All Time Favorite Prison Movies

It seems fitting on the day after “The Oscars” to talk about movies. Last week, my husband and I watched an old favorite of ours on Netflix. It was “Escape from Alcatraz” with Clint Eastwood. This led to a discussion of our favorite prison movies. Now, if someone had asked me if I liked prison movies, I probably would have said something like…”Not particularly”. Imagine how surprised I was to realize that some of my favorite movies are prison based. I made a list. I’m willing to bet that some of these could be on your favorites too. You might even think of some that I missed.


So here goes- my favorite prison movies:

1. “The Shawshank Redemption” – this has got to be my all time favorite. It has a stellar acting team, a fantastic plot (innocent man found guilty), an unbelievable escape, characters you love to hate, a perfect get even moment, the good guys being evil and vice versa, and a suspenseful story twist you just aren’t expecting. It even has a happy ending. This is as close to perfection as storytelling gets.

2. “Cool Hand Luke”- this is a close tie with #3 for me. If you are in the younger generation and have never seen this movie, you are missing out. Paul Newman stars as an irrepressible young con driving the “man” crazy and becoming a legend to his fellow inmates. Most quotable line-“It seems that what we have here is a failure to communicate.” Newman was outstanding in this role.

3. “The Green Mile”- again, a stellar cast, unforgettable characters, good guys and bad guys on both sides of the bars and a story that leaves you breathless. I end up sobbing every time I watch it. This movie too is close to perfection.

4. “Brubaker”- Robert Redford stars in this seventies gem as a new warden of a very corrupt southern prison system. If I remember correctly, this movie was based on a true story. Best beginning ever, Brubaker enters his prison as an inmate to see first hand the mistreatment of prisoners. Then when a near riot ensues, an inmate is clamoring to see the warden and he identifies himself to both the jailors and the jailed. Great “Oh, s..t!” moment.

5. “Con Air” – this one has the best action scenes, a twisting, suspenseful plot and riveting evil people. This movie is one wild ride and hanging on for dear life applies to viewers as well as convicts. I find myself watching this one when I’m angry and want to see people “getting what’s coming to them”. It’s great therapy! I love the “never leave a man behind” theme.

6. “Escape from Alcatraz”- I think this pioneered the good guys/ bad guys being on both sides of the bars. Is it possible to hate anyone more than we hate the warden as he takes Doc’s painting privileges away? I don’t think so.

7. “The Longest Yard” – I like the Adam Sandler version of this best which is unusual for me. I tend to dislike remakes and I’m not a huge Sandler fan but the rest of the cast in his movie makes it. Standout prison types, a good funny man, and a resurrected Burt Reynolds make this a fun one.

8. “Papillon” – this is another old classic worth digging up and watching. Steve Mcqueen and Dustin Hoffman give amazing performances illustrating the downfall and breaking of the spirit of man. This, too, is based on truth and one man’s determination to be free no matter the cost.



We couldn’t decide if the next three movies are more war movies than prison movies but we thought they deserved a shout out; “The Dirty Dozen”, “The Great Escape” and “Bridge over the River Kwai”. We love all three.

So why do we love these movies? I think because we are reminded that people are people even when being treated as animals. And that no matter our circumstances we all still have that one great choice to make- who are we going to be? Also, we love to root for the underdog and we love it even more when he wins at the expense of “the man” whom we love to hate. Especially when that win involves someone who has refused to let his spirit be broken. That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?

A Serious Case of Life Envy

I’m a pretty content person most of the time. I have accepted the life lessons that have come my way and tried to make the most of them but every once in awhile I get a terrible case of “life envy”. I never know when it is going to rear up its ugly head and roar at me. It’s usually when I least expect it, of course. So I am always ill prepared when it does.


I had such an attack not too long ago when my husband decided it was time to visit a close childhood friend. We had not been to see them since they had started a new business and bought a farm. It was a beautiful sunny day, my “Les Miserables” CD had just come, I got to drive so Brent could sleep (which means I got to choose the music), and all seemed right in the world. It was a good trip.

It was great seeing them and all the changes they had been making in their lives. Their business had grown to the point that they could employ their now adult children. The old farm was fantastic! It had lots of big old barns and a big drafty farmhouse. We loved it!!

They were doing daycare for several sets of grandchildren just until some housing was finished. The house was chaotic, happy and loud. It was also very messy and cluttered. I won’t say the “h” word (hoarders) but we did have to turn sideways to walk through most of the rooms. The wife is into scrapbooking in a big way. She had thousands of dollars worth of scrapbooking stuff set up. It looked like a shop but we couldn’t actually get into the craft room.

