A smash hit, and then no more radio

September 23, 2008 11:46 am

Once again, I seem to have come out on the losing end of a disagreement with one of my fellow citizens over the Private Ownership Of Movable Property.
While the rest of us were tucked safe and warm in our beds, some miscreant smashed the passenger side window of my pickup truck and removed the stereo.
That’s a cruddy thing to see when you go out to the truck first thing in the morning. The window gone, little bits of glass sprinkled here and there, and a big hole in the dashboard. Not exactly the way you want to start the day.
Now, you may have noticed that I started by saying “Once again.” This is not the first time I’ve been involved in this disagreement. Over the years my Movable Property Gone Missing has included:
n Two sets of T-Tops from a Pontiac Trans Am. (What can I say? It was my Smokey and the Bandit phase.)
n Garbage cans. I still haven’t figured this one out. Who in the world steals garbage cans? Half-full garbage cans, I might add.
n An ashtray. Used. Once again ... why would anybody take that?
n 100 feet of leaky garden hose.
n Green plastic lawn furniture. Which has since been replaced by heavy, metal lawn furniture held in place by a steel cable looped through eyebolts cemented into the porch floor. Mess with me again, lawn furniture thieves.
n Another radio. Stolen from another truck. Which had its window smashed.
n And the radio I replaced it with. Same thing.
The thing is, they weren’t all that great as stereos go — strictly middle-of-the-line, pitifully underpowered Close-And-Play models, compared to today’s Atomic Powered Neighborhood Levelers. They were, however, visible. I guess that makes it partly my fault for driving a truck with glass windows.
Of course, your first inclination upon discovering such an event is to call the cops. This is always good for a laugh. I live in a big city with a full complement of bad guys, the kind who make radio thieves look like Boy Scouts. Compared to people getting shot — which has been happening with alarming regularity this year — a stolen radio is a short beer indeed. Besides, it’s over. What are the cops going to do? Dust the sidewalk for shoe prints?
Then comes the call to the insurance company, and another laugh. This was the day after the remnants of Hurricane Ike blew through town. Let’s just say the phones were a little busy at the claims office. I was on hold quite a while. Although it was nice to hear the guy come on the phone to say my call was important to them. About 200 times.
Eventually, this will all get sorted out. The window will be replaced, I’ll get another stereo, and my friends will once again tell me to move.
And even though many seem to disagree, I will continue to insist that movable property is not the property of whoever moves it.
Oh, and to the person or persons unknown who boosted my stereo: Be sure to listen to the CD inside. It’ll be my little way of getting even with your sorry self, because something tells me our musical tastes are not similar.
I really doubt smash-and-grab thieves go for Jimmy Sturr’s Polka Band.
© 2008 Mike Redmond. All Rights Reserved.

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