Tag Archives: Malibu

Problem At Dylan’s Place

In 2009 I was at a pizza joint in Malibu and while waiting for my order I grabbed a free Malibu Surfside News from the paper rack and started reading.

I saw a great ‘letter to the editor’, copied it later that night, and posted it here. I also continue to look through boxes, hoping that I still have this paper.

The letter read:

Dear Editor: Did you realize that if your neighbor decides to rent a toxic, hazardous, carcinogenic chemical toilet and plop it down permanently right next to your property, forcing you and your family to breathe its toxic fumes, the City of Malibu will do nothing to help you?

If it can happen to my family and I, it can happen to you. Let me tell you a story.

Currently, there is such a toilet very near our house on Point Dume. This toilet is apparently intended by my neighbor, Bob Dylan, to be a permanent fixture on his property. Unfortunately, the toilet is nowhere near his house, but the hazardous chemical vapors out-gassing from it infiltrate my living space 24 hours a day, seven days a week (worse on foggy nights), and every Friday morning a truck refills it with more poison.

According to Malibu bylaws, my neighbor is not permitted to have such a toilet, certainly not on a permanent basis.

When I bought my house, the possibility of this potential hazard was not disclosed to me. It is not just a nuisance – it is seriously affecting my family’s health and impairing my use and enjoyment of my property. Therefore, it seems to me that to protect future buyers of property in Malibu from the abuse that my family is going through, every Realtor should have to disclose the fact that any neighbor can place a chemical toilet near their property and keep it there forever without any interference from the city.

Cindy and Dave Emminger

Have You Ever Been To……?

We really need a general manager in place pronto in Montreal. Not just because the draft is coming up fast and we have the number 3 pick to decide on, and not only because he has to hire a coach and figure out how to ship out Scott Gomez, but also because we need something to talk about here.

I think the GM should be a female. Some nice, sexy, low-cut clothes, a smile and a wink, a gentle stroking of the arm, and she’ll have Glen Sather so screwed up he’ll take back Gomez in a New York minute. And throw in some cash for good measure.

Doug Risebrough’s name has come up and we could talk about the time he ripped Marty McSorley’s sweater to shreds when Calgary played Edmonton. Or when he, Mario Tremblay, and Yvon Lambert were three of the finest plumbers on some of the finest Habs teams ever.

We really need a GM and coach in place so we can agree and argue and plan how we’re going to win the Cup with these guys on board.

Until then, have you ever been to Malibu?

Malibu is only a few minutes along the Pacific Coast Highway heading out from Santa Monica. The houses aren’t spectacular from the highway, but the back of them, along the beach, show their true beauty. They’re also are in the 20 million range if you’re thinking about living there.

Moonshadows, in the second picture, is the restaurant where Mel Gibson got plastered, then got in his car and was promptly stopped by a cop, charged with a DUI, and began a slurring rant about Jews and others.

Although the houses along the beach are owned and lived in by movie stars and high-priced lawyers and such, regular people like you and me can access the beach at several barely-marked paths which you have to look closely for. These billionaries certainly don’t want a lot of riff-raff taking over their beach and talking hockey, that’s for sure. But we can hang out whether they like it or not.

When you go, spread out a towel, gaze at the water, then turn around and notice the hired help at these 20 million dollar places polishing the silver on the decks and washing windows. Live and lounge like a rich movie star on the white sand with the surf crashing before you, then get back in your car and drive several miles to your Motel 6 and hope your TV works and the sheets are clean.

 

Chicago’s Season Ends, And Sens-Rangers Go To 7

Senators lose 3-2 and their series with the Rangers goes to a seventh game, while Phoenix blows out Chicago in six games after a 4-0 win.

Hobo brings up a good point. If the Coyotes somehow manage to go all the way, Gary Bettman would look like a freakin’ swami hockey guy. How bad would that be? Think about it. He’d be soon looking into Buenos Aires as a future franchise.

I watched the Sens game in a restaurant in Vancouver and I don’t know what the announcers said, but it sure seemed that Ottawa’s 2nd goal was kicked in. But regardless, the Rangers still won and now it’s back to Broadway for a big game seven on Thursday.

The reason I was in a restaurant in Vancouver instead of the friendly confines of my living room is because our Russian family is zooming back to St. Petersburg tomorrow, and we have to be near the airport for tomorrow’s big take-off. But they had a great trip, loved Powell River and area, saw some sea lions, inhaled sea air, fed chipmonks, and we took them on a road trip to San Francisco, L.A., Disneyland, Las Vegas, back to Hollywood, Beverly Hills, Malibu, and up to San Francisco again for a tour of Alcatraz.

