Where Everything Is Happening

By SYBIL GRIEB Special to the Palisadian-Post It all started one night when my boyfriend, Jess (a video-game writer, then unemployed), looked up from his computer exasperated and said, ‘Well, I found the perfect job, but it’s not in this country!’ I thought about it for a second and said, ‘I don’t have kids or a mortgage.’ And with that realization, our lives changed forever. We decided we absolutely wanted to live abroad.   Over the next few weeks, we held meaningful conversations such as ‘Spain?’ ‘S’!’ ‘France?’ ‘Ou’!’ And then a call from his agent: ‘How about China?’ We looked at each other. ‘Now there’s a language I can’t fake’Oh, why not? I’m in.’ So in September 2009, armed with our knowledge of how to say ‘hello’ and ‘thank you,’ Ubisoft flew Jess and me to its Shanghai studio for a visit.   I expected Shanghai to feel more like parts of New York City’concrete, crowded, intense, unwelcoming’but it is not. The energy in Shanghai is amazing. People smile so frequently and OK, maybe laugh at us foreigners a bit when we try to speak Mandarin, but there is an excitement in Shanghai, like everything is about to happen. At night, huge sections of the city light up like Vegas and the skyscrapers flash as if talking to each other, while the boats on the Huang Pu put on a show that glitters all the way down the river.   In the early morning, the numerous parks are filled with people doing tai chi. There are temples and gardens, and ponds filled with ‘lucky’ goldfish, and you can stroll through the old French Concession and watch the tree-lined streets collect leaves’just beware of people riding their bikes and scooters on the sidewalk! There is no shortage of cabs, and as the ‘rules’ of the road seem to be more like ‘suggestions’ here, you get from one place to another rapidly. I often look up to find my cab driver straddling highway lanes at 60 mph for minutes on end. And this appears fine with the five cars driving next to us on the three (suggested in paint) lanes on the highway. Or use the shoulder as a lane, why not? An interesting solution to L.A.’s constant widening of the 405.   But it is Shanghai’s architecture that surprises me so much. The colonial buildings abut the occasional ancient temple, with more than 4,000 of the world’s most modern skyscrapers interspersed into the mix. It’s like Paris 1920 meets China 1644 meets ‘Blade Runner.’ I cannot do it justice; it is something you must experience for yourself.   There are bars, restaurants and caf’s with every possible item, architecture and environment. Jess, in addition to being a writer, is also quite the foodie. I had concerns about the food in China. Would it be too spicy, taste too foreign, or look up at me from my plate? But the food here is fabulous. (Though, to be fair, occasionally there will be an entire chicken foot giving you the high-five from your bowl of soup.) On our visit we tasted Shanghaiese cuisine, Sichuan, Japanese, French, and there was even a Spanish tapas restaurant next to our hotel. I ate food from carts on the street and consumed all kinds of delicious-but-I-have-no-idea-what-that-was dishes. So after a couple days of interviews and exploring and phenomenal cuisine, we were sold. Jess moved to Shanghai in November while I wrapped up work, packed up home and shipped out, with my cat, in January.   There are approximately 20 million people living in Shanghai. It is sweltering hot in the summer and very cold in the winter. I am from L.A.’really from there. Growing up in Pacific Palisades, I had heard stories of snow, but I had never actually seen it. Every Christmas we would decorate the house with doilies and my mother (from Kansas) would tell me, ‘This is what snowflakes look like. They are just beautiful and each one is unique.’ But it wasn’t until I was 19 and living in New York that I finally witnessed this magical event. I was very disillusioned. My mother had left out an important detail. Snowflakes do look like doilies; however, they are not to scale. I thought they would blanket small children! And then there was the whole freezing-to-death-in-my-Gap-cotton-hoodie factor.   Having learned from this experience, I departed for Shanghai in November fully armed with every down, faux down and better-than-down alternative coat. My cat, however, had to survive an unexplainable 16 hours of flying beneath the seat in front of me, and a week in cold, solitary confinement in a Chinese cat jail with only his L.A. coat (thanks to a mandatory seven-day feline quarantine). Our Persian, more suited to the cold, had flown out with Jess in November and, despite his long fur and holier-than-thou demeanor, was still struck down with a life-threatening cold that lasted weeks. Oh, we were still excited about two years in Shanghai, but secretly our ‘Sure, why not!’ attitude gave way in moments to ‘Oh God, what if’?’   