I got a very sweet, very touching, very concerned email from someone I know. She read the Unknown Thief post and concluded I was a hand grenade that had its pin pulled, waiting to go off; a person drowning in a sea of homicidal mania ready to pounce on the first bastard to give me lip.
I guess I should explain several things:
1) Where the act took place, an executive was very indulgent and patient and on two consecutive days went through a seven-camera security system recording of the time of the event. Unfortunately, although there were suspects, there was nothing conclusive. I could not have gotten a court order for the images because there was nothing overtly incriminating. And if I had gotten the images, uh, extra-legally, what would I do? Waste my time tracking down people, terrorizing all but one who was innocent? No thanks.
2) I spent a few days in a rage. Then I wrote about it. I’m a writer. Like bursting a boil or popping a pimple, writing got rid of the infection. Since writing about it (which was after the security tapes), I haven’t given it much thought. What good would dwelling on it do? What would I accomplish by doing that? I have things I want to do!
3) A replacement device has already been purchased and I will have it soon. My energy is on getting back to work, not going on a half-assed vendetta. Vendettas only happen in movies, where a protagonist can get away with things that no one (especially me!) can get away with in real life. (Trust me; I’m a writer! I know about movie writing.)
4) I doused myself liberally, generously, and greedily with the music of Morrissey, The Smiths, and — especially — Girls Don’t Cry. The Smiths’ Every Day Is Like Sunday — how can it not make me feel better, with the wonderful lyric, “Come Armageddon Come”? And the Girls — my god, I love their music so much, it can’t help but exterminate any nasty impulses creeping through my heated brain. (I love you, Girls!! “Beautiful thoughts!”)
5) Kirk Kerkorian will probably never know how many people he’s helped — I’m one of them! Years ago he was involved in a bitter competition to purchase some huge company (it might have been Viacom or Gulf+Western or CBS; something monstrously large). He didn’t get the company. A reporter called him up for his reaction, expecting him to be heartbroken or some silly thing like that. His reaction? I quote it fully: “They won, I lost. Next!”
And that’s where I am: Next!