Not the Way I Meant to Be 'Car Free'

The other day, as we were riding through the West Bottoms, Corinna pointed out a place I hadn't previously noticed. It was a euphemistically named halfway house for those attempting to exit the penal system.

Its bike rack was absolutely full. Of course, that's the thing in America. If you use a bike for transportation the assumption is you have no choice.

Bill Poindexter clearly has a choice and takes it to the extreme of picking a fight at the DMV about whether he should have a driver's license when he has no plans to drive.

Me, I have two daughters, one who hasn't learned to ride a bike and one who's on strike against such ideas coming from Dad. Maybe someday I can surrender my Dad's Taxi license, but for now, I have to settle for going Car Lite.

So last Monday, after a weekend so fantastic that even though my camera basically died (and I'm heavily addicted to my camera), I fairly skipped out the door to go to work. I was going to take the millstone because I thought I had a meeting in Gardner that evening, and as I went to unlock my car door I noticed the lock was missing.

Attached to this lock was a 1997 Honda Accord, white with a bike rack and numerous bumper stickers including three bright orange 'Give Cyclists 3 Feet' stickers and one about trusting the government.

My car had Bermuda triangulated.

My first thought was I'd left it somewhere, but no, I remembered driving the recycling bottles to the Ripple dumpster the night before, filling the tank with gas, and locking it up tight before bed. Jamie's appliance straps were in the back seat from the deep freeze we picked up with a borrowed truck before that.

The cop gave me a number to give my insurance, but it's a salvage title '97 Accord, I only carried liability. And, I'm told, it's in the top three easiest to steal cars on the road, apparently eating lead paint chips and smoking crack won't even dull a mind to the point where they can't get in and start it with a simple screwdriver.

I'm looking up and down the street and seeing nine or ten cars I'd rather take than mine, so maybe it was just a matter of someone seeking low hanging fruit. However, I'm getting tired of people exclaiming, 'Your car???' and 'Who'd steal that?'

Help me look for my car, by the way: I'm told it's likeliest that it was abandoned after 24 to 36 hours in the parking lot of a big box store since they're notoriously slow to notice abandoned vehicles in their lot. Wal-Mart, Lowes, etc. If you see a white Accord with a bike rack and three bright orange 'Three Feet' stickers, call the cops please. Or call me, I really want to get that heap back.

Oh, and I don't favor the death penalty for car theft any more: I think a much more enlightened way is blinding the car thief with acid. Guaranteed deterrent since sight is pretty well a bona fide job qualification for car thieving.