Memphis is some pretty...

Someone stole flowers out of our flower bed in our lawn.

They stole flowers.

Flowers.

Didn't even fill in the hole.

Fuming with Hostility

So the general sessions court date for the truck theft came up yesterday and I went to deal with that.

I showed up and was briefed by the prosecuting attorney. She gave me a run down on the questions she was going to ask me before the judge; "Where was the car?", "Did it have a Shelby county plate?", "Was it taken without your discretion?", etc.

It was a general sessions court, which is apparently kinda low on the rung of responsibility and whose primary purpose is that of separating the wheat from the legal chaff. Regardless, I got to see and hear allot of punishments go down. I've never been on that side of the legal rooms. It's terrifying compared to the traffic stuff.

By the time the proceedings for my case were about to go in both of the cops that took down the thief had arrived and were also briefed by the attorney and were waiting patiently in the back. Moments before introduction, the defense attorney asked for the witnesses to be out of the court before they introduce his client to the room.

So, the 2 cops and I were escorted out to wait in the hall.

They were real good guys. We cut up and joked for about 20 minutes and discussed how they caught the guy (they had no clue the truck was stolen, they pulled up behind him and he freaked and took off from a red light into opposing traffic) before the prosecuting attorney came out with a waiver saying that the case was going to criminal court where he would most likely plead guilty.

The defense attorney traded some banter with the prosecutor, parting shots really, whom was bemoaning that she had all her witnesses lined up, shortly after we received the waiver as he was leaving the court room. He seemed somewhat despised by one of the officers whom was grilled by him in the past and recounted a fairly hilarious exchange of questions regarding how a suspect left a car and the propensity of broken windows equates to stolen cars.
The officer was immensely honest and the defense attorney was just looking for an small crack to work with.

Generally, the defense attorney seemed like a bit of a weasel. I suppose it comes with the territory.

The prosecutor said I'd likely never hear from her directly again and that the offices will, at a later date, call to arrange restitution or another testimony in criminal court.

Broiling with Anger

After being stopped by an officer (Mississippi license plate was held on by a q-tip effectively) and questioned about the legal status of the vehicle (steering column protected by a used sock), the driver (here to fore referred to as Mr. R Kelly since he's taking a piss all over everything) took off. After a short pursuit the thief crashed into a pole and abandoned the vehicle shortly before being apprehended.
The pictures are as I got it from the impound lot.

I've actually known about this and the vehicle for a bit now but did not know how to handle it personally. There was a regurgitating fury regarding this when I first set eyes on the truck again. There was also some arcane douchebaggery at the impound lot regarding pulling the vehicle out (at one time it was estimated to be around $400, and under draconian pretenses) that turned out to be mostly smoke and mirrors (it cost $135, and was pretty straight forward).

The pictures speak volumes. He sold everything not bolted down- wait, no. In a precedent violating RPG conventions, he sold everything... even the stuff bolted down. He sold the spare tire and jack (with evidence that he had trouble getting it out much like I did), the center console radio, and all sorts of odds and ends including the battery and tires.

But he replaced the window he broke and put on some bitchin', as one friend put it, "black man rims".
That evens it out right?

I'd call this rape, I mean he stole my Truck, What kind of a sick sort of individual steals a man's truck? And not just stole it, put on his own rims and drove it around like it was his.

However, I think it demeans the meaning of the word despite it taking my sense of security and value regarding the vehicle. It's merely disheartening now.

Mr. R Kelly's upgrades: Keyless ignition. Seriously, it's bloody mind numbingly easy to jack a GM apparently. Just crack open the steering column and pull on one of the tabs inside.

The damage run down: Structural damage, hood jam, fuel leak (serious), bad battery, interior cosmetics, passenger side rear tire locked, parking brake unresponsive but presumed disengaged, wipers come on with the lights, and "black man rims".

It runs actually. It moved -defiantly, engine roaring- under its own power to where it is now, but no further due to a lack of precise control on account of the wheel locking up.
However despite first appearances, the damage is quite significant. It's far more in cost to repair than what it costs to get another truck; particularly given the bar that has to be passed with Memphis inspections.

As such it will be picked up today by a wrecker.

I've said my good byes and hope it goes to "Truck Heaven" (queue heavenly choir) for being such a reliable vehicle.

Bonus points on the moron who did this: Now this creeps me out. I got the court papers recently. After seeing Mr. R Kelly's name, I realized that we've gotten this guy's mail before. I've always written "does not live here" on the envelopes and put them back in the mail box though.

Simmering with rage

My truck was stolen last night. Right out from my own driveway. I had to sweep up the glass, all that I have left of it, earlier and throw it away. I'm out the full value, into the trash, as I did not have comprehensive coverage on the vehicle. Not that I think it would have really mattered though, the depreciated value would have made me pay more for the insurance than what I would have got for the vehicle.
In a sick way, I came out on top regarding that.

The truck meant a lot to me. It was mine. It was paid off. It went with me everywhere and, on some occasions, took care of me and kept me warm. My first dates with my wife were in that vehicle. It's still kind of hard to fully grasp its loss as I keep tumbling through the different stages of grief/acceptance.

It had my Last Exile figurine.

Anger is one I keep coming back too though. It makes me want to go all Pierce Bronson on the public until I get the vehicle back. Though I know that is not going to happen. However the "price" that was paid was that I used to have a sense of civic duty before this in the sense that I will not take part of "white flight" and leave this neighborhood to let it be that much less without me, whatever value that is.

But within almost exactly a year, I've had one wheel stolen from the Malibu, my brother and friend mugged, and my truck wholesale stolen. This strains my sense of civic duty. I can't go outside without feeling like I might get mugged... or come back to my house vandalized.

So, we will move. Queue "Mars Bringer of War".

Kudos if you catch the reference.

I've ignored the signs long enough.

At least the cops came within 5 minutes of making the report. They should have an easy time finding a '93 blue Chevy Silverado.

It's a veritable diamond in the rough.