Review: "60 days in Pinal County Jail"

I don't know about you, but every time I see a show about the harsh and violent world inside prison, I wonder: "How would I do in jail?" I've never been behind bars, have little-to-no "street smarts," and the last time I was in a fight was 6th grade. Would I be an instant target?  Would I become someone's "bitch"?

So when I saw "60 days in Pinal County Jail" pop up as suggested viewing on Netflix, I thought this  might be my chance to get a realistic picture of life in jail (or, at least, this particular jail).

Pinal County jail inmates

In this show, seven "regular" people are sent undercover as inmates into this Arizona jail. Only the sheriff and a handful of other top officials are aware of their true identities. Each participant is given a "mission" to see what he or she can learn on one of three topics: Drug use, gangs, or "jailhouse operations."

The idea, according to Sheriff Mark Lamb, is to help him learn what is really going on in the jail. But let's face it: What we really want to see is whether the incoming "sheep" will by eaten alive by the prison's wolves.

I was particularly drawn to a slightly pudgy participant named Mark. The sheriff called him "soft" at the start and Mark admitted to being scared. Hey, I thought, that's me! 

"60 Days in Pinal County Jail" goes to some lengths to portray the jail as dangerous. At every opportunity, the show flashes a montage of violent shots (inmates fighting, someone screaming, guards forcibly holding down a prisoner). To emphasize the point, the sheriff and his aides repeatedly state that the subjects are risking their lives.

But once you get past all the bluster, and watch as the cast members enter the jail and settle into daily life, well, not that much happens. While the series stretches to 11 episodes, there's probably only enough good material for seven or eight. 

To gin up some tension, the show has to make the most of some pretty tepid disputes — a stolen can of soda, a TV that's too loud, or Mark's missed chance to sign up for a razor for shaving.  

One thing this show has is swagger, and no shortage of it. The inmates, both men and women, have no problem talking tough. If you played a drinking game where you took a shot every time one of the inmates promised to hurt someone, you'd be shitfaced in no time.

But if you could only drink when an actual punch was thrown, well, you could easily get in your car and drive through a DUI checkpoint after most of the shows. 

There are a few fights, but only between people who choose to fight (the male prisoners have a particular room designated for fighting). The scariest guy on the show actually turns out to be one of the participants, an ex-convict turned chaplain named Abner.

Abner seems to take his play-acting a little too seriously, quickly rising to the number two in the Chicano group in his jail pod, a spot he repeatedly tells us is "The Enforcer." Somewhere along the line he forgets that he supposed to be watching for trouble and not causing it. 

"I lost myself in there," he admits later, adding, "I actually was a gang member in there."

Abner repeatedly stirs up the racial tension in the pod. In one of the most bizarre turns, Abner singles out a a young inmate who is trying to avoid the racial politics, punches him, and then goads another prisoner into landing a few more blows on the youth (who does not fight back). 

Abner isn't the only one of the "cast" (that's what the show calls them) who behaves strangely One of them, a private investigator named Steve who brags ahead of time about how tough he is, causes problems almost the minute he enters the pod. He inexplicably gives the "emergency" extraction single in a non-emergency situation ("I just wanted to see if it would work," he says in the epilog). He then threatens to expose the whole program to the inmates. He is quickly yanked and sent home. 

The three women, Brooke, Vivian and Jasmyn, are explicitly told ahead of time to work independently and not to congregate together. As soon as they enter the jail, they congregate together. 

I liked another participant, a cop named David, who was tough, smart and often the voice of reason in defusing tensions between inmates. But he made two reckless mistakes late in show, revealing a connection to Abner and then confessing his undercover role to one of the guards. This triggers a cascade of events that causes the entire program to be cut short. 

As it turns out, the participant who did the best was "soft" Mark. He stays close enough to the action to have a good view, without finding himself in too deep. Other than Steve (who barely had time to ruffle his sheets before being pulled), Mark is the only participant who didn't drawn suspicion as a snitch.

Book review: "The Answer is ..." by Alex Trebek

It's not really surprising that I would like Alex Trebek's autobiography. After all, I have long been a big fan of "Jeopardy," the quiz show that Trebek hosted for 37 years before his death from cancer in November 2020.

What surprised me about "The Answer is ..." was that not only did I like the book, it made me like Alex Trebek even more than I had.

In the book, Trebek acknowledges that he has long been viewed as "aloof." Of course, it's hard to really know someone through the prism of television, but while I respected him as host of "Jeopardy," I shared the sense that Trebek saw himself a bit above the rest of us.

But in "The Answer Is ...," Alex Trebek reveals a more human side. He describes himself as both "reserved" and "silly." He worries that he is sometimes oversensitive to criticism. He gets frustrated, like we all do, when he calls his bank and can't reach a person.

Trebek emphasizes that he has always tried to keep the focus of "Jeopardy" on the players rather than himself (he insisted on being called the "host," not  the "star," of the show).  

