People and Events

There are, in this endlessly fascinating land of ours, museums devoted entirely to a collection of cast-iron farm-implement seats, to cheese, to brassieres. So why not this one, to creatures that may or may not exist?

The Cryptozoology Museum opens this weekend in Malibu, and “we define cryptozoology as being the search for mysterious creatures,” says its curator, Jon Beckjord.

His assorted studies on the Loch Ness Monster, the yeti and its West Coast cousins--Bigfoot, sasquatch, whatever--and other creatures of fact or fancy, such as Africa’s Mokele M’Bembe, form the core of the display. Also, it helps Beckjord clean out his garage of at least a dozen years of research by the former Bay Area city planner, who “got bored (with that work) and went off to look for Bigfoot and I guess my mistake was I found it.”

Not for him the creatures of pure myth--the roc, the chimera, the unicorn. Instead, “We’re trying to offer the ones that to the best of our knowledge appear to be verified, or haven’t at least been debunked.”

Housed for now in a room off the Trancas Restaurant that converts to a dance floor by night, the collection of “pictures, mostly” is intended to offer enough alternatives to satisfy everyone, from skeptics to zealots: “1, that there is no such thing--and we have uncovered some hoaxes. 2, that they are rare, difficult-to-find creatures . . . like the coelacanth (a prehistoric fish thought to be extinct and finally caught alive in the 1930s) . . . 3, new explanations. . . . This really borders on some radical ideas that disturb some people, so we’ll go at it lightly.”

The restaurant itself, says Beckjord, may soon offer a Bigfoot Burger theme lunch.

Accompanied, perhaps, by a bowl of Scotch broth, in which you think you see a sea serpent.

Scores of food writers and critics convening here for the International Food Media Conference had a thoughtful little gift awaiting them at the Biltmore headquarters. In addition to the usual hotel guest array of shampoo, shower cap and chocolate mint, these guests were presented with a small shopping bag filled with Alka Seltzer, Tums and Rolaids.

Food. It’s a tough job but someone’s got to do it.

The not-to-miss event at “one of the two most prestigious dog shows in the country,” the Kennel Club of Beverly Hills’ extravaganza this Sunday: the herding demonstration, wherein dogs herd ranch and farm animals.

De rigueur training for what to do when bulls cavort through those Rodeo Drive china shops.

When his rented helicopter lost power and dropped to the ground Friday, Ed Mauldin adroitly executed an emergency landing called “full down auto rotation” and put down at a Panorama City construction site.

Too bad the FAA wasn’t watching. Because Mauldin had been on his way to Van Nuys Airport to take the oral exam for his flight instructor’s certification. And when he finally arrived, he didn’t pass. “My nerves were shot,” the seasoned pilot said.

That same maneuver is required on the other part of the test that Mauldin has yet to take. But since he’s already done it, “maybe this one will count,” he said hopefully.

In a California champagne-maker’s Valentine’s list of the nation’s most romantic cities, San Francisco came in first, Honolulu second and L.A. third.

So far, so good. But keep in mind that this is a computer analysis--and how many times have you shared a split of vintage brut with a computer? This computer factored in marriages and divorces, restaurants, sales of flowers, diamonds and champagne, and miles of walkable shoreline, and also concluded that the nation’s seventh and 10th most romantic cities are Rochester, N.Y., and Grand Rapids, Mich.

If only Cole Porter had known, we might have had a different song entirely: “I love Rochester in the summer, when it sizzles . . .”