STEVE SMITH -- What’s Up

The call came at midday about seven years ago, just as I was going to

lunch.

“I’m in trouble,” said my wife, Cay, and I could tell from the sound of

her voice that she meant it. I had never heard that tone and have not

heard it since.

She went on to tell me that she had just been stopped by the Huntington

Beach Police Department because the registration on our van had expired.

The van, a 17-year-old clunker which had been given to us by our good

friend, Melo Amoroso, was of dubious pedigree. We took the van with much

gratitude because we were desperate for a second vehicle and it was no

surprise that the registration was not in order. But it seems that the

registration was not the real problem.

“I’m in jail,” said Cay. “The police told me that the van had been in a

hit-and-run accident and I’m their chief suspect because I said the van

was mine.”

My heart sank. I knew that she hadn’t been involved in a hit-and-run, but

all I could think of was bail bondsmen, courts, lawyers and my wife

sitting in jail with the rest of the people on the “Group W” bench. I had

to get her out, so I gathered up my things and started out of my office.

On my way through the door, the phone rang again. It was Cay, but this

time she didn’t sound scared. She was laughing.

That was the best April Fools’ joke that was ever played on me. There

were, however, a couple of very good runners-up.

Exactly one year before the hit-and-run call, Cay phoned to tell me that

my mother had just called to say that their water heater had broken and

she and my dad needed a place to stay. Cay told me that she invited them

over for a few days.

“My mother in our house for a few days?” I said. “I don’t think so! I’ll

put them up in a hotel.”

There was, of course, no phone call from my mom and no broken water

heater.

And a year before the water heater call, I was the victim of another gag

by my former boss, Nils-Eric Svensson of Corona del Mar. I arrived to

work one April 1 to find a note from Nils-Eric that a “Warner Brown” had

called expressing interest in buying some of our products. Brown, an

employee at NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory in Pasadena, proved

difficult to find.

“I have a W. Brown.” said the operator.

“OK, I’ll try him,” I replied.

I left a message for this W. Brown, who was not employed in a department

at JPL that would seem to fit the category of places in need of our

particular products. But duty called and for the next two hours, I

struggled with the huge voice mail system at JPL, both on- and off-site.

It was then that I noticed Nils-Eric, seated about 10 feet away from me,

smiling and biting his lower lip so hard I thought it was going to bleed.

Warner Brown. JPL. April 1. Sometimes, you have to hit me with a stick.

OK, so I’m a sucker for a good April Fools’ story. This column was

supposed to be a fake story of how the Newport Dunes resort folks had

given up their quest for a hotel and opted instead to put a Wal-Mart on

the land. I was going to ask Scott Bell, Newport Beach resident and the

developer of Harbor Center, to provide some quotes and also get Costa

Mesa mayor Gary Monahan to give me a “couldn’t have happened to a better

town” quote.

But when I ran the idea before the Daily Pilot muckety-mucks, it was

quashed.

“You’ll have every real estate agent in Newport Beach calling you,” said

Bill Lobdell, the editor of Times Community News.

He was right. So even though the thought of a Wal-Mart in Newport is

absurd and even though today’s paper is dated April 1, there is always

the risk that one person may not get the joke.

So I started thinking. Are we taking ourselves a little too seriously

these days? It seems to me that with more than ever to be thankful for,

we’re losing our sense of humor -- our ability to laugh at ourselves.

Oh yes, we have weighty issues such as school bonds and airports to

consider, but it’s the in-between times that concern me. In between all

that, we should be celebrating our lives and having a few laughs.

Today is the Halloween of practical jokes. In the same way that a man can

dress up as Tinkerbell on Oct. 31 and not get a second glance, today is

the day you can tell someone that you just heard that Newport Beach has

agreed to annex with Irvine, scare someone and then get a few laughs a

couple minutes later.

But just to be on the safe side, don’t use that joke with anyone in real

estate.

* STEVE SMITH is a Costa Mesa resident and freelance writer. He can be

reached via e-mail at o7 dailypilot@latimes.comf7 , or call our Readers

Hotline at (949) 642-6086.