As she and I toured the house, she complained unceasingly about watching the grandchildren, their parents in and out all the time, and pretty much everything else. I watched and listened while my heart was screaming………”you are so lucky, I haven’t seen or spoken to some of my children in years, I have grandchildren I’ll never see, I long for the noise and chaos you have to break up my quiet lonely days”. My mouth and face tried to be understanding because I really do know that these things felt like burdens to her but I removed myself as quickly as possible just in case my heart blurted out something hurtful.

They invited us to stay for a family dinner which was quite a gathering but that was more than I could do. The condition of the house, specifically the kitchen, was more than my husband could do. So we were off. He went to sleep almost immediately. It was then that I was hit with a bad case of “life envy”.

I began blubbering and whispered my complaints to God……..”Why? She doesn’t even appreciate any of it. I would take good care of my own house…..I’ve never owned a home, I would make it beautiful and keep it clean…..I would love having grandchildren everyday, we’d have so much fun, we’d do things together, I wouldn’t just plop them in front of a TV………oh, to have my children and their families just drop by and everyone make dinner together…what fun…..to have my husband working at home…..her life is what I wanted my life to be and she hates it.”

There’s the rub…I have come to realize that people having things I don’t have doesn’t bother me in the least. It never has. I have good friends that have a lot in the way of material comforts. I never think twice about it. It is the having and not appreciating that gets to me. I know that we all have our own lessons to learn. I know that God loves each of us enough to give us what we need to learn those lessons. I am very grateful for what I do have and rarely concern myself with what I don’t.

But as I said…every once in awhile…an attack of “life envy” hits and blindsides me because I’m not expecting it. I think it is part of the grieving process so I cry it out, do my complaining and ask for Heavenly Intervention to help me over the hump. And then I begin to list all the things I’m grateful for. I’ve yet to reach the end of that list. I don’t think I ever will. That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?

"Prisons of our own Design"

I just ran into someone I had not seen for about 10 years. She called me by name. I turned my head obviously confused. “You don’t recognize me, do you?” she remarked. Shaking my head slightly, I replied, “Help me out a little?” She told me her name and I began to piece the puzzle together. She had been a neighbor in the little trailer park I stayed in for a few months after my divorce.


She was drunk and threatening to shoot me the last time we spoke so I was surprised at her acting as if we were long lost BFF’s. I was also taken aback by her appearance. She had gained about a hundred pounds and was getting around in a motorized wheelchair. We spoke about her family. She told me that she now lives in an assisted living facility nearby.

As we chatted I thought back to when I knew her. She was in her early fifties then and had just gone through a hurtful divorce. She had moved in with her twenty- something daughter for awhile “just till she got back on her feet”. She had a 12 year old grandson and a 4 year old granddaughter. She was addicted to pain pills, cigarettes and TV. She rarely came out of her room or got out of bed.

Her daughter was in similar circumstances. I had befriended them in the only ways I knew how. I semi adopted the children including them in family activities. I took the women out to get their hair done. I gave them rides, took them shopping, cleaned and organized their house. I tried to make it a home for them with yard sale finds. I took them to church and hooked them up with the local food bank.

But I was still very naïve. I didn’t know then that some people live that way because they want to. She did not want to deal with her hurt or change her life or be anything that took an effort. She had crawled into a bottle of pills and had no desire to come out. She was relatively healthy, intelligent and attractive. She could have started her life over but she really didn’t want to.

We had a falling out over some imagined hurt and I moved my family across town. As we talked I realized some important things that had not occurred to me before. First, that could have been me! I hadn’t thought during the time about the fact that our stories were similar. The only difference being I refused to give up on life without a fight. And the fighting is what brought me safely through to the other side.

The second thing that struck me was that she had received exactly what she had wanted. She had become an invalid for real. Here she was in her early 60’s unable to take care of herself, living in her wheelchair and being looked after.

The third thing was obvious. She was still miserable! She didn’t like where she was. She didn’t like being poor. She didn’t like being lonely. She really didn’t like anything. She hadn’t changed a bit inside. There is a line from an old Eagles song that I think covers it well- “We are locked in prisons of our own design and never even know we have the key.”

There are so many of us that have locked ourselves in prisons of our own design. You may be in the prison of addiction or misery or fear or anger or resentment or hate or something only you know. But all these prisons have keys. And those keys are inside you.Now is a good time to search for them, don’t you think? Sometimes you are the only one who can unlock those doors.That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?

