It’s not easy to be politically correct, but I do keep trying.

A few years ago when the City Council members in their infinite wisdom decided they didn’t want to have any tall trees on the hillsides — blocking anyone’s viewshed they called it — they decreed 6-foot trees, and we all took a deep breath and tried to comply. In La Costa, which was a 50-year-old neighborhood, that wasn’t easy, so we finally had to burn down the whole neighborhood. Everybody got their viewshed, but it didn’t turn out the way they wanted it to. In fact, without tall trees, it looks a little bit like a graveyard with great big tombstones, but we know in time the vegetation will grow back and the viewshed from PCH will soften and turn green and the council will be happy, and we want the council to be happy.

Recently, the council decided it was once again time to clean up the hillside esthetics of Malibu. It turned to that crack team of esthetes on the Planning Commission, commissioners Jo Ruggles and Charleen Kabrin, with instructions to restore Malibu to its lost beauty. The task was daunting, but they were never ones to shirk any opportunity to improve and regulate our lives no matter how short-sighted we might be in not seeing the wisdom of their proposals.

They began, it would appear, by driving down Pacific Coast Highway. While averting their gaze from the tiers of large, two-story homes, cheek by jowl along the beach, and the overhead phone and utility lines, and the ugly 1950s architecture, and the endless variety of tasteless signs, they looked up at the truly offensive part of our environment, our hillsides and gasped — My God! There are actually homes up there.

That was the beginning of the great crusade.

It started with the red-roof syndrome. You remember that one. That’s when Jo Ruggles decided she didn’t like white houses with red roofs and woe to anyone who came to the Planning Commission with that color scheme. Fuchsia and pink, OK. Purple and vermilion, no problem. Red and white, watch out.

Next came the invisible houses, that is, houses that couldn’t be seen. If you want their approval, you better plan on burying them, or disguising them or painting them earth tones, whatever that may mean, provided you can’t see them. Apparently, camouflage is also acceptable.

Next the crusade moved on to architectural statements. As they looked around, they began to discover that architects were actually designing new homes that didn’t look exactly like everyone else’s old homes, or, to use their term of art, these architects were intending to change the character of the neighborhoods. Planning Director Craig Ewing’s recent comment sums up their attitude: “Don’t plan on building a look-at-me house, because that’s not what’s going to get approved.” I assume from this that what he’s really saying is, if you expect to get through the Planning Commission, you better plan on a don’t-notice-me-house.

But I must tell you it hasn’t always been easy for our two caped crusaders. They have also taken their knocks as of late. Their perfectly reasonable proposal to control lighting coming from houses was turned down by their less-cutting-edge colleagues. It started with outside lights like garden lights, and garage lights and security lights. But then they overstepped, they wanted to control the lights coming from inside our houses. Even Mr. Ewing balked at the Planning Department examining the lighting inside each house to decide if it would interfere with their neighbor’s view of the night sky.

Ruggles and Kabrin explained they’ve been getting complaints about the interior lighting of hillside homes, particularly the more contemporary homes that feature floor-to-ceiling windows and track lighting that create a visual blight. Their colleagues wouldn’t have it.

They ran into another rejection when they tried to bring every home with a 10 percent to 15 percent slope under their ordinance. Just about any neighborhood, even flat areas like Point Dume, would have come under their control. Their colleagues once again balked. But of one thing you can be sure, “They’ll be back.”

I am writing to publicly recognize and thank many of the restaurants in Malibu for their donations of a lunch or dinner for two as holiday gifts to the teachers at Webster School. This is the 6th year that I have asked for these gifts and the number of donations has grown steadily to a total of 26. The restaurants participating this year were: Allegria, BeauRivage, Coogie’s (2), Duke’s, Fins Malibu (Bambu), Giorgio, Gladstone’s, Granita, The Gray Whale, Guido’s, John’s Garden, Marmalade, Michael’s (3), Paradise Cove Beach Cafe (3), PierView, Reel Inn, Saddle Peak Lodge, Spruzzo, Taverna Tony, Tra Di Noi and Tutto Bene.

It is tremendously gratifying for our teachers to be recognized by the community in this way, especially in this particularly difficult year for local businesses. Many businesses and individuals make special efforts to help others, especially children, during the holidays. I applaud each and every person who finds time or money to help those in need. Teachers make a career of helping children and their families and they do this with great skill, energy, and dedication every day in schools throughout our country. Every teacher I know is richly deserving of a nice meal at one of the fine restaurants in Malibu and I am very proud to see this becoming an annual tradition in our community.

Our school is consistently supported by this community in many ways throughout the year. We strongly feel that both families with children in our school and others throughout Malibu value and appreciate our work. Our students benefit directly every day from this support and involvement. The morale of our staff is also affected in a very positive way. I know I speak for all of us at Webster when I say that we feel fortunate to work in this community and privileged to teach your children. Happy New Year to all and many, many thanks.

