Randy Lilleston

I have always been fascinated about the satisfaction Americans seem to get from throwing people in prison. Here in the alleged beacon of democracy and freedom, more than 2 million people are imprisoned at any given time. That makes us No. 1 in imprisoning our people — even China, with four times the population, doesn’t put as many folks behind bars as we do.

Yet within three years, according to the Commission on Safety and Abuse in American Prisons, 67 percent of former prisoners will be rearrested and 52 percent will be re-incarcerated…meaning we’ve got a whole class of professional prisoners. And that class affects culture — if you’ve ever been inside a jail or prison, you immediately recognize the parallel between prison jumpsuits and the baggy clothes that have been part of youth culture for a while now.

Eventually, someone may realize that we’ve reached the point of diminishing returns here. I don’t think that we’re there yet, though…it’s just so lusciously easy for politicians to demagogue this issue that it’s going to be up to the public to ask questions before things will change. But the bottom line is this: It’s hard to argue that you’re the beacon of freedom when you’re willing to take it away from so many people.

Feb. 17 marked the 18th anniversary of my mom’s death. She was a loud, religious, funny, loving, prideful woman with a two-packs-of-smokes voice and one of the great husky laughs I have ever heard. She died in a pretty horrible way, really — she contracted Hepatitis C (probably from a blood transfusion) and it cooked inside of her for a couple of decades before it took out her liver, bit by excruciating bit.

She was 59 and the last few years of her life, which were filled with pain and some really scary medical procedures, still make me cringe. I was 29 when she died and was inconsolable. My family walked around for weeks like war victims in a bombed-out city. I emerged from the whole process knowing what it really meant to be an adult.

I still have a great videotape of a surprise anniversary party we threw the previous summer for her and my dad. Her brothers came down from Minnesota, we all had a good time, but we all knew why we were having this party — mom’s health could turn at any time and we wanted everyone to see her again while she still was healthy. It was a great party and thinking about it  makes me smile to this day. But I still miss her all of the time.

Every once in a while, I’ll start listening to a group that is too hip for a middle-aged middle-class guy like me, and it always makes me feel a little self-conscious. I went through this with Outkast a little while back — and good Lord, even with Kanye West — and now I’m enjoying Gnarls Barkley more and more.

To all of the aforementioned groups and artists: I hereby apologize. I am definitely a big ol’ boat anchor on your Hipness Factor.

Of course, some of this is because these acts sprinkle some old-school sounds and beats in the background. Hey, Outkast, I recognize that 1980s-era low-end Casiotone keyboard doing that little run behind “Hey, Ya” (I once owned that very keyboard)…Kanye, I know it’s Jamie Foxx singing in the background on “Gold Digger” but he’s singing a line from Ray Charles’ “I Got a Woman”…and Gnarls…well, I have a soft spot for the Violent Femmes, who you’re covering, and now you’re doing videos that channel all sorts of moments from popular music in the last 60 or so years.

So maybe I don’t need to apologize so much after all.