My e-mail home reads something like that. Once again, Hollywood’s entertainment industry, notorious for last-minute scheduling changes, has made the purchase of a reasonably priced plane ticket next to impossible. Luckily, eight of my friends face the same dilemma. Within hours, we devise a solution: When in doubt, head for the coast! As Melissa McCarthy says (2,000 miles away from her family in Illinois), “If you’re going to be stranded, might as well be stranded at the beach.”
We unanimously agree to throw our own celebration in Laguna Beach, and call it “The First-Ever Hula Christmas.” Keeping holiday spirit firmly in place, we turn tradition upside down and reinvent it—California style. Warm sands replace crowded shopping mall parking lots, tiki torches burn in place of tapered candles, and mai tais save the eggs from eggnog.
Now, Mom, don’t get mad, but Christmas with family can sometimes feel like a never-ending barrage of big drama, bad casseroles, and boring gifts. But Christmas spent with the family you pick—say, your best friends—in a unique destination—say, the beach—is anything but. Sometimes, a well-deserved vacation from the yearly rituals of home is just what Saint Nick ordered.
As our caravan happily passes the holiday quagmire known as LAX, we make several stops for key supplies. One Christmas tree and dozens of leis later, we pull up to the door of our last-minute rental, Bob’s Beach House. Before our bags even make it inside, we begin decorating the tree. “Oohs” and “aahs” fill the air as seashells, mini hula girls, and fresh-cut flowers trim our tropical Christmas fir. A traditional felt tree skirt won’t quite work. “Santa needs to leave the building,” someone shouts. With that, we each head down to the beach, return with a bag full of sand, and pour a fitting tree skirt in place.
Following an afternoon of volleyball and sunbathing, we prepare our Christmas dinner—including delicacies picked up on the way. Peking ducks and banana leaf–wrapped sticky rice came from a restaurant in Chinatown. Homemade bouillabaisse stock made it down from an earlier trip to Carmel. The entire dinner takes half an hour to put together but looks as though we labored over it all day. “I don’t think our first-ever Hula Christmas should involve dishwashing,” explains Angel Roberts as she presents the meal in individual Chinese take-out boxes.
When the tree is lighted, Octavia Spencer looks at her watch and says, “I should be missing my connecting flight in Atlanta right about now.” I reply that I should be shuffling between obligations back home in Mississippi, more tired than when I got there. But this year is different. We all actually relax, have fun, and see the possibility of an energized return to work.
Next Christmas won’t be nearly as tranquil. It’s not that I’m traveling to visit my family. They’re all coming to Los Angeles. Eight of us together in my small, three-bedroom house. Pass the eggnog—please!
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Rent Bob’s Beach House
