
The low-security inmates show up in the morning in their cartoonishly bright red and white striped coveralls and set up the 2,000-odd concert chairs; the morning after, they take em down. And while the obvious neighborhood concerns about terrifyingly dangerous criminal monsters lurking around have been uttered, the main complaint I can get behind is frustration at not giving the jobs to the local community—I'd rather my tax dollars go to a make-work program in the middle of a recession than to the extra security costs entailed in the transport and monitoring of a chain gang.