The Last Call; Skull Highway; “But Baby, I…”

Here we are, coming up on the end of the week and looking for reinforcements after a messy Mercury spill in Martinez, shenanigans on our local campuses, crashes, fires and other calamity all duly recorded on our pages.

During our week, when we weren’t busy decontaminating or dodging street people asking if we were “The TV,” we were buoyed to see civilians sporting jaunty NEWS24/680 caps and others offering us lunch – one would-be host setting off our self-preservation meters by adding: “And I won’t come armed.”

That was nice, and it’s always pleasant to run into a user/reader in the wild, but we demurred and kept our noses pressed firmly to the grindstone.

Among the tales to pass under our watering eyes this week was one concerning a gentleman (there we go with that word again, but, hey…) in his 90s who reached out for help as the inevitabilities of life closed in on him.

Asking for a measured response because he “didn’t want to make a fuss,” this man asked for assistance in the only way available to him, apparently – by dialing 9-1-1. He was calling, he explained, because he was alone, could no longer care for himself and he wanted to discuss his “options” with someone.

First, having reached the rarified heights of the human lifespan with others of this age and knowing full well what that means, we paused a moment and gave this man a newsroom “hat tip,” a measure of respect for someone who had managed to do what so many others cannot or will not do.

We wish you well, sir. We do. May your options be many.

With Sinatra’s “My Way” suddenly our latest background tune we dialed in as others sharing our 24/680-space checked in, many reporting cars rolling off the road or revealing brief looks into their respective psyches.

Some of you, like the person who called to report seeing a human skull on the side of the road while motoring along to an unspecified appointment, gave us pause. We mean, you must have a great set of peepers and have some Louis Leakey in you to make that kind of identification while zipping along at freeway speed. Unsure who was sent out to check on the sighting but we haven’t heard of any resultant CSI or archeological digs so we’re betting “The Skull of Highway 24” was a jettisoned softball or something.

Also blipping on our radar screens this week were countless “Break-Up Dramas” with couples parting ways in very public fashion – sometimes with lighter fluid. We’re sure the whole “setting the ex’s clothes alight”-thing originated in Roman times but it has evolved into a favored expression of break-up contempt and many a good man is losing his treasured Angel’s Flight wardrobe.

Anyone making it in the matrimonial sector? Big anniversaries or that kind of thing? Send us a note, we like to hear about happy people.

Cheerios, 24/680-ians.