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OK, who’s going to get the first DWT-HTP (driving while talking and holding the phone)ticket when this California law goes into effect? Rather than a safety thing, it’s feeling like a selling/marketing opportunity for companies to sell hands-free gadgets to all of us yakkers. When, really, the speakerphone will do most of the time, if you’re driving solo. If you’re like me, a hater of Bluetooth earpieces or any kind of phone earpiece, you spend most of your wasted time in LA traffic catching up on phone calls, or even when you’re speeding down the freeway in off hours/no traffic. It’s going to be a big adjustment, since talking on the speakerphone somehow makes you yell instead of speaking in a normal, conversational tone. Just pondering how many of our tax dollars at work are going to go into actually enforcing this, since all the studies say the safety issue is not holding the phone but rather the act of conversation itself. Gives me a sore throat just thinking about it…

Amazing how much coverage this story has gotten….duh, because there’s good video. A bunch of Malibu surfers trying to protect shirtless (and brainless) Matthew McConaughey–and the world–from more pictures of him surfing. It’s the aught’s version of West Side Story: surfers versus paps, and I’d call it a draw. But it would be very disconcerting if a bunch of paps converged on “my” beach. People do get very territorial about their stretch of sand, and surf. Before they cleaned the Will Rogers tunnel of graffitti (but left the pools of urine and the drunk homeless guys) my favorite was the admonition ”Vals Go Home.”

It started off really great to find this: a pool bar scene without the drama that seems to come along with the overpriced libations at the Viceroy, the Standard, the Tropicana or the Sky Bar. File it under the category of something old that’s new again: Trader Vic’s at the Beverly Hilton. Now, with summer finally here, hanging out by the pool having a cocktail and no jacket required, it was a little slice of LA heaven. Great atmosphere, gorgeous pool, comfy couches…it was all good. Until, you tried to get a waiter. Somehow, with not that many people there–and that was a good thing, too–the servers just didn’t seem too interested in serving the customers.  Well, so you walk up to the bar to get drinks. An inconvenience, but still, a real and as yet pretty undiscovered find. Here’s to hot summer nights under the stars….

Well, maybe not quite. Did you hear the one about the 9th Circuit Appeals Court judge presiding over an obsenity trial discovered to have reams of beastie porn on his website? Alex Kozinski then tried to blame it all on his son, after saying he didn’t know anyone else but him could view it. What a perv! He also thought a picture of a guy giving himself head was hysterically funny. I bet! Hey, I’m all for free speech but this freak is the presiding judge of one of the highest courts in the land. A little more decorum under the robes, your honor. Case closed.

All the explicit details: http://www.latimes.com/la-me-kozinski13-2008jun13,0,1564549.story

Kimberly Dozier and Bob Woodruff, two television journalists at competing networks who will forever be linked by their respective experiences in Iraq. Both were seriously wounded in 2006, Woodruff suffering severe brain injuries by an IED and Dozier nearly lost her limbs in a car bombing that killed her crew, an army captain and an interpreter. Both are now winning Peabody Awards for their stories on wounded veterans trying to make their way back into the fabric of American society again, clearly a subject that touches them deeply. I had occasion to speak with each of them, and even though they didn’t ask me to, I’m going to tout their good works. Woodruff has started a foundation to help injured soldiers, www.bobwoodrufffamilyfund.org, and Dozier has just come out with a can’t-put-it-down book chronicling her experiences, “Breathing the Fire.” (Find out more at www.kimberlydozier.com)

So, I just got back from New York where amidst eating my way through the city at great places like Kobe Club, Ilili, Michael’s, Ono and Barbounia, one place sadly stood out. Resto. Went there on the promise that it had the best burgers in NY, highlighted in a recent NY Mag “best of” issue. First off, the burgers have pork fat so they can’t be cooked medium rare or any other way except well done you might want them. Then, the accompanying side salad was so salty I couldn’t eat it. The fries were burning, burning hot, so much so that they served as dessert when they cooled off. And the final blow, they charge extra for a sauce to dip the frites in. Tab for the meal plus a bad glass of cheap Italian wine: $32. What a huge, leave-a-bad-taste-in-your-mouth disappointment.