A Good Wife

A few weekends ago, close to bedtime, my 12 yr. old daughter was standing in the kitchen jabbering away about some kids at school and other things on her mind. I was cleaning the kitchen. I was also making dinner for my husband who would be getting home from work at 3 am. I have a small crockpot that I use to keep his food warm in.


She stopped talking for a few moments. She was watching me. She asked if that was Brent’s dinner. I replied that it was. Again, she paused for a moment. I could tell she was thinking hard about something. “You’re a good wife, Mom.” I thanked her and told her that I have always tried to be. She ran off to get ready for bed.

A few days later, my husband shared the following story with me- one of the young women at work was complaining about the woman her dad is married to. The dad works with Brent and is somewhat a friend. One of the things she complained about was that his wife refused to get a job and sat around doing nothing all day. My husband said with a grin that his wife stays home while he works. Her reply was, “Yeah but from everything I hear she’s a good wife. She takes good care of you.” He agreed and the conversation ended.

These two incidents have me thinking about what makes a “good” wife. The truth is that definition would change with each husband that you ask but a generic version might be “a woman who takes care of her husbands needs”.

Now, if you are man or if the woman libber in you is howling, let me share that this, isn’t that the quickie definition of marriage? Don’t we women also want a man who will fill our needs? My personal feeling is that we have lost sight of that simple concept. Relationships have changed focus from the filling of each other’s needs to the making sure “my” needs get filled. It doesn’t work quite the same way.

I am in a very traditional marriage. My husband works and I keep the home fire burning (literally). He works long hard inconsistent hours. He works, eats and sleeps and does some of the heavy stuff I can’t do. I keep the woodstove, the animals and my man fed. I clean the house, pay the bills, and do the laundry. I mow and water the yard, weed the flowerbeds and put out the trash.

I bake cookies, pies and cakes all year round. My husband LOVES his piece of pie or cake everyday. And since his time at home is so limited I try to make sure that when he is home it’s all about him. I have decided that no greater love hath a wife than that she will watch Chuck Norris movies with her beloved. I have learned to limit my honey do lists to one or two things on his one day off. And I let him choose when he will do them because he really likes to do his own list in his rare free time. He gets so much done when I leave him alone that I have learned to go with it.

In return, I have a happy husband who thanks God in our daily prayers for a peaceful, loving home. He brags to others about me. He loves being home when he can be and has no desire to be elsewhere. We are both learning to trust and be open with one another. That’s a long row to hoe due to past relationship damage but we are making progress.

And we are finally teaching our children that real love doesn’t have to be about conflict and anger. It is about small thoughtful things like leaving a hot dinner or a love note or a kiss hello or goodbye. It is about respect, trust and caring. It is about taking care of one another. There’s nothing wrong with that. That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?

Unfinished Business

Last summer I ran into my favorite antiques dealer at Wal-Mart. He told me about an estate sale he would be conducting during the upcoming weekend. The deceased woman had been into many crafts including quilting. He told me that there were at least 15 crates full of fabric remnants. He asked me to spread the word. I did but I also grabbed a quilting friend and went to the sale.


He was right. There was an incredible amount of fabric to browse through. There were also an incredible amount of women sorting through the fabric. The word had definitely got out. Some fabric was just the way she had brought it home, uncut and untouched. Some had been cut into strips or squares. Some had been cut, pieced and sewn together. There were a small number of finished quilt fronts just waiting for the backing to be attached.

There was also a large quantity of other craft materials. They too were in a variety of finished stages. Several women commented on the fact that they were buying this woman’s unfinished work to bring home to throw in the closet with their own unfinished projects. This brought an uneasy laugh from the crowd. We felt the truth of that statement.

The mood was somber as we respectfully rifled through her treasures. It was easy to see how important these things had been to her. It was also easy to see how very unimportant they were to her now. The words “unfinished business” kept popping into my head. The incomplete craft projects were a stark reminder that life is too short to do all that one would like to do. I was hoping that she hadn’t left other more important “unfinished business” behind.

I don’t think we waste much time in the hereafter mourning the projects we never completed. But we probably spend a considerable amount of time mourning the “unfinished business” of relationships gone bad, kind words left unsaid, generous deeds left undone, hurtful words that we never took back, hours of time wasted on anything but the people we love.

Jesus said, “Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon the earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal: But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal: For where your treasure is, there will be your heart also.”

Take some time during this week of love to check on your heart’s treasures. Are they safe? That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?