Phil Cott

principal, Webster School

‘Twas the week after Christmas, and all through the house,

Nothing would fit me, not even a blouse.

The cookies I’d nibbled, the eggnog I’d taste,

All the holiday parties had gone to my waist.

When I got on the scales there arose such a number!

I should walk a mile, but my choice was to slumber.

I’d remember the marvelous meals I’d prepared,

The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rared.

The champagne and red wine, the crackers and cheese,

And the way I’d never said, “No thank you, please.”

As I dressed myself in my extra large T-shirt,

I said to myself, “You can’t even fit in your mini-skirt!”

So – away with the last of the sour cream dip,

Get rid of the fruit cake, every cracker and chip.

Every last bit of food that I like must be banished,

Till all the additional ounces have vanished.

I won’t have a cookie, not even a lick,

I’ll only chew on a long celery stick.

I won’t have hot biscuits, garlic bread or pie,

I’ll munch on a carrot and quietly cry.

I’m hungry, I’m thirsty and life is a bore,

But isn’t that what January is for?

Unable to giggle, no longer a riot,

Happy New Year to all and to all a good diet!

Compiled by Beverly Taki

Arnold, you are or were a lawyer, right? So you should know better than to support, in your “Coming attractions” piece, a bureaucratic demand that Malibu prove it is blameless respecting an alleged, but unproven and unspecified, “sewage problem.” In law school, and the last I heard, it is the accuser, and not the accused, who bears the burden of proof of alleged wrongdoing. So, we, the city of Malibu, are not required, as you maintain, to “prove we’re blameless.” Even your paper has reported that the Regional Water Quality Control Board on the basis of unfounded suspicions of water pollution caused by septic system failures, as did L.A. County before them on the basis of an unsubstantiated “health hazard,” is seeking to ban septic systems and impose sewers on Malibu. If you know of any foundation for the RWQCB action, let us in on it.

The matter is not even controversial, with people of nearly all political stripes opposing banning of septic systems and the forced sewering of Malibu without cause. But you appear to be gleefully looking forward to the forced sewering, and ultimate massive development, of Malibu. With friends like you, our city doesn’t need enemies. We all know, from past history and experience with the county, supported by interested developers and their newspaper friends (that means you, Arnold,) that a sewer system is the essential first step toward realization of dreams for high density development of Malibu.

And we also know that, as sure as night follows day, this dream/nightmare of massive development would be completed by ramming through a freeway or ocean causeway to satisfy demands for rescue from PCH gridlock of tens of thousands of residents who would inhabit a “new and improved” Malibu megalopolis. Should anyone be unaware, what I refer to as developers’ dreams were not so many years ago parts of concrete (pun intended), seriously intended, plans of the county and Caltrans. And now you would have us believe that environmentalists are now elitists, opposing protection of water quality, and that The Malibu Times is now leading the charge to save Malibu by sewering it. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it? As the song goes, “Whatever’s old is new again.”

Arthur London

She’s nothing like one would expect knowing her from character roles in film and television. Benjy Stone’s overbearing mother in “My Favorite Year” would never politely and rationally answer questions over a dietetic lunch, in what once was termed a cultured voice.

Lainie Kazan is lovely, in fact, turning heads as she enters a restaurant, her dancer’s bearing intact, her clothing classic and luxurious, her countenance alive. No, she’s nothing like the mascara-stained alcoholics, the used Italian wives, in other words the character roles she takes on for her art.

She will bring songs from her newest CD, “In the Groove,” to Smothers Theatre Jan. 23. The evening should include standards and original tunes. “A lot of heartbreaking tunes,” she warns. “I’m a little heartbreaker.”

She orders 3-1/2 ounces of fish and a salad. “All I do is think about food,” says the heartbreaker. That’s impossible, considering what’s on her plate.

She won a Golden Globe nomination for her role in “My Favorite Year” and says she still laughs when she sees the movie. “Peter O’Toole, what a dream,” she says. She was required to audition for the part because no one knew her as a film actress. At least the screenwriter knew her as funny. “When he sent me that script, I knew that Jewish mother like the back of my hand.” She fashioned the character after her mother in the 1950s. Her success led to the Broadway musical version and a Tony Award nomination.

Other film credits include “Delta Force,” “Beaches” and “Harry and the Hendersons.”

Known for her early television appearances on variety and talk shows, she hosted her own variety special for NBC. Other television appearances produced an Emmy Award nomination for “St. Elsewhere.” These days, she can be seen in recurring roles, as Aunt Frieda on “The Nanny” and as Kirstie Alley’s mom on “Veronica’s Closet.”

Her hopes for the future include more recordings. “And a series,” she says. “I need to be in one place for a while, but in a great role.” Yet she says it is the singing that defines who she is. “Not only is it the expression of the lyrics and the music but it’s a feeling of the sound within your body — the sound reverberating in your head and chest and stomach.

