Thursday, 16Apr10, almost 300 million Americans were robbed. Well, forcibly extorted by the federal government in a crime that is euphemistically referred to as “taxation”. I haven’t paid income tax in years, but not in a supercool “white collar crime” kind of way. I just plain don’t have a job. Well, I do, but not a wage earning job. I go to school, volunteer my time, and act as a loyal son to the parents who are putting me through college. That’s my job, though it doesn’t pay wages.
But Fate would have me getting just as cleaned out on Tax Day as everyone else in the country. I wasn’t euphemistically robbed, I was literally robbed. Or technically burglarized, I suppose. I came home from a marathon session of gluing Warhammer 40,000 models (Chaos Space Marines, of course) together, and when I pulled into my driveway noticed something was wrong. I was very tired and couldn’t quite put my finger on it, so I sat in my car just staring at the backside of my house trying to puzzle it out. Eventually it dawned on me that the difference I was seeing but not yet understanding was my kitchen door being wide open, and my bedroom light was on.
It still wasn’t registering, and as I made my way across the lawn I was imagining a scenario where I was in such a hurry that morning I hadn’t thrown the bolt far enough and the door had come ajar. I was fretting over my house cats having maybe wandered away and got lost, and remembering the last time I had walked up and down my alley trying to find a cat I would never see again, and just starting to panic.
That’s when I saw that my backdoor wasn’t just ajar, it had been broken open forcibly. Walking in I was relieved to see that Drifa, who I had deemed most likely to run off, was waiting in the kitchen excited to see me, and Tomo was creeping up the basement stairs cautiously. The next thing I noticed from the kitchen was that the doors on my house shrine were wide open. That’s about as personally invasive as someone can get, and I was immediately panicked again, thinking someone had vandalized the shrine or the gifts that my Heathen friends had given me that I keep there.
Rushing to the house shrine I was relieved to find that the doors and cabinets to it were open, but nothing inside had been molested. Then I remembered that my Bersa .380 had been sitting on top of the shrine cabinet in its pistol case, and when I looked it was gone. Turning around I looked into the den, and the backpack I had forgot that morning in my hurry to get to school on time was gone too, along with the laptop and all my school supplies I had left in it. My Nintendo Wii was gone, and a quick check confirmed that my Ruger 22/45 pistol and Ruger 10/22 rifle had been nicked as well. What really froze my blood was when I remembered my iaito, and rushing back into my bedroom my fear was confirmed; my custom Tousando iaito from Japan was gone too.
They opened my stereo cassette decks, and I guess they didn’t want my Alphaville album. They did take my iPod, and I guess they’re having a good time right now trying to figure out what sort of person would have a nearly complete Skrewdriver discography on the same iPod as several collections of random anime theme songs and Andrew Lloyd Weber musicals. I hope it blows their mind when they see The Smiths right next to Slayer, and they just can’t handle it and run off and join a Luddite commune or something.
Diverting away from my tendency to use humor to mask blinding rage and looking on the bright side, such as it is, I suppose it was good that the thieves were just that, simply thieves, and not deliberate vandals. As much irreplaceable personal information and media was on the Macbook they absconded with, more seriously irreperable harm would have been done had they taken to stealing or destroying my personal documents, such as my folder with all my awards, diplomas and certificates over the years, or the stack of enlistment papers on my bookshelf, or any of the pictures of the family that exist nowhere else in the world anymore. So there is that.
So whether you had to file aggravating forms and write a cheque or just come home to find your house had been looted, at least we were all in this together.
Fitness reports, the next installment of Iron Lawyers of Mars, a long overdue book report on Rommel’s “Infantry Attacks” and some updates to the hobby section coming just as soon as I can get the house back in order and figure out what I’m supposed to be doing in school.
I WILL flourish again…