"Les Miz"

My regular readers may remember that I love Victor Hugo’s - “Les Miserables”. I have read it a number of times. It has been difficult over the years to find a completely unabridged, unadulterated version of the book which in the complete form has over 1400 pages. I read a complete version in high school and then again last year.


I am finding the same difficulty in other media. So far, I have seen a number of movies including the recent musical version. I have seen both the 10th and the 25th anniversary of the musical. And although I have loved them all, they have all been different! I ‘m thinking I’ll have to make a trip to New York’s Broadway or London’s West End to see a complete and unabridged version. I have ordered a CD featuring London’s original 1985 cast. Here’s hoping it is complete!

I have written before about the storyline and it’s relevance to us still today. People and their issues really haven’t changed much since the world began. The world around us may change but people and relationships pretty much stay the same. Since I know the story so well I was curious what it would mean to those who were seeing it for the first time.

I viewed the new movie with my 18 year old daughter. She cried through out the movie. She said she cried five times. But it was her response at the very end that struck me the most. She sighed, wiped at her eyes and whispered softly, “Wow, my life feels so small and insignificant.”

My 12 and 14 year old daughters saw the movie with their stepmom. They reported that they cried (especially Sarah, age 12) and were very moved. My 14 year olds favorite character was Marius’ friend “because he gave his life for something he believed in.”

My 12 year olds favorite characters were Fontine and Eponine “because they gave their lives for someone they loved.”

And ultimately that is exactly what the “Les Miserables” is all about. Love and all it’s consequences. Valjean’s love for a sister and her children caused him to steal bread. Javert’s love was of the steadfastness of the law. The bishop’s love was for God and his fellowman. Fontine’s love was for her daughter. The Thenardiers love was for money and possessions. Valjean’s compassionate love was for Fontine and then for Cosette. Marius’ love was for Cosette and his friends. Cosette loved Valjean and then Marius. Enjolras loved the common people and justice. Gavroche loved his life.

Love is and always will be the greatest force in the universe. It takes many strange turns at times but as my daughters realized it is at its most powerful when that love is for someone other than ourselves. “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” John 15:13 That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?

Missing the Winter Wonderland

Here’s a shout out to my family, friends and fans living on the East Coast. You all expecting another “storm of the century” and I’m a little bit jealous of you. Just a little bit, you understand, I’m not totally crazy.


I’ve been wondering this winter how I can get the winter blues so badly in an area that has 6 weeks of coldish weather and no snow. I spent the majority of my life (we are talking decades) in the state of Maine where winter starts in October and ends in May. I didn’t get winter blues until April. What’s the deal?

I think I know the answer. Actually, the answers since I have hit upon three reasons. The first is the no snow bit- snow is the beautiful gift God gives to the earth to cover her nakedness. Seeing the clean, diamond sparkle of a new snow is breathtaking. The naked, barren earth is depressing to see for weeks on end. It is ugly!

Secondly, yes, there are several days of cloudy skies expected around a storm but when the storm is over the sun comes out to shine on the sparkles and brag about the earth’s new accessory. There are days and days of incredible blue skies and sun that reflecting off all that whiteness can actually hurt your eyes. Here in our desert like part of eastern Oregon, we don’t get the snow or much of the rain but we do get the gray lifeless sky for weeks on end. It’s a lifeless sky reflecting on a lifeless earth.

And the third reason that my six weeks of winter here seem to last so much longer than months back home is the very fact that we don’t have any snowstorms. Winter time seems to pass so much quicker when you are in a type of survival mode. There is always plenty to do in between storms to get ready for the next one. The excited scurrying and bustling about as everyone prepares, the checking on older neighbors before and after a storm, even the digging out afterwards lends a sense of purpose to one’s days.

Here I play a waiting game. We wait and wait and wait for spring to come. We’ve made it through the holidays and January is one big dull gray month of nothingness. It’s not really long enough to take on a big project because in a few weeks it will be time to tend the flowerbeds.

And so this weekend during the “storm of the century” enjoy the excitement of hunkering in waiting for the power to go out. Enjoy the candles and board games and other things that only a storm can make you stop and do. It is God’s way of making us stop long enough to appreciate what is truly important in our lives. And remember that there is at least one displaced Mainer wishing she was there. That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?

