Woke up with a cold medicine hangover today, not so addled though that I forgot to curse the alarm. Skipped the gym and was happy not to have to take The Boy to school. Went upstairs, got started on what should have been an easy work day. Julia was up and moving a little earlier than usual, as she had an AM doctor’s appointment scheduled. She heads out to leave, and comes back in.
“Where did you put the car?” she says, puzzled.
“You drove it last.”
“What about when you took Sid to school this morning?”
“He doesn’t have school today.”
“Chris, the car’s not out there.”
See that dark space not covered with snow? That’s where the car was supposed to be. Some fucker stole it some time after the snow stopped falling last night. Tracks clearly showed it backing up, then heading down the street. They paused long enough to spin a few donuts at the four-way intersection just down the block.
We’re guessing they got ahold of a set of keys. About a week ago both sets were accounted for. About midweek we only had one, but that’s not unusual — sometimes they turn up in pockets, purses, whatever. Julia’s pretty sure the keys she’s been using are the ones still in her purse. So it’s possible the other set was out there and we didn’t realize it, or they were left in it some time over the past week and the fucker grabbed them then with a plan to come back some other time. Once not all that long ago I went outside in the morning and the passenger door was open, so we know there are people with bad intentions occasionally about. We’ve tried to be better about keeping the keys inside, nothing valuable out there, etc. Obviously somewhere we fell down.
So we pile in the truck so I can take Julia to her doctor appointment at the Blue Mountain Clinic — just her yearly, routine check up. No big deal. But there is a little knot of anti-abortion protestors hanging out at the gate, and women volunteers in the parking lot to escort women into the clinic.
I was kind of dumbfounded. Friends of mine have told stories about these protestors, but it’s never been anything I’ve encountered. I dropped Julia off, then as I was pulling out they were yelling at me. I rolled my window down.
“Why is she coming here on killing day?” this old bat hollers.
“Killing day? What do you mean?” I say.
“They kill babies in there!”
I just felt this surge of rage stir. Maybe it was being sick, the thing with the car, I don’t know. “This country kills thousands and thousands of people every day!” I holler.
“I should hope not, I should hope not!” The old bat answers. The two old guys flanking her were babbling something too, but I was so pissed all of a sudden I knew I just needed to leave. So I hauled ass. I was pissed all the way home — I’m talking knees-shakingly pissed. These people are representatives of the crowd that put that asshole in office who started two wars that see the murder of thousands of innocents a year, and have made refugees of millions. And there aren’t any signs of it stopping under the new asshole. No, I’m not a big fan of abortion, but I am a huge fan of a woman’s right to have one should she choose to, or should medical circumstances require it as being in her best interest.
I haven’t been that mad in a long time. I’m really glad I didn’t linger.
So I call the cops on my way home, and ultimately an officer arrives to have me fill out a report.
While I’m inside filling it out, he’s outside doing the investigator thing.
When he comes back, he says he could track the treads all the way down the street. Apparently the asshole was pulling into every driveway down the street, then getting out and checking all the other parked cars. He got good pictures of their shoe prints in the snow, he said.
And pretty much that’s that. In a couple days I’ll call all the towing places to see if it’s been picked up and impounded anywhere. Technically there’s supposed to be communication between the police and those places, but you and I both know how that is going to go down.
So I go back to the clinic to pick Julia up. The asshole protestors are still there.
I didn’t speak to them at all this time. I suppose I should take the high road and say I’m glad they have the right to do this, but it’s still pretty lame. When you consider the terrorist activities of those of their ilk who blow up clinics or assassinate doctors, though, one could say they too are on the edge of that slide into terrorism themselves, if not closer. You wouldn’t get any argument from me if you said that.
Passing their car (I know it was theirs because there was an anti-baby killing sign leaning against the windshield) I had to chuckle at the Ron Paul sticker. I still have earnest people trying to tell me he is “the guy” I should be pulling for. Fuck Ron Paul and his “revolution.”
So it’s been a weird day. Like Julia said, if we knew someone took the car because they needed it to get to work, or really needed a car, or something like that, it would be one thing. But knowing it was probably just some deadbeat meth-head or someone using it as a means to transport other stolen shit to wherever those people take that stuff, sucks. It sucks too because it was originally my mom’s first brand new car, and when she got a new one she signed it over to us to “keep it in the family.” It was kind of a beater and had some problems, but there is some sentimental value there. I hope it turns up.
What a weird freakin’ day.
On a positive note, this long-awaited, much-anticipated comic comes out today. Note the title. Coincidence? Hmmmm. . . .