Oh.  Imagine my surprise when I found out that today marks the anniversary of Woolworth’s.  Yes… on February 22, 1879, Frank Winfield Woolworth opened a five-cent store in Utica, N.Y.

Frank Woolworth attended a business college for two terms in NY.  He got all smartened up while he was there. Then….in 1873 he worked as a stock boy in a general store. A smart and business-wise stock boy.  It was there that he got the idea for a 5 cent store. That old general store had a table with items for just 5 cents that always sold what was on it.

He borrowed $300 and opened a five-cent store in Utica, NY, on February 22, 1879, as I mentioned earlier. But that dang store failed within weeks.  He was not dissuaded.  If at first you don’t succeed… try, try, again.  So.  His second store was in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, and it opened in April 1879. He expanded the concept to include merchandise priced at ten cents.

That old Frank was really thinking outside the box.  And it worked.  The guy got stinking rich.

I used to love to go to Woolworth’s.  They had a lunch counter.  The food was SO good there.  Cheeseburgers.  Grilled Cheese Sandwiches.  Cherry Cokes.  What a treat.

But Woolworth’s holds a dark and sordid secret of mine.  It was where my life of crime started.  And ended.  Yes.  It was back in 1972 or so.  My best friend… whom I will call Joanie…  convinced me that we shoplifting was fun and adventurous.  Heck… her older sister Becky did it all the time.  So off we went.  We rode our bikes over to the Woolworth store by Liberal’s Grocery Store.  We parked out front.

Joanie gave me very clear instructions.  “Go in.  Act like you are looking around.  Pick up something, and stick in down the front of your pants… or tuck it down in to your sock.  Make sure no one is looking.  No one.  Then leave the store, get on your bike and ride like hell to the alley behind our street.”

Got it.  Simple enough.  I’m good to go.

And in we went.

Now I was pretty slick.  I looked at the goldfish. Then the hamsters.  I checked the price on the hand towels.  And even strolled past the lunch counter.   Then, I made my way down the toy aisle.

Here is where I made my first big mistake.  The stolen item selection.  I had given it no thought really.  I mean… what did I want to take.  Hmmmm.  What about a pink rubber ball.  I loved those things.  So I grabbed it from the shelf.  It was slightly larger than a baseball.  I stuffed down into my right sock.  I think that’s what Joanie told me to do.  Oh no! Was anyone watching?  I forgot to look around.  Okay…. this thing is in my sock.  Just get out of the store.

Now first… let me tell you.  This was the dead of summer.  It was hot outside.  I had on shorts.  With knee high tube socks.  And now….I was in a full sprint out of the Woolworth’s store….  with a large round object protruding from my tube sock.

I flung open the front doors and out I went.  There was my bike.  No Joanie.  Her bike was long gone.  Now I am on my tenth mistake by this point.  I had locked my bike to the front pole.  I didn’t want anyone to steal the thing…. for crying out loud.  The world was FULL of crooks.

As I fumbled with the lock, I felt a hand on my shoulder.  The store manager had a firm grip on my clavicle.  As I did my best not to pee my pants right then and there…. I swore off a life of crime…. Crossed my heart and hoped to die…….. …. If only Mr. Woolworth-Guy would let me go.  As I recall, he looked a little bit like Frankenstein.  But old Frankenstein Woolworth-Guy did let me go.  No jail term.  He said I was lucky this time.  Do not to come back to his store. Blah. Blah. Blah.

I didn’t do any more shoplifting from that point on.  The fact of it is, I am a terrible criminal.    Crooks, thieves and robbers have to be able to see the whole enchilada.  The big scenario.  All the details.  They really have to think things through to be successful. Like clockwork.

I’m not wired that way.  I run into walls, and get sidetracked.  I bumble.  I stumble.  I lock up my dang getaway bicycle, for crying out loud.  And I’m too nervous… and too worried about even appearing guilty.

Like… when people say… “Do you remember where you were when Kennedy was shot?”  I get all worried.  I don’t really have any kind of an alibi.

Nope.  It is the straight and narrow for me.  Well… definitely not straight… but most certainly, narrow.  Okay.  Not really narrow either.    But.  Not criminal.

Honest.

“Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.” – Martin Luther King Jr.