Sunday, July 12, 2009

to catch a thief



I would like to start this blog entry with a very simple question (although I fear your answer may not be that forthcoming) Question; When is the last time you stole something? Just to remind you what it means to steal, here is the Oxford dictionary's description....
steal |stēl|
verb ( past stole |stōl|; past part. stolen |ˈstōlən|)
1 [ trans. ] take (another person's property) without permission or legal right and without intending to return it : thieves stole her bicycle | [ intrans. ] she was found guilty of stealing from her employers

O.K. now that that is out of the way we can proceed...or rather I can (I'm starting to sound like a trial lawyer...sorry)
When I was about eleven I snuck up to London with my friend (who we will call John) because that really was his name.We didn't tell anyone we were going to the big city, we just went. We also didn't really plan anything, we just went from museum to museum.It wasn't that we were into learning or anything(we were eleven for Gods sakes) it was that the gift shops we were after, easy pray for out thieving little fingers.
On this occasion we happened to be in the Victoria and Albert Museum or was it the Natural History Museum, I forget. It doesn't matter.We found ourselves in the bookstore, slash, gift store. John and I started to wander separately around the store. I actually found a few books that I got lost in, and yes I really was drinking in all the 'stuff' but I couldn't tell John, I felt it would let him down somehow. The next thing I know, I was awakened from my million mile away dreams by a big nasty hairy hand on my shoulder 'Do you know this young man' the gorilla in a uniform asked?'pointing to John with his other ape like hand, 'Yes Yes ' I stuttered. 'Come along with me sonny' the ape barked(O.K. I'm not sure apes bark, but you know what I mean) We were led to a small stale cream coloured room at the back of the store. Its at times like this that you really notice that one have a heart pumping away.Mine at this point was working overtime. The prime 'evil' asked us to empty our bags.THANK GOD IN HEAVEN, I didn't have any stolen goods from the boring educational book store.No pillage, haul, spoils, ill-gotten gains, pickings; informal swag. NOTHING...TOTALLY EMPTY HANDED....John on the other hand had enough literature to open a small library(a kind of Victoria and Albert bookstore 'EAST' East of London, that is...thats where we lived).I'm not sure I will ever forget the look on Johns face as they called his parents. I on the other hand felt pure and clean (maybe even a little smug with a pinch of innocent written beautifully across my stupid young face) and not really in the same league as John.I was a free man (boy).It was a long journey home I can tell you (and as you know, I am). I felt I should take some of the blame of my friends shoulders, but I couldn't. I didn't really steal things. I really didn't. Poor John, he didn't even want the stupid books.Why do we steal things we don't really want.Well, John, went on to steal many many more things ,and well, I just didn't ....until now.
Ever since I have been coming to Paris (22 years) I have had my eye (both of them in fact) on some really old beautiful gates (photo above) I fell in love with these gates from the moment I saw them. And who wouldn't.They are old, weathered and very very beautiful.The sad thing is ,that in there day they must have been very grand gates, to what was a very beautiful house.The house is long gone and the property has a nasty concrete block wall around it.But the splendid gates remain.....So what do I do? I walk past 'my' gates at least twice a week and wonder how I can remove them and install them in my posession .If I don't take them, they will just rot and fade away, like the house.I know it would be wrong to take them, because they do not belong to me, but if I just sit by (or in this case walk by) they will crumble and be gone forever.I think really hard about what to do. I think what would be the best situation for the gates and me.I think what would John have done.I think I know the answer.
So when is the last time you stole something?

GROIN UPDATE: (for those that care)
AGHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

10 comments:

Anonymous said...

To out right steal something, well that is something. I often believe that inspiration is a stolen thought that you try to make your own. We steal everyday if that is the case.

One does wonder...but the gates...highly tempting when you have already claimed them in your mind as your own. Is it really so much trouble to see who the estate belongs to to see if instead of pillaging them...if they might be will to let you take them??? Asking is the best way...instead of being hauled away by the Paris police...

Would anyone notice....hmmm...to catch a thief...with a groin injury shant be too hard...unless you went out on a sleepless walk in your night clothes...a wonderful excuse to be left alone...while limping down the street with your gates...but then again...I hope you would use some form of tranport...they look too heavy!

M

PHILIP BROOKER said...

my groin and I couldn't really manage it alone...maybe I should pay someone to steal for me...

Anonymous said...

Two months ago I walked out of a national pharmacy chain with a bottle of hydrogen peroxide worth a grand total of 83 cents. This was after having paid $150 for a tube of antibiotic ointment the size of a stick of Juicy Fruit gum for a lump on my younger son's cheek prescribed by a doctor who told me that she didn’t know what the lump was (the visit was $75). The ointment made the lump worse but, as the world turns, a doctor friend of mine took a look at my son’s cheek, said the prescribed ointment is “crap” and took care of it in less than 5 minutes, adding to use triple antibiotic ointment instead. Lump is gone, son is happy and as for the hydrogen peroxide, the seal stayed on the bottle until a couple of weeks ago when karma came around to remind me of my five-fingered discount by way of a little tumble and I scraped my knee. It could have been worse, I suppose...N

PHILIP BROOKER said...

great little story N, thank you...I will still have to call the police, if you can steal an egg you can steal a cow....busted!!!!!!!!!!! xxxx

Anonymous said...

Well, then, good thing that Flossie the cow has just been relocated to a secret location under the Bovine Witness Protection Program before you got on the horn. Ha!

I can see why you are so taken with the gate. It's beautiful. If afforded the opportunity I would gladly assist you in "acquiring it." xox N

PHILIP BROOKER said...

thanks N......I may just take you up on that moonpie

Neil said...

My neighbour bought her house partly because it had sturdy gates that would keep her dog safe. When she moved in, there were no gates. A helpful fellow in the village told her, "Don't worry, I happen to have some gates that may just fit". And promptly sold her back her own gates...

PHILIP BROOKER said...

neil I love your comments (little stories)..You should crank up your blog again..I would read it on a regular basis......p

Neil said...

Ha! Crank it up? I am already cranked up to the max, I will have you know. The trouble is, I'm just not a natural blogger - when I have an idea for a blog entry, it's nice and simple, but as soon as I start writing it, it becomes an essay. And then when I do post it, other bloggers, who shall be nameless (because I haven't bothered to learn their names) steal it and post it as their own work...

PHILIP BROOKER said...

you know you write very well, unlike me...a hack