The Sunday Subsidence

Nothing really changes, right? We stomp and flail and make loud sounds about conditions that concern/bother/scare us and demand that “something be done” and we pin our hopes on that elusive Hollywood ending that all things will be made right – only to have those hopes dashed on the rocks like a wayward fishing boat.

Readers have asked our opinion on more than one of these scenarios after they came to light on a national stage recently and we think you know which stories we’re referring to. Do we have opinions about them? You bet. Do we have answers? We thought we did… but apparently not.

Are we confused? Yes. Just like a lot of you out there. Locally, we’ve learned that more and more people are reacting – not always appropriately – to heightened noise levels in their neighborhoods, and we maintain that that will continue to be a continuing problem without a happy ending. We’ve also learned that all the bad guys with paper license plates on their getaway cars didn’t rush out to register them despite a new law making it imperative for motorists to do so. Bad guys with dirty deeds on their minds like to use the plates because they defeat the nifty new license plate readers in use locally and because they make it hard for us to identify them when they do bad things – half the fun of being a bad guy, right?

Well, Paper Plate People, the police are taking an even harder look at your car now that the law is in place and pursuits are breaking out up and down the corridor. We’re still waiting for an enterprising Thunder Runner to come up with a fancy new set of realistic looking paper plates – printed on one of those high resolution color printers they have now. We shall see. It’s an Arms Race of sorts out on the streets, with both sides looking for an edge.

Equally concerning to some members of the citizenry, in that bastion of suburban splendor we know as Moraga, Calif., USA, is what some around town are rather bleakly calling Chuck the Sink Hole, Part II. Keen-eyed locals have noted an undulation of the ground at Center and Rheem Boulevard – near the site where Chuck first made himself known, swallowing light poles and sidewalk and nearly our Chief of Police so many moons ago.

Chuck was quite the thing around these parts for many months, the townsfolk marking a year of his existence in the center of our fair ville with birthday cake and bunting while our leaders worked out a way to fill him in and get people parking again.

The most recent undulations, easily visible now as The Town has cordoned off the area, have raised concerns about what exactly is sloshing around under the pavement at the very center of town and more than a little talk about what’s going to happen, and who’s going to pay, if Chuck II collapses like a bad soufflé – gobbling up more land, light poles and innocent police chiefs.

This, too, remains to be seen, with the Town mounting an exploratory expedition to see exactly what’s percolating under Rheem and Center. We’ve fielded several calls, tinged by nervous laughter, about the possibilities but – again – we don’t advise holding out for any Hollywood endings on this one, either.

One thing we are certain of, Gentle Readers, is that a home-brewed Latte tastes best on a quiet Sunday morning and that is a Hollywood Ending we are going to make sure happens right now.