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.