COMMENTS & CURIOSITIES: Police logs make for vague read

Do you read it? The Police Files. I do. Everyone has their guilty pleasures, some more than others. Actually there are two things I read every morning — the Police Files and the obituaries. Is that morbid?

Maybe. I check the obits to see if anyone my age has crossed over and how it happened. Accidents I don’t mind. Natural causes worry me. But I’m telling you, something strange has happened to the Police Files.

You used to get details, some, not all, but enough to know what went on at this address, or in that neighborhood more or less.

“1996 Geo Metro stolen in the parking lot of the Church of Perpetual Motion,” “Man suffered a broken nose and hairline metacarpal fracture at the Dew Drop Inn,” “Collection of Playboy magazines and two Melmac creamers stolen from residence on Wherever Avenue.” Now? They barely tell you anything, and what they do tell you is so cryptic it’s almost meaningless. I don’t know if it’s new laws or nervous lawyers or what, but crime just isn’t fun any more.

This week’s police reports in this very publication are as good an example as any. “Newport Boulevard: Grand theft was reported in the 2400 block at 7:39 p.m. Tuesday.”

OK, fine. We have the time down to the minute, but can we at least get a hint about what went gonzo? Somebody walks out with a cellphone in their purse, big whoop. But if they got a 60-inch plasma screen with video noise reduction and JPG playback out the door, that I’d like to know about it.

“Bristol Street: A vehicle was reported stolen in the 3300 block at 4:08 p.m. Tuesday.”

Wow. That’ll make your heart pound. Make, model, year anything? A 2004 Chevrolet Aveo, we don’t need a lot of detail. But a Maybach 12-cylinder, that I want to know about.

“Yorkshire Street: Battery was reported in the 500 block at 1:47 p.m. Tuesday.”

First of all, I assume this was a brawl and not a Die Hard All-Weather that someone left in the street. Assuming it is the poke-you-in-the-snoot kind of battery, that still leaves us with a huge range. If someone shoves someone and says I don’t care how many plums my tree is dropping your yard, I’m still not trimming it, and what about your annoying little dog that yaps until midnight — just the broad strokes are fine. But if a woman is beating her husband like a bongo with his 60-degree wedge and screaming things that cannot be printed here, we need all the detail possible, thank you.

“Morning Canyon Road: Illegal peddling was reported in the 300 block at 6:08 p.m. Tuesday.”

Again, illegal peddling of snow cones, one thing; illegal peddling of faux Louis Vuitton bags from Indonesia is another, but, sadly, we have no idea.

Some items can be charming though: “Harbor Boulevard: Defrauding the innkeeper was reported in the 2300 block at 6:58 p.m. Monday.”

Really? Defrauding the innkeeper? Did I miss something or is there a time warp on Harbor Boulevard? Do you go to debtors’ prison when you defraud the innkeeper or do they lash you to a streetlight and flog you on the spot? Not only is Harbor Boulevard busy, but it raises the vagueness bar to a new level.

“Harbor Boulevard: Suspicious circumstances were reported in the 2600 block at 10:59 a.m. Tuesday.”

For heaven’s sake, that’s a police-log entry? I can find suspicious circumstances in my vegetable drawer, but I don’t call 911 about it.

“Yes, it’s on the bottom, and I think it’s a cucumber, but I’m not sure. I don’t want to touch it. It’s mushy. Can you send someone right away?”

And finally, the bell ringer: “Park Newport Drive: Urgent trouble was reported in the 1800 block at 11:58 p.m. Tuesday.”

Thank God they called that in. Now if we can just find out if it’s a man in a leather mask walking down the street with an ax or a cat who fell into a storm drain, we’ll be good to go.

“Hello? Yes, I just turned onto Park Newport from San Joaquin Hills Road, and there’s trouble. No, I can’t tell what exactly, but it is definitely urgent. Please hurry.”

So that’s it then. Everything you need to know about cucumbers, urgent trouble and defrauding the innkeeper. At the end of the day, it’s a matter of principle. If people go to all the trouble of committing crimes, are a few details so much to ask?