So they’re going home with big honkin memories, and when they say how much they’ve loved it, I believe them.

In the meantime – there’s some Geico commercials I really like. Like their sort-of-new “Hockey 75 Years Ago.”

And this one too –

 

 

Beach Blanket Bingo And The Great And Historic Outhouse Search

If I were a less-mature man, I might be sobbing uncontrollably as it came time to say goodbye to West Hollywood. Goodbye Sunset Strip, goodbye beer in legendary rock clubs, goodbye great murder and drug overdose stories.

But fortunately, I can handle it. Sort of.

Also fortunately, it’s not the end of the world because our GPS lady took us to not one beach, not two, but three beaches!

I’m not sobbing because we spent the mid-morning in Venice Beach where I got a little Habs crest tattooed on my upper arm, then a couple of hours on the Santa Monica Pier, where Michael Douglas got shot by Robert Duvall and fell over the rail in the movie Falling Down, and certainly not in Malibu where we have a motel for the night and where we walked the beach at the Colony, the row of multi-million dollar homes owned by movie stars and others with too much money, and parked our blankets and soaked in the rays right behind the house where Bruce Willis and Demi Moore used to live before things went sour.

Just my luck. If Bruce Willis and Demi Moore hadn’t divorced and still lived there, they probably would have seen me out their window, called me in, made a few phone calls, and I’d be in the movies as planned.

That’s why we went for beer after the beach. To make me feel better.

One other very exciting thing I should mention before I’m out the door is the Bob Dylan experience. Last year, when we were in Malibu for the first time, I was reading a local newspaper and there was a letter to the editor from a guy who lives next door to Dylan over in Point Dume and he was complaining that the singer has an outhouse on his property and the smell was invading this guy’s house. He said he might have to move because of the stench but the city of Malibu (and Dylan) refused to do anything about it.

A while ago when I knew we were coming down here, I contacted a Malibu blogger who told me where Dylan’s house is, and so, in the name of great blogging, I went there in the hopes of photographing the smelly outhouse. But alas, as I began my walk down Dylan’s dirt driveway with a stable of horses close by, a security guy came out of nowhere and asked me why I hadn’t read the No Trespassing sign. I said I did, I just wanted to take a picture of an outhouse, but the guy didn’t laugh, not one bit, and told me I should leave.

So I did.

But enough about my bad luck and outhouses.  Here’s some photos.

Surfers at Venice Beach, only minutes before I got a little Habs tattoo on my upper arm at a funky little shop on the walkway.
Me at Venice Beach, again only minutes before my tattoo. That’s not a beer gut. I usually wear a pillow under my shirt when I go to the beach to keep the ladies away.
The entrance to Bob Dylan’s house at Point Dume in Malibu. All I saw were some horses and a bunch of steel containers.
When they were still married, Bruce Willis and Demi Moore’s house on the beach at Malibu, as shot from our blanket on the sand. It’s just too bad they didn’t stay together, still lived there, and invited us in for beer. Just my luck.
A stretch of the Malibu Colony, as taken from our blanket. If there’s any producers or directors reading, we’ll be back tomorrow.

Someone’s Pissed At Dylan

This isn’t about hockey, it’s not even about sports, but I thought it was good, quality shit. I mean, what’s more important than toilets?

A while back, I got a motel in Malibu for a night, and while at the pizza joint nearby, I grabbed a free Malibu Surfside News from the paper rack. And I’m only just now reading it.

In the letters to the editor, I flushed out one particular story.  It went like this:

Dear Editor: Did you realize that if your neighbour decides to rent a toxic, hazardous, carcinogenic chemical toilet and plop it down permanently right next to your property, forcing you and your family to breathe its toxic fumes, the City of Malibu will do nothing to help you?

If it can happen to my family and I, it can happen to you. Let me tell you a story.

Currently, there is such a toilet very near our house on Pointe Dune. This toilet is apparently intended by my neighbor, Bob Dylan, to be a permanent fixture on his property. Unfortunately, the toilet is nowhere near his house, but the hazardous chemical vapors out-gassing from it infiltrate my living space 24 hours a day, seven days a week (worse on foggy nights), and every Friday morning a truck refills it with more poison.

According to Malibu bylaws, my neighbor is not permitted to have such a toilet, certainly not on a permanent basis.

When I bought my house, the possibility of this potential hazard was not disclosed to me. It is not just a nuisance – it is seriously affecting my family’s health and impairing my use and enjoyment of my property. Therefore, it seems to me that to protect future buyers of property in Malibu from the abuse that my family is going through, every Realtor should have to disclose the fact that any neighbor can place a chemical toilet near their property and keep it there forever without any interference from the city.

Cindy and Dave Emminger