Upon my arrival, Jess was informed he would be departing in two days for a series of meetings with the studio heads in Paris. So there I was. Two days in. I spoke no Chinese, had no friends, didn’t know where the grocery store was or even how to ask, my boyfriend was off in the City of Lights, and my cat was in jail. And then it started snowing’   There is something magical about doing something so big it scares you; about standing alone in a country you know almost nothing about, in a rented, furnished apartment picked by somebody else. Looking out the window at the miles of buildings reaching into the night sky, you recognize how small you are, and how fleeting.   In the three months I have now lived in Shanghai, I have learned survival Chinese, made many great friends, and have continued exploring. My cat has been returned to me (completely unfazed by the whole ordeal) and it feels much more like home. I would love to be nonchalant about the whole thing, but I must confess I am still glued to cab windows watching the world of brilliantly lit skyscrapers flash past. The buildings are like snowflakes; each one is beautiful and unique. Oh, but not to scale. Shanghai is much grander than I imagined. (Editor’s note: This article describes Grieb’s first impressions of Shanghai through February 2010. A Pacific Palisades native, she graduated from Palisades High School in 1995. Her father, Bill, was Citizen of the Year in 1997, and died in 2006. Her mother, Sylvia, is proprietor of The Letter Shop on Via de la Paz.)

With movie remakes of ‘The A-Team’ and ‘The Karate Kid’ heading our way, the 1980s will be making a comeback this summer.   Pacific Palisades native Mike Pearson attempts to recapture the ‘Me Decade’ in his memoir, ‘One Step Beyond,’ which he’ll sign and discuss tonight, June 3, 7:30 p.m., at Village Books on Swarthmore.   Kind of a ‘Less Than Zero’ set in the Palisades, ‘One Step Beyond’ borrows its title from a classic Madness song. In fact, Pearson, who grew up playing punk rock, uses song titles for chapter sub-headings (Black Flag’s ‘Wasted,’ Culture Club’s ‘Do You Really Want to Hurt Me?,’ ‘Love My Way’ by Psychedelic Furs) to reinforce the late ’70s/early ’80s era of the book, which is based on journal entries written when Pearson was ages 14 through 20 and living on Chautauqua.   ’My original intention was to make it really fun and exciting,’ says Pearson, 45, today a Manhattan Beach resident. ‘Then I figured that wasn’t really enough so I wanted to create something a little more bittersweet. The book shows teens in the Palisades with a lack of supervision, a lack of structure, having a wild life, doing whatever they want to do. There’s a lot of adventurous stuff. It’s entertaining and funny, but it’s also kind of sad because of the lack of parental involvement, the loneliness, and the desperation.   ’A lot of the dads are super-successful. They work very hard and they make a lot of money, but their families are not as much [a priority]. And the mothers don’t really know what to do with themselves all day long.’   Today, Pearson, a licensed marriage and family therapist, assists disturbed teens at a Torrance psychiatric facility.   ’I went into therapy at 31,’ he says. ‘I enjoyed that so much that I wanted to do that for other struggling teens.’   He adds that writing ‘One’ was cathartic but ‘not a substitute for real therapy.’   Pearson and the book’s illustrator, Robert E. Richards, grew up in the Palisades together.   ’He lived on Friends Street,’ Pearson recalls. ‘His dad owned Barrington Hardware. We were both in punk rock and New Wave bands. In my book, I gave the bands fake names because I make [members of the real-life counterparts] look a little silly.’   ’I know Mike from Pali Elementary, Paul Revere and PaliHi [class of 1982],’ Richards says. ‘We reconnected on Facebook a year and a half ago. It was a good rekindling of an old friendship. He admired my artwork and asked me if I’d be interested on working on the book.’   Pearson calls Richards’ playful illustrations ‘really funny. I told Robert I wanted the cover to be like a 1970s movie poster for disaster movies [where you have all these characters], like a Mad magazine cover [by Mort Drucker or Jack Davis].’   Richards contributed 19 illustrations, plus covers painted in acrylic. He says his interior illustrations harken back to W. W. Denslow’s pen-and-ink work in the original ‘Wizard of Oz’ books. For the cover, he studied movie posters for ‘It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World’ and those 1970s Irwin Allen disaster films.   ’I enjoyed [‘One Step Beyond’] a lot,’ says Richards, who now lives in West Los Angeles. ‘Reading it, I felt a sense of the person. It was very easy to comprehend. If you know Mike, it’s the way he speaks. And because I was there as a teenager, I knew a lot about what he was speaking on.’   Another Palisadian, Carlota Atlee, edited the self-published book. Pearson insists that its message, while set in Pacific Palisades, is universal.   ’It doesn’t matter if they’re from the Palisades,’ Pearson says. ‘People will relate to the lonely [undertone] underneath the adventures. And people who are into the ’80s will really enjoy it.’

