It happens every spring,–no, not baseball–the annual ballet school recital. Well, this one was actually on the weekend after the summer solstice, but they must have needed time to polish this production. Ballet, tap, modern, jazz, funk and hip-hop in 30 numbers with about a hundred dancers, from tiny tots to very well schooled teens. Three performances–for all but the littlest kids, who did just the two matinees–filled Pepperdine’s Smothers Theatre with parents, grandparents and friends supporting students of Ciara Dance Studio in Woodland Hills.

I went because my friend’s just-turned-5-year-old granddaughter was making her debut. Having been through this routine with my own granddaughter at about the same age–different studio, same routine–I figured it would be all pink tutus and scuffed slippers, tights with runs up the back and artlessly applied makeup on tykes who hadn’t quite mastered the steps. I figured wrong.

This was a class act. Start to finish. Costumes were smashing, not made by loving hands at home, but happily paid for by moms who hadn’t touched the old Singer in years. The designer must have known the dancers, their strengths and weaknesses, because the effect was perfect. One group, with a few given to preteen pudginess, sported shiny yellow overalls with green tops that stopped just below where the bust line would soon be and a fringe just long enough to cover the poochy tummies.

A show stopper early in Act One was “Broadway Baby,” performed by 10 little girls from the Pre-Ballet and Tap II classes, who were escorted onstage while the lights were dimmed so they would all be on their marks when the lights came up. Well, the last little doll at stage left wasn’t quite sure she wanted to be left out there and started to exit just as the lights came up and the music started. Slightly bewildered but trapped in the spotlight, she looked at the next dancer in line and made valiant attempts to follow the steps, inevitably turning the wrong way.

It was hilarious. The applause was deafening. She was obviously relieved to have survived without falling or bumping into anyone, oblivious to the laughter and to the fact she had successfully upstaged the others. She was a big hit.

I always go to these things knowing I will at least enjoy the music: Classical for ballet, show tunes for tap and jazz for modern. I cringed when I first saw the program included several hip-hop numbers. Not my beat, so to speak.

Wrong again. The hip-hop numbers were fantastic, the energy palpable, and the joy infectious. Youngsters who lacked the finesse, the lithe bodies, the rigorous training to do ballet, poured their enthusiasm into this most modern of dance forms. Forget the pirouettes, the tour jetes, Tchaikovsky, the swans. They were jivin’ and loving every minute of it.

Every troupe has a star, and this was no exception. From the opening jazz number, “Lean on Me,” one girl stood out. Not because her tan was a shade darker, her legs a bit longer, her arms the most graceful, but because she was so focused, so part of the music, so completely in the moment. It was no surprise when she returned with the advanced ballet dancers, her leg lifts the highest, her leaps the longest, and all with effortless grace.

We learned at intermission that she is Cara Lynn McGee, daughter of the school’s guiding light, Cindy McGee, who directed and produced the show and choreographed most of the ballet. Cara has been accepted on a full scholarship at the Dance Theatre of Harlem and will be a freshman at Columbia in the fall.

I remembered seeing the movie, “Billy Elliot,” about the son of a coal miner discovering ballet when he was supposed to be taking prize-fighting lessons. How he loved to dance to popular music, tried to learn to play his dead mother’s piano. How the ballet teacher recognized his gift, coached him for nothing and fought his father to allow him to audition for the Royal Ballet Academy. After his audition, one of the judges asked him what he felt when he danced. He said it was like electricity moving through him. No wonder he didn’t want to box, he just had to dance.

For every 5,000 kids learning the time-step and the waltz clog, maybe one will be a Gene Kelly or a Fred Astaire. Maybe only one who hoists a leg up on the barre will become a Baryshnikov or a Nureyev. Still, the urge to move to the music, to be transported by the movement, maybe to feel the electricity, is too strong to resist. Some may wind up in the chorus; a few may become principal dancers with major companies. But as long as there are dance programs in schools and dedicated teachers at local studios, a few will find their bliss. Cara McGee is definitely on her way.

