Theft

St. Louis hosts a great 4th of July bash. It used to be called the V. P. Fair, but the name has been changed the Fair St. Louis in recent years. Why the name change, you ask? I don't have the foggiest idea. We all still call it the V.P. Fair anyway.

V. P. stands for Veiled Prophet. Every year, some St. Louis business man gets to dress up like the pope with a veil covering his face, and ride in the 4th of July parade. I suppose it looks bad to out-of-towners, seeing some dude dressed in white with a white pointy hat and a covered face. They probably wonder if a lynching is part of the festivities. I heard many dark rumors about Masonic satanists and perverts running the V.P. Fair. Somehow my child's brain turned that into the Veiled Prophet being in drag under his white robe.

One year I was getting paid to hand out balloons at the Fair. It was a hot and tiring, but rewarding job. After work, I walked down to the Arch, where the festivities were going on. I met my mom at the St. Francis De Sales beer booth, where they were selling -you guessed it- BEER. Saint Louisans are a strange bunch. We will go out of our way to buy beer from a church, rather than support the small businessman.

I helped mom sell beer for the next hour, watched the fireworks, and helped clean up. When everything was done, we went down the hill to the Huck Finn/Tom Sawyer riverboats. My sister was a waitress on the boats, so we hung out until she got off work. Then we rode the bus home together.

I was so tired, I almost fell asleep on the bus. Once home, we went into the living room, and discovered our TV was gone. Our intruders had also taken the stereo, the change jar (that held mostly buttons) and mom's silver dollar collection. They had gone through every drawer in the house, including mine.

Our front door had a dead bolt, but the back door had only a sliding bolt. We never thought twice about it. The back door was an interior door. Anyone breaking in would have to break down the outside door (with it's measly sliding bolt, too); and that would be loud. Both doors were hanging wide open.

We thought all of our pitiful possessions were gone, but mom started finding things they missed. They had dropped one of the speaker covers on the stairs. They missed the alarm clock. It had gotten unplugged when our cowardly dog hid under mom's bed. Best of all, they had entirely skipped the stereo in my sister's room. It was in a dark corner with some clothes on top of it.

I cannot tell you how much it lifts your spirit to realize you have something left. That stereo was all we had for 2 years. We couldn't afford a new TV, so we listened to music instead. My friends were astounded when they came over and realized we had no TV. We spent a lot of time sitting on the porch talking.

Mom swiped some paper from work, and my sister and I would listen to the radio and draw pictures. The idea was to make a little logo for whatever song was on at the time. The image must be finished before the song ended. Some examples:
a pair of tickets with dice on them = "Two Tickets to Paradise"
A crescent moon and a guy with shades = "I Wear My Sunglasses At Night"

We always tried to out do each other for creativity, and would plague mom to judge the pictures when she got home.
I think getting our TV stolen was one of the better things that happened to me.