By Pat Cashman

A couple of years ago, I was emceeing a big medical conference in Spokane. It’s not necessarily important to mention Spokane, but I can’t resist name-dropping.

During a morning breakfast in a fancy hotel, attendees shoveled down scrambled eggs, bacon and other grease-enriched foods. Did I mention this was a medical conference?

As they were finishing their meal, I came to the stage to introduce a keynote speaker. After reading the fellow’s brief biography, I brought him to the stage. The audience offered a smattering of applause. (A ‘smattering’ is slightly more than no applause at all, but far less than thunderous.)

The fellow began his remarks: “My friends, I am going to speak to you today about something that is rarely discussed in our current society. I am going to talk to you about
integrity, truthfulness and honesty.”
And so he did. For a mind (and butt) numbing hour and half.

I watched the audience start to nod off early on---something noteworthy in mid-morning.
I saw one guy assume a position facedown in his eggs.
There was the sound of light snoring coming from elsewhere in the room.
People began texting---even those who didn’t have a phone.

I knew that when the tedious keynote speaker finally finished his painfully dull remarks, it would be incumbent on me to make some sort of comment. The ennui-induced audience deserved as much.
So while the fellow continued to prattle on, I ducked into the hotel kitchen and started loading silverware deep into my suit coat sleeves---forks, spoons, and butter knives. The works. Then I re-entered the main room where the speech was still going on and waited.

Finally the keynote speaker said those magic words: “And in conclusion.” The speech ended with an even tinier smattering of applause than before.

I stepped onto the now empty stage and said, “What a refreshing topic! Honesty and integrity. It’s something I always tried to teach my kids---and as adults, we need to set an example.”

About then I lowered my arms so that a cavalcade of silverware began tumbling out of my sleeves, clattering noisily onto the stage. I feigned shock and embarrassment, finally muttering, “How did THAT get in there?”

The bit was a big hit and seemed to awaken most of the audience---except for a handful who seemed uncertain that it really WAS a bit, and thought I might actually be a thief.

I thought the silverware shtick was so goofy, that no one would take it seriously. But then I remembered that one of the common denominators of a lot of thieves is that they’re not very smart.
In Kitsap County a few years ago, a group of thieves uploaded video of their stealing onto You Tube---along with the location. It didn’t take the smartest cops to find and arrest them.

I saw another story of a guy who was arrested for stealing a pair of tan-colored hiking boots---size 10 1/2---from a shoe store. He vehemently denied the accusation. Then, when he went to trial three months later, the judge noticed that the guy came to court wearing a pair of tan-colored hiking boots---size 10 1/2. Oopsy.

And one of my favorite dumb thief stories is about a guy (notice it’s mostly guys?) who tried to hold up a bank using his index finger and hand as if it were a gun. Smarter thieves tuck their hand into their coat pocket to make the gun threat look plausible. But not that guy. He just thrust out his bare finger and hand. How stupid. He should have worn a glove.

He’s in the hoosegow now.

But it must have been a slow day at the Seattle Times last week. They ran a story about a robber in Seattle who was arrested for stealing a maple bar out of doughnut shop.
Shocking. But an important lesson for kids.

Because it can start with stealing a single doughnut hole.
Next, it’s an old-fashioned---or a jelly-filled. Then bigger game like a maple bar.
Maybe you start to get even more daring and move on to swiping cinnamon twists, crème-filled---and even crullers.

You move to France and start stealing croissants.

Or hop over to Copenhagen and shoplift Danishes.

And eventually it’s straight down the slippery slope to hotel silverware.

pat@patcashman.com
Also can be seen on TV’s “the [206]”---and on a weekly on-line show Peculiarpodcast.com