Monday night started innocently enough, meeting the Mormons of Santa Monica, crowding a few tables at a Westwood restaurant, ordering appetizers all around and catching up on the gossip on people I’d never heard of or met before.
Across the street you could buy ice cream sandwiches for a buck. Crazy UCLA kids, they’ve got it so good.
Broek meets a lot of people, and sometimes the people she meets are second (maybe third?) generation hippies that live on top of mountains overlooking all of the world.
It wasn’t easy getting to the top of the world. It was a winding drive up Topanga Canyon, and then, after passing these dark gates (later on we’d find they were bought at an auction in London)
We encountered all sorts of shapes in the darkness that flash photographs would reveal to be things like an old, old Rolls Royce
Or an old empty pool
Or a brass deer
Or maybe statues of all varieties (but mostly of the “from an old church” sort)
or a Be-vased water towers that turned out to be homes.
But the main attraction was a gazebo with a firepit and a view I’ll never forget
A little flash photography reveals the paintjob the gazebo had received. Up there, on top of the universe, you can play your music as loud as you like.
This chap on the left is Max, he’s the master of the house whilst his father lives in Panama, swimming in the 80 degree waters everyday with the monkeys and the parrots. You’ll never meet a more gracious host than this Max
Being up there was something amazing. I wish you all could have come with us. Here's the "official website" on the place.
In real life, it's Monday now, and I'm back in New York, dealing with a Noah situation in my apartment.