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Mad, Merr
M
a
The cradle of the beach pajama and the home of the $5,000-a-week beachcomber. The most interesting and goofiest stretch of sand in the world, where the antics of the stars make the sea-gulls dizzy
Malibu — the craziest community in the world, bounded on the south by Wesley Ruggles and on the north by Connie Bennett. That's her shack nearest to you. The road is from Hollywood. Stars go here to "get away from it all," and build their houses this close together. Note garages and tennis courts in back of homes
MALIBU. Hey, hey. A row of houses on a sandy shore. Bound by Connie Bennett on the north and Wesley Ruggles on the south. With Louise Fazenda smack in the middle. The spray ground of the stars. Hollywood gone pajama. The gay, hysterical Hollywood of old, moved twenty miles north and twenty times goofier.
The place where stars go to get away from it all only to get in deeper and slightly wet to boot. And love it.
"What's become of the good old Hollywood?" incoming writers mourn. "The gay, mad spirit that made Hollywood, Hollywood? Where is it?''
Calm down, stranger. It's still here. Just a few miles farther north on a damp and sandy shore. All here. Everything, including Lew Cody.
40
Hi there, Malibu.
A half mile stretch of delirium tremens architecture along an astounded Pacific Ocean.
Even the fish can't get over it. And the sea-gulls fly dizzily around. Squawking for help and a bit more imported caviar.
Where people build seventy-five thousand dollar houses on a thirty foot lot they can never own. And pay a dollar a day for the privilege.
The freak property of the world.
"What, sell my land," cries the owner, "when people, hundreds of people, pay me one dollar every day just for the privilegeoflivingonit? For just ten years? Beyourladylikeself."
Malibu. Where everything is dated from the fires.
"Now, let's see. When was it Jack got his divorce from