Starting off a new year requires me to be a little more inventive than usual. Over the holidays I acquired a few books loaded with odd and sometimes disturbing facts. It tickles my fancy to go to the morbid side of things every once in a while. Let me proceed to these three examples of last meal requests from soon-to-be executed murderers. It’s morbid but still interesting. Here we go . . .
Let’s start off with the big kahuna of serial killers, TED BUNDY.
This execution was scheduled for January 24, 1989, at the Florida State penitentiary. Bundy being the arrogant and hard to get along with individual refused to order a last meal. The prison brought him the standard meal of steak and eggs. He refused to eat them so they sent him to the electric chair on an empty stomach. Seems highly appropriate to me.
Next on the list is MARGIE VELMA BARFIELD.
This execution was dated November 2, 1984, at the central prison in Raleigh, North Carolina. As a last meal Barfield chose a “last snack “over a “last meal,” Selecting junk food as the last thing she would ever eat in this life. She enjoyed a last repast of Cheez Doodles and Coca-Cola and then marched off for her lethal injection. There’s no accounting for bad taste.
This final entry belongs to two friends who were also known as the “In Cold Blood” killers, EUGENE HICKOCK and PERRY SMITH.
This execution was scheduled for April 14, 1965, at the Kansas State penitentiary. The killer’s eyes were apparently bigger than their stomachs. As their last meal they ordered shrimp, French fries, garlic bread, and for dessert, ice cream and strawberries with cream. They didn’t touch a bite of it. They both went to the gallows on an empty stomach. Goodbye and good riddance.
Well, there you have it. These were just the first three of fifteen executions I have notes on, and I’ll post the rest periodically.
WHAT MEAL WOULD YOU REQUEST ?
(I think I’d request a plate of Spam fried rice and a jigger of Jack Daniels.)
Thinking outside the box is a rarity these days. Some people do it automatically in everything they do and are called, weird, odd, strange and a host of other not so nice descriptions. Unfortunately the great majority of people that are truly out-there are artists and creative types. In order to create something that people will pay attention to you must be out-there. I’ve been lucky enough to be labeled out-there since I was seven or eight years old by my parents and friends alike. That to me has always been a badge of honor and always will be.
People continuously use the word weird for those of us who are strange, little off center, or just plain different in our way of thinking. I’ve been called much worse by many people over the years due to my unusual approach to the art I create. I understand that some people are offended by that description but I never was. I’m a firm believer that if you walk by any of my projects and didn’t stop for a second look, I wasn’t getting the job done.
Many years ago I created a piece called “Death Penalty”, and it was displayed in a museum art show. To my great surprise it actually won an Honorable Mention award from the judges. I created a miniature electric chair with all the bells and whistles of a real one. It sat upon a base covered in a collage of death penalty photos and newspaper articles which made quite the graphic statement about the death penalty, both pro and con.
I stood on a raised stage nearby drinking coffee and watching the main floor of the exhibit. People were milling around but I was more interested in those looking at my piece. It drew quite a crowd and a lot of discussions were occurring. I mingled among the crowd anonymously listening to comments and the numerous and varied conversations. The consensus of opinion was that the artist was a little weird and totally off-the-wall. I was absolutely thrilled. That meant even more to me than the Honorable Mention award. I was later approached by the father of a young Goth girl who attempted to buy the chair for her Christmas present. I didn’t have the heart to sell it and I kept that chair for many years before it eventually fell apart during one of my many moves. I’ve always had a hard time selling my art after putting so much effort into producing it. It’s like losing a child.
Now let’s drop back few decades to my days in college. I was inspired by a fellow student after being requested to do some sort of display that would sell a fictional product. This was a commercial art class and a required subject which I truly detested. I thought it was too blatantly commercial and I complained to everyone. A fellow student on the day of the final review took me aside and said “your taking this stuff way too seriously”. He took me into another room and under a sheet on the table showed me his final project. He’d set up a place-setting with a knife, fork, spoon, lacy napkins, and a half filled bottle of Coke. Directly behind the place-setting was a a faux campfire. Over this fire he’d placed a headless baby doll on a spit. He spray painted the doll with a reddish paint to make it look roasted. I was a little shocked at first until he uncovered the last part of his project. He pulled the the sheet away to show me a large, round, red, Coca-Cola sign. It simply stated “Things Go Better With Coke”. I was blown away and thrilled to have met someone who was truly out-there. All these years later I still remember him, the piece, and the attitude it took to make it. I also remember that he got an “A” on the project and I didn’t. I’m carrying on his philosophy as best I can to this day.
If you’re a creative type and I hope you are, don’t let people put you in a box. It’s been my experience that the further out-of-the-box you can take yourself the better your work will be. There are way too many people spending way too much time being critical of virtually everything. To be an artist, poet, or writer is to put your creations “out there” for public viewing. It’s the most rewarding risk you can take.
I think it’s time for a serious rant about this wonderful but addictive society we’re all members of. For years we’ve been slowly retrained to believe that every bad thing we do isn’t our fault. It’s the fault of our parents, our teachers, our bad friends, and last but not least, because of our genetic predisposition for addiction. What it’s finally come down to in this country is the fact that we are not permitted to like anything too much.
When I was growing up we had addictions but in my opinion they were the real deal, drugs and alcohol. It wasn’t until the liberals and courts opened Pandora’s Box and decided that those addictions were really just serious medical conditions. That’s when our real problems began. Those terrible addictions were first declared a sickness, then an excuse for a disability check, and now it’s become the rationale for every bit of bad behavior you can think of. If you like candy too much, you’re addicted to candy. If you like scratching your ass, you’re labeled an addictive ass scratcher. It’s the current trend to label any activity someone likes a little too much as an addiction.
It’s not our fault that we drink too much, take illicit drugs, steal, murder, rape, and assault our children. We can’t help it, it’s a medical issue. We should never be prosecuted or jailed for our bad behavior, just cut us a government disability check because we’re addicted. We’ve become a society that just can’t or won’t deal with personal responsibility.
Government and courts are as responsible as anyone for this. You can commit heinous crimes against society but before you can be convicted you’re required to meet with lawyers, therapists, counselors, priests, nuns, and every once in a while an actual member of law enforcement. You can meet with law enforcement but the Miranda ruling forbids you from talking to them without an attorney present.
The nanny state has made it impossible to deter crime by consistently attempting to remove all of the tools available to law enforcement. If the liberals have their way they would abolish the death penalty and take away all rights from the citizenry to own and carry weapons for their own protection. That will put us all at the mercy of the criminal element who will be armed and dangerous and preying on us at will.
I could easily list three hundred addictions currently available for people to help them escape responsibility. I won’t list them all because most right-thinking people already know how big the list is and what’s on it.
I’ve had my own set of terribly dangerous addictions that I’m forced to deal with everyday. I love eating good food, drinking good wine, watching beautiful women, playing video games, and many others. I’m sure it won’t be long before I’ll also be able to collect a big fat disability check for these terrible addictions.
Maybe under the Biden Administration I can find the help that I obviously need. Maybe I should just turn myself in to the authorities before I’m forced by my medical conditions to commit a crime of some sort. Then I’ll be eligible for free therapy sessions (court-mandated) that will cost the taxpayers thousands of dollars. I’ll get a free court appointed attorney who’ll take me by the hand and lead me to the promised land of free money, free food, and freedom from prosecution due to my medical difficulties. Isn’t America wonderful? Land of the free, not hardly, and home of the brave, not hardly. The only bravery I see these days is from those citizens who’ve volunteered to serve their country by wearing the uniform of our military.
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