With all the vitriol that is directed towards the Los Angeles law enforcement community, I would like to describe a very positive experience that I encountered.

I live in the Las Flores Canyon area and was considering installing electric gate motors on my entry gates. A local worker who was known around the neighborhood, happened to meet two iron workers while hitch-hiking up the hill. Knowing that I might consider hiring them to do my gate motors, he brought them by to meet me. They came in a truck with a welding machine on the back and a logo on the door panel. They gave me a quick bid which was very low, but when I described in fuller detail what I needed I was told that they would need to consult their catalogue at the office before giving me a firm bid.

The next day they called back with a bid of $3,000, a very reasonable bid, and if I would have been thinking, too reasonable. I told them I would like to go forward and they came out the next day with a contract on company stationary and my wife gave them a deposit of $1,500 to begin. This was on a Saturday, and they told me they would begin work the following Wednesday.

On Tuesday they called to tell me the motors had not come in and they would be delayed to Friday. That was the last I heard from them. I tried calling the numbers on the invoice, only to find them disconnected, and despite leaving messages on the pager number that I had been given, I got no response. I called information to try and track down the company but could find nothing listed.

I honestly thought that the money was gone and had little hope that the police would give such a small matter much attention. I was totally wrong!

My only lead was the check that had been written to them in the company’s name. My bank supplied me a copy of the check and I took it to the Lost Hills Sheriff’s Station to file a fraud complaint. The officer at the station told me that they would send someone to my home to take the report. A few hours later, a female deputy arrived and took the report. She told me someone would contact me in a few days.

Two days later, a Detective Stindler called and told me he had traced the company’s address through the bank records, and had gone to the location and confronted the owner regarding the situation. He told me that they would be dropping a check by my home the next day. Still skeptical, I was surprised when the man who had given me the bid came by in the early evening with a check from the company making me whole. Unfortunately, the check never cleared the bank. A valid phone number was on the check and I called the company, getting assurances that the check would clear the next day. Ten days later it still had not cleared.

I called Detective Stindler to update him on the situation. He told me that it was ridiculous that I should have to keep calling the bank to see if the check would clear and that he would contact the company again and insist on them delivering a cash refund. A week later the worker showed up with the cash.

I can’t say enough to express how appreciative I was of the work done by all involved in the Sheriff’s Department and the courtesy that I was afforded in dealing with this matter.

Howard Ziehm

Despite his great insights into the human mind, Sigmund Freud died at the age of 83, a bitter and disillusioned old man who proved unable to sustain his friendships. He wrote, “I have found little that is good about the human beings on the whole.” Sigmund never spent a weekend at Malibu Bluffs Park or he would have found camaraderie.

The Malibu/Lost Hills Disaster Communications Service of the Los Angeles Sheriffs Department spent the weekend of June 23-24th engaged in a yearly 24-hour disaster drill simulating emergency communications during a major crisis. I had the opportunity, as a supervisor during this exercise, to talk to numerous Bluffs Park visitors over a two-day period and was pleasantly stunned with their openness, friendliness and sharing regarding their interest in the disaster drill, emergency radio equipment and the Malibu Bluffs Park in general. Few, if any of the individuals I talked with were from Malibu. Malibuites, it seems, seldom venture past the ball fields and the Michael Landon building.

I ascertained that the recreational area visitors felt that the Malibu Bluffs Park was well maintained (no trash here) and abounded with friendly folks and a family atmosphere. Their favorite spot is the Whale and Dolphin Watching Station and the visitors were shocked at the prospect of losing the Malibu Bluffs Park in its current format.

Chatting with a disabled wheel chair bound man viewing the ocean at the Whale Watching Point in the park, I observed tears build up in his eyes when I informed him that he would be loosing his favorite weekend haven from his city apartment. I regretted breaking the news to him as he made it clear to me what an important part of his life this ocean lookout was. Did I know, he asked me, that this was the only purposely designed disabled and handicap accessible whale watching and ocean monitoring spot in the entire Southern California area and, he went on, maybe the entire state of California? He knew, from experience, what a significant position the Malibu Bluffs Park plays in people’s lives.

