Need a good laugh: the official Carmel-by-the-Sea police log

This weekend I was back in the quaint town of Carmel-by-the-Sea where my family has owned a small cottage since I was a child. Carmel is a charming and peaceful place notorious for its Cypress trees, small-town community and constant flow of tourists, where Clint Eastwood was once mayor and still resides in the area, fairy-tale, cottage-like, multi-million-dollar homes that have neither addresses nor mailboxes and the trash collectors still go behind your house to collect your waste bins for you, where narrow, dark and bumpy little roads were paved far before SUVs became common place, tall pine trees grow all around, even in the middle of the roads, giving the area an almost forest-like feel that is scenically situated along white-sand beaches and the ocean, where all the shops close at 5:00 pm and the majority of the residents are senior citizens, providing for very early, dark and quiet nights and a complete absence of crime... it is, thus, rather amusing to browse the pages of police reports in the local weekly newspaper The Carmel Pine Cone. I would presume this is the reason most residents and non-residents take a Pine Cone off the kiosks, and I have loved reading these for as long as I can remember. I don’t know if it’s the mere nature of the ‘events’ listed in the police log, or an intentional tongue-in-cheek tone with which they are recounted ((not sure, do they have a sense of humor in Carmel?)), nonetheless, the police reports are worth checking out.

And if you ever need a good laugh or a quick pick-me-up, you can peruse the police log online
((and other major weekly news headlines!))
www.carmelpinecone.com

“Here’s a look at the significant calls logged last week by the Carmel-by-the-Sea police...”

Carmel-by-the-Sea: Thursday, November 20
Ambulance dispatched to a residence on Serra Avenue for a person who had fallen. The person was unable to get up off the floor but had no complaint. Crew assisted and returned to quarters.

Carmel-by-the-Sea: Thursday, November 20
Resident on First Avenue reported threats she had received from her neighbor nearly four months ago.

Carmel-by-the-Sea: Friday, November 21
Fire engine responded to a possible water leak at Junipero and Fifth. The engine was canceled en route by CPD.

Carmel-by-the-Sea: Saturday, November 22
Subject reported the loss of money while on Carmel Beach. If located, please notify.

Carmel-by-the-Sea: Monday, November 24
Report of a verbal peace disturbance on Fifth Avenue.

Carmel-by-the-Sea: Tuesday, November 25
Fire engine dispatched to Monte Verde and 12th for a residential lockout. Assistance provided.

Carmel area: Wednesday, November 26
Resident in the 100 block of Highway 1 in the Carmel Highlands reported possible trespassing.

Carmel-by-the-Sea: Thanksgiving
Subject on Mission Street stated that someone took his keys out of his vehicle’s ignition while the car was parked, and took his laptop from his locked garage in a separate incident.

Carmel-by-the-Sea: Thanksgiving
Victim reported his wife had struck him in the face with a plate during a verbal argument. The 60-year-old female was taken into custody for spousal battery.

Carmel-by-the-Sea: Thanksgiving
Traffic collision on Scenic Road and Santa Lucia caused injuries. Police, fire and ambulance responded to a report of a vehicle vs. bicycle. The victim, a male in his 50s, was experiencing pain in his right big toe.

...and that’s the weekly crime report from Carmel-by-the-Sea. And no, I didn’t make any of this up...this is word-for-word what is written before me in this week's Pine Cone.

Current

I came across this in an old notebook from a year or two ago and in a way, felt like I was reading it for the first time..it seemed somehow still to touch something within my life, to describe with my words, what I can’t seem to find the way to say.


Perhaps the waves I’ve been making are stronger than I perceive, for I find the subsequent waves are often too rough for me to swim in safely; crash around me, stay a while, sweep me up take me away and when I look behind, I’m no longer able to find my way back, to catch my breath. Powerful waves sweep over me, throw me to shore and seemingly pull back to sea without me, swiftly searching for deeper, more familiar waters with no reflection, smoother currents, quiet strength.

I watched the waves in Carmel last week, a break from falling apart. I stared at an empty beach – the rough wind in my face bringing tears to my eyes too stubborn to blink – I stood up against the wind, letting it do to me as it pleased; I watched the waves. A man played with his dog, running on the sand. And in their company, I was alone. Standing on that cliff; I watched the waves. There’s a sparkling in the traces left by the waves every time they pull away from the shore. Each wave hastened back to the sea, as brief as it was certain to caress the shore again, leaving behind the sand that glittered still, subtly, in the sunlight.

Or perhaps it’s all an illusion. From this view I can’t look away from those traces left behind, though the waves have abandoned, the beauty of a fleeting image, so often tragic. Yet beyond image and illusion, beyond beauty and tragedy, the waves faithfully return.

The sudden breaking of waves on a quiet beach – though they are expected – are beautifully deceptive, dangerous and strong, tempting and invigorating, though often much larger than we’d ever considered.

As this wave had swept me away right before my eyes – and I hadn’t seen it coming. A sudden break knocked the wind out of me, the sand no longer glittered, the sunshine escaped my days. When I reach for it the sand slides through my fingers and refuses to let me hold on. And so I stand, as I do not know, to walk away or toward sparkling traces left here, before me, I stand on this cliff.

I watch the surf, those moments when the sunlight shines just right, the rough aggressive beauty in the waves and the gentle caress, the embrace that follows every storm. And as always, I’m lured into believing, that the ocean goes on forever beyond the horizon and much, much further than the eye can see, subtle twinkle, deep reflection, the illusion that it is always coming back.