The British are coming, the British are coming! British farce, that is. When Michael Cooney’s ‘Cash on Delivery’ opens on Friday, June 4”courtesy of Theatre Palisades at the Pierson Playhouse, 941 Temescal Canyon Drive”expect a silly good time, says co-producer Martha Hunter. ‘It is a show to just come and laugh and forget the cares of the world,’ Hunter tells the Palisadian-Post. ‘Cash on Delivery’ stars Kelly London, Yvonne Robertson, Dylan Seaton, Philip Bartolf, Richard Little, Dena Jaquillard, Jack Coppoc, Ken Jagosz, Martha Hunter and Robin Jones. ‘We have actors coming from all directions to perform in this well-known English farce,’ Hunter says, ‘from Long Beach all the way up to Oxnard and over to Santa Clarita. Several are from Santa Monica, Playa Del Rey, Brentwood and the Valley, and four have performed at Theatre Palisades before.’ In this production directed by Sherman Wayne and produced by Hunter and Shirley Churgin, mild-mannered Eric Swan has been cheating the Social Security Department for years. What happens when a series of auditors and agents show up unexpectedly at his door? Everything! As in the farce tradition, ‘Cash’ moves at breakneck speed, as complications and misunderstandings tangle and multiply. Author Cooney is a London-raised playwright who currently lives with his wife, Danielle, in Los Angeles, where he also works as a screenwriter (‘Jack Frost’). Other plays by Cooney include ‘Point of Death’ and ‘The Dark Side.’ Cooney’s father, Ray Cooney, was a renowned playwright also known for his farces. ‘We try to have a farce every season since our audience love them,’ Hunter says. ‘We found this one extremely funny with 10 zany characters and very exciting yet challenging special effects. Just reading the play makes people laugh out loud. It is very ‘Fawlty Towers.” As is de rigueur with the farce genre, the comedy is physically demanding on its cast. ‘The rehearsals have been intense and all of the actors have been willing to do almost anything that Sherman throws at us,’ Hunter says. ‘Timing is crucial in any play but especially in a farce. Many of the actors have performed in farces before and love doing them, albeit difficult.’ In addition to directing, Sherman is the set designer, set builder and lighting designer. This particular play presented a unique challenge to the Theatre Palisades veteran. ‘The special effects are very difficult to do,’ Wayne says. ‘It’d be easier on a movie set. We can’t tell you what they are, but when people come and see the show, they will be amazed.’ Wayne and Hunter encourage lovers of broad comedy to come down and enjoy. ‘This is really a family-friendly play although with some innocent sexual innuendos,’ Hunter says. ‘It is really non-stop fun and pretty silly.’ ‘Cash on Delivery’ runs through July 11, Fridays and Saturdays at 8 p.m. and Sunday at 2 p.m. Tickets: Friday and Sunday: Adults $16, seniors and students $1; Saturday: Adults $18, seniors and students $16. Free parking. For reservations, call 310-454-1970; visit www.theatrepalisades.org

A Fun-Filled Weekend at Malibu Beach Inn and in Downtown Santa Monica Does The Trick

Thanks to a weakened economy, weekend getaways have become en vogue. As millions of Americans suddenly find themselves unable to afford (or at least justify parting with their money for) a trip abroad, this has led to a new term: the ‘staycation’; a way of taking a quickie vacation without spending too much. And so, I recently embarked on a staycation of my own, but instead of a jaunt to Santa Barbara or Laguna Beach, this time I stayed straight up Pacific Coast Highway in Malibu, book-ending my weekend with the sights and sounds (and even a celebrity sighting) in downtown Santa Monica. My weekend began, in earnest, with a Monster Burrito (chicken, shrimp, veggies) at Tacos Por Favor on