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ERIC PREVEN’S NOTEBOOK - At Monday’s special meeting of the Ad Hoc Committee for LA Recovery, city officials attempted to balance a $350 million wildfire bill on the edge of a solar-powered light pole.
The agenda, which began as a sober review of burned infrastructure and FEMA reimbursement strategy, slowly unraveled into the usual LA spectacle: bureaucratic backlogs, noble-sounding pilot programs, and exactly one glowing flashlight quote from Councilmember Traci Park.
**"I’ve been up in the Palisades at night," Park said gravely. "It’s really, really dark up there." ** The gallery nodded.
Traci Park, 24/7
Pacing: Frenzied but Polite
The committee whipped through Item 1, a sprawling report on burned rec centers, melted streetlights, displaced dogs, and damaged bulkheads. Then came a series of agency updates, delivered rapid-fire:
- Rec and Parks: $30–$50 million needed to rebuild the Palisades Rec Center. The playground sand tested clean.
- LADOT: 37 traffic signal sites damaged. Estimates forthcoming.
- LADWP: 753 power poles destroyed; 1,300 replaced. Reservoir divers deployed. FEMA won’t pay for water testing, but "we flushed the system."
- Street Lighting: 574 poles now flagged for replacement. Solar poles are 10x more expensive and FEMA doesn’t like them.
Councilmember Monica Rodriguez called out the city’s copper theft crisis and illegal dumping patterns. "The criminals are mobile," she warned, a line that deserves its own LAPD task force.
Public Speakers: Heartfelt and Tired
Residents from the Palisades, Alphabet Streets, and elsewhere urged the city to waive permit fees, clarify rebuild rules, and provide transparency around insurance and environmental testing. Jessica Rogers captured the moment. bluntly: To summarize, “We’re f---ed.”
Paloma from Loyola Law warned of post-disaster labor exploitation. Several speakers cried. Everyone thanked Traci Park. One invoked Caruso. It was that kind of day.
And Then: I fell asleep.... (this part was a dream)
As the committee prepared to "receive and file," a BOE staffer wheeled in a battered scroll tube. Out came glossy maps marked with the unmistakable Dodger Blue of Prop K.
“Didn’t Prop K sunset with Krekorian?” someone whispered.
"He's baaack!"
Paul Krekorian wearing a tie of GOLD seated next to three smilers.
Apparently not. The maps unveiled a massive citywide plan to build regulation high school basketball courts at strategic sites, including parks, hillside lots, and marina-adjacent properties. A stealth network of post-calamity hoop resilience.
McOsker flew off the handle, still bitter about Olympic sailing being snubbed in San Pedro flew off the handle. “ Prop K is not for Krekorian?!” he thundered, nearly upending a decorative sandbag.
Adrin Nazarian announced via e-blast, that he has hosted more than 90 free self-defense clinics, where thousands of women have learned the basics of self-defense. All genders and ages welcome (over 8).
Is it a good use of public dollars, or a good way to sign up voters? Bofe!
cc - Ethics Commission
Meanwhile, Nithya Raman, in her State of the City address, announced that the recovery in the Palisades is "on track to be the fastest in California history."
Smart Speaker: Wait, she's not the mayor yet is she?
Then: ... waking in a start!
Karen Bass introduced a self-certification program aimed at reducing redundancy in the permitting process—AI Permits! Accelerate!—and committed to introducing an ordinance to waive all plan check fees, a policy that had been quietly teed up during Traci's recovery committee.
Top cop, Jim McDonnell, surprisingly flush for noon!
Nodding off again...
DISSOLVE TO...
EXT. WINDING MOUNTAIN ROAD – NIGHT
A dim figure ascends a dark ridge, flashlight in hand. It’s Traci Park, muttering to herself.
TRACI
"Really, really dark... I wasn’t kidding."
She crests the hill... and sees lights glowing ahead. Not emergency lights—candlelit tables. Linen. Name cards. Laughing.
She squints. A hidden backyard recovery summit in full swing.
