Like too many Americans, I drive to work by myself. One weekday morning in the spring of 1997, I walked up to my trusty Honda Civic to find my remote didn't elicit its familiar chirp when I pressed the button. Puzzled, I looked under the hood to check my alarm siren, only to find that the wiring had been pulled out. I looked around nervously, waiting for some evildoer to jump out with a crowbar.

That afternoon, I took the car to Car Toys, which installed my stereo and alarm, and told them I thought somebody had been fiddling with my system. They looked at me with measured skepticism and proceeded to slip the wires back in the sheath and shut the hood. Perhaps they figured I was an idiot do-it-yourself mechanic and made up the story to get them to fix my own mistake.

I decided that I was overly paranoid and filed the occurrence away in my mental circular recycling bin. Still, I couldn't help but be more alert when parking or approaching my car. I didn't have to wait long. Two mornings later, I went out to my car, and this time the hood was popped, though nothing seemed to be missing or damaged.

I couldn't figure out if I was crazy or not. I'd just had an expensive custom stereo installed by a friend up in Seattle the previous weekend, so the timing was strange to say the least. Why would anyone want a Civic anyway? While I had nice rims and tires, the car was generally a sleeper. No phat graphics, spinners, hydraulics or crushed velvet interior. Maybe I'd inadvertently popped the hood the night before, and maybe my buddy had pulled out the alarm wire on accident while installing the stereo.

I didn't know what to do. I'd installed a top-of-the-line Alpine alarm with backup siren and battery, plus wheel locks, months earlier. And what car is secure without the trusty Club Lock®? All of this was in place on my car, yet someone seemed to be patiently probing my system, or getting repeatedly interrupted while in the process of stealing it.

I'd never had anything stolen from me in my life and didn't want to join that exclusive club of grand theft auto victims. For the next few nights, I carefully removed my stereo faceplate and put the Club Lock on my steering wheel. I keep my cars notoriously tidy and clutter free, so there was nothing to see or steal inside the car, save for the CDs hidden in my trunk changer. I made sure not to change my habits.

After a week of worry and compulsive car-security-related behavior, I headed out for a beer with a friend. As we walked to the local bar, we passed my car, and I remember saying to the friend, "You know, guys always say they love their cars, and I do like my car, but I don't LOVE it. If it were to get stolen, I wouldn't freak out about it." I guess I was already moving into the acceptance stage, just to hedge my bets.

The next morning, Saturday, the phone rang at 7:45. It was the Portland police informing me that my car was up on blocks in Tigard, Oregon. I hitched a ride to my car to find it had been stripped of wheels, tires, stereo (except the stereo deck, due to the faceplate being at home). Even the alarm was gone, which had me stupefied. They'd stolen it sometime early in the morning and methodically stripped out all stereo-related components, including miles of speaker wires.

I was puzzled how they'd got past my alarm (I suspected they were professional installers at one time) and the wheel locks (they didn't appear to have found my hidden key, or they took the time to put it back). Most of all, I was surprised that the Club Lock didn't seem to be a deterrent. Perhaps they had their eyes on my car and nothing, not even a piece of forged metal, was going to stop them.

As it happens, I hadn't locked the Club Lock that night, which might seem like a bad thing. It actually saved me money in the end as it kept them from having to saw through my steering wheel. Better yet, it appeared to the dealership repairing my car that the thieves had actually used the Club Lock to break my steering column. So not only did the Club Lock NOT protect my car, it actually helped them steal it. At least they were kind enough to leave it behind.

I had the dealership replace the stock wheels and stereo so it was no longer a target to thieves. Since then, I've not spent a dime on custom stereos, alarms or other fun features for my car. It's just not worth the neurosis and inconvenience. By the way, if you stole my Civic and are reading this, I've got a Club Lock I can sell you for cheap.