My car, the Capricorn: Sara Meric of...

My car, the Capricorn: Sara Meric of Santa Monica has passed along the latest publication from her colleagues in the Skeptics Society, a locally based group of scholars, scientists, historians and magicians.

The Skeptics report that “in Los Angeles (where else?), you can get your car repaired through an astral mechanic.” This spacey Mr. Goodwrench is said to “employ computer-assisted search technologies to cast a full astrological profile of your car based on the time it left the manufacturer,” using the engine block number.

Ever gullible, we phoned the astral auto people but no one answered, which really bothers us. Our jalopy was supposed to get a lube job weeks ago when the moon was in Virgo and in good aspect to our sun.

Waitress, there’s a size 6 in my soup: Among the basics taught by Linda Ackerman, director of a Santa Monica school for waiters and waitresses, is to keep your eyes open and clothes on.

Ackerman, of Serv-Tech Food & Beverage Inc., says she was once in a restaurant where she saw, to her astonishment, a waitress’ “underpants fall down around her ankles.” Luckily, a waiter raced over. “He gallantly took off his jacket,” Ackerman said, “and, with a very dramatic sweeping gesture, held it in front of her so she could step out of her pants. Under the circumstances, I thought they carried it off with a lot of class.”

Take-out item of the day: D.S. Jenkins of Tarzana snapped the accompanying sign, which is as all-American as multicultural L.A. can be.

Concealed missiles: Val Rodriguez recalls that when he was growing up in East Los Angeles before World War II, he and his buddies often attended the movies at the old Keystone Theater on 1st Street--but not before being searched by theater personnel.

“They weren’t looking for weapons, mind you,” he says.

They were looking for pumpkin seeds which, once chewed, were considered an intolerable source of litter. Another item for the how-times-have-changed file.

Home insecurity: Roy Harris of West L.A. was walking into his garage when he suddenly tripped, fell to the ground and yelled as things began to fall on him.

What had happened, he learned, was that he had stumbled over a strategically placed mop, which attacked him. Then he kicked a piece of string that was stretched across the garage like a tripwire. The string was attached to a pogo stick that collapsed on him.

“Oh, Dad!” exclaimed his 5-year-old son, R.J., who came running to Harris’ rescue with the rest of the family. “I was playing ‘Home Alone’ and I was trying to keep the bad guys out.”

miscelLAny:

Spy magazine quotes a study by Young & Rubicam that found that residents in northern Mississippi watch the most television of any area in the nation--an average of 4 hours and 39 minutes a day. L.A. finished in a tie for 151st at 3 hours and 37 minutes.