THE LOS ANGELES FIRES

First of all, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate so many of you checking on Mr. X and me during this horrific time. Your caring was a bit of light shining through the darkness for me. And, though close in proximity to all the sadness, we are safe.

I’m so sorry to those of you who were looking for my review of last Sunday’s Golden Globes, which I had promised for today. It was all ready to go, but, in the face of what people are going through from the many catastrophic fires in and around Los Angeles, I just could not publish something frivolous right now. So I’ll find another date for it down the line, when a bit of frivolity will be not only appreciated, but needed.

This whole fire situation is so incredibly devastating. I doubt that any of us can possibly fathom how the very many people who have lost their houses and all their possessions are feeling. The Palisades Fire is now the third most destructive wildfire in California history! The images I’ve seen look downright apocalyptic.

It just hit us last night that we will never see our beloved Pacific Coast Highway looking the same ever again. That area means so much to us. Coming down PCH from Big Sur as a New York teen-ager just visiting California is what made me begin loving LA! It was the first time I felt I could breathe in the month of so that I had traveled cross-country from my home in Brooklyn. As some of you may know, I go up the coast past Malibu on my July 27th anniversary with LA every year, just to come back down it and view the beautiful area through retro eyes. And Mr. X lived in Malibu for several years before we got together, so that place is really special to him. The beachfront eatery Moonshadows is actually the first nice restaurant he ever took me as soon as he went from a starting-out actor to a successful one, when we were just friends, and it became our romantic one down the line. And now it’s no longer there. The realization last night that PCH and Malibu will never look the same to us was crushing.

I hate when people say that the residents who are so fiercely damaged by the tragedy are mainly rich ones, so they’ll be fine. But this tragic situation is far from about money. What kills me the most is that they’ve lost photos. And family heirlooms. And awards. And favorite possessions. Finances are the least of it. (And by the way, most insurance companies will not insure houses in this area just because of the possibility of fires! It’s awful. I know this for a fact because Mr. X and I just went through it a few months ago. There’s mainly one statewide place that offers fire insurance, but brokers advise their clients not to take it because the company won’t have enough money to cover the costs if there are many losses, as is happening now. Here’s one article about it from ten months ago, if you’d like to know more: www.propertycasualty360.com/2024/03/18/californias-insurer-of-last-resort-unprepared-for-big-disaster/?slreturn=20250109145529.)

And then there’s the complete and utter hassle of the situation, for everyone involved. Of having to find or build another abode. And furnish it.  And buy all new clothes for your entire family. And medicines. And supplies. It goes on and on. More and more problems and conundrums keep getting presented to us: Will people even want to rebuild there? What about the land condition? What about the safety of even working in the area—gas leaks, using the water, structures falling down on people’s heads?

It’s not just the homes of the famous people that are lost. There have been at least a half dozen major fires in and around Los Angeles this week. Most of those have displaced people who are far from wealthy. They had not much before, and now they have less than nothing, monetarily and materially. The description of “sad” doesn’t even begin to cover what they’re going through, and will continue to deal with for years to come!

My head and heart hurt for everyone involved. (Except for all the contractors who are licking their chops to get beaucoup work and most likely overcharge all these unfortunate and desperate souls.)

I hope I’m making sense here—I can barely write intelligently about the devastation that my city has been going through since Tuesday. Mr. X and I have hardly slept since Monday night; we’re a few miles in-between three of the major fires—Pacific Palisades and Runyon Canyon (the Sunset Fire) and the one in Studio City, (I’ve lost track of their monikers at this point.) So we’ve been basically standing at attention all week, in case we have to evacuate. It got very scary for us on the second night. There were two new fires, with the evacuation warning area creeping ever closer to us. (Thank goodness it ended just a couple of minutes away!)  By the evening, there were three fires within six-eight miles from our house!

And then yesterday, we got an evacuation warning alert to get ready to go! We panicked. We had already packed some essentials the first day, but now I was just frozen in time, and asking all the neighbors what to do. And then a half hour later, we received another alert that said basically never mind! It was all so frightening. So, between that lack of shuteye and concern for all the people who have been directly affected, I can’t think straight enough to write really well right now.

I actually have personal relationships with all three main local fires, which makes it harder to picture them decimated. I’ll tell you about what Pacific Palisades means to me on my January 14th birthday next week, because it pertains to that day, but I have to share one thing about a part of that town now, to remind you to not put things off. There’s a lovely outdoor shopping center there, called The Village, which opened in September 2018. Mr. X and I have been to it several times, most notably on a few Fourth of Julys, on the way down to see fireworks, and again for the Christmas Tree Lighting, which is beautiful. I wanted to go this December again for that latter one, but just got busy with other holiday season events. So I said the usual, “We’ll do it again next year.” And now we don’t know if that will ever be a possibility again. So one of the lessons I’m reminded of from this current supreme nightmare is—don’t put things off! We all need to learn that one. [Note: I’m not sure how much of this place burned. I’ve seen conflicting reports that parts of it are gone, most of it is gone, and all of it is intact due to either smarts or selfishness of the owner of the venue.]

Now I have to pay small tributes to two of the other main fire areas with which I have somewhat of a connection:

Even though Runyon Canyon is a major hiking area not far from me, (about six miles away,) I’ve been there only a few times. And the first was so magical that I remember it always. I was invited to a “living art” exhibition, and I couldn’t imagine what that could possibly be on a hiking trail. It turned-out that as you walked up to the top and back down, there were artists doing different things at many of the junctures. For example, at one place there were people juggling, at another there were dancers in clown outfits, and in yet another there was a painter who was actually working on a canvas right in front of everybody! And it was all silent. I felt like I was in a Fellini film! To this day, it was one of the most memorable events of my life—so simple, yet so unexpected and effective.

As to the fire that they’re calling the Eaton Fire, one of the cities it’s affecting is Sierra Madre, an area which frequent readers of this e-zine know I love. The Sierra Madre Playhouse is charming, and I even just wrote about all the incredible Christmas decorations at the nearby Hastings Ranch. So I pray that all those are still there when the massive fire is finally contained.

I have one final big note for everyone. And that is that if, God forbid, bite my tongue, you ever have to evacuate with children, please, please, please remember to pack their stuffed animals. I can’t tell you how comforting those inanimate (to parents) little pals are! I, who presents as a grown-up, have found the past few nights hard to sleep without my three best buds—Froggy, Doggie, and Odie, (for “Other Dog”)—because they’re actually the very first items I packed when we thought we’d have to evacuate on that first day of the fires. (For more on the importance of stuffed animals, this is what I wrote on the subject a few years ago, which is good for everyone to know right now: itsnotaboutme.tv/news/healthkarens-tips-the-health-and-soul-boosts-of-stuffed-animals.)

And by the way—I think it’s good of the LA Chargers to be donating to the cause. But only $200,000? They could easily afford a million!!! If Jaime Lee Curtis can contribute that amount herself, a professional sports team should be able to! Just sayin’.

Please everyone—stay safe out there. Always.