New York State of Crime

One moment I was texting my daughter about a her new part-time job at school; the next there was nothing.  So I followed up with email and Facebook messages.  Where did she go?

Well, she went nowhere; her phone took off.

A ne'er-do-well (aka vile thief) stole her phone at a local coffee shop.  It was a slight of hand that, while irritating and unfair, thankfully did not culminate in her being harmed. 

Image courtesy of
 Iamnee/FreeDigialPhotos.net 

She demonstrated calm and decisiveness in seeking help.  She also experienced her first trip to a police station to file a report since the thief's sticky fingers were hard at work elsewhere in lower Manhattan. I pray it is her only ride in a police cruiser. 

A friend's daughter smartly categorizes these types of life events as "First World problems."  It is a perspective builder I often use in conversation.

Yet, I realize my perspective is damaged. 

I am transported to a zany car ride to JFK airport in 1989. My husband and I were headed there en route to our honeymoon destination.  We were uber late and pathetically lost in a non-GPS world.  The ride to the hospital years later when I was in active labor now seems leisurely compared to the Mr. Toad's Wild Ride to JFK on that autumn afternoon. 

As we screeched to the airport departure curb we breathlessly agreed he would return the rental car and I would check in the luggage.  A quick bag count netted a false confidence. Bags were tossed. I ran hither and yon. He ran hither and yon - we looked one stooge shy of Mo, Larry and Curly.  (Skycap? Not for the thrifty, self-sufficient newlyweds.)

Upon checking in I noticed my tan camera bag was missing.  I scanned the area of our messy luggage exchange - nothing.  "He must have it," I thought.  I rushed  directly to the gate.  (Shoe removal and body scan security measures were 12 years into the future.)

My husband breathlessly arrived as the final boarding call was announced.  We finally exhaled until I asked about the camera bag.  He didn't have it. 

The phrase "This is a First World" problem was not remotely in my mind. 

Mo and Larry were had.


Image courtesy of 
nonicknamephoto/FreeDigitalPhotos.net

This all bubbled up in anger and letdown as my daughter told me her tale.  A social trust was violated. Her surprise at broad daylight crime reminded me of mine.  And hearing that one of my cubs became a thief's target inflamed this Mama Bear. It made for a short trip to yesterday.

The Minolta 35mm camera and lenses, college graduation gifts from my family and tools in my young, small newspaper job life, held sentimentality and utility. I told myself they are just things but I know I marked the bruised spot on my ego.

Years later, a house fire, where many more sentimental things vaporized, gave me another chance to weigh not only personal safety fears but also my hold on the value of valuables.  It's psychological ping pong.

Anger over having my camera bag stolen has been locked up tight all these years later - to what end?  It's like an engine that revs wildly yet remains in neutral. 

On the other end of the crime spectrum, I am reminded of the time my husband lost his wallet in New Jersey only to see it returned completely in tact via the US mail.  The only thing missing was $2.00 used to mail it. There was a brief note explaining the missing $2 but no name or return address.  My daughter lost her driver's license at the Philly airport this summer; a few days later it arrived via the US mail. No note or return address. 

I can't help but think these phantom finders simply followed the Golden Rule.  

They were satisfied with doing the right thing even when no one was watching.  I pass it forward every chance I get.  It softens my anger to remember their kindness as the perfect counterbalance. 

 I manage to get a chuckle from my daughter as I greet her with "Hey there, world traveler!" when Portland, Oregon or Denver, Colorado show up on my phone while she borrows friends' phones to call me.  She is riding the waves.  She is building "city life" muscle. 

Lots of learning is happening inside and outside my girl's college classrooms.  I am happily caught off balance by the lessons sent my way via her world.