Pricey Petrol Can Be Tres Chic

Is there a positive side to the gasoline price hikes? Phil Proctor, this column’s man in Beverly Hills, heard an L.A. motorist tell “CBS Evening News”:

“I want to pay three or four dollars a gallon. I want to feel like I’m living in Paris.”

Ooh L.A. L.A.!

*

AND THE WHINER IS . . . : So, first the 4,200 Oscar ballots from the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences are misplaced. Then, the academy condemns the Wall Street Journal for conducting a telephone poll of the Oscar voters.

Some nerve--I mean, on the part of the academy.

The academy should be grateful. In fact, it should just let the Journal take over the ballot chores.

*

QUICK! MAYBE WE CAN MAKE IT TO ARIZONA: How bad was the recent storm? “It’s tsunami time,” wrote Kevin McDaniels of Santa Barbara after noticing that a local newspaper had forecast waves in excess of 70 feet (see accompanying).

*

BODY WORKS: Tom Leventhal of Long Beach came across a casket company that is less than six feet from a body-piercing shop (see photo). Which reminds me that Jessica Benson of L.A. sent along an ad for a body parts sale (see accompanying).

*

FOOD TO DIE FOR: Continuing this grisly Halloween-in-March edition, I offer “A Taste of Murder,” edited by Jo Grossman and Robert Weibezahl, a collection of recipes from mystery writers.

Southern California novelist-chefs mentioned include:

* Sue Grafton (“O is for Outlaw”), with a dish named after her no-frills investigator: “The Kinsey Millhone Famous Peanut Butter and Pickle Sandwich.”

“I get letters from readers who are completely aghast at the notion,” Grafton confides, “but others actually try it (with relatives standing by to dial 911) and confess it’s not half bad.”

* Martin J. Smith (“Shadow Image”), with “Jim Christensen’s Macaroni and Guilt,” named for his book’s overworked crime-solver. Christensen serves his kids carrots, macaroni and cheese for dinner while comforting them with these words: “Orange food is good for your eyes or something, isn’t it?”

* And T. Jefferson Parker (“The Triggerman’s Dance”), with “Triggerman’s Rattlesnake.” In the novel, which is about the hunt for a killer in Orange County, the heroine serves the serpent to an unsuspecting fellow who thinks it’s either fish or chicken.

Parker’s directions: “Kill, skin and dress a rattlesnake. Remove the head, because a dead snake can still clamp his mouth on you.” (Peanut butter and pickles sounds more dangerous to me.)

*

MORE FOOD FOR THOUGHT: Actually, in Parker’s “Triggerman,” I was more mortified by a drunk FBI agent’s barbecuing style. The G-man asks a newsman guest: “How do you like your chicken?”

“That’s a dumb question,” the newsman retorts. “When’s the last time somebody told you they like their chicken rare?”

miscelLAny:

I don’t like to poke my nose into politics, but there comes a time when a columnist has to speak out. So I’m calling on a certain well-known presidential candidate to release his delegates.

Yes, I’m referring to the leading vote-getter of the Reform Party in California’s primary. I mean you, Donald Trump.

*

Steve Harvey can be reached at (800) LATIMES Ext. 77083, by fax at (213) 237-4712, by mail at Metro, L.A. Times, Times Mirror Square, L.A. 90053 and by e-mail at steve.harvey@latimes.com.