Dan Ardell is a retired 67-year-old Republican who's living the good life in Corona del Mar. He's also John McCain's worst nightmare.

We've all seen them. Some have elongated heads. Many have unusual-looking fingers. Some could pass for gorillas. Almost all appear to be over-caffeinated. We're talking about the folks with those hand-held signs that hawk products or tout businesses on our city streets. A common trick of the trade is to twirl the signs to attract attention. Most likely, it's to relieve the incredible boredom the sign-holders must be experiencing. Most of us either ignore them or find them mildly entertaining. The city of Orange, however, is not easily amused. Citing residents' complaints about people trying to sell mattresses, property, haircuts, massages and whatever else -- creating distractions for drivers and inconveniences for pedestrians -- the city council sallied forth months ago to do battle with hand-held signs. On a 4-1 vote, with only Denis Bilodeau dissenting, the council asked its staff to draft ordinance changes to thwart the sign-twirlers. The loyal staff did its duty, sent a proposal to a compliant planning commission and then gave it to the council Tuesday. The city sent code enforcement people to photograph the sign people in the act of being themselves. This was no rush job: the 41-page pdf file laying out the whole thing took someone a lot of time to compile. In the end, council tabled the whole thing, meaning it's probably a dead duck. "I don't want to spend any more time on this," Bilodeau told his colleagues, adding that if someone wants to dress up in a clown suit on the corner of Tustin and Collins to entice him to get a haircut, let him try. Bilodeau thought the whole thing infringed on personal freedoms and might hurt businesses in town. Although the council came to its senses, we wonder how the staff feels with all its hard work going up in smoke. Its seriousness of purpose is reflected in this excerpt from its report: Code enforcement pictures showed "an individual sitting on a stool at the very edge of a curb and within a foot of a private driveway" and no more than 25 feet from a school crossing guard. The man on the stool was advertising a massage business with a 5 foot by 2 foot sign. There was more, the report indicated: "Approximately 30 yards further north is a man holding a similar sized sign and dressed in what appears to be a clown outfit, again standing next to a curb." The potential danger: The crossing guard had to compete with the man on the stool and the clown for drivers' attention. Wait till the words gets out that Orange doesn't care about the safety of school kids. dana.parsons@latimes.com

It's Sunday night, and Dr. Greg Buchert is drained from the weekend. But it's the good kind of drained, in which you've poured yourself into something that matters. The kind of weekend when people in need meet people who want to help.

Ah, the brashness of youth. The sheer audacity of it. Imagine, the notion that a relatively unknown political figure, just a step or two up from the novice ranks, would dare take on a much more seasoned and politically connected officeholder.

Former Texas Sen. Phil Gramm said last week that we've become a nation of whiners. Speaking for myself, he's right. But before he disses an entire nation, would he prefer that we become a nation of mooners instead?

How many articles have you read lately on Zimbabwe?

I'll make every effort not to stretch the point here, but just like Bill Clinton, former Orange County Sheriff Mike Carona knows how to work a room. He's personable, well-spoken and has that innate speaker's gift of knowing how to go from serious to funny and back to serious with seeming ease.

As a girl, Parisa Popalzai learned that her heritage contained the stuff of fairy tales, that she was in fact descended from Afghan royalty. Imagine, a 19th century emir in the family.

Some people just sit around and complain about a problem (Note to self: Look in the mirror), and other people actually try to make things happen.

One of my jobs here at the newspaper is to carefully monitor behavioral changes in the people of Orange County and then attach profound insights to them. To answer your question, of course it's difficult work, but I'm not complaining. I knew what I signed on for and am handsomely compensated for it.