Why Tom Hanks movies and Crystal Meth don't mix‏

By Josh Baskin -President of the One Hanks Commission for a Brighter Tomorow (prisoner # ACI441-220R)

If you ask me why I started smoking Crystal Meth, I'd tell you because it lasts longer than Crack. If you ask me why I started smoking Crack, I'd tell you because it was more intense than Coke. If you ask me why I forced Craig Hanks to change his name to Craig Jones at gunpoint, i'd tell you because Tom Hanks is the fucking MAN!!

You see, I am currently incarcerated, which, not to sound cliche, makes you really think about the things you've done with your life. The good, the bad, the ugly, and in some case's, if you've been convicted of the right crime, the righteous.

Now if I were to tell you that maybe there was a bright side to all that Meth I was doing,you'd think I was crazy. And if I were to be so blunt as to say that perhaps all addiction has it's place in this world, despite the damage it does to a mans soul, his family, and his society,...well, you'd probably just call that a bunch of bullshit. But the way I see it, theres a lot to be said about the moment a man finally has his moment of clarity. And for me, that moment of clarity came both 3 days deep into an ice binge and 25 minutes into "The Man With One Red Shoe".

There I was in my basement apartment, pipe in hand, pile of ice like a fuckin' glacier on the t.v tray, and Tom Hanks on the tube. "FUCKIN' BRILLIANT" I exclaimed through an exhale."HANDS DOWN!!THIS MOVIE IS FUCKIN INTENSE!!!" I must have exclaimed it too loud though, because my neighbor, Mrs. Fabien, gave the floor a whack and told me to keep it down, calling me a goddamn cracksmoker. (cracksmoker-pssshh)

But I would not keep it down.No way. Not this time.

"WHY DON'T YOU WAKE UP MRS FABIEN!! WHY DON'T YOU OPEN YOUR FUCKIN' EYES AND WAKE UP.TOM HANKS IS A NATIONAL TREASURE!! THIS RED SHOE SHOULD BE IN THE FUCKIN' SMITHSONIAN!!!AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING ABOUT IT? HUH? WHATS ARE ANY OF US DOING ABOUT IT!?!? HUH!?!?"

She slammed the floor again and told me to shut the fuck up or she'd call the cops, but I was on to something, and DAMNIT, I was gonna convince Mrs. Fabien that I was right....

"ARE YOU FUCKIN' SERIOUS LADY?!?! CALL THE COPS?!?! FOR WHAT?!?! HONORING A NATIONAL TREASURE?!?! I MEAN COME ON. WHO ELSE BUT TOM HANKS COULD TEACH SALLY FIELDS TO BE A STAND UP COMEDIAN? NOT YOU!! THAT'S FOR FUCKIN' SURE!!!"


Within minutes there was a pounding at the door from the Police demanding I open up.

And there I was...centered in my moment of clarity.

I had been watching Tom Hanks movies for 88 straight hours now since I scored my last quarter pound of Crank, and after arguing with several of my regular customers, Mrs. Fabien,Mr. Fabien, Mrs. Fabiens son Doug, and even after enduring a phsical altercation with Beatrice (my mail-lady) I realized, people don't give Tom Hanks the respect that he deserves. WELL THAT WAS ABOUT TO CHANGE...

I quickly pushed my entertainment center and Marshall half stack in front of the door, rounded up all my crank, and after smashing the window of my basement apartment and climbing out, I decided then and there that I would be the founder of the One Hanks Commission for a Brighter Tommorow.

I got on the phone with my lawyer. I knew it was late but DAMNIT this was important!!

"Jesus Christ Marc, it's 4:30 in the morning. This better be good" My attorney stated as he answered the phone. I really had no time to explain the details. I was busy running from the cops and I needed a hit, so I cut to the chase.

"Meet me behind the dumpster at the KFC on Garfield Ave....Oh and bring a notary of the public....9AM SHARP"

CLICK

I made a clean getaway and made it to the dumpster. I knew time was tight and I had better get my plan ready.Luckily sleep was out of the question anyways.

