Locked Up
Mike recounts his recent 2-month incarceration at an Ohio correctional facility following a period of absentia, reflecting on the psychological toll of jail. He describes the necessity of surrendering to one’s circumstances and the lingering guilt of failing to intervene during acts of violence.
Hello, this is Mike George coming at you on this beautiful, sweltering Tuesday afternoon, 30 June 2026. I think this thing is working; if not, I’m sure the comment section will let me know in lieu of having a real production assistant. I’m currently talking into this big black mic — seriously, look at the size of this thing compared to my face — and I’m just hoping I stay in Wi-Fi range long enough to say my piece.
So, where in the world have I been for the last 2 months?! Well, I’ve had the lovely occasion of staying at the Jackson Pike Correctional Facility in Columbus. Let me tell you, the plumbing still works for now, even if the paint is about a year away from completely chipping off the walls. I’d actually wanted to do a reflective piece about jail, and lo and behold, the Lord provided—be careful what you wish for, because He gave me a 2-month rehab.
There is something to be said about being locked away with nothing but your innermost thoughts, your demons, and some pretty scary inmates to keep you company. I’ve stayed in jails before—some of the veterans might remember my week at the Adams County Sheriff’s Office in Mississippi — but this was different. They finally released me today, on what feels like the hottest day of the year, but I can’t complain too much; I’ve still got some commissary food left to eat, so life isn’t all bad.
I’ll be honest with you guys: I was scared in jail. I saw people get their asses kicked right in front of me while I was trying to sleep. You wouldn't believe the "real estate value" of a bunk bed until you see someone threatened over it. I managed to escape any "doghouse madness" myself, but looking back, I’m actually a bit ashamed. I wanted to step up and help people I saw getting beaten, but I didn't because I was too scared.
It forced me to pick my battles and taught me a lot about surrendering. I went to a church service in jail, and the whole topic was about surrendering—and man, I couldn't think of a more timely lesson than surrendering to the Franklin County Sheriff’s Department. It’s been a humbling experience, especially as I’m turning 40 and realizing how many years have gone by where I wasn't scared when I probably should have been.
As for the future, this might be the finale of Open Mike Live. I’ve put a lot of effort into the production and marketing of this stream just to hear crickets, so I need to refocus my efforts on my job search and getting back to a day job. My website is currently down because I need money to get it back up, so if you want to see the rest of the collection, hit me up on Cash App.
I’m reporting live from the back of the library at the Topiary Gardens. If any of you are nearby, come say hello to a "hardened crook"— don't be scared. But seriously, don't go to jail, stay away from us criminals, and drink plenty of water. Be humble, and sometimes, just surrender yourself to sanity.
