JOSEPH N. BELL -- The Bell Curve

In less blessed parts of the United States where it gets excessively

cold in the winter and hot in the summer, a phenomenon takes place that

we used to call “summer sillies.” That just meant that in the doldrums of

the heat and humidity of August, people did strange things ascribed to an

overheated brain. Or, perhaps more accurately, they did normal things

that were seen as mildly loopy by others suffering from the same malady.

It gets hot in Newport-Mesa, but not that hot. Or for that long. So

maybe it’s me, but I picked up on some slightly tilted behavior and

events in our part of the world this August.

I suppose it all started with the chicken. Nothing much surprises me

in my Santa Ana Heights neighborhood where we’re more likely to see a

horse than a Mercedes-Benz. But the peripatetic chicken was a first. We

were told about it in a sign a few blocks from my house that was headed

“Lost Chicken.” What followed was a creative description of this

particular chicken and an earnest plea to return it to the owner if

found.

Now I must admit that I regard chickens pretty much the same way

Ronald Reagan -- or was it Spiro Agnew? -- regarded redwood trees: If

you’ve seen one, you’ve seen ‘em all. But the chicken got me to thinking

about some other local events that seem, well, odd.

Like my column on turning 80 appearing in the Pilot next to the

obituaries, a placement that was reported to me with considerable glee by

several phone callers. Or the self-congratulatory press release from the

Orange County Transportation Authority that led off by listing the

components of a “decade of achievements,” followed by a paragraph that

began: “An OCTA-comissioned poll shows 68% of frequent voters believe

traffic is worse than 10 years ago.”

Then there was the Pilot story quoting Newport Beach Councilman Dennis

O’Neil at some length on his concern about the overuse of public parks.

He compared weddings in city parks with excursion boats and tourist buses

clogging Newport Harbor or local streets, explaining: “There is a line

someplace where you need to make sure that individual groups are not

overusing public areas so that the public can’t use it.” He did add --

thank goodness -- that he has nothing against weddings.

I’ve been working this around in my head for a while, wondering where

and how we can draw lines for the public use of public parks.

Then it hit me that here was a solution to a problem I’ve struggled

with for many years. Every time I hang out at the basketball court at one

of our parks and I’m not invited to play because there always seems to be

a group going at it, I could complain to the city.

This seems to me a clear example of a group abrogating the rights of

an individual citizen. I don’t have anything against weddings, either,

but I can’t say the same for those guys who hog the basketball courts,

even when I bring my own ball. This would make a good test case for the

park rangers O’Neil suggested hiring. I should warn him, though, that

these basketball guys are mostly pretty big.

And how about U.S. Atty. Gen. John Ashcroft coming to Orange County as

a headliner for the Crystal Cathedral? One thing for sure: He was certain

to get a better reception there than he got at the Senate hearings on his

appointment. I’ve never seen an attorney general -- our legal guardian of

the separation of church and state -- interviewed in a church, but I

pretty much went along with the chairman of religious studies at Chapman

University, who told a Los Angeles Times reporter: “His vision of

Christianity is a bit perplexing to me. It could be a good show, but I’m

going to miss it.”

Then there is our congressman, Rep. Christopher Cox, who seems easy to

reach by the local press when he wants to trash Democrats but out to

lunch or traveling somewhere when the issue is the El Toro airport or --

most recently -- a Republican bill (called wonderfully the Recreational

Waters Protection Act) that would allow boaters to dump sewage into the

harbor. I suspect never before has Cox been faced with an issue in which

his party and his normally docile constituents are in such deep

disagreement. It will be fascinating to see how he finesses this one.

Which brings us logically back to the chicken, and that reminds me of

the summer my 10-year-old daughter went to visit a friend and left us in

charge of her pet duck at an Indiana lake cottage. Disaster befell the

duck, and my wife and I spent a frantic day combing nearby farms for a

clone duck. We found one and put it in place before my daughter returned,

but I checked with her this week and she tells me that she knew of the

scam instantly but didn’t want to push the issue because she had no

desire to know what happened to her real duck. So I won’t tell her here,

either.

That recollection sent me back to the chicken sign in the hope of a

happier ending. But the sign was gone, and I guess I’ll never know the

fate of that chicken. I’d be willing to bet, though, that a substitute

chicken would have worked. Especially in August.

* JOSEPH N. BELL is a resident of Santa Ana Heights. His column

appears Thursdays.