I leaned against the dumpster and drew out my plan using a packet of Ranch dressing on a piece of cardboard. I pondered signing it in blood to make it official, and after a real POWERHIT, I realized it was a good idea just to lose a little blood. You know...to help get fucked up.

At quarter to 9 my attorney showed up with a dude named Roy Ryan sitting in the backseat. I knew Roy. Good choice for a notary of the public.

I hopped in the front seat, took a hit that could smoke out the Bronx, pulled out my 9mm and assured them that I would be their only client for the day. I then asked my attorney to pull into the Starbucks where I proceeded to buy us all a round of latte's...just to show I was a cool guy.

After showing them the plan I had laid out in Ranch dressing we were soon on our way to hold up the social security office and force anybody with the last name of Hanks to change it. My attorney tried reasoning with me by stating the odds of finding anyone with the last name Hanks were slim to none, but when you smoke enough Meth, you pretty much become psychic. And sure enough I was right.

"EVERYBODY BE COOL AND NOBODY GET'S HURT!!" I yelled as we entered the social security office while putting a round into the floor." I WANNA SEE ID'S NOW!! NOW!! NOW!!"

The mostly elderly crowd were quite startled as I rounded them up inside the office along with my attorney and Notary.

After taking a MONSTER pull off my ice-pipe I explained that I was not out to hurt anyone.However, the way I saw it, nobody in the U.S. of A. deserved the last name Hanks unless they starred in TV's Bosom Buddies, which left out everybody in the country except 1 guy who's name I don't know.

It was then that I saw an elderly gentleman attempting to sneak out.

"STOP THAT GUY ROY!!!" I yelled while exhaling

Fuckin Roy. The guy just stood there. So luckily I had a sudden burst of energy and pounced.I tackled the old man, rolled him on his stomach and stole his wallet. Sure enough I found him....CRAIG HANKS!!

I held the 9mm to his held and asked him where the fuck he got off stealing the honorable Tom Hanks name. He just sat there looking like there was something wrong with ME.

I ordered the clerk to draw up some papers with my attorney for a legal name change including a new Social Security number. Thats when Craig "Hanks" started in with the whining. 'how dare you make me give up my name! My father stormed the beaches of Normandy'

"YEAH WELL DID YOUR FATHER SAVE PRIVATE RYAN ONCE HE GOT THERE !!!" I quickly replied. That shut him the fuck up.

Just as Roy stamped the paperwork officially bringing America officially closer to a One Hanks America the phone rang. It was the cops.

"Come on out you fuckin crackhead your surrounded" I was told by a Seargant Jennings

"I aint a fuckin Crackhead you asshole I do Meth!" I proudly corrected him.

After some more juvenile namecalling we got down to business. He asked me my demands and I told him I wanted to watch Splash. The name calling resumed after that.

After consulting with my attorney I realized I wouldn't walk away on this one. I let everyone out but my attorney, Roy, the clerk, and Craig Jones. I smoked as much Ice as I ever have in a 5 minute period and got back on with Jennings.

"OK PIG, this is what we're gonna do. You're gonna take me alive THIS TIME, but you'll never take the Commission. My last demand is that I get to change my name to a Hanks character."

"OK PUNK!! But on 1 condition. It can't be Charlie Wilson."

Although I didn't understand why he insisted on this condition I agreed to it. 10 minutes later, I was no longer Marc Leclair. I was Josh Baskin. 15 minutes later I was arrested, beaten severely, and finally began coming down...what a fuckin' bummer.

So here I am incarcerated just shy of 6 hard years later. Do I have any regrets, sure I do. I shouldn't have signed my plan in blood. Just gave the DA more to work with. But what are you gonna do.

Other than that I stand by the Commission to this very day. I have yet to gain any other members at the time of this writing, but I remain optimistic. After all, if theres one thing prison teaches a man it's that if you get the Latin Kings on your side, you can accomplish anything.