I’m certainly willing to help in any way I can. A lot of us just want to reach out and say “we’re here for you.”

Members of the clergy, psychologists, parole officers, hostage negotiators, anger management counselors, cab drivers, bartenders, columnists — all could bring their particular people skills to bear on this vital mission of peace.

I’m speaking, of course, of the pressing need for an intervention at WPRO. Time could be running short.

News of hostilities at the Salty Brine Broadcast Center on the Wampanoag Trail have left a troubling unease in talk show nation. There is, it seems, a real fear that if cooler heads don’t prevail we could be seeing far worse than the alleged “assault by staple” that recently forced simmering territorial tensions into the open.

There are people who look to WPRO as others look to bowling or paint ball or macramé. It is their release, their way of letting out what can’t be held in.

In fact, WPRO and its hard-hitting roster of talk show hosts have become an emotional recycling bin for hundreds of people who haul their old, beat-up feelings to the radio for guilt-free disposal.

And to learn that this vital receptacle of so much psychic refuse is beset by an internal turf battle is unsettling. Just think about showing up at your psychiatrist’s office to find a “Gone Fishin’ ” sign on the door. There’s that same feeling here of having a vital emotional anchor suddenly put in jeopardy.

Apparently, it all started with the words “Get your own octogenarian ex-governor flyboy and stop poaching mine.” Or something like that.

According to a story in the Wednesday Journal by Mike Stanton, the always colorful and unpredictable ex-governor Bruce Sundlun showed up at WPRO last week for a chat with John DePetro, the morning talk host. Sundlun’s recent adventures in the air and on the ground were among the topics.

Then, the line was crossed. Just as one stripper would never poach another stripper’s lap dance client, one talk show host would never poach another talk show host’s on-air guest. There’s nothing written down. It’s just part of the stripper code and part of the talker code.

And, according to Stanton’s story, DePetro considered the line crossed and the code violated when Ron St. Pierre and Buddy Cianci invited Sundlun to stick around for their show, which follows DePetro’s.

DePetro expressed his displeasure in a note to management. The note came flying back, all balled up with a metal staple in it, during a confrontation between DePetro and St. Pierre. DePetro was treated for a corneal abrasion. He has hired a lawyer.

There is, it seems, some dysfunction in the WPRO family. Bad feelings move in assorted directions among DePetro, St. Pierre, Cianci and afternoon talk host Dan Yorke.

After providing on-air therapy for dozens of people for so long, it seems the time has come for those at the microphone to consider some therapy of their own.

So we’ll meet in the WPRO parking lot and decide how best to use our assorted skills and experience to help heal the wounds — seen and unseen — that talk radio has sustained.

We’ll talk to the talkers, try to impress on them how they have to put their differences aside for the greater good — for the continued emotional nourishment of all those listeners in cars and offices, backyards and basements.

And, as always, our message will be a simple one:

“Talk is cheap, but it sure beats a poke in the eye.”

bkerr@projo.com