I’ve always known about that song that goes: ‘I’m in the OPP. Yeah, you know me!’ I never really knew or cared what OPP was or who the song was by. It was just a song that came on the radio every now and then and got stuck in my head for a day or so before I forgot about it completely for another six months. Then, as I sat behind bars in New Orleans and looked down at my orange jumpsuit, I saw printed the letters O-P-P. Then it hit me. Orleans Parish Prison! ‘I’m in the OPP.’ And there I was too. It was sort of like living a dream, but more precisely, a horrible, horrible nightmare.