Divine Intervention in Health Care?

“Things may be worse regarding managed care than we previously thought!” wrote Sharon Lau after noticing an all-too-familiar, chilling set of initials in a church bulletin. The Glendale Church of Religious Science listed, among its phone numbers, an “H.M.O. Prayer Hotline.”

I dialed it with high hopes, only to find that H.M.O. stood for “Healing Ministry Outreach.” Then again, maybe my insurance company’s refusal to cover Viagra and Rogaine would fall under that category.

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SAYING NO TO VIAGRA: Karen Edwards of Palm Desert came upon a theater marquee offer for those who, unlike this columnist, prefer to keep their mind on a high intellectual plane (see photo).

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IS THERE AN INSPECTION EACH MORNING? Renee Loewenthal of Santa Monica, meanwhile, spotted a street where residents are urged to take a shower (see photo).

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ET TU, PALOS: I sat down in the middle of Spring Street the other night to watch Shakespeare’s “Julius Caesar” performed on the steps of City Hall. It was a thrill to hear the Bard’s words accompanied by the sounds for which L.A. is famous--police sirens, helicopters, honking and backfiring cars (at least, I hope those were backfiring cars).

I was further reminded that L.A. is the City of Headlights by the traffic signal that was a few feet from my seat.

The play itself offered discussions familiar to quake-conscious Angelenos, as when Casca asks, “Who ever knew the heavens menace so?” and Cassius responds, “Those that have known the earth so full of faults.”

Now the production moves to South Coast Botanic Gardens in Palos Verdes. Goodbye from your fans on Spring. As Hank Rosenfeld noted, parting is such street sorrow.

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HURRY, BEFORE STARBUCKS BUYS THE BUILDING: On Aug. 1, the Parham Gallery in West L.A. opens what it claims to be the first art exhibition “exclusively dedicated” to the celebration of the teapot. More than 30 teapot artists are featured.

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MONKEY BUSINESS: Discussing “May I Take Your Order?” a new pictorial history of restaurant menus, I mentioned a long-vanished L.A. eatery, the Zamboanga, whose curious slogan was: “Home of the Tail-Less Monkeys.”

Henry Willis recalls that the motto “had something to do with a song from the ‘20s or ‘30s about ‘Zamboanga, where the monkeys have no tails.’ My father knew that much of the song (although not the tune). He could also sing the Cliquot Club Eskimo song, which was connected with a radio show and was punctuated with barks from the Cliquot Club’s huskies.”

Willis wonders if this column’s readers have any memories of that latter song.

“Sadly,” he said, “I don’t remember any of the words or the tune (other than the barks).”

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L.A. INSULT OF THE DAY: A recent headline in the Wall Street Journal asked, “Is Traffic-Clogged Atlanta the New Los Angeles?”

Grrrr.

miscelLAny:

The Pasadena Freeway was originally called the Arroyo Seco Parkway. Other parts of the nation still use the term “parkway” as a synonym for freeway or highway, which leads Ken Davis to say, “I’d like to know why we park on a driveway and drive on a parkway?”