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Neighbors doing their part to put criminals behind fig bars

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“Homemade Apricot Fig Bars Fight Crime,” proclaimed the headline in the Palisadian-Post.

It seems a resident told a neighbor that she was going to drop off some newly baked fig bars. The neighbor wasn’t home, so the goodies were left by the door.

Later, the intended recipient called her friend to say the bars weren’t there and she was really “ticked off.”

So ticked off that she wrote down the license plate number of a trash-strewn van parked on the street and called the police.

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And what do you know? The cops called back to say the driver was suspected of a neighborhood burglary elsewhere. The good news for the driver is he wasn’t charged with taking the fig bars.

Another bad parking idea: Paul Schowalter of Cerritos noticed what might seem like a “Duh!” warning near Seattle (see photo). He added: “We were told this lake is normally a lot lower in the summer. Not this year.”

A sushi bar that serves chops? That was the conclusion drawn by Bob Holmes when he saw a designation in a Northridge parking lot (see photo).

The devil, you say: After a visit to Catalina, David DuMond of Westminster said “it can be hell getting past all the tourist shops” (see photo).

Fat chance: As I mentioned the other day, the 2008 Guinness Book of Records is out and many Southern Californians are honored, including Bob Hatch of Pasadena, “who snapped his fingers with a decibel meter reading of 108 on May 17, 2000.” (I hope the neighbors didn’t lodge a noise complaint.)

Anyway, if you’re thinking about trying to get a mention in the 2009 book, take heed of the four categories that the editors say they will not recognize:

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“I can lick my elbow (we don’t care; it’s not a record)”

“Largest potato chip”

“Fattest cat”

“Fastest surgery (please take your time when operating, doctor)”

And don’t even think about submitting a fastest-surgery-on-overweight-cat record.

Paperwork, paperwork: Cal State Long Beach cop John Bellah, vacationing in Mammoth, was at a convenience store standing in line behind a young man trying to buy beer.

The clerk carded the kid, and when she saw the date of birth on his driver’s license, she said: “You were born in 1990! You’re not even 18! Get out of my store!”

With a professional eye, Bellah noticed the youth glance into his wallet at his other (fake) I.D. and mutter, “Oops.”

miscellany: A commercial development planned for a corner of Foothill Boulevard and Rochester Avenue in Rancho Cucamonga is called Footchester in the area redevelopment agency’s newsletter.

Asked columnist David Allen of the Inland Valley Daily Bulletin: “Wouldn’t the Footchester name alone guarantee a ‘C’ from health inspectors?”

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Steve Harvey can be reached at (800) LATIMES, 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.

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