Redondo Beach Residents Apparently Didn’t Consider Statue a Sacred Cow

Sounds like a case of mad-at-cow disease: The Beach Reporter says that a bovine statue -- described as 5 feet tall, 8 feet long and 2 feet wide, with a pink body and yellow spots -- was rustled from the front lawn of a Redondo Beach residence. (Sorry I couldn’t give you a more detailed description.)

No suspects have been named but, according to the newspaper, police noted that “some of the local settlers in the neighborhood did not like her presence on the front lawn.”

Elsewhere in the animal kingdom: Outside a restaurant in Albuquerque, Daniel Evans of South Pasadena saw a variation on the prince-turned-into-a-frog theme (see photo).

Ooh L.A. L.A.! Ron Goldie found a restaurant in the Valley that obviously was not happy with a certain European country’s opposition to U.S. policy in Iraq (see photo). “I did not ask about French beer,” Goldie added.

Attention topless men: Cruise lines offer all sorts of packages for specialized audiences. Jane Wickstrom of Huntington Beach even spotted one for bald travelers (see accompanying).

Speaking of travelers: The Harvey clan spent a few days in San Francisco, where we felt as though we were back in Southern California when we chanced upon a disaster-themed store (see photo).

In fact, no sooner did we check into our 27th floor room than a local newspaper reported the likelihood of a huge quake striking the Bay Area before the year 2130. I was reassured to calculate that the odds of it hitting that night were about 10,000 to 1 (roughly the same as a day with no SigAlerts in L.A.).

On the other hand, this notice in the hotel gave me pause: “On windy days you may hear some creaking. This does not mean you’re in any danger.”

It was, naturally, a windy night.

Car of the eons? Heading back down the coast, I noticed a Mitsubishi that I’d never heard of: a Lancer Evolution. Odd name when you think about it. I mean, what stage of evolution was the car? I’d hate to get stuck with a Neanderthal model. Probably would creak a lot.

miscelLAny: Returning to my office, I zapped 362 junk e-mails, though I have to admit I did check one whose subject heading said someone had attempted to use my password and another that said a collection agency was after me. Both were, of course, just spam gimmicks.

The one with the cruelest timing, though, said:

“Steve Harvey, we all need a vacation.”

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Steve Harvey can be reached at (800) LA-TIMES, Ext. 77083; by fax at (213) 237-4712; by mail at Metro, L.A. Times, 202 W. 1st St., L.A. 90012; and by e-mail at steve.harvey@latimes.com.