It's not a criticism, it's an observation.
Last Tuesday, during the Richland County Council meeting, someone broke into my car. While the Honorable Mike Montgomery was waxing poetic on his inability to comprehend the new budget audit without several days' notice, some victim of society was casing my vehicle and looking for something to break the window.
As Chairman Mizzell and the Honorable Kit Smith were screaming at each other over Parliamentary Procedure, this poor soul, forced to steal by circumstances beyond his control, was demolishing the passenger window and stealing CDs and my satellite radio.
And while the Honorable Bernice Scott was admonishing the rest of the council for the hate in their hearts, this crackhead was trying to make someone a deal on the latest Kenny Chesney CD.
The worst thing about having your property stolen is the inconvenience and idiocy. This guy could have picked up aluminum cans on the side of the road and would have worked less and made more money with no risk of jail.
I guess he wanted the big score. People who leave a mid-priced vehicle in a not so favorable neighborhood after 9 pm don't have anything in the car that equates to a big score. The big score guys have been safely at home since before sundown.
The stupidity of snatch and grab thieves always surprises me. My crackhead took a satellite radio that will never work for him or anyone he sells it to. On the other side of the dash was a compartment full of change; at least enough for a bottle of Red Dagger.
He stole ten CDs. Under one seat was a notebook filled with 60 of them. The rear of the car was full of stuff I use at work. Enough trinkets and supplies to buy Manhattan from the Indians.
Because of him, I got to spend quality time with three outstanding sheriff's deputies, one extremely professional city policeman, and two crime scene investigators. Each of these guys went out of their way to do everything they could to help resolve an impossible situation.
It was interesting to see real crime scene investigators working. Nothing like CSI on television, but we already knew that. I was sad when Marg Helgenberger didn't get out of the car and a little disappointed when neither officer put on those funky yellow glasses, took out the black light, and searched the grounds for bodily fluids.
All in all, it could have been much worse. My car is already back to normal and didn't get stolen. No one got hurt. People always say that. "At least you weren't there. You could have been hurt."
I know I'm a fat old man and my butt kicking days, if they ever existed, are long past. But I would have gladly paid the $250 deductible, given up the Grammy winning Delbert CD, and cleaned the glass up again, just for the chance to have been there when he threw that rock. I'm convinced it would have been worth my while.