Nightingale’s Song Raises Her Grackles

You may recall the mention here of a Seal Beach resident who complained about “a loud chirping bird” noise that she claimed was a tape recording intended to “disturb the peace of others.” The police, according to the News-Enterprise of Los Alamitos, determined that the sound actually “was nightingales mating.”

Little did I know I would draw several complaints--not over the X-rated aspect of the item, but over the alleged ID of the noisy lovers.

Nightingales, I was informed, are not native to North America. (I was reminded of the controversy created by the late Times columnist Jack Smith, who saw a common grackle in his backyard--the only such sighting west of the Mississippi River.)

This was not a grackle, either. “The bird in question, if it was from here in Southern California, is our Northern mockingbird (Mimus polyglottos), an unattached male advertising for a girlfriend,” wrote James R. Northern of Occidental College’s Moore Laboratory of Zoology. “We go through this process each spring.”

How was I to know? From now on, I’ll cringe every time I hear a recording of that beautiful ballad, “A Nightingale Sang in Pershing Square.”

A DEAL THAT’S NOTHING TO CROW ABOUT: Rose Jacobs and some other vigilant readers passed along an offer from People magazine, which is obviously determined to persuade people to subscribe for more than one year (see accompanying).

PLAYING HARDBALL: Chuck Seeger came upon a sign in Thousand Oaks that seems to promise dire consequences if you don’t take a detour (see photo).

IF YOU CAN READ THIS . . . One real pleasure is to be able to notify readers when the world has not come to an end--a frequent duty with all the doomsday warnings in L.A.

I’m not sure that the chalked message spotted by UCLA Professor Henry Hespenheide on campus falls into that category. It said: “End of the world today--June 4 at 12 noon--Ackerman (Hall) 3517.” I failed to show at Ackerman, figuring I’d rather miss news about the end of the world than drive across town.

Whatever, this is traditionally a busy month for doom-and-gloomers in L.A., perhaps because of the weather (you know--June gloom).

Four years ago, there was a rumor that sober Angelenos were being pulled over by the cops for erratic driving. The motorists would explain that they had been unnerved by a back-seat poltergeist warning that a massive quake would occur on June 16, 1994. (Maybe it was only a Mimus polyglottos?)

Then there was the June 9, 1980, press conference called by a Hollywood evangelist to reveal that the end was near. Panic subsided when it was learned that the holy man had showed up 20 minutes late because he overslept.

BY THE WAY: Kooky L.A. can’t compare to San Diego when it comes to unusual street names, say William Potts of that city and Norma Pereira of North Hollywood. As evidence, they submit these two San Diego noms du pave: Noah Way and Haveteur Way.

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A Sports Illustrated article about Indiana Pacers basketball player Reggie Miller says “he has always been a Hollywood guy,” adding that he was “born and raised in Riverside, Calif., not far from Tinseltown.” Not far from Hemet, yes. But Hollywood? Noah Way.

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Steve Harvey 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.