INT. SECRET MEETING – NIGHT
A curated gathering of the elite: Lindsey Horvath, Kathryn Barger, JJ Redick, and Rick Caruso. All in full glide.
HORVATH (smiling serenely) "What we’re offering isn’t just resilience—it’s legacy."
BARGER (laughing lightly) "Let’s not forget who funded the evacuation goats."
JJ (to crowd) "When I realized the rec center was gone, I knew I had to act. I drew up blueprints. In sweat."
CARUSO "We don’t just build malls. We build meaning. And Mediterranean tile roofs."
HORVATH "Imagine a county where every canyon has a councilmember. But no fire risk."
TRACI (stunned, quietly) "They're all meeting with her... behind my back."
She steps forward.
TRACI "So this is what we’re doing now? Backyard blue ribbon government?"
HORVATH (with perfect poise) "Oh Traci. You're always welcome. We assumed you were... out checking hydrants."
CARUSO: "Would you like a resilience mocktail? We infused it with optimism."
TRACI (grabbing the mic) "No. I’d like the city to waive permit fees for people who lost everything. And maybe... a flashlight that works."
CROWD (a pause) Then light applause. One clap from Barger. JJ nods. Rick checks his phone.
Again: ... waking in a start!
Back at City Hall, the meeting concludes with a unanimous non-vote and a final recommendation to read the linked Bel Air–Beverly Crest Neighborhood Council statement.
Not a CIS. A blueprint. Possibly a streaming series. "A masterpiece!"
City Council Preview: Yes, cookies
Tomorrow, April 22, after a cleansing Easter recess and an extended pause on constituent visibility, the Los Angeles City Council returns with a 28-item agenda teetering between government function and experimental theater.
I’ll be there. As always. Watching. Commenting. And yes—still wondering: where are the cookies?
Item 2 is particularly close to my heart. Gelson’s, the swanky Studio City grocery cathedral and site of the now-legendary “Gelson’s kerfuffle”—a melee involving shoplifting, a Good Samaritan, and a stabbing—is back. Relive the historic kickoff here.
And what are they requesting? More liquor. Both on-site and off-site alcohol sales. Not accountability. Not a commemorative safety awareness pamphlet. Just... more Pinot.
As a survivor of the incident (emotionally, not physically), I, Eric Preven, humbly suggest that Gelson’s offer the public a modest cookie tray as a gesture of goodwill. Oatmeal raisin. Or maybe snickerdoodle. We are not unreasonable.
Items 3 through 11 concern street lighting districts, each with a customized annual fee and no guarantee your neighborhood won’t remain lit exclusively by the glow of someone’s vape pen. Copper theft protection? Sure—just call 311. And wait quietly. Forever.
Items 18 and 19 bring in TD Securities and PNC Capital Markets, because when homelessness is up 18% nationwide but only “flat” here in LA, it’s clearly time to onboard more bankers. Nothing inspires confidence in public spending like a room full of guys named Chad explaining municipal derivatives to a Planning intern.
Item 22 unveils a real-time homelessness spending dashboard—because what better way to track the absence of housing than with a pie chart? It’s like watching your checking account drain in high definition. Can it house anyone? No. But it might come with a filter function.
Item 20? The Port of LA redevelopment. Now, I haven’t seen the fine print, but I will be combing through it for any mention of Olympic sailing infrastructure, which Councilmember McOsker has been chasing like Moby Dick in a committee binder. If there’s a line item for dinghies, I want receipts.
Item 13 repairs a slope in Griffith Park. No buried basketball courts this time. Item 27 updates the Transportation Demand Management Ordinance, which is legislative shorthand for “drive less, pay more.” And Item 28 expands the Community Assistance Parking Program—our noble, slightly surreal effort to swap parking tickets for social services. LA’s answer to justice: therapeutic parking forgiveness.
So there you have it. One meeting. 28 items. Liquor, lighting, dashboards, derivatives... and if I get my way—cookies.
(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.)
