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.
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