STEALING THE MINI-VAN

There was a time when the city next door was the car-theft capital of America.  This year the city doesn't even break the top ten (nor did anywhere in the entire state of Massachusetts).  Apparently, we have extraordinarily lazy car thieves.  Perhaps the cold weather keeps them on the down-low.

Many people in the Merrimack Valley drive tricked-out, foreign-made tin cans.  If your car doesn't get stolen at some point living so close to, or actually in, bucolic Lawrence, then you obviously drive a shit-box.  A super shit-box.  The shittiest of shitty shit-boxes.

Perhaps it is a cultural thing, a generational thing, or a passing fancy, but apparently the value of your shit-box can increase with the addition of giant stickers announcing the maker of your car.  For example, a brand new Toyota, complete with neon flashing running lights and chrome rims and a sound system that can give heart attacks by sound wave osmosis, will become even more valuable with the giamundo word TOYOTA glued to the windshield.  Conversely, a crappy old rust-bucket can be made into a sought-after super-ride if you paste it together with stickers that say such interesting things as FORD, MOPAR, and MY STICK FIGURE FAMILY CAN KICK YOUR STICK FIGURE FAMILY'S ASS.

All of a sudden, your car will become a magnet for car thieves.  No, really.  This is true.  And, best of all, you can trick out any vehicle just by adding these car-thief magnets: custom vinyl windshield stickers.

I know this because today I see a mini van all tricked out with these stickers.  Oh, other than the stickers, it is a basic stock model, but add in those stickers, and suddenly you're at the top of the hit list for gangs, haters, and car thieves.  In the van are small children bouncing their heads around in the back seats, probably tossing Cheerios around for fun, and a single male driver in the front.  At first, it seems like any ordinary charcoal gray mini van.  But, when it starts heading toward me, I see the sign glued to the inside windshield, a sign that screeches HONDA.

I am tempted to yell something as the van passes me.  I want to laugh ironically twice: once for the fact that they need such a big-ass sticker to remember what kind of vehicle they're driving, and once because now their vehicle enters the realm of steal-worthy.

"Guy," I want to say to him, "get those kids to a safe location.  That sticker is an invitation to chop-shop heaven!"

Okay, so maybe not even the stickers can make a mini van tricked out enough for lazy Lawrence car thieves, but it all makes for an unusual story, whether it's true or not.  Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go peel some stickers off my car windows and throw some stale Cheerios on the floor mats to prevent it from being stolen.