Paranoia Personified

It was early evening and she was home alone. A typical, idyllic day on the ranch. At least until she came out of the bedroom and saw a stranger in her kitchen. The animal took over as she cried out, “What the f**k are you doing in my house?” He ran up the stairs with her in pursuit. They met on the landing; the intruder had a blanket over his head. She snatched it away to get a look at him as he pushed her down. He left by the front door and jumped into his pickup truck which had been backed up to the door and had the tailgate down. She was at his heels as he sped up the driveway.

“She” is my wife and “he” is now in jail thanks to modern technology. More of that later. As some of you may know, we reside on a forty acre parcel in a rural area of Northern California. Eleven other similar parcels comprise our neighborhood and a gate exists at the front of our road to keep folks from exploring our properties and the river that winds through them. The gate suffered fatal injuries in a collision several months ago and its absence may have well contributed to my wife’s event. But then again, access to entry codes in a small town is easily obtained.

Regardless, our seeming island of tranquility amidst the madness of 21st century humanity had been invaded. I was on my way to work when the deed went down and promptly turned around for home when my wife called. By the time I got back to our house, the local Sheriff’s deputies were ons scene doing what they do: dusting for prints, taking pictures, and recording information. I got busy with the requisite cancellation of credit cards and such. In addition to my wife’s purse/wallet, the robber got her new iPhone that had been activated mere hours before and our pistol. (The top drawer of the nightstand may not be the best place for your gun, by the way.)

It struck me suddenly that an accompanying feature of the phone was Mobile Me. This allows the wireless syncing of data and it included a “Find My iPhone” option. Lo and behold, after a push of a button and a few moments to allow for refinement, a bulls-eye appeared over a home in our nearby town. The deputy on scene quickly relayed the information and soon thereafter my wife was looking at a photo array of possible perpetrators. She selected the photo corresponding to the suspect residing in the house displayed on my monitor and the search warrant was prepared.

The Sheriffs elected to wait until morning to serve the warrant, but the suspect thwarted their attempt and, instead, led them on a high speed chase through the countryside, throwing items out his window all the while. I came to know this by once again asking my computer to find my iPhone. It was now somewhere in the middle of nowhere. I called the detective who told me of the chase and he was now attempting to locate the phone on the side of the road. Once again, I led him to the proper spot while looking at a satellite image on my monitor. “Go to the next big tree on your left” was the gist of my directions since their were no structures in the vicinity. Once he got close, I selected yet another option which sent a signal to the phone and it began to chirp. The cops heard it, found it, and also found our pistol nearby.

The suspect now resides within the walls of our county jail and has been linked to several other robberies/burglaries in the area. Whether this goes to trial remains to be seen, but no one can claim a better result from a decidedly undesirable event. End of story? No. In fact the true story is just beginning.

When one’s boundaries are violated, an instinct kicks in that spurs actions to prevent a similar event. The boundaries can be personal, regional, or national. The attacks of 9-11 differ from my wife’s only in scope as both of the relative boundaries, drawing a line between bliss and barbarism, were shown to be simple façades. The TSA and other homeland security measures arose from the ashes of the World Trade Center and we were faced with a similar motive of establishing obstacles to future invaders. A “build a moat” mentality takes precedence over all else and, left unchecked, results in major expenditures of time and money.

To what end, though? While my home and family might be more secure with alarm systems, gates, sub-gates, motion detectors, flood lights, guard dogs, and who-knows-what-else we have mortgaged our freedom in exchange. Our open spaces are now defined by lines of defense and the sense of tranquility has been replaced by the dull hum of apprehension. The trade-off seems unpalatable and I am successfully fighting the urge to transform my paradise into a penitentiary.

Yes, we’ve examined our habit patterns and changed some of our routines. I’ve installed some economical security systems and, yes, the gate will soon be replaced at the top of our community’s road. Some have suggested we trade in our three dogs for one with an attitude (and teeth). Not gonna happen, folks. All that would do is guarantee several medical bills or lawsuits from dog bites to protect against an event which will, more than likely, never recur.

It will take some time to return to our sense of normality, but I’m confident that we will come to the point where our lives will go on relatively unchanged. I’m sorry that we cannot necessarily say the same for the country. Air travel is now more of an arduous trek and paranoia seems to be our current national frame of mind. A moat around my house or our nation will solve nothing of substance and we will pay a steep price should we choose to dig.