Au revoir for now

    0
    210

    We’re getting ready to go on vacation Friday, so it’s difficult to ponder the petty problems of Malibu when we’re on our way to Paris.

    Nevertheless, I’ll try, if only because it’s going to be my last shot for a couple of weeks to gripe and I don’t want anyone to get too relaxed.

    As you can see from our lead story this week, the City of Malibu, via their Building and Safety Officer Vic Peterson, sent out two 60-day letters to two of Malibu’s biggest landlords, the Malibu Bay Company and Koss Real Estate Investments, who together own a great deal of the Civic Center.

    The message to both was essentially similar. Your septic systems are not working properly (failed is the word they used in one letter) and you’ve got 60 days to come up with a plan about how you’re going to fix it.

    You don’t have to be a sanitary engineer to know there’s a septic problem in Malibu. Heck, your sense of smell will tell you that.

    It’s also no coincidence, in my mind, that these letters went out just about the time the governor signed Assembly Bill 885, a “get tough and let’s develop some standards on septic systems law,” and also about the same time the Regional Water Quality Control Board went upside our head, as they say, about what they view as our somewhat lackadaisical attitude toward some of our not-so-great septic systems.

    This battle is really just in the opening stages, and it plays out in a dozen different directions. But one thing you can be sure about: We’re all going to spend a lot more money to upgrade our septic systems in the next few years. And there probably is going to be a lot of talk about the dreaded S _ _ _ _ word for all the commercial areas, and maybe even some of the older, geologically iffy residential areas.

    Being good journalists, we, of course, asked the city government for all the details. They, of course, responded like bureaucrats everywhere: This is not available public information. When we tried to interview Peterson, who issued and signed both 60-day letters, he told us department heads are not allowed to talk to the press, which brings me to gripe No. 2.

    There are lots of ways a city can pursue a press policy, but not allowing people to speak probably rates as about the dumbest way.

    So for gratis, while I’m gone, I’m going to give them some totally unsolicited advice to chew on, in hopes, after I return rested and mellow, they won’t do anything stupid to destroy my good mood.

    Like it or not, for most politicians and bureaucrats, having the press around is like having a tiger wandering around in your backyard. You have a choice. You can have a well-fed tiger laying around because it’s being fed regularly, or you can have a hungry tiger looking for its next meal. We reporters typically are a lazy lot and are easily fed. Only a fool declines the opportunity to feed us. Apparently Malibu is that kind of a fool.

    The “feed the tiger, or it’s going to eat you” rule applies whether you’re running for president of the United States or pushing a local ballot initiative. In fact, our biggest problem as journalists is trying not to rely on official handouts and going out to dig up our own sources.

    The most fun I ever had running this paper was after an earlier incoming City Council decided they were going to freeze out The Malibu Times because we had backed their opponents in the election. They simply refused to talk to us, so we simply started going to all the meetings and then calling everyone who was unhappy. Needless to say, the “No comment” baloney didn’t last very long because they found out we don’t need their cooperation to cover the news. In fact, sometimes their cooperation is really an impediment.

    So when I get back, I’m going to ask the council to change the rule, which several insist doesn’t even exist. If they don’t, well, we’ll worry about that later.

    P.S. See you all in a few weeks. If there is anything you want to talk to us about, call our Associate Editor Laura Tate at ext. 109. She’s running the shop in my absence.