This is one of the better pieces I’ve read on how to make your place a harder target for burglars.

There is a reason why I react very badly to solicitors who ignore my sign prohibiting such:  because it helps my home security for them to think a crazy person lives here.  A crazy person probably owns the means of defense, and radiates eagerness to resort to them.  In reality, I am not.  But burglars hate surprises, and a person of seemingly unstable temperament and fierce disposition could present all manner of surprises.

Personally, I think the best home security system is almost free:  know and like your neighbors.  Nearly all my neighbors will keep an eye on this place when I’m not around, just as I do for them.  One pays nothing for this except the nominal contributions to general interdependence and community security that signal membership:  help one another, be friendly, be interested in lives without being nosy.  I think that if the burglars sense for one minute that they might be under surveillance and that someone may already have called the police, they’ll find a softer target.

It’s much like personal self-defense.  You don’t have to be Chuck Norris.  You just need to be a harder target than other people.  It is my view that making my neighbors’ homes harder targets does the same for my own.

Oh, and if a couple well-dressed young men come to your house offering a free evaluation for a home security system, you know what to do, right? Ask them to wait a minute; you left something on the stove.  Go get a camera.  Bring it to the door.  Snap their pictures, and then smile, and let them know you’re sending the photo to the police, because they’d love some photo evidence of likely burglary suspects.  Then make them get the hell off your property.  (You have to be physically imposing to do this the way I did, which involved profanity, a raised voice, and a sports implement, so adjust this to your personal capacity.  But you can certainly dial 911 right in front of them and say, “I have a couple of people pretending to sell security systems here, trying to case houses for burglary in my opinion.  Would you send an officer to deal with them?”)

It’s all about being a hard target. Burglars depend on us being nice, trusting idiots.  Cold, distrustful, intelligent people are hard targets.

This afternoon I took a look outside.  I saw a section of  my fence completely shattered, a bunch of gnarly tree roots torn up (some large enough to cut up for firewood), and a Bobcat sitting in the dusty, rocky driveway with a rear wheel removed.

It is illogical to conclude that the Bobcat was jacked and stripped by Bobcat thieves.  It is more logical to suppose that the contractor got a flat tire.  That must have annoyed him quite a bit.  So must the tree roots have.  Myself, I’m not too enthused about having a section of the fence blown away, but I’ll find out what happened before I have a reaction.  I’m guessing there was a root running under the old concrete (now removed completely), he got hung up on it with the bucket, and it somehow ripped out that fence section.  He is probably wondering how he’s going to explain it to me.  I am betting this is one of those cases where one gets more with flexibility and patience than with anger and venom.

Tomorrow, at least in theory, he is building forms, and I’ll have to mark where I want the fence brackets, so I’m sure I’ll get an explanation.  It should be very interesting.

…but that is one of those things we simply bear without too much grousing, as it cannot be changed.  I looked out when I awoke, and a third of my driveway was gone.  I must remember to wear earplugs to bed tomorrow, as I ought to have tonight.  I guess I have had such lousy contractor experiences that, deep down, when they said they’d come, I didn’t believe them.

Yesterday I had an inspiration and need to talk to the contractor.  Why not pour a low speed bump where I park my truck? The logic is that I would use it as a wheel block, really, one additional safeguard against failing to engage the parking brake and forgetting to leave it in first gear.

Concrete guy was here today to drop off his Bobcat, which I agreed he could park in the driveway early.  It would be pretty illogical to cause petty inconveniences for the guy.  Showed him the brackets he needs to seat in the concrete so that when someday I bestir myself to replace the fence, I have good fencepost anchors.  Feeling hopeful, but apprehensive.  Evidently they are starting work at 6:30 AM Monday, so that should be a pleasing wake-up call.

Got Deb here for a day and a half, so we are going to Outback for dinner, then the fair.  Harmonic convergence:  saves us from spending a lot on fair food, which often isn’t that great and is usually difficult to eat with flimsy utensils in crowded dining areas, and means we get out and walk after we eat.  We will engage in one of our timeless rituals:  I will make a manful attempt to win my wife a cheesy stuffed animal, usually by throwing darts.  I’ll fail.  Deb will step up and nail it immediately, winning a larger animal.

I always wonder about the carnies.  It’s a hard life, I think, with long hours and no dental care (to go by the looks of most of them).  They always look like they lived in Wyoming and aged prematurely due to the harsh conditions.  On one hand, it would be an interesting summer adventure for a young person–especially a young male with little to zero sexual experience.  On the other, you could end up doing meth and/or getting hepatitis.  What strikes me is to look into those eyes and wander what sort of story lies behind them.