May // 2010 // equivocality

Almost three months ago, I walked into a music store and bought a ukulele. I didn’t even know the frets on the ukulele (or guitar, for that matter) were raised; I thought they were just lines painted on the neck used as guidelines for finger positions. Ever since, it’s filled a void in me. A void I didn’t even know existed until I found myself feeling empty when I didn’t get a chance to play.

Famous Blue Raincoat is one of my favourite Leonard Cohen songs. I wish I could write letters like this.

I haven’t quite figured out what kind of style or genre I want to apply to the ukulele, but I think my singing ability (or lack thereof) will limit me to the soft Sam Beam folk sound unless I started taking singing lessons. Borrowed in my interpretation is a variation of the picking pattern Cohen uses in a lot of his earlier songs, such as Hey That’s No Way To Say Goodbye, adapted for the soprano ukulele.

While my brain picks out the mistakes and details I need to work on when I see myself play, I try to keep in mind the words of my Tai Chi teacher, “We’re never as bad as we fear nor as good as we would like”. I don’t think I’ll ever be satisfied with my musical ability unless I could commit a lot more time to it. Unfortunately, that would mean less time for another hobby, so I have to accept that this will probably be close to the limit of my ability. Hopefully, I’ll be able to clean things up in another few years. Patience will come from learning to be satisfied from the act of playing itself, and not the mastery of it. For now, this’ll serve as record of my progress.

You stole:

My Apple earbuds, which I didn’t care much about, cause they’re shitty and feel like stale muffins in your ears. The only reason I had these in the car was to talk handsfree while driving. Which was probably only three times a year, but very useful when needed.
About $20 in change, which is more than I need for parking, but this was also the spontaneous junk food fund.
My GPS charger, which was in case the battery dies on the road (cause I hate driving with it plugged in). I don’t keep my GPS in the car when it’s cold to preserve the battery, and I haven’t needed it since the winter. I’m pretty sure you would have stolen my GPS if it was in there.
My iPhone charger, which was brand-spanking new, and used for long road trips.
My auxilliary audio cable, which I use to play my iPhone tracks over my car stereo. I was thinking of replacing it anyway cause it was way too long and the bunched cable looked like clutter, but I was still annoyed by the fact that I had to drive 10 minutes to the nearest Circuit City to buy another without being able to listen to the music I wanted.

You didn’t steal:

My wheel locks, which would have been no use to you without the key, and annoying for me to replace. So…thanks?
My assorted music CDs, which I needed an excuse to clean up anyway, so you not taking them didn’t do my any favours. They were also really good songs, and not stealing them probably means your taste in music sucks.
My model cat, which I keep in the back seat and has been getting mixed reviews lately. About 50% of people are fine with it, and 50% are really creeped out because they think it’s real and refuse to sit in the back unless I put it in the trunk. But it was a present from my uncle in Hong Kong, so I’m really glad you didn’t take it.
My emergency blanket and candles, which I felt like you should have taken, because I can’t imagine you being very warm if you’re a petty crook.

I have to wonder if you were so upset about not finding anything valuable that you decided to steal things that aren’t even worth selling or fencing, out of spite. It wasn’t enough to make a claim on my insurance, so I have to buy this stuff again. But I don’t really need any of it, except for the auxiliary cable, which I replaced with a fancy new retracting set and with which I’m much happier.

Just this week I was reading about that colonel being charged with a string of break-ins to steal underwear, and how the people in that neighbourhood felt shaken at the news. I empathized with them, and felt lucky that it didn’t happen near me.

But when I came out of my house and found the contents of my glove compartment spilled onto the passenger seat, I was reminded that this is a fact of life everyone is forced to accept, because no one is immune. It’s a necessary evil, to remind people that putting too much value in our possessions means we only have more to lose.

The only thing that bothers me is that I feel violated. I’m pretty sure I locked my car, but there’s no sign of forced entry, so I wonder how you got in and whether you now have free access. I can’t change my parking spot. My car will always be there, so now I need to keep anything valuable out of it. Not that big a deal really, but it’s less convenient to have to remember to bring change any time I want to park downtown. Also, in the spring I like to keep all the windows of my house open, and now I won’t feel safe doing that when I’m sleeping on a different floor.

But I still consider myself lucky. Lucky you didn’t make out with more than $100 worth of stuff. Lucky my first experience with theft was relatively minor, and an inexpensive lesson learned. Lucky I’ve been feeling good lately and that this incident is only a small blip on my radar.

I can only hope that you used the change to feed yourself, because if you’re stealing random shit from cars, you probably need the money more than I do.

But, please, don’t do it again, cause to be honest, I’d rather it was me eating those McDonald’s french fries on Friday night.

CITY AIRLINE FLIGHT STATUS

Famous Blue Raincoat (ukulele cover)

To the person who broke into my car last night