” a minimum security prison in Brandford. Ontario. Tim had been working in the field all day and was getting tired so he snuck up on the roof of one of the buildings to have a cigarette. It was a common place where inmates would sneak off for a little privacy. After his cigarette Tim was relaxing and drifted off into a nap. A while later he was rudely interrupted by the prison alarm bells going off. Tim climbed down and complained to one of the guards about the racket and they told him to get to his cell because the prison was on emergency lock-down after someone had escaped. Turns out Tim had missed roll call and they thought he had escaped.
To this day Tim says it was the guards fault for doing such a crappy job of keeping track of the prisoners.
