My first thoughts today and for the past week have been with those in the throes of the atrocious Los Angeles wildfires.

Though I have no personal connection there, I know some of my friends here do, and that’s personal enough. The firefighters, some from Oregon, and the residents are daily in my prayers — not just for safety, but to be given joyful moments within the devastation.

I shouldn’t complain about the fog, but I do. I’ve learned when the midday bluesies come slinking through the blanket of doom, the things to do are to stop staring out the window trying to make something real out of shadowy, abstract shapes, trade PJs for jeans and sweater, and frolic among fellow sufferers.

The plan was to mingle with our Eagle Point officers in blue over a hot beverage at the cozy and welcoming Main Street Coffee House in Eagle Point — aka Coffee with a Cop.

I had to hoist my girth off the sofa and work at making something of my abstract shape. I didn’t know what to expect. Do they have a sign-up sheet like with a jam session, or is it more like speed dating with 10 minutes per cop? Was I expected to buy them a cup of coffee and a donut? You know, questions like that. But the unknown is what usually propels me forward. Was I getting soft?

As I entered the building and got the lay of the land, I noticed there was a sweet old-timey band playing to my right that I didn’t expect but would get back to later, a few people with coffee and on laptops, and three officers in the rear — poised for an earful.

I ordered a cuppa’ hot green tea with honey and walked up to introduce myself to Eagle Point Police Officer Hangaard, a young man who’d been serving Eagle Point for about four years.

After thanking him for his much-appreciated service to our community, I tackled the gist of my purpose. I told him that cars drive way too fast on my street. Maniacs love that straightaway. I’m sure this was a request Officer Hangaard had never heard before in his life, but I wanted to bring it to the attention of the entire force. He was kind and attentive and shared how his team of officers encourage one another in their world of confronting our troubles.

I asked about my doing a ride-along sometime for a future story. He said it was fine as long as I had no warrants.

I also chatted up the head honcho. Chief Hamilton was most helpful and had a three-fold plan of attack to share. Leadfeet, you’re rip-roaring ways are fast coming to a close.

“I applied for a grant with the state,” the chief shared, “and it’s an equipment grant. What I applied for is a laser speed device so we can measure speed — hand-held radar. We just upgraded all of our cars with radar. Also, I submitted for a radar reader trailer so we’ll be able to move that around the city.”

I felt safer by the minute.

“The other device that I ordered up is an anonymous speed data collector. It looks like a utility box. We can put it anywhere. It will collect data and tell us when the speeders are there,” Hamilton added.

He gave me far more good info than I have room for, but I came away encouraged.

Before leaving, I listened to the band, which apparently plays there a couple times a month as well as at the Butte Creek Mill on occasion. I liked them. I asked one member their band name and he said, well, they didn’t have one but were toying around with “Heavy Leather,” to which I gave hearty approval.

I was ready to leave after telling their singer and guitar player, Carol Jensen, she had a lovely voice, but they coaxed me to stay for her rendition of “Summertime.” It’s a favorite of mine, and she did it proud. The other band members are Darrell Troxel on the electric guitar, Danny Clark on acoustic guitar and David Spicer on bass. Just musicians getting together on a foggy day.

I didn’t even feel the cold when I came out, but it can leave anytime now.