This is the full story of how I got a bunch of musical gear stolen from me, only to later recover most of it. A lot of my friends only know the first half of the story, so I felt it necessary to tie the saga together in all its irony in the form of a blog.
This is a blog I wrote on myspace on September 2, 2007, just a day after the said thievery:
So, I got some stuff stolen yesterday from my van, musical stuff, about $800 worth of it to be exact.Among this was my electric guitar, an Ibanez Talman:
and a case of 4 pedals (Boss Chromatic Tuner, Boss Blues Driver Distortion, Boss DD3 Digital Delay, and DOD Chorus) w/ miscellaneous cables:
If by chance you see them, call the police. No wait, actually, don't. Their lazy asses took like 3 hours to get to the crime scene to file a police report as they were too busy observing slow moving, peaceful traffic at the BYU game. Just call me and Dan Leach, we'll execute some vigilante justice ourselves.
Actually, it's not likely that I'll see my stuff again. So I guess what I'm really fishing for is a small donation so I can repurchase my gear (Hint: my paypal address is firstname.lastname@example.org)
Hey, it could be a lot worse, they could've taken my left arm, rendering me useless to play guitar;
Or they could've stolen a song that I wrote, by far a more priceless possession than any musical instrument.
So, to the thief of my stuff, I know your intentions must've been good. You must have no doubt have been jaded by the oversaturation of mediocre music in our world today via the internet, and so I am assured that your theft of my stuff was purely an act of civil disobedience, and not an attempt to further your own financial interests. If my assumption is correct, then I hail your nobility and simply lament the fact that I was the unlucky target of your anonymous protest.
So after posting this, I was bombarded with a flood of support from friends. I got about $100 in donations, which I used to buy 2 of the 4 pedals I had lost. A good friend and musician, Joe Gibbs, who was as attached to my stolen guitar as I was, took pity on me and loaned me one of his Fender Telecasters. I would later buy this guitar from him, and he was very patient in awaiting my last of several payments.
As stated earlier, I was rather complacent in any attempt to track down my stuff, although I did check at a local shop, AAA Pawn Shop, for my guitar, but to no avail.
So I basically let the rhythms of the universe run their natural course, going on with my life, playing music, forgetting about the whole ordeal, and assuming that the thief of my stuff would get what he had coming to him via karma. That was, until one January afternoon, when I got a phone call from one Joe Gibbs.
"I'm at the pawn shop, and I'm looking at your guitar right now," he said.
"Are you sure?!" I asked.
"Yes. It's yours" he replied.
"I'll be right over"
Well, "right over," ended up being the same AAA Pawn Shop in Provo (who inaccurately told me that they DIDN'T have my guitar back in September), and in 5 minutes, I was there, looking at
not only my long lost Ibanez Talman but also 2 of my 4 pedals and all of my miscellanous cables.
Now, since I had failed to fill out a police report back in September when my gear was stolen, I had to walk across the street to the police station and fill one out then. One report-filling-out later, Officer Moore accompanied me back across the street to AAA Pawn to retrieve my stuff. I had to pay $80 to get it all back, which is how much the thief got for it all, but considering I never planned on seeing it again, $80 was a steal (no pun intended, seriously).
After describing the salient features of my guitar and pedal board to Officer Moore, I was reunited with my stuff. As I hefted my Ibanez Talman once again, Officer Moore remarked that he knew that I was in fact the rightful owner of the guitar by the sentimental attachment I seemed to have with the instrument.
At this point, it was up to me if I wanted to take legal action against the lowlife who stole my stuff. Despite all of my friends' advice to the contrary, my apathetic/charitable side kicked in (still haven't figured out which) and I decided that it wasn't worth the time, money, and effort to go after this windburnt meth-head, especially since I got most of my stuff back anyway.
So there you have it. In hindsight, I probably should have done more for my case after my stuff got stolen. But this whole experience has only reaffirmed my belief that if you set your expectations low, you'll never be disappointed.