"You could replace me as the host of the show with anybody and it would likely be just as popular," he writes.

It turns out that Trebek is in many ways a modest and down-to-earth guy who loves simple things like crossword puzzles and home fix-it projects. This is a man — a millionaire many times over — who opted to fix his own dryer rather than pay a repairman $200. Why? He loves a challenge.

"That's very important in life. It's one thing to do the same thing well over and over again," he notes. "But try to force yourself into attacking a new project that you've never done before, and say, 'Okay, how do I solve this?'" 

The format of "The Answer Is ..." is unconventional for an autobiography. Rather than a wall-to-wall life story, Trebek offers short vignettes from his life and small selections of thoughts. Most of the chapters are just two or three pages long; he tells a quick story or offers few thoughts, and then ends it. For the most part, it works. I might try it myself if I ever write an autobiography. 

 Among the various things, we learn:

• His actual name is George Alexander Trebek
• He spent less than two days in military college before quitting
• A third grade prize he received for public speaking propelled him to seek a career in broadcasting
• At an event he was hosting in 1967, he met Queen Elizabeth II and they chatted for a surprisingly long five minutes. The next day, when he saw her again, she didn't remember him. 
• Worried that he was too clean-cut, he started joking about having a drinking problem (in fact, he preferred 1% milk)
• He had a habit of arriving 10 minutes early for everything. 

There are a few gaps. For example, I would have liked to hear about the trips he made as part of the show — to the Galapagos Islands, Machu Picchu, and the Dead Sea, among others — but he doesn't talk about them.

Also, the book includes three photos of him in costumes from the New York Metropolitan Opera. This deserves at least a short explanation, but it's not there.

What is there are honest thoughts about the value of family, and hard looks at the debilitating effects of pancreatic cancer. 

"One taping day early in my treatment, my stomach cramps got so bad that I was on the floor writhing in pain," he writes. He still did the show that day.

"Aloof" or not, Alex Trebek had a classy final act. He wrote the book knowing that it would likely be his last opportunity to describe his outlook on life.

“My life has been a quest for knowledge and understanding, and I’m nowhere near having achieved that," he reflects. "And it doesn’t bother me in the least. I will die without having come up with the answer to many things in life."

He adds: "I'd like to be remembered first of all as a good and loving husband and father, and also as a decent man who did his best to help people perform at their best. Because that was my job."

Book review: "Answers in the Form of Questions" by Claire McNear

It would have been easy for Claire McNear to have written a half-ass book about "Jeopardy." Plenty has been written about the long-running TV quiz show in magazines, newspapers and books, and there have been multiple "behind the scenes" short documentaries and videos. 

McNear could have easily taken pieces from all these sources, cobbled together something resembling a book and sent it off to the publisher without breaking a sweat.

Fortunately for all of us, McNear is not a half-ass journalist. For "Answers in the Form of Questions," she went all out — interviewing every significant person involved in the making of the show, as well as notable and not-so-notable contestants and devoted fans.  She goes back stage to watch tapings, spends a night playing bar trivia alongside some of the show's past champions, and visits quiz competitions to see "Jeopardy" wannabes in training.

"Many fans are surprised to learn just how sportlike 'Jeopardy' can be," McNear writes. "It has many of the hallmarks that we associate with sports: a prospect pipeline, rigorous physical (and, yes, mental) preparation, a hall of fame, and strategic innovators revered decades later for their additions to the game, who sometimes go on to assume the role of coaches."

 "Answers in the Form of Questions" is a terrific book that both serious and casual "Jeopardy" fans will enjoy. McNear details the history of the show, the background of host Alex Trebek, the testing and audition process for would-be contestants, the mysteries of the writers room, and the curious subculture of "Jeopardy" fanatics. 

Even if you think you know a lot about the show you'll learn something in this book. Did you know that John McCain, the future senator and presidential candidate, was a one-day winner in 1965? That you can't wager $69 or $666 on the show?  That Alex Trebek actually hosted "Wheel of Fortune" before "Jeopardy"?

I learned that before the Final Jeopardy portion, show staff have players write "Who is" or "What is" on their video screen so they don't forget during the critical 30-second countdown. I didn't know that there's a "Jeopardy" bar scene the evening after taping, since many contestants stay in the same hotel. I had never heard of notorious contestant Barbara Lowe, who appeared on "Jeopardy" and other shows using fake names. 

"Answers in the Form of Questions" digs into game strategy tips shared by former players, including wagering tactics, and the importance of knowing how to use the buzzer (or "signaling device," as the show calls it).  You may never have heard about the "enable light," but after you read this book you'll know there is a raging debate in the "Jeopardy" community about whether or not to use if for buzzer timing.

One thing the book is not about is the Alex Trebek's battle with pancreatic cancer, which led to his death in November 2020. McNear only spends a few paragraphs on it, including noting that original "Jeopardy" host Art Fleming also died of pancreatic cancer. If you want more about Trebek, consider reading the book he released before hid death, "The Answer is..."