I have certain pillars that anchor my summer. Another one has come and gone, the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally, always in the beginning of August. I sat here debating the drive like I’ve done before, I hate that I wasn’t there although I don’t have any t-shirts to sell and my friend the “Desert Doctor” is not a reliable texter.
(scroll to the bottom for this weekend’s estate sale list)
I’ve been in L.A. all summer (well and a quick trip to Italy, haha). It feels weird not seeing women linking their floats together for a serene drift through the lake while they rip cigarettes (Vermont). Or going to my favorite Keno restaurant for pizza, that is a front, and has literally never had one customer inside other than us (Western Mass). How about actually finding seashells on the beach, where the sand is so soft and cool it feels like butter taken out of the fridge at the perfect time (Cape Cod).
Some of my afternoons were spent sitting in my lounge chair, Amazon Prime coming up the street, scanning one, two, six things for the neighbors, getting stuck trying to turn around. Then Fedex comes up. If you block one ear, the EV delivery trucks backing up sound semi-wave-like. I recognize a lot of people who live here don’t like the beach. For me I’ve decided I need it like air. I’m moving back in a month and of course each day is taking its sweet time. I am a hamster on a wheel until I can get back over there (talking about the Westside).
My next major pillar of summer, the crescendo, is the Malibu Chili Cook-Off. It makes for the perfect occasion for ripped denim shorts and Uggs. It’s a small town experience without having to go home and see your friend still working the same job from high school.
You buy samples of each vendor’s chili, vote for your favorite, hit the beer/wine tent that’s always sponsored by Barefoot Dreams…I love the view from the ferris wheel of Ralphs and the abyss of ocean behind it.
I understand Euphoria had a chili cook-off episode and yeah, it is the exact same thing. But picture more tweens in Chrome Hearts, dads in Chrome Hearts, moms in Aviator Nation.
Malibu is the best place on Earth according to me. I moved there when I was 21 and thought I had life figured out on my first go.
As you spend time there, the locals make themselves known. It goes beyond niceties, they bare their souls to you. I mean it, how else would I have heard a gambling addict’s triumphant escape to a shack in Point Dume, all while waiting in line to buy stamps at the Ed Niles designed post office. I thoughtfully listened to numerous business plans at the Starbucks on the side of Pavilions. The place had a unique energy vortex, for sure, but I went with it.
How is it possible that I was just reading a book on Malibu history in the 60s/70s, where they talk about a pig and two dogs that were all raised together hanging on the beach..and I saw that same scenario a year ago?? Is this a tradition that continues to be upheld??
My next door neighbor was a good old normal guy. He had inherited the property from his parents. There were three bungalows around a pool, two of which he rented out.
A dog I named Buster Brown invited himself over everyday. The only person who kind of threw off the vibe was my other neighbor, the guy who played Thor, but he was never there so we could ignore that fact and appreciate our normalcy.
Something I should mention, I moved in a few months before the Woolsey Fire in 2018, which took out half my street. Including the bungalow property. Buster Brown was okay.
I lived down by Point Dume, evacuating took six hours inching along PCH. There was a topless woman who lived in an RV on the side of the highway, everyone knew her okay? I remember her standing there as we were all idling along. Amongst the chaos, people riding their horses through traffic, she felt like some sort of omen. I was hoping it was a good one.
I have to say Malibu is resilient, actually inviolable, in a way you won’t understand unless you’re there experiencing it.
UGH!!! That is what I miss. One long boiling summer spent in Hollywood has felt like a hex. I think there is too much personality here for it to ever feel, actually personable. Or it could be as simple as I just don’t like it that much. Not to yuck your yum.
My year and a half here wasn’t all horrendously monotonous and stale. I studied Transcendental Meditation through the David Lynch Foundation. I attended my first Krampus Night at the Philosophical Research Society. I have only good memories of spending just the right amount of time at the Blue Room in Burbank. I found a great place for kabobs that I won’t gatekeep for forever, I’m just not done yet. (all of the things I’ve mentioned are not in Hollywood, so maybe it really does suck here idk).
What Malibu means to me:
Malibu Chili Cook-Off is this weekend! Time it right so you can hit the ferris wheel for sunset. P.S. I always just park in the lot across the street.
Estate sale list is below, also giving a couple of local auctions that I’ve been eyeing. A mix of art, porcelain mice in country outfits, vintage Dior…slip dresses and Chanel heels in a home with forrest green carpet. Plus custom furniture, and many reasons to take a lap around the valley.