Tacos for Dinner

It’s been a long hard day. My husband and I are at our local small grocery store looking for something to make for dinner. We are hungry, tired and grumpy. My husband wants us to get some stuff to make tacos. I agree and we search for the right things. Since I am always trying to save money, I am grabbing the cheaper generic type ingredients. This doesn’t satisfy my husband. He will only eat certain brands. That irritates the heck out of me. We are short and snappy with each other but we don’t want a fight and I give in.


But I am pissed and I let it show in my actions. I am mad all the way through the store. I am mad all the way through the checkout. I am mad all the way to the car. I am mad as we drive off. I am preparing to be mad all night but this is the only night of the week that he is home. I really don’t want to ruin it but really……he can be soooo stubborn sometimes!!!

At this, that little voice in my head says, “HE can be stubborn?? HE? What else does he ever ask for? What else does he ever spend money on? What are all the things you spend money on that he probably thinks are stupid but he NEVER says anything about? Let’s see….candles, makeup, nail polish….handbags, shoes, earrings….mmmmm, do I need to go on? Is spending a few cents more on the brands he likes really that big of a deal? No, I didn’t think so.”

By the time we arrive at the house I am no longer angry. Actually I am feeling about two inches tall and grateful for such a good man. I am happy to make him tacos just the way he loves them. He certainly deserves them. He truly does ask for so little and he does so much.

I feel sorry for men today. I’m sorry ladies, but we really do expect an awful lot from them. And we can be soooo critical about the things they do or don’t do. They offer to help with chores just to hear us complain about the way they did them. We leave the kids with them for an afternoon and complain about the house being a mess. We pout when they want to go off with the boys but expect no problem when we plan to go to a Pampered Chef party. We interfere when they discipline the children and then complain when they don’t. Anything sound familiar yet?

And we mustn’t forget our “mood swings”. Early in our marriage my husband asked me if something he did was irritating. My reply was inspired, “Hon, I’m a female. Any given day everything you do might annoy the heck out of me. The next day it won’t bother me at all. Don’t worry about it.”

I think my husband should earn medals for putting up with me. Special ingredients for his dinner seem a small price to pay. That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?

Talent Show Hell

Twenty years ago, the parenting advice of the day was giving positive feedback to your children. We were supposed to go to any length to encourage their attempts at anything! If they drew a picture, we were told not to ask what it was of but to tell them how unique and amazing it was even if we had no idea what we were looking at. We were told that any kind of criticism would damage our children’s psyche beyond repair. We were not to damage their creativity by any hint of realty.


I think I’ve found out what happened to those children when they grew up. They all tried out for TV singing competitions convinced that they were the world’s next best thing even if they couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket. Then they end up on Youtube videos of the worst auditions ever.

I watched a number of those videos this past weekend with my daughters. Several things jumped out at me- firstly, I was surprised at how genuinely shocked some of these contestants were to be told they were not singers and secondly, I kept thinking, “Isn’t there anyone in your life that cares enough about you to tell you- DON’T DO IT!”

And while I admit that I used to have a major problem with Simon Cowell’s bluntness, I know wonder how the man has kept from going “barking mad”. I realize that his rudeness is probably his way of trying to cut straight through the years of “isn’t that lovely, dear”. He has even taken on some parents by telling them that they are causing unhappiness by not being realistic with their loved ones.

Of course, you want to encourage your children’s dreams but steer them towards something possible. Support the things they are good at. Help them to find a realistic dream. Everyone is good at something.

One of my sons was a basketball addict. He loved, lived and breathed it while growing up. He was determined that he was going to be an NBA star. I never told him that he couldn’t be one. I emphasized the odds and encouraged him to focus on a back up plan just in case. I did this not because he wasn’t good but because he was a five foot three inch white boy from Maine. His chances were slim.

I also have changed my position on the judges laughing during a performance. Yes, it is rude and unprofessional but they are only human. Some of the situations they find themselves in are funnier than a sitcom. You couldn’t make it up. How do you NOT laugh at times? It doesn’t seem real.

Now I’m not talking about those with average pleasant voices who truly think that with a little help they could be the next best thing. That’s hopefulness. No, I am speaking of those poor people who truly seem to think they have it and what they do have is a “snowballs chance in hell”.

The bottom line is that these shows have been on TV long enough for everyone to have seen how good someone has to be to get to the end. How can some people be so delusional to think that could be them when their singing sounds like cats fighting? So here’s my advice- if you think you can sing good enough to be on TV, go find some strangers, preferably non-drinking ones, and sing for them. They cannot be friends or relatives and you must promise to listen to what they say. Here’s hoping that I don’t get to see you in next years bad audition cuts.That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?