Two CD's untouched in the arm rest storage compartment, no real scratches or real damage of any kind. It's sitting at the dealer's shop being repaired as I write and I'm planning to run it through a car wash I like over in Berkeley after I pick it up later this afternoon. Just put it out of my mind: hand Honda the plastic and take the four hundred dollar hit. I wonder if my insurance covers any of this? Vandalism. Probably not, but I'll call and find out.

I'd be angry if it weren't for the fact it could have been so much worse. Why my car as opposed to the half dozen others that were parked along the block? I'd arrived early to meet Mr. E at the BART station, so, having some time to kill, I walked to a local Rite Aid store to pick up a bottle of the Folic Acid I'd run out of that morning and walked with it back to the car, opening the door and tossing it out of sight inside. This was before six in the evening with plenty of light and traffic, but I remember looking down the sidewalk at one lone guy walking toward me and wondering if he were wondering what it was I'd thrown inside.

The Folic Acid was sitting where I'd thrown it, as it happens; people who bust into cars aren't looking for vitamin supplements. Perhaps because of the camera I had over my shoulder, he or they thinking there could be other similar equipment inside, coming back later to see. Then again it was probably just the gods spinning the wheel and last night my number came up. Fortunately a minor inconvenience. I could as easily have stumbled across whomever in the act and come into real trouble. So again, no complaints, the car is being fixed and everyone is otherwise well. Here in Oakland.