He asked if California State Parks Director Rusty Areias knew how much this park means to the populace and stated, “Is Rusty wearing blinders?” Maybe Mr. Areias is unaware that the disabled regularly use the park.

Another park visitor, when told of the park’s eventual fate declared, “that the elimination of the park in its current form ensures that Malibu and its ocean beauty only belong to the rich.” Maybe he should have added, and the “able bodied.”

And that is all I have to say.

Tom Fakehany

An ebullient Malibu City Council came bouncing out of Monday night’s council meeting after taking only 90 minutes to unanimously adopt a budget, which for this town, is historic.

But the devil may be in the details. It’s typically easy to do the budget job after a good revenue year–and this has been a good year because it’s based on last year’s revenues and wonderful weather. The next year may not be quite as bright as the economy slows or the weather cycle turns.

Next time, if the economy heads down and the tax revenues drop, the city may have to make some hard choices, and there may be some big ones on the horizon.

A community center is probably going to set us back $5 million plus for the building alone, unless we make a deal, and then you add in the cost of the land. The city hall will probably cost easily that much plus the cost of the land. We need a slew of ball fields, which means we have to buy or trade for the land and build and maintain the fields. And there’s some momentum building for the city to help bail out the schools.

The City of Santa Monica, which has roughly 80 percent of the students in our district, puts in $3 million to the schools. If Malibu puts in an equivalent amount, the city’s share would be $750,000. But Malibu has only put in a fraction of that, and I’ve heard grumbling from our neighbors in Santa Monica about what they view as our rather puny contribution.

I’ve even heard talk of a local education initiative here in Malibu to set aside a certain percentage of the annual budget for the schools. San Francisco does it, so why not us? There is an open space/wetlands/animal rights contingent, which also wants a chunk of the money.

These kinds of demands are not unusual. Malibu is maturing as a city and its demographics are changing, with more children, and it now has municipal needs.

On the other side of the ledger, the city is just beginning to look at how it spends its dollars. Some institutions, which receive city subsidies, may come under closer scrutiny, especially ones with major expense items like the sheriff’s budget.

Residents can look forward to a bunch of claims against what may be a diminishing pot of dollars in the near future and some knock down battles over what could be a scarcity unless the city is willing to make deals, pass bonds, allow commercial revenue generators–like hotels or B&Bs–or find lots of grant money or a combination of all of the above.

So I guess it’s OK for the council members to pat themselves on the back, but I wouldn’t get too comfortable if I were them.

The Civic Center guidelines

Several years ago a previous council appointed a blue ribbon committee to design a master plan for the Civic Center area. Some very good people spent a couple of years, endless meetings, and several hundred thousand dollars on consultants’ time to design what is called a Civic Center specific plan. They ceremoniously delivered it to the council and the council did what councils usually do with those kinds of blue ribbon reports–they put it on the shelf and promptly forget about it.

Well now, there are a bunch of separate developers who have come to the city, each with plans for their piece of the Civic Center. The city can only stall for so long, but, ultimately, it has to decide something.

City staff, at the behest of the council, said, “This is crazy and chaotic and we need some rules.” The idea was to give developers a general idea of what the city wanted, or at least would accept, so the Civic Center would have some sort of overall plan or look. The problem is that some people have a totally different idea of what they want for the Civic Center. Some want to see the Civic Center underwater, so they figure that any planning will move it toward development, which they oppose pretty much in its entirety. So they’re doing everything they can to thwart any serious planning in hopes they can make it a hot political issue and elect a new council that will then use public monies to oppose everything.

The council has sent the hot potato–the guidelines–back to the land-use subcommittee of Jeff Jennings and Joan House with instructions, I believe, to perform a miracle that makes everyone happy. It isn’t going to happen. So, ultimately, we the voters are going to have to decide if we want to dig in and try and avoid all Civic Center development, or if we want to work out a compromise.