“I don’t need anything when I sing. If it’s right, it’s incredible, and the only way it’s right is if you’re communicating with your musicians.”

She says she’s an actress when she sings. “I must consider myself a Method singer,” she says. “I definitely try to find the meaning for me in each song. It’s never the same. Each night I try to bring what I’m feeling to the lyric.” In New York, where she lives most of the year, she teaches acting for singers and vocal technique. “So many young people have such bad technique,” she says.

The legend of Kazan’s calling began when she was 3, on the Coney Island boardwalk. Her parents thought she was lost, until they saw a circle of people crowded around a little girl who was singing and dancing for the crowd. She took dance classes in her Flatbush neighborhood until she was ready for the prestigious teachers of Manhattan. “I was an OK dancer,” she says. “It’s just that I looked good. I was more show than technique. I was much better as a singer.”

She began singing lessons at 14 with Mabel Horsey, a black woman who taught her about jazz and soul and introduced her to the material Kazan still sings.

Wanting acting courses, she attended Hoffstra University on a scholarship, where she played leading ladies opposite classmate Francis Ford Coppola. She later studied with Sanford Meisner and later still with Lee Strasberg. “Meisner taught me the basics, the technique,” she says. “Lee taught me how to go into my psyche.”

The career became serious when she understudied Barbra Streisand on Broadway in “Funny Girl” (although theater lore has it Streisand did her best to never miss a performance).

The show’s musical director, Peter Daniels, became Kazan’s coach and husband. They had a daughter, Jennifer Daniels, now a singer and dancer, who will give Kazan her first grandchild, in June. “She’s married to a really nice guy,” Kazan says. “They’re sweet together.” Kazan believes her daughter isn’t starry-eyed about the profession. Says Kazan, “For me it was magical, even though I haven’t had an easy time.”

There were times when Kazan couldn’t afford to stop working, when she couldn’t find work, when she became ill. She worked in a wheelchair for two years after breaking a leg chasing her dog on the beach in Malibu. She was fired from the Broadway production of “Seesaw,” which she calls “a horrifying period.” It did cause her to move to California. Here, she opened and operated two nightclubs.

After being a chanteuse in New York’s finest hotels, she says she sang “in the toilets of America” — on the south side of Chicago, in Milwaukee, “in this horrifying place in Wisconsin.” While in Wisconsin, she recalled better days working for Hugh Heffner in Lake Geneva, so she telephoned the Wisconsin Playboy Hotel, which invited her to stay. She noticed the business was faltering. She offered suggestions, leading to a meeting with Heffner, which led to management of one of his clubs in L.A.

Working out of her home, she answered the telephone, “Lainie’s room,” which became the name of the club. “In six months, I put them in the black,” she says. After one year, Heffner offered her the New York club, which she booked and entertained at for four years.

Acting returned to her life when Coppola contacted her and cast her in “One from the Heart.” “Everyone in the acting underworld knew I was funny and I could act,” she says. “People in ‘The Business’ didn’t know who I was.” She fixed that.

She’s also fixed her singing career. She claims to have had a few hostile piano players, “who’ve screwed around with me on stage, playing notes not wrong but distracting.” Happily, the master musicians in the Jim DeJulio Quintet will open her show at Smothers. Kazan will offer jazz standards, some comedy material, a Sophie Tucker song and an Ethel Merman medley, with help from three of the musicians from the quintet.

Lainie Kazan appears Jan. 23, 8 p.m., at Smothers Theatre. Tickets may be purchased through Ticketmaster at 213/365-3500 or the theater at 456-4522.

As a horse owner and friend of Larry and Lori Gray, I am writing in response to Mrs. Gold’s letter dated Dec. 17.

Malibu’s future rests in the hands and hard work of its young families, their community spirit and involvement. The Grays exemplify everything that is positive about Malibu. They are involved in the community and their children’s schools and have invited many, including our family, to share in their holiday joy. They are kind and giving people and live for the times their family can enjoy their horses together. We, especially in this country, are blessed with the opportunity to have pets in our homes that are more than livestock, they are truly members of the family. The reality with horses is they can and do find ways out of barns and corrals.

Nobody wants that to happen, but it does. The Grays didn’t want their horses to get out and be in danger, no more than they would wish any other family member to be placed in harm’s way. The Grays are mourning the death of one of their horses – a member of the family. They have taken responsibility for it – to the point that they have doubled fenced their corrals. For someone to wish “they will pay” is not helping the problem, rather it is throwing gasoline on the fire of this family’s grief.

Mrs. Gold stated that she was waiting to hear that the “owners will be cited. . .” Let us hope the New Year will bring Mrs. Gold a more thoughtful and positive approach to her concerns – such as volunteering at one of our local animal shelters. Maybe then she could understand and step forward in support of the Grays in their time of grief rather than criticizing from afar.

Bill Reynolds