"Giving money and power to government is like giving whiskey and car keys to teenage boys."
- P. J. O'Rourke -
There I stood, freezing my ass off...
It was mid-winter, and I had just gotten in from an excellent bodyboarding session at Torrey Pines beach. Thank God, this was back in the days when I still wore a wetsuit.
An excellent bodyboarding session.
Image courtesy of Christopher Sardegna and http://unsplash.com
My Surfmobile was gone!
I knew there was something shady about the tall, scraggly fellow who questioned me while I waited for the gate to be unlocked. He didn't really care when the beach would open; he was sizing up my van to steal it while I was out surfing. I guess I ought to pay attention when something makes the skin at the back of my neck crawl...
After calling my wife,
I sheltered in the restroom to stay out of the wind. Conserving body heat, I was stewing over what had happened. My beloved Surfmobile! Gone without warning. Would I ever see her again?
My Surfmobile wasn't the only thing missing.
Along with the van, that thieving S.O.B. got my wallet, credit cards, and a checkbook with a stack of blank checks. I had left all that, along with the keys, in the tilt-out glove box that was part of the engine cover.
When we contacted the credit card company, we learned that the bastard had already made a purchase at a nearby gas station. Once reported, we were no longer liable for further charges.
I filed a complete report with the police.
They had all the information I could muster, along with my home and work phone numbers.
Police had better things to do.
Image courtesy of Matt Popovich and http://unsplash.com
In the ensuing days,
we began getting reports of the thief passing our checks in the greater San Diego area.
We had changed the account numbers, and the bank was working with us to allow payment on legitimate checks that had not yet cleared. I called the police detective assigned to my case every few days. He had nothing.
But you're not going to believe what happened next.
It was a clear lesson in government corruption.
Within human government, normal incentives are all backwards. Government "services" run on "Alice in Wonderland" logic.
We began getting collection letters from the businesses where the crook forged our checks. Telling the stores about the theft was not sufficient.
In their eyes,
we were the criminals. We had to provide each business with copies of the police report and a notarized affidavit that we had not written the check. OK, fair enough.
Victimized at every turn.
Image courtesy of Adriano Gadini and http://pixabay.com
But I thought the police would want to know where the thief was passing checks. It's their job to bring bad guys to justice, right? You'd think the cops would want to go after the criminal who stole my van, used my credit card, and was passing bad checks all over town?
Wrong! The police detective refused to accept any information from me. "You're not the victim" he told me. "The stores where the checks were passed have to file a report."
Say what???
That's funny, I sure felt like a victim. And, why wouldn't the cop who was supposed to be pursuing this thief want information on his whereabouts?
So I called the businesses that were ripped off. Surely they would want to report this to the police?
Wrong again.
The stores all had "check guarantee" services to compensate them for loss. Too busy. Not interested.
No frickin' wonder people are going around stealing cars and passing bad checks! The whole freaking government/corporate/legal system is set up to support the crooks in their efforts! The entire system is cleverly designed to make life miserable for innocent victims.
The system drained my wallet.
Image courtesy of Nikolay Frolochkin and http://pixabay.com
But wait, there's more...
After losing my van, credit card woes, bad checks, and devil-may-care police, the crowning indignity came about a month and a half later: The police found my van.
Well, not really.
It wasn't exactly the police who found it.
The van had been abandoned in the parking lot of a small group of shops about a mile from where it was stolen. One shop owner had finally become irritated enough to call the police.
And so, the police let me know right away. I joyfully climbed into my Surfmobile and drove it home, right?
That might have happened in a better world.
The cops called their towing buddies.
Image courtesy of Jim and http://pixabay.com
Here's what actually happened.
Rather than call me, police called their crony towing service to come and haul my van to a storage yard. Apparently, it was too much bother to be sure I had been informed that the van was found. Instead, an automated police recorded voice called my work number late in the evening on Christmas eve. I was not there to get the message, having just gone home for Christmas vacation.
Two weeks later when I returned to work, I heard the message for the first time.
In order to get my own van back, I had to pay the police contractor towing service the cost of towing plus the cost of two plus weeks of storage.
Rather than protect and serve,
the government system extracts the maximum possible revenue from those it pretends to help. It supports cronies in the towing and storage business who profit from the hardship of citizens. These revenue gathering activities keep police detectives too busy to actually investigate thefts or to bring thieves to justice.
Those are the facts of my case. I hope you fare better wherever you are living.
There's a glimmer of light in this tale.
One of the things lost with the van was my personal study bible. It was filled with a lifetime of hand-written notes and cross references. I had been grieving the loss of my bible as much or more than all else.
Thank Jesus, my bible was still there in the van, along with its countless hours of study notes. God is good.
FIN
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