Comments
ERIC PREVEN’S NOTEBOOK - “Let your soul and spirit fly into the mystic…”
Van Morrison’s tune always plays in my head as I hit the Malibu shore, where the Pacific’s pulse carries the ghosts of the Chumash. These beaches—LA County’s public gems—are pure magic. In a fair world, every Angeleno could park along the Pacific Coast Highway, ditch their shoes, and walk the sand.
But fairness isn’t on the menu. Instead, you get a $98 ticket for parking near a hidden hydrant, straddling a sneaky line, or missing a sign designed to trip you up. Paradise? Yeah, with a side of predation.
For 35 years, I’ve swum this coast, from Zuma’s crash to Point Dume’s whisper. I’ve seen the scam tighten. Beach day with your kids? Pack exact change, a magnifying glass, and a prayer. Malibu’s parking game isn’t a glitch—it’s a goldmine. Summer rolls in, and the City hires contracted ticket hawks—not to guide you, but to gut you. Red lines stretch like lies overnight. Hydrants lurk in overgrown weeds.
I got nailed once where a line and a sign contradicted each other—a classic trap. I fought it, armed with photos, testimony, and a hearing’s worth of stubborn. I won. But the line’s still wrong. The game’s still rigged.
Coastal access and citations up the ying yang...
This isn’t just about parking. It’s about our coast—public, sacred—being privatized inch by inch. Pandemic days saw beachfront tycoons drop orange cones like territorial pisses, claiming the shore. Not city cones. Private fictions. Move one, and you’d catch a glare or worse. The commons, eroding like a sandcastle at high tide.
And this erosion isn’t metaphorical. In recent years, more than 300 homes along the Malibu coast and hills have burned down. The land has suffered. So have the people. But if we want to rebuild trust between city and resident, between host and visitor, we must stop making a visit to Malibu feel like running a bureaucratic gauntlet.
Once, I even found a Rolex in the sand and did everything right—contacted the city, filed a report, and notified the local paper. That’s Malibu. Glitter and absurdity. But mostly it’s the ocean.
Then there’s the Malibu Triathlon. Once a feel-good charity splash, it became a branded endurance expo where Disney, Paramount, Herbalife, and friends competed in Lycra while the public picked up the tab. Michael Epstein Sports Productions (MESP), a for-profit operator, was making bank, charging $20 a pop for beach parking on our public land.
It took relentless pressure—including my own—for LA County and Gary Jones at Beaches and Harbors to finally do the math. MESP begrudgingly returned $65,000 in parking revenue. A symbolic refund, not reform. Today, the event’s been scaled down under a new name, but Epstein’s still at the helm. And the model—fundraising on taxpayer sand while studios and sponsors get comped and everyday Angelenos get fined—is still intact.
If anyone deserves free parking and access, it’s the public. Not the production crew, not the branding consultants.
Now, speed cameras are coming to PCH, flashing for “safety.” Sure. But who picks the targets? Who sets the triggers? A $300 fine for hitting 71 on a safe downhill? Count on it. Tesla barons, autopilot on cruise? Probably not.
Dystopia doesn’t barge in—it slinks, with a flash and a letter in your mailbox.
I’ve fought this war. Flagged sheriffs. Emailed Public Works. Faced hearing examiners. I begged for one clear sign on Malibu Road to warn of the hydrant trick. “Fix the red line’s deceit,” I wrote. “We’ve got enough problems.” Silence. The cones return. The tickets pile. Reform fades unless you chase it like a rogue wave.
Ai Weiwei said: “I call on people to be ‘obsessed citizens,’ forever questioning and asking for accountability. That’s the only chance we have today of a healthy and happy life.”
Damn right. What’s the alternative? Letting our coast become a gated fiefdom? Letting charity mask grift? Letting our beaches get sliced up by cones, arrows, and paid-for privilege?
Malibu isn’t just a place—it’s a coast that remembers. The spirit of the Chumash isn’t a mural or branding slogan—it’s the original warning. You cannot take from the land what was never yours.
So maybe it’s not just about guarding the coast—it’s about remembering who the coast was stolen from.
And refusing to let them do it again, one parking ticket at a time.
Then, as the lifeguard boat glides by between four and five, I take a swim in that majestic water. I keep one eye on the horizon… and the other on the shore.
Chumash.