The danger, of course, is that if we can’t agree on a compromise, it’s all going to court.

And, ultimately, a judge is going to get to design our Civic Center, just the way the Coastal Commission is drawing up our Local Coastal Plan.

He lived in an oversized cowshed that was converted into a home for his three sisters, brother, parents and himself. No running water, no electricity, no gas. Just living off what nature gave them.

And he says his life was hugely blessed because of that.

Actor Dennis Weaver has, indeed, seemingly lived a blessed life–a career in acting that has spanned more than 50 years, a marriage for as long as that, three sons he is proud of and a strong hope to leave the planet in good condition for future generations.

Many people may know him as Sam McCloud from the “McCloud” television series, or as Chester from TV’s “Gunsmoke,” or even as the Great Western Bank spokesman–a man you can trust.

Chronicling his life and his work is Weaver’s autobiography, “All The World’s a Stage,” to be published by Hampton Roads in October.

“It is, it truly is,” laughs Weaver, tall and slender, who just turned 77. “And we’re all playing different parts, in this huge drama. I call it, this great soap opera of God’s. It’s important that we think of it in those terms, and not take it too seriously.”

As to why he wrote the book, Weaver says, “I thought I had something important to say.” Again laughing, he adds, “People may differ with me.”

“I also wanted to leave something to my kids and my grandchildren about the kind of life I experienced when I was young,” he says, on a more serious note. “I thought it was important that they had some kind of documentation about what went on in the days of the Depression, and the days in the War (W.W.II).”

Weaver, who served in the Naval Air Core in W.W.II, says his book is in three parts.

“I hesitate to call it an autobiography,” he explains, “because there’s so much of my life that isn’t in the book.”

The three parts, however, chronicle three very important aspects of Weaver’s life growing up during the Depression and his early days in show biz– “How I got started, the pitfalls, the obstacles, and the barriers you have to overcome” — his philosophy about life and spirituality, and his current endeavor to help build a “sustainable future.”

The formation of an environmentalist

During the depression years, Weaver’s parents had bought a 10-acre piece of property 10 miles outside of Joplin, Missouri, where he was born.

“The purpose was to grow our food, so we would have something to sustain ourselves, to eat,” says Weaver, “and that was probably, as I look back on it, one of the greatest blessings I ever had because I got an opportunity to work with the soil, to grow things, and to see how nature worked.”

This love of nature has been with Weaver his whole life. And with the understanding that “most people grow up without any awareness, without any connection, really strong connection to nature,” Weaver has set out to educate, enjoin and encourage people to help build a sustainable economy, one that will help businesses, but also not harm the environment.

His Institute of Ecolonomics is based on this idea. “That’s what our entire mission is,” he explains, “to give a planet for future generations that is healthy and clean, and a place [where] they can live creative, productive lives.”

And this is where hydrogen comes in, he explains.

“Most every environmental problem we have, plus our own personal health, plus tax payer dollars to clean up messes, all that can be traced to our addiction to fossil fuels, to our addiction to oil, to gasoline. It’s the energy that we use to fuel our economy that is the problem,” says Weaver.

An energy source that is clean, inexhaustible, and economically feasible, Weaver believes, is hydrogen.

In an effort to raise awareness about the possibilities of hydrogen, this fall Weaver plans to drive a hydrogen-powered car from Los Angeles to Washington, D.C., first stopping in Denver, Colo. to attend a worldwide hydrogen congress.

“Ecolonomics is a stool,” Weaver explains, as to the push for political involvement in the use of hydrogen energy, “and any stool that’s worth its salt must have three legs for it to work, and the three legs of ecolonomics are: education, business and government.”

Partners

By his side in all his work is Weaver’s wife, Gerry, who on this Friday afternoon, hovered in the background, occasionally interjecting comments about his singing and other abilities.

In addition to acting, she proudly claims that he has recorded several albums.

“I think of myself as a performer,” Weaver says demurely. He took up singing as a challenge, he says, as his “whole family is very musical. I had to become musical just to defend myself.”

