Chris Erskine: Santa Monica Pier juts out into the Pacific like Jay Leno’s jaw, a defiant, whimsical and improbable landing pad. Just 100 feet below, sharks are at play, scarfing the occasional hot dog and Coke cup that plop into their Sunday soup. Up on deck, L.A. is at play too. Here, on SoCal’s splendid splinter.
Passing woman: “I just need to decompress.”
Male companion: “How’d you get so compressed?”
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