Olympic and 14th. A Palisadian, interior designer Christopher Scott, had introduced me this place, which has become my favorite dive Mexican restaurant in lieu of the dearly departed Tortilla Grill on Abbott Kinney Boulevard. It proved a great staycation starter. Like a beached whale, I decided to spend the night flopping on a beach close to the ocean, and so a mere 15-minute drive north of my Pacific Palisades residence led me to the Malibu Beach Inn, a recently transformed hotel-by-the-sea. ‘This is a jewel on the sea,’ says Jill Allison Jennings, the hotel’s manager. ‘It’s very quaint and intimate.’ The story goes that music mogul and DreamWorks SKG chief David Geffen needed a guest house for his nearby Malibu digs. So rather than have one built, the billionaire plucked the weathered, bright-pink hotel that once stood loudly near the Malibu Pier and refurbished it. Geffen’s classy, upscale version opened its doors in 2007. As the sun began to set, I arrived at Malibu Beach Inn. A party on the dining patio was enjoying some boisterous Saturday night revelry. Perhaps it was a birthday they were celebrating, but this dining party was a dining party. The festive atmosphere put me in good spirits as I checked in. I informed the man at the desk”a friendly Frenchman named Arnaud Inbert”that I was on a staycation, and the concierge informed me that my idea was not altogether original. About 60 percent of the clientele are locals. Now, you might ask, What exactly is the novelty of a Palisadian going up to Malibu for the weekend? Well, to be closer to the sea. See, we Palisadians may have an ocean view, but not one resident of Pacific Palisades can say that his or her house is right on the beach. The Inn is perched at the ocean’s doorstep. When I first arrived inside my room (a Queen Ocean Front Room goes for $485.00 a night), I was greeted by a personal, hand-written note welcoming ‘Mr. Aushenker’ to the establishment. On the coffee table were some complimentary items: a bowl of fruit, a bottle of Waiwera sparkling water from New Zealand. Pacific Palisades-based Intemperantia Chocolates (15324 Antioch) provided the pillow truffles. As I soon took in my surroundings”a comfy, well-organized room with a woodsy interior, A-roof, and automatic fireplace”I felt as if I were staying inside a cozy cabin. It took a trip out to the balcony for a reminder that the big blue sea”not Big Bear””loomed outside. From my suite, I could hear the thunder of waves crashing, which just adds to the coziness’or the insomnia if you’re a light sleeper. But I got used to it. (With the balcony door closed, ocean noise is minimized.) One won’t get cabin fever from staying at one of these ‘cabins,’ for they have been designed for people who are as serious about their work as well as play. Some features include a laptop platform that pulls out of the desk, and an LCD flat-screen with a hinge that allows the screen to be positioned flush from the couch, or pulled out at a 90 degree angle so that it faces perpendicularly to allow for some television-watching from bed. Prints of oil paintings added Southern-California flavor to my room’s interior, including one titled ‘Faithful Companions’ (two unoccupied pool chairs), and ‘Learning to Forget’ (a close-up of a pool ladder with a tree looming through the open window in the background). These Hockneyesque people-free images (with echoes of Eric Fischl) were painted by Glenn Ness, a former Californian now residing in Bend, Oregon. ‘As a young painter, I wanted to fulfill a longing to live in California,’ Ness told the Palisadian-Post from Oregon, ‘so in 1991, I moved my family to the Pasadena area and began the journey toward my profession as an oil painter. R. Kenton Nelson helped me get my first gallery showing with The Mendenhall Gallery in Pasadena in 1994, which sold out. The pool series was my first real success as a painter.’ Ness said he clinched the Malibu Beach Inn gig thanks to David Geffen Company CFO Richard Sherman, a collector of Ness’s work from the Mendenhall days. ‘We spent weeks boiling the images down,’ Ness said. ‘[The final batch resulted from] many conversations with Mr. Sherman, hanging out on the beach in front of the Inn, listening to the waves and observing the slow march of light and shadow throughout the afternoon.’ I planted my music device on the alarm clock radio’s iPod bay and pushed the button by the mantle. With the fireplace flickering, a string of Frank Sinatra’s greatest hits”’It Happened in Monterey’ and ‘Under My Skin”’really completed the mood. After Malibu Beach Inn opened its doors, Geffen brought in executive chef Michelle Francis from the Sunset Marquis in West Hollywood to create the house menu, and I’m happy to report that the quality of the cuisine matched that of my hotel room. For breakfast, the hotel’s Carbon Beach restaurant offers Brioche French toast or Belgian waffles at $12, and smoked salmon with bagels for $16. Two eggs with pancakes and bacon costs $14 and Irish oatmeal half that. But as I had arrived just before sunset, I had an appetite for dinner. Chef Francis’s steak frites ($32) is a spectacular entree; the meat arrives in strips, covered in sauce au poivre, with a side of fries, pommery mustard and a mayonnaise dip. I also ordered the penne Bolognese, a hearty pasta feast at $22, and I tried tasty morsels of the Loch Duart Scottish Salmon ($33). An appetizer of crab cakes (a meal in itself), goes for $15 and is worth every penny, but the topper was the spicy barbeque shrimp quesadilla ($15), a Mexican starter worthy of Baja. ‘Michelle has made the hotel her home,’ said Jennings. ‘The patrons rave about her food and her new seasonal spring/summer menu is outstanding. Her favorite dishes are anything with seafood.’ But nothing will prepare you for Francis’s delicious, freshly baked deep-dish chocolate cookie, heated up in a skillet. My heart melted with every gooey chip I devoured. I also enjoyed their bread pudding while a neighboring diner gave me a thumbs-up when I asked how her classic sundae tasted. (Chef Francis’s desserts run for $9 while room-service desserts such as the ricotta cheesecake, chocolate caramel tart, and warm apple-raspberry crisp, each $11, are imported from my favorite Brentwood eatery, the restaurant/fromagerie Tavern.) By the way, you can party at the Malibu Inn bar (no relation) across the highway as late as you like because the overnight menu offers baked macaroni and cheese ($9), a grilled cheese sandwich ($7), and the Carbon Beach pizza ($13) from 10 p.m. to 7 a.m. The next morning, I overslept, waking up just in time to hit the road. After checkout, it was back to the hustle-and-bustle of downtown Santa Monica, where I hit the beloved Bay Cities Italian Deli, home of the Godmother sandwich, for lunch. Downtown is made for walking, and it’s a good thing I did. As I strolled back to my car, parked near Wilshire and 6th, I spotted a musician from one of my all-time favorite groups. Yes, hunched over his Blackberry, waiting for a take-out order outside Real Food Daily, was Mike D of the Beastie Boys. Of all the places to spot the co-author of such classic songs as ‘Fight for Your Right (to Party),’ ‘Brass Monkey,’ and ‘No Sleep Till Brooklyn,’ I never would have thought of looking around the safe, health-conscious environs of a Westside vegan restaurant. Guess all boys mature eventually”even a Beastie. My chariot awaited, and as I took Ocean Avenue to Chautauqua toward home, I reflected back on a thoroughly enjoyable, low-key weekend. Nice lodging, great food and a nifty celebrity sighting: Not bad for a vacation so close to the nest. Michael@palipost.com