Asked how he and Gerry met, Weaver, in his low-key humorous way, says, “Ah, it’s all in the book.”

Their meeting involved a sock hop, short skirt and red tights, and twirling. “I saw those red tights, and it was a done deal,” laughs Weaver, along with Gerry, and Julian Meyers, Weaver’s publicist, who faithfully sat by as the interview was conducted.

50 years in Hollywood

Weaver’s acting career began in a church Christmas program when he was 4 years old.

“I was supposed to recite Little Jack Horner,” recalls Weaver. “I did, I prepared for that. I got up and said, ‘Little Jack Horner sat in the corner eating his Christmas pie. He stuck in his thumb and pulled out a plum and said, what a good boy I am.’

“The audience just roared, and I thought, ‘Boy, this feels pretty good. They’re giving me some kind of recognition here that I like.’ “

Weaver, who will celebrate his 50th anniversary in Hollywood next year, says the toughest part about being an actor is “getting a job.” It is also a career that involves heartbreak-on a continual basis.

“Every actor, I don’t care what level they get to, suffers some kind of heartbreak,” says Weaver. “If you can’t take the rejection, you should never try to be an actor. It’s part of the game, part of what it is.”

But, Weaver also says, “Life is short and unpredictable, and if you want to have a fulfilling life, you better just go for what you want to do, what you really think in your deepest part of you is what you’re here to do and to not let a lot of things stand in you way.”

And the final answer is …

Spiritual.

“I think that’s the real answer to all our problems,” says Weaver, who served as a lay minister at the Self Realization Fellowship Lake Shrine in Pacific Palisades for 17 years. His home now is in Colorado, where he and Gerry moved to in 1990 because they were tired of “what was going on in L.A.–the traffic, drugs, crime smog.”

“Albert Schweitzer said, ‘The disastrous feature of our civilization is that we have developed more materially than we have spiritually,’ ” says Weaver.

“I think he means we have to come to that higher understanding that we’re all connected, that we’re all one, that we share each other’s pain, we share each other’s joy,” he explains. “And what is good for another is good for yourself, and what hurts another hurts yourself eventually, because we are truly connected. It appears we are not, but that’s the delusion we are living in, and we really cannot separate ourselves from each other or the Creator, we only imagine we can.”

Our Malibu law firm, Devitt & Chelberg, has handled adoptions for over seven years and I would like to add some information to your excellent article.

Once a child is found and all parties agree to proceed, the adoption can be finalized in 6-8 months if the attorney stays on top of everything.

Secondly, the 90 days in which the natrual mother can change her mind can be shortened if she waives time by filing a second form and by being interviewed by the County Adoption Dept. (She also might be able to change her mind and revoke the adoption after the 90 days but before the adoption is complete.) The father also has the same right to cancel the adoption, though he can consent. His parental rights will be terminated if he cannot be found or refuses to cooperate.

Finally, many infants are available to adopt now without leaving the U.S.A., unless the new parent(s) want to match the babies race with their own or have other special requirements.

James I. Devitt

Exchange students from 23 countries left from Malibu last week for a 33-day train tour around the United States.

The group of 41 excited kids, who are attending high schools in California, Nevada & Hawaii, gathered at Zuma Beach in the late afternoon for an ocean romp and a picnic before boarding a train bound for San Antonio, Texas. Twenty more students were picked up along the way in Arizona. The young travelers will also visit New Orleans, Daytona Beach, Washington, D.C. for the fourth of July, Philadelphia, Niagara Falls, Chicago, Glacier National Park, Montana, Seattle, Portland and Oakland, before returning to Los Angeles.

The students are in a one-year exchange program sponsored by the Rotary Club, which matches the students with their American host families. The students always meet at Zuma Beach for a picnic every year before their train trip. The picnic is hosted by the Malibu Rotary Club.

Local resident Paul St. John created the yearly tour for the exchange students in 1997 because his family was host to a student from Argentina, who had just completed his visit.

