Thank you MR. Cop. Part Deux!

Holy wow, you guys out there are ready to knock some teeth out. I can't believe the response I've gotten from so many people. Thanks for all of your offers of bikes, tools, fists and revenge.
I'll make a post on the side bar with the bike information. The craigslist.org post I made was pretty cathartic, and got some good responses from other kindhearted folk.
Part 2: The investigation.....
Philly cops. I don't know how I would feel if I had to clock into the mean streets of Philadelphia. Undermanned, disrespected and targeted. Can I really blame them for spending 50% of their time in my house commenting on how great it's going to be when done?
"Wow this is really big!" "It's gonna look great, holy crap that's a big backyard!"
me "Um yeah, I'm real fortunate."
"Sorry we can't really get any fingerprints, since it's so dusty in here."
me "oh, i should have vacuumed."
Actually I was surprised they even sent out a finger printer. I walked the first officer through the house, then the detective showed up, smoking a cigarette, and chewing gum at the same time. Trying to give a full layout of the house and explain why the back window was unlocked, made me feel like I was the guilty party. We went out to talk to my neighbor, who had seen the thieves pull their truck up on the sidewalk. As Leon was describing what he saw I kept looking a the detective, trying to read how he was processing this information. Every time I looked at him, was smoking his cigarette pinched between thumb and index, head cocked back. I imagine a detective to be sponge, someone who is soaking and computing every minutia of detail. I was looking to him for an eureka moment. An instant when it all came together.
As I tried to figure out what he was thinking I kept feeling like we were sitting at a table working on two different puzzles, with the pieces mixed into one pile.
The detective left after telling me the crime labs guy would show up later to take fingerprints. That left one officer sitting in her car on the front sidewalk, dozing off with the heat on.
As I said above, the finger printer walked in with his plastic bag of crime scene investigative tools. We walked through the house, and at every possible place the thieves might left a print he discarded the possibility due to the dust.
After he left all I had was a huge feeling of being alone and vulnerable. It was cold, my house seemed like a big block of swiss cheese, ready to be invaded by any mouse in the neighborhood, and I still had new heaters and new copper all over the place.
Anyone who has ever been robbed must know this feeling of insecurity and paranoia.
More to come...
In the meantime, I take my stuff everywhere. Nothing stays at home. Saturday Charlie and I put in a good 5.5hr cross ride. I've decided to keep the knobbies on for awhile.
Bat Cave

How'd you get in Here?

Last Monday I stepped out of the house at 9:48am. I'm that sure about it because I was expecting my plumber to show soon after 10, but I needed to run to the hardware store for a floodlight bulb. No problem I said to myself.
Went to Stanly's hardware, then stopped for a coffee to go at the Set Table. Back at 10:30.
My front door has two locks. I always bolt the top bolt-lock if I'm going anywhere, and the bottom knob-lock usually gets the key too. When I got back I noticed that only the handle was locked. That didn't seem right, but I gave myself the benefit of the mistake and walked back to the kitchen to get some maple syrup for the coffee.
I noticed on the kitchen floor two or three pieces of mud and a leaf from the tread of a shoe. If you saw the house right now you might have wondered how I could distinguish one piece of dirt from another, but these seemed out of place. I looked at my soles, recognized I had been digging sewer pipe out in the basement and assumed it was from me.
Walking up to the cluttered kitchen counter I set my coffee down then looked right to see my kitchen window open.
Panic!
I knew that wasn't right. It's 30 degrees outside and I never open that window. First reaction was to run to the front room to see if my new mountain bike was there. I had brought it home from the shop the night before, freshly polished, tuned and ready to ride.
Gone!
A quick look around revealed blank holes where my compressor, nail gun and other power tools had been. I ran upstairs to my bed room to find a big hole in the plastic door, and inside was one less Laptop, camera and printer. Still left down stairs was my cross bike with the new PowerTap wheel in it. Unlocked.
Ran to the back yard, realized they took to much stuff to go out the back. Went to the front, asked the guys working on the street if they saw anything. "nope" with heads shaking. Called 911.
Talked to neighbor, Leon. He says he saw a white work truck pull up onto the curb 5 min after I left, but assumed them to be some of the people working on my house. His sone even said hi to one of the guys. Their descriptions didn't match any of my workers. So I waited for the police.
tbc

If you missed it, you don't know.

This past week following the Auction has seen so little spare time. People visiting, contractors working on the house, me me me, always me. Why don't I have enough time. There is never enough time. Time is money. Time doesn't grow on trees. Time machine in overdrive. Time out, Dave Brubeck, (is 91), Time in. "Making time"= something vaguely sexual.
Take the time to smell. (It's winter, there are no roses.) You really do have to take it. Be aggressive. Demand it, be an unhappy customer at the time shop. Bang your fist, just once and say "by golly! This is mine". Polly wolly wanna time cracker?
Found time on my way home the other day. Put it in my pocket but spent it on trinkets. 5 minutes here 15 there. I'm selfish with time. Don't have enough to share. Shared time is the best way to use time. Cause then it's like double time. I could go on.
A situation.
It's important to know what you want. Ever see a thing (noun) that you wanted? But would never really be able to take full advantage of all it had to offer, if you had it. Still it is there and you convince yourself of all the things you'll do with it, and the glorious days you'll spend appreciating it while using it. (noun) Garage sales have ton's of these things. It's there, it's easy to fit in the hatchback, no challenge is forthcoming to stop you. As the sun fades and home draws into sight the sudden realization that the super subject (noun) of this metaphor, has no business in your car or life or home. Essentially you've robbed said subject of it's utility since it will sit underused and under appreciated in a corner of the house, while someone out there would have built an empire around it. Take caution. Be reckless. With intent.

Auction was great. Everyone who made the time to come out and listen to me do my best auctioneer voice thanks. I was visibly drained at the end. Basically three hours of keeping the 1dolla,1dolla,1dolla, rolling off the tongue. We had a group of about 30 people, eating (par diner food) and drinking.
Of course the Stans Wheelset went for the highest. But another couple of surprise additions to the table were, some t-shirts from
www.rideyourbicycle.com
a case or organic beer from Peak Organics.
A couple of goodies from Valentine Baby. Super ladies, workout clothes. See picture above.

I liked it. The money raised will go to my winter and early race schedules. Oh and a dental visit I've been putting off.
Plus 10% ($150) will be going to Neighborhood Bike Works.

Thanks to everyone.
I'll let the upcoming schedule out soon.

This is a classic, Spiritualized "ladies and gentlemen we are floating in space"
look it up