I had occasion today to reflect on just how out of control crime has gotten in my neighborhood.
I wasn't able to sleep this morning, so I ventured out into the cold, crisp winter air for a warm, soothing Starbucks coffee. On the way out, I found a note tacked to my door from the homeowners association. It seems that all of the sprinkler heads from every acre of the property had been stolen. Apparantly, brass sprinkler heads are worth a good bit of money as scrap metal. The ones stolen from our property alone will cost more than $10,000 to replace. I suppose that kind of cash will buy plenty of crack, or Mad Dog or whatever addiction these thieves needed to feed.
My own need for coffee now sated, I stopped by the local convenience store for some sundries on the way home from Starbucks. Pulling into the parking lot, I decided to sit there for a few moments, idly enjoying the warmth of the car and the Outkast song on the radio. No need to hurry out into the cold. Apparently one of my fellow men had no such compunction. A rather large man who appeared to be jogging... in his boxer shorts... ran into the store. "What a fruitcake," I thought.
Once the song ended, I bustled into the store. The cashier was on the phone notifying the police that there had just been a beer run. It seemed quite clear that the half-naked fruitcake jogger was the culprit. The police shouldn't have much trouble finding the guy: he was probably the most scantily clothed man in town on this wintry morning.
It's New Years Eve tonight, so I have been playing Old Scottish Air on my piano while reflecting on all of this. It seems to me that even above beer runs and sprinkler head thefts, the biggest crime in my neighborhood will occur tonight... if I don't get a New Year's Kiss.
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