Blog

Short blog posts, journal entries, and random thoughts. Topics include a mix of personal and the world at large. 

I feel you, bro

Last time I was back at my parents’ place, my mother told me someone stole all four wheels off the neighbor’s brand new car. She woke up one morning, peaked across the street, and there it was: a Honda Accord tiled on cinderblocks. Why would someone steal wheels off a plain Honda Accord? Because the Honda sedan is ubiquitous. There’s so many of them on the road that the demand for spare parts (law of large numbers vis a vis collision accidents) must be equally sizable. That means a fresh set of (stolen) wheels (plus nearly new tires) should easily fetch many hundreds of dollars.

I do feel bad for the neighbor. According to mom, it’s some young adult who moved into the downstairs in-law unit across the street. The Honda Accord was the first new car he’s ever bought with his own money. Pretty exciting, right? I can remember that joy when I drove my Subaru WRX STI home from the dealership. So much joyful emotion that I nearly had an anxiety attack. Anyways, it has to suck greatly to see something so new and cherished (and expensive) being messed with by amoral thugs. That undercarriage is forever marred by being jacked up on cinderblocks.

I can empathize with that neighbor, too. It seems that particular block of Visitacion Valley is cursed for new cars. Back when my parents bought a brand new Toyota Corolla for me to begin college (many thanks), another set of thugs threw a cinderblock at the driver-side A pillar, while it too was parked on the street. It was a complete violation of the most precious object me (at the time, anyways). While the damage was fixed promptly, the car never felt the same to me since that incident. Sentimental value vanished alongside the purity of an unmolested new car.

Hopefully that neighbor doesn’t love cars as much as I do. If that Honda Accord is just an appliance to him, he’s going to get over the incident rather quickly.

People watching.

Victim of property crime

Property crime against cars in San Francisco is well-documented and infamous. It’s almost every week I see someone on twitter commenting how their car got broken into when they made the fateful decision to visit the city. Earlier this year, my friend had her own car’s window smashed while it was parked inside her apartment’s supposedly secured gated lot! Indeed, even patrolled garages aren’t immune from the plague: a few weeks ago I saw a car in our work lot with both front windows broken, which is just insult to injury: a single window wouldn’t have sufficed for the thief to steal whatever they needed to?

This crime phenomenon is precisely why I insure my car with Geico, because the company offers free glass replacement, no matter the comprehensive deductible. Somewhat ironically, in the many years since I’ve started driving, not once have I experienced my cars getting broken into, which by the virtue of writing that out I’ve just jinxed myself tremendously. I ashamed to say the damages done to my cars over the years are all my own, though the Toyota Corolla did get a brick thrown at it by local hoodlums on the second day we brought it home from the dealership, such was the state of the neighborhood back in the mid 2000s.

A few days ago, my father got off work to find someone had drilled a hole in the gas tank of his car, though curiously the big vat of collected petrol was still sitting right underneath. Either the perps were caught by police during the act (not likely in San Francisco), or they found a better offer elsewhere. Nevertheless, dad had to fill the tank with a canister with enough gas to get the Hyundai Tucson to the nearest mechanic. The fix was simple: a self-taping screw into the hole, then a bead of sealer surrounding the head. Due to the presence of gas, metal welding was out the question.

Since the Tucson is a lease, as long as it doesn’t leak, we’re going to leave the visually crude fix as is.

That’s the thing with vehicular property crime that’s so frustrating: you have to take the time to get the damaged remedied. It’s already bad enough that things were stolen out of the car; the additional hassle to make the situation whole again is salt on the wounds. I can see why some people get so fed up that they vow to never return to the city unless they absolutely have to. Whatever excitement San Francisco offers does not outweigh the potential of retuning to a parked car with an unceremonious gift left behind by miscreants.

Sooner or later, the powers at be will need to step up on enforcement, because more and more people are abandoning the city…

The evening coffee.