Using Lightbulbs for Population Control

In the movie “Volcano,” the Beverly Center is threatened with the prospect of an extremely hot bath, which brings to mind an unsettling scene once witnessed by Tom Nevermann.

On his way to the gym about 5:45 a.m., Nevermann was stopped at a red light when he noticed the Hard Rock Cafe’s electronic tote boards, one showing “Acres of Rain Forest Now” the other “World Population Now.”

“I had to rub my eyes and look twice,” Nevermann said. “Evidently some of the lightbulbs had gone out and the world population at that moment was stuck at 8! I glanced around nervously, thinking that I had missed something while I was sleeping.”

Then, an encouraging sight. “I noticed a man walking across the street,” Nevermann said, “and thought to myself, ‘Two . . . ‘ “

COUNTLESS LANGUAGES SPOKEN HERE: In midtown L.A., Michael Saltzman found the United Nations of furniture stores (see photo).

DON’T ASK IF HE’S KING OF THE HOUSEHOLD: As he parked at the Elks Club in Playa del Rey for a Little League parents dance, Steve Cooper of L.A. related, “I was about to set the hand brake when my wife informed me in no uncertain terms that this spot [see photo] was not meant for me.”

DRESS FOR THE EVENT WAS NO JACKET, OR HARDLY ANYTHING ELSE: If you saw 50 people walking in their underwear down Pico Boulevard in West L.A. the other day, Len Magnus wants you to know you weren’t hallucinating.

Magnus and some other screen extras--ages 3 to 70--were hired for a photo shoot for a Japanese department store catalog. They carried items ranging from briefcases to umbrellas to knapsacks. The theme of the company’s ad: If you don’t wear their clothing, you’re naked.

The reaction of passersby? No big deal. “It’s L.A.,” Magnus said. “People were either asking us what movie we were making or they were taking photos.”

Even though the extras carried no wallets, they were protected by a small force of security guards. The guards wore all their clothes, including full holsters.

THE HARVEY GUYS: After the Metro section began running mug shots of the section’s columnists, I received a call from a fan of KTLA-TV’s “The Steve Harvey Show.”

“I saw your photo in the paper,” the fan said in a slightly accusatory tone. “I thought you were the Steve Harvey on TV.”

“No, he’s a different Steve Harvey,” I said, feeling it unnecessary to remind her that the TV performer is African American.

Fan: “So you’re not on TV?”

Me: “No.”

Fan: “I really enjoy ‘The Steve Harvey Show.’ ”

I nearly said thank you.

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You’ve no doubt seen those automobile dealers in L.A. who advertise their jalopies with such euphemistic adjectives as pre-owned, etc. None of that namby-pamby stuff in gritty New York City. While there, reports Hank Rosenfeld of Santa Monica, “I saw a sign that said, ‘Used and Wrecked Cars’ . . . Whoa!”

Steve Harvey, the newspaper guy, can be reached by phone at (213) 237-7083, by fax at (213) 237-4712, by e-mail at steve.harvey@latimes.com and by mail at Metro, L.A. Times, Times Mirror Square, L.A. 90053.