Pleasantville…

photo:marksimonson.com
photo:marksimonson.com

This weekend I felt as if I was living on the set of Pleasantville.

Saturday morning, we had breakfast in town. We had the house special at Cafe Vida, 2+2+2 consisting of eggs, bacon and organic brown rice pancakes which are gluten free served with flax and chia seeds and almonds.

All items were perfectly prepared…eggs fluffy, bacon crispy, pancakes healthy and golden brown accompanied by farm to table organic fruit.

Cafe Vida
Cafe Vida

We sat outside under an azure blue sky, slight breeze, surrounded by tall, lanky blondes with their toddlers.

Everyone was on their best behavior.

The dogs were all tied up and well behaved including, Norman, who was named after one of the blonde Barbie’s husband ex-wife’s father…only in California.

Norman, the pug, stood the entire meal because he doesn’t like his butt to touch the ground.

He apparently is dealing with cleanliness issues even though the sidewalks must meet rigorous Pleasantville standards.

Also in attendance, downing a tofu scramble and green antioxidant smoothie was the latest Batman’s trainer (Ben and Jen hang in PP) Yes, he is blonde.

David rushed off to be tortured at his Krap Magu class (Krav Maga) and I ran/walked home via the bluffs overlooking the Pacific Ocean.

It was so clear that you could make out Catalina in all its’ glory.

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Homeward bound from the bluffs, I navigated El Medio which appeared to be right out of the Universal backlot.

The gardeners were dressed in pressed khakis, armed with their blowers.

The lawns glistened despite watering restrictions and the flowers were all ablaze in spring colors.

As if the director shouted, ‘Action’ an older, distinguished moneyed gent decked out in Vineyard Vines bermuda shorts and a polo shirt with the collar popped strolled by with his Golden Retriever, precisely intersecting with two blonde thirty-somethings, pregnant and pushing high-end baby strollers occupied by picture-perfect blonde toddlers.

A bevy of intensely texting Gigi Hadid look-a-like blonde teenagers in revealing Hudson denim cut offs sashayed by, stopping briefly to flip their hair and say ‘like’ 30 times within a matter of seconds.

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I felt like a stranger in a strange land.

Sure, I was wearing Lululemons, but my pants were not so fitted that they sculpted my junk (practicality demands Lulu’s w/pockets), I had on a Yankees cap, I did not have my dogs and I, in all honesty, am an oxymoron in this white bread and mayonnaise hamlet as I am a genuine, card-carrying brunette.

A bit of color…as if the director called for a Where’s Waldo moment during filming, four Hasidic Jewish teenagers came into view…not  dressed in Polo perfection.

They definitely stood out.

The Palisades is so waspy that the sidewalks and driveways are modeled after Wonder Bread slices.

Saturday was absolute perfection, but what else would you expect from Pleasantville…I mean the Pacific Palisades.

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