What, Me Worry?

A commercial for an upcoming episode of a talk show hosted on a major network by a well-known doctor plans to give viewers four signs to look for letting them know they might have cancer. A local cardiologist, also on the airwaves every day here, gives viewers information on signs to look for, telling them that they might have heart disease. The website of the most popular internet news micro-manages what’s happening in the stock market. Earlier this morning, the forecast was negative based on what’s happening in Greece. After the markets opened, “Stocks tick up on positive U.S. economic data”, explaining why, in spite of the economic crisis in Greece and more generally the Euro market. The GOP presidential contenders continue to sling mud at one another and, of course, at the current administration. If we are of a mind, we have sufficient cause anywhere we look and listen for our anxiety levels to rise. And the news goes on. Anyway you slice it, we have cause to feel anxious and worried. I understand why some people eschew print and broadcast news.

I’m not a news junkie. I ignore most of what I see on the news website that is my internet homepage. Articles and op-eds focused on politics get my attention, but I let most of them pass on by. The local crime report, which apparently is characteristic of all local television news, bores and disgusts me. The national network news is a way of punctuating the day—sometimes with a glass of red wine nearby. The trend over the last few years for each of the three networks to close its broadcast with an uplifting human interest story pleases me. For this—to hear about some of the good things we are capable of and actually follow through on, and to have the option of enjoying a glass of wine if I so choose—for this, I say thank you.

Last fall my house was broken into while I was away for a few weeks. Fortunately, a friend was keeping an eye on my house and discovered the break in, apparently on the day it occurred. And fortunately, only my television and a collectible old western saddle were taken. On the unsettling side of this equation, however, the thieves tried to kick in my front door that night, in an attempt to come back for more sellable material. Their efforts were spoiled—yet another reason to give thanks. A few weeks ago I walked out my front door one morning and discovered that an old, hand-made trunk, which had set undisturbed on my front porch for many months had been taken. My theory—that the thief had kept watch, and the moment to strike seemed right. Maybe it was just a random act.

And so the story goes with those who have something that someone else wants. If the desire is strong enough and the opportunity exists, such things occur. Police report? Absolutely. Insurance claim? I don’t think so. No one wants his premiums to increase or for his policy to be cancelled—especially in the case of minor theft that one can fairly easily absorb. A hard, bitter pill to swallow, but at the same time, a good reality check. “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” (Matthew 6:19-21) My heart tells me that heaven begins here and now, and that flat-screen televisions and collectible western saddles don’t have much to do with heaven. Some of us do love our worldly treasure, however.

As I prepare to take leave of my home for several weeks, I’m taking reasonable precautions. Both my front door and back door are solid wood. My landlord has voluntarily put steel security doors on the front and back of the house, which is located in a “good” neighborhood. Nonetheless, it is a neighborhood where 13 thefts had occurred within a half-mile radius over a 30-day period. The top locks of each of the interior doors is now double-cylinder. While a key is required to open these locks from either side, someone with enough determination could use a screwdriver to remove these locks, once they get into the house through a window, all of which are 1940 vintage steel frame with small panes of glass.

“Why don’t you have an alarm system installed” I’ve been asked. Just not ready to go there, I reply. I don’t know how much longer I will occupy this house I lease. So, I plan to pack the portable things I prize most and take them to a friend’s home nearby. This is no way to live, right? I don’t want to be yet another part of the local crime stats, but I know that ultimately I can’t control that outcome. Normal property crime doesn’t make the news. The crime has to be much more troubling—murder, rape, abuse, major theft, drugs. Ah drugs—most likely the motivation for theft of my property.

As I prepare to leave my home here for awhile, I am anxious. Why shouldn’t I be? The news and my own experience speak to the vulnerability I feel. When I lock the door the morning I leave, I will have second thoughts. Did I remove what I treasure most—that which can be taken easily? The front porch will be empty—a step I took a few weeks ago, following the petty larceny—petty, they call it—that occurred while I slumbered. Someone will be checking my property frequently. The porch light will be on each night. An automobile will be in my driveway. A light on timer will come on each night. This is what I can reasonably do. Every thought is a prayer. My highest thought for my home—my sanctuary in this place—is that it can escape even the news that doesn’t get reported. No news can be good news. And so it is.

What, Me Worry?—The Land of Enchantment (February 16, 2012)

R. Harold Hollis