Psst, Wanna Steal a Car? How About Mine?

I don’t know the exact statistics regarding the number of car thefts in the immediate area, but it is not high enough. The boosted car total is at least one car shy of the optimal number.

It is hard to know why this is so.

I have put this car in the most steal-able positions possible over these years, neglected every rule of caution and simple common sense, left the doors unlocked and the windows down for hours at a time, parked in dark corners of underground lots where you wouldn’t be noticed if you set up a meth stand and a billboard advertising your hours.

I have left the keys dangling with the ceiling light, one of the very few things that work on this car, this ceiling light I mean, shining directly upon them, giving them, if I may use somewhat poetic language. the jeweled look of nearly irresistible temptation.

I have rendered the interior in colors I imagine are inviting to both the career criminal and the young person just starting out in the business, hues remindful of the interior of a Las Vegas casino, accompanied by lots of dark wood and leather seating to give a specious air of sophistication, the type of interior that ought by rights to turn an enterprising young man’s thoughts to larceny.

I have stopped short of posting a sign in the windshield – steal me! – only because it would seem like a trap to any but the most unwary criminal.

Well, I have done it, this sign thing, you’ve got me there, but only a couple of times.

No avail.

This car is the most unstolen car in America, though there is always the possibility that some fine young people have indeed stolen it but have upon further consideration and closer acquaintance with it brought it back before i noticed it was missing. It is hard to argue with their judgment.

The reluctant conclusion to be drawn is that car boosting is a dying art.

It is said that entrepreneurship is up and there seems to be no lack of the animal spirits in the economy so necessary to establishing a new enterprise or seizing an opportunity when it arose.

In my youth automotive reownership was a good entry point into the working world.

It called for judgment, team building, data gathering, a bias for action, and an ability to quickly adjust to changing circumstances, such as when you are caught in the act and someone is running after you and, as it turns out, shooting at you, all highly valued skills in today’s competitive marketplace.

Many a business leader of my generation, when faced with declining sales, soaring costs, a plummeting stock price, and a mutinous board of directors, no matter what their industry, will think back to that special time in their youth when they were pursued by either the rightful owners of the car or competing would-be thieves, while shots rang out in the alleyway, and say to himself, “now what lessons forged in those long ago days can I bring to bear upon this trying situation?”

Perhaps it is a generational thing.

The boomers, say what you will about them, were always resourceful when it came to identifying new revenue streams. They got capitalism. They could spot an opportunity and turn it into a ready cash flow in the matter of a few seconds, and then were off and running.

The generation today….you hate to make generalizations, but they just don’t seem to have the same get up and go as their elders.

More interested I suppose in their video games and their smartphones, more interested in slacking and riding their skateboards and wearing stocking hats and posting to Instagram than they are in getting ahead in the world.

They look at a perfectly stealable car and it simply never registers that it is there for the taking.

It is alarming to think that we are relying on these people’s contribution to Social Security to keep it solvent, but that is the way it is, my friend, that is the hard truth.

Personal approaches in these matters are sometimes advised, but those too have fallen flat.

There is a shady side to this town with the bars and saloons to match. Parking the car outside of one of them, deep in the shadows, windows down, keys dangling, I walk in and survey the clientele.

There is this one fellow sitting alone at the bar. He has a hardened look, like someone open to opportunity. I take the next bar stool over.

Me: (opening the conversation.) Nice night out there.

This Hard Guy at the Bar: (noncommittal). I suppose.

Me: A perfect night for a little action.

This Hard Guy at the Bar: A little action?

Me: You know. Action. Grand larceny. Auto theft.

This Hard Guy at the Bar: What’s wrong with you?

Me: Just you and the stolen vehicle, screaming down the road, glorying in the rebellion of it all. What a poke in the eye to the system, eh? The criminal hero, breaking every rule that society lays down. The outlaw just scoffs!

This Hard Guy at the Bar: There are many fine people who would be happy to talk to you about this….

Me: One last job! What do you say? One last hit!

This Hard Guy at the Bar: Many clergymen today have training in talking people through their thoughts when they are most confused, I can recommend…

Me: Matter of fact there’s a sweet little number sitting out in the parking lot now. Keys in the ignition. Just crying out to be stolen.

This Hard Guy at the Bar: Oops, there goes my cell phone. I asked my wife to call me when my favorite show was about to come on.

Me: I didn’t hear a cellphone.

This Hard Guy at the Bar: Well, it’s more like a buzz. More like a vibration, really. Gotta run! It’s been great talking to you.

Me: Check out that car on the way, a ‘78 Comet, and, you know, just follow your instincts.

This Hard Guy at the Bar: Think about what I said, it really helps to talk through these things with a professional.

And so the long night wears on.

It may be that I am trying too hard.

I have put the vehicle out close to the curb right around large item pickup day. There are always roving trucks circling the block the weekday evenings before, and I carefully place this car close to the pickup sight at the corner of the driveway.

My thinking, always subtle, leads me to surmise that if someone was giving automotive thievery some consideration but didn’t know whether they wanted to specialize in it, then they could steal this car as though it was just a big misunderstanding.

“Oh, I thought you had it out for big item pickup! What a mistake to make!”

“Not at all,” I would say, ‘think nothing of it, and when I say ‘think nothing of it,’ I mean think nothing about bringing it back to me. You have stolen it fair and square, that is the way of capitalism and I strongly am in favor of the capitalist system, so fly, young person, fly, and enjoy the fruits of your villainy!”

This comes off a little strong, I know, and it wouldn’t surprise me if this scene ever came to pass that the enterprising youth says, “umm, no thanks, Pops, I think I’ll pass on this one.”

Now we are to the heart of the matter.

It is not that there is some barrier between grasp and reach in this matter. It is that they don’t want the car.

They don’t want so much as a hubcap off this car. Nor a rearview mirror, external or internal, nor a tire tool, nor any of the intriguing boxes of who knows what treasure I have scattered carelessly in the back seat.

They want nothing to do with my car.

Car owners themselves no doubt, they are afraid, calling upon primitive tribal instincts, that if they steal my car, or anything off my car, their current car will catch whatever it is.

This is a cold position to take, but you can see their point.

It does not take hours of thought to see that my car has a slouching, sullen attitude. That it has a taste for betrayal, for setting up your expectations as you drive yet again out of the repair shop only to dash them a few hours later. You do not need a degree in automotive psychology to recognize that this car has psychopathic tendencies, mixed with a  narcissistic personality disorder.

They are right, these reluctant thieves, to keep this car out of their lives.

Give it a wide berth, simple common sense says, chant holy texts as you walk by, keep your mind on sunny thoughts and happy circumstances. There is a shadow side to this world and that car comes directly out of those shadows.

No, the rational mind says whatever this car has can’t possibly be contagious, that’s just not how it works.

But the ancient mind says, we cannot let this loose, one of these cars in the world is enough.

Two might tear down the whole joint.