Merry Christmas II

The news won't let go of the church in Queens that was burgled of its collection during a Christmas Mass. It's given the press an opportunity to do what it does best: create clever headlines laced in moral outrage. But the cash was there, and to someone who would take it, the fact that it's Christmas wouldn't stop them. Hell, he was probably angry that it was Christmas and he had nothing better to do than steal from a church. Being a compassionate soul, I wish him a long prison term in which to dwell on his self-loathing.

I've always believed that I live in a crime-free neighborhood. It's very quiet and we live at the end of a long-ish dead-end street. No thief with an ounce of self-preservation would venture into a trap like this to burgle anyone. They always look for an alternate escape route.

So I thought. About four o'clock Christmas morning my wife was awakened by headlights down in the cul-de-sac sweeping across our windows. Now that she was awake, she got up and turned off our outdoor lights and morphed into Santa for a minute to fill my stocking, and went back to bed.

The next day while walking the dog, she ran into a group of neighbors and learned that in the darkness of early Christmas morning, someone had broken into two of our neighbors' cars as well as a tool shed, and made off with keys and credit cards and a thousand dollars' worth of tools. Major big hassle for people. They have to cancel all their cards, re-key their house, all that. And such a violation to discover on Christmas morning!

Thought Number One: We're not so safe. This habit of never locking the house might not be such a good one. Not that I'm worried about anyone coming in when we're home. It's the middle-of-the-day thievery that concerns me; and even so, we really don't have anything. A computer, a DVD player, a television. Big deal. So long as they don't burn down the house, I can live with it. Would rather not have to, of course. And they're not likely to get my grandmother's silver: it's in a nondescript cardboard box in the garage, hidden in plain sight. How's that for security?

Thought Number Two: Why the tools? This is what I think. To work in construction, you need your own tools. They're a major investment. So you buy a pre-owned set from midnight tool supply. What else is a responsible, hard-working, and piss-poor family man to do? It just sucks for my neighbor. Big house notwithstanding, he's a construction worker. And as fun and easy-going as he is, I doubt he will get his replacements from midnight tool supply.

Thought Number Three: Mark all your tools. Heck, I got a cell phone for Christmas, I think I'll mark it too. So: Engraver, or soldering iron? Or just a big scrawl in fingernail polish?