Nobody Steals Bubble Gum
My first real crime was committed in the small town of Naples, Florida. I was about eight. Every day, the highlight of my little nobody life, was getting off the school bus and going into the roadside gas station to use my small dime allowance to buy myself some candy before the half mile walk home. Of course, my older brother Gary (who was ten) walked with me..and his love was...comic books.
As I remember, it was a Friday, and I had been saving my dime all week for sweet tarts and Bazooka Bubble Gum. But Gary, didn't have enough money for the treasure that he saw before him...the latest Superman Comic book...just out that day. "Hey, I need your dime...just today. I'll pay you back, I don't have enough money for my book." he said. Right...pay me back....sure, that will never happen, not in a trillion years. Older brothers know the con of the little sister, and I was a sucker.
"Okay."
So, there I was....salivating at the gum. Feeling sorry for how unfair life was. I loved my brother and couldn't refuse him. He wanted that comic book so badly, and I wanted the sweet taste of sugar. Well,...I'll just take ONE piece of double bubble gum...the guy will never miss it....so I did.
I became the youngest thief in the universe.
It was the best tasting piece of gum I ever had. But, the guilt from it was so unbearable that the next week, I gave my dime allowance to the man behind the counter. (The gum was a penny) He never said a word, he just took it. Actually, he had probably heard the whole thing...and felt sorry for me.
But...THOU SHALL NOT STEAL...was as much a part of my little soul as THOU SHALL GIVE YOUR BROTHER YOUR ONLY DIME..because he has convinced you that if he doesn't buy that Superman Comic book his life will be over....and therefore it was too much for my little mind to comprehend or rationalized. That was the last time I ever stole anything.
Now, if stealing one tiny piece of gum was so tremendous a burden on me...can you imagine how it feels to witness the trillions of dollars stolen from one group of people and given to another group of people, every day?
Is it a miracle I'm still breathing?
Not only money, but whole lives being destroyed by greed, and corruption...and yes..as you know very well...it drives me crazy.
I know, life isn't fair. My brother knew I'd give him the dime...so he took it. He was always more successful than me when it came to making money. "I put myself first." he would tell me." Always look out for number one." And he did. If that meant taking unfairly from the sucker in front of you...so be it.
So, now, with an upcoming birthday....I ask myself: Should I be proud of living an almost flawless life of never having stole anything from anyone? Or should I be angry for not coming into the bandwagon of "looking out for number one" and join the millions of others on the planet who steal...and feel no guilt whatsoever...saying it's man's nature?
Do I like to torture myself with these question? Did Mary Queen of Scots like the Tower of London?
The way I look at it...Moses knew it was man's nature to steal. And if he was going to get them people across that desert...stealing had to be made a big no-no. I'm not sure if God actually wrote those sins on a tablet, besides...didn't he walk down the mountains and break them?What did he do? Go back up the mountain and ask god for a carbon copy? But they were the best laws ever written... At least that's my Nobody's Opinion.
My ancestors were so honest, to this day there is no memorial honoring them in Washington D.C.. What else explains it? They didn't call him honest John for nothing. And if honestly can be in your genes, then I'm doomed as my poor mother.
My brother on the other hand, got his genes from my polish grandmother, who my mother said, was a well known nymph and loved taking strange men into her home, which my grandfather allowed. As you can guess, my brother has had a very wonderful life, that everyone around envies, including me.
Anyway...either way you want to look at it. I knew when I was eight, that what I did was really bad. And I still feel bad about it. There was no excuse but self pity. I don't care if I was eight---I should not have stolen that one piece of bubble gum. My only perfection, if I have any, is I doubt seriously, if there is any other person on the planet, that find so much about themselves that they can complain about.
So...hail Mary...pray for my poor nobody soul, and dear God, please remind my brother that Elvis is dead.