“I knew there were lots of other kids who wanted something to do after their year here,” he said, “because they go home to their respective countries and may never visit the United States again. And for some of those students, like the one in Barstow, or in other isolated spots, I think it’s a little unjust to have them in Barstow all year long and never get to experience anything else about America other than Barstow High School.”

Carolina Botelho, from Brazil, is one of the students on this year’s trip. “I wanted to meet new people and see new places in a new culture,” she said.

Anastasia Babamskaya, from Russia, was staying with a family in Santa Barbara. Of her experience living in America, she said, “All doors are open and there’s freedom.” When asked what she is most looking forward to on the tour, she replied, “It’s a chance to be with everyone as a family and see all the kinds of life here.”

The family camaraderie among the students was very apparent as they joked and laughed together, played an informal game of football in the surf or sat in close groups on the sand.

At 6 p.m., the trip’s chaperones rounded up the students for the picnic. Balancing a plate of food in one hand and gesturing emphatically with the other, Siphiwosethu Ndlovu of Zimbabwe spoke about the benefits of being an exchange student, which was the subject of her speech at the International Rotary Convention in Texas on Saturday. With unusual eloquence for a 16-year-old, she said, “Hopefully, while you’re an exchange student, you learn to be proud of your country. Americans have something to be proud of. They are a great people. You learn from them, and hopefully it’s made you proud of your own country and made you realize every single individual and every place has its own wonderful things that make it a great place, an interesting place.

“I want them to realize that being an exchange student is not just to have fun, it’s a whole learning experience. You’d be surprised how much you grow within that year. I know for the six months I’ve been here, I can say, ‘Oh my gosh, I’m not the same person I was when I got here.’ There’s a lot I’ve learned, and a lot I’ve changed about myself.”

With summer upon us and the cool ocean breezes that Malibu offers, it’s no wonder our town is even more desirable to those who don’t live here. Out-of-towners are fleeing the excruciating heat of the Valley, Palm Springs and Las Vegas. So here come the beach crowds …

This means more traffic, lack of parking and the probability of increased car accidents on PCH. We have no reason to leave Malibu, especially on the weekends. We live here, after all. And it will get worse this weekend when traffic slows down as visitors search PCH for the fourth of July party they are invited to. The time has come to survive bumper-to-bumper cars and rubber-neckers. So if you find yourself stuck, just take a deep breath, turn on the radio and belt out a few tunes. You’ll get there, eventually.

‘Bu who? … Sharon and director Chris Cain have been spending more and more time at their Aspen abode, but that doesn’t mean that son, Dean, TV’s Superman, hasn’t been able to enjoy the beach view. He’s been seen taking care of his parents’ dogs.

Magic Malibu moments … Alice Lynn, a straight-A veterinarian student with an animal science major, whose father is Richardson Lynn, the Dean of Pepperdine law school, has a dog tale. As a neighborhood dogwalker, she confirms that her furry four-legged friends get the royal treatment. Chauffeured around town by their devoted owners, some with custom-made collars with personalized tags, they have the run of the house. They live it up all year long. During the summer months, aside from the ticks and a few electric fences, things are far from bleak. But with the help of flea repellent and an obedient attitude, both problems can be avoided.

Movers & shakers … Do you remember Summer Fields? She was the woman on the cover of the super album, “R.E.O Speedwagon.” Looking like she did in 1965, when she held the title for three years as a 210-pound female boxing champion, she was seen wearing her tiara while sitting in the surf at Las Tunas Beach. For his claim to fame, her husband, Ray Fields, played with the Dodgers from 1960 to1963 and was the first person to start selling peanuts at a stadium. And that’s not all … Fields is a top pingpong player, even better than longtime Malibuite Jason Ventress.

Around town … It’s karoke time at Thai Dishes. We all know we sound great in the shower and when we’re in the car, alone. You know what I’m talking about. Try out your favorite song (mine is “Eight Days a Week”) and I guarantee as the night goes on, you will sound even better. It’s a hoot!

Round up … Have a great Independence Day.