LEAKED MEMO: The Krekorian Tour Is Not for Civilians
Earlier this week, an agent from the City’s Emergency Management Department left a message, politely asking about the City Hall docent program. Sweet. Misguided. She wanted the inside track—a special tour, ideally led by Council President Paul Krekorian himself.
But let’s be clear: a Krekorian-led tour is not a tour—it’s an experience.
Courtside at Crypto for the Olympics.
PowerPoint with gravitas.
A upper-level seminar in bureaucratic bullying.
Naturally, someone tried to pull strings. We’ve obtained a leaked memo from political consultant Eric Ha__ian, asking Krekorian to give the full magilla to a handful of unnamed foreign dignitaries—and in the process, dropping a devastating forecast for the 2026 mayoral race.
Bass, Caruso, Horvath, Mejia, Raman... and one REDACTED who may just steal the whole damn show.
You can read the memo below. Or better yet, sign up for the Smart Speaker™ Tour of City Hall—the only tour that includes a simulated Brown Act violation and a complimentary ethics investigation of your favorite elected.
CONFIDENTIAL — EYES ONLY (this could not be verified)
From: Eric Ha__ian
To: 1q wPaul Krekorian
Subject: Special Tour Request / 2026 Forecast
Date: July 14, 2025
Paul,
This is one of those just say yes notes.
I’ve got a small diplomatic cohort in town—no names, no press, no agenda except a fascination with how Los Angeles manages to function (sort of). I need them to walk through City Hall. Not by the protocol staff. By you.
Give them the full Krekorian: the Greatest Hits. Tell them how you rightsized the budget hearings with one hand and blocked a condo tower with the other. Show them the rotunda, the Thomas Guide drawer, the stairwell where Huizar cried (allegedly). This is the civic pageantry they flew 12 hours to see. You do this, Paul, and I will be eternally grateful and a forever Friend of Krekorian. You know I never forget favors.
Now—on to 2026.
This race is already out of hand.
Bass is clinging to incumbency with a press release and a fire-safety calendar. Caruso is airlifting attack ads in from Santa Barbara. Raman is stuck in a cul-de-sac of good intentions and bad PR. Mejia is livestreaming again. And Horvath—dear Lindsey—is running away from G on Michael Weinstein’s money and Nika Soon-Shiong’s group chat.
And then there’s REDACTED.
I won’t say the name. You already know it.
She’s 29. She’s magnetic. She’s walking into rooms with UTLA at her back and youth turnout in her pocket. If she gets past June, it’s over.
The real danger is that no one steps aside. Not Caruso, not Horvath, not even Bass. And then the runoff is locked: Caruso vs. REDACTED.
That’s billionaire fatigue versus ungovernable hope. And you and I both know who wins that one.
Do the tour, Paul. You are the Docent, dust off your tales. These folks are watching what LA is—and trying to guess what comes next. So are we.
All respect,
Eric Ha__ian
Private Line: REDACTED
Board of Supervisors Promo video during closed session.
Item 33 – Money Laundering Task Force: Greenlighting the Paper Trail
The Sheriff wants to lock in a Memorandum of Understanding with the FBI to keep the LA County Money Laundering Task Force humming. That means signing off on reimbursement agreements and giving blanket authorization to tweak and renew as needed. It’s less about high drama, more about laundering the red tape—so long as the money gets followed and not just filed.
Item 34 – Financial Crimes Task Force: Now With OC Flair
Here’s the companion MOU, also with the FBI, for the Southern California Financial Crimes Task Force—a joint effort with Orange County. The goal? Crack down on financial fraud, Ponzi schemes, and wire fraud. But with “automatic renewals” and “ongoing reimbursement,” you might wonder if the real expertise is in the paperwork. Still, in an era of crypto grift and COVID relief fraud, collaboration counts.
Item 35 – Sheriff’s World Cup Badge Program: Official, Limited Edition, Badge-ified
The 2026 FIFA World Cup is coming, and the Sheriff’s Department wants in—at least in the badge department. This item allows deputies to wear commemorative FIFA badges for two months and lets the official vendor, Smith & Warren, sell them retail using County insignia. Officers get to keep their badges after the tournament—souvenirs with a badge of authority. No cost to taxpayers, but the symbolism runs deep: global branding meets local policing.
(Eric Preven is a Studio City-based TV writer-producer, award-winning journalist, and longtime community activist who won two landmark open government cases in California.)
