He's down to 8 inches tall, and...

He’s down to 8 inches tall, and...

By M.H

May 24, 1992 12 AM PT

He’s down to 8 inches tall, and I had to hunker to hear him, out in his yard in Topanga Canyon beside the house he’s had rebuilt for the umpteenth time, to doll-house size now, and the miniature fences and corrals.

“I don’t know how you do it, Grandpa,” I told him.

“There’s outlaw chemists in Topanga, boy. Covens o’ witches, maybe, brewin’ beetlejuice. I ain’t tellin.’ ” He whispered: “Hippies. “

“But why?”

He squinted up at me from under his tiny Stetson. “I done told you, boy. A man’s gotta have room to roam. And there’s less room in these Santa Monica Mountains ever’ year. Durn city’s reachin’ up from Malibu, squeezin’ down from the 101. Pretty soon there won’t be any open range left.

“So I figgered my half-acre had to do. The littler I get, the bigger it gets. This spread ain’t Southfork yet, but give it time.” He cackled. Then he frowned. “Say.”

“What, Grandpa?”

“You see on TV, them old cowpokes go ridin’ up to the rim overlookin’ Monument Valley and the boss man says, ‘Well, boys, how do you like the new back yard?’ They can’t buy that, can they?”

“No,” I told him. “It’s just an ad.”

“Had me scared there,” he said. “You know durn well, if they did, inside a year it’d all be gated estates. “

He got me to wondering. If he had to shrink down to the size of a chicken to have enough room to roam, what would I eventually have to be like? An ant? A microbe?

Grandpa seemed to read my mind. “There’s still a little country left, boy. Why, just this weekend there’s the 19th annual Topanga Days Country Fair at Topanga Community House, 1440 N. Topanga Canyon Blvd., from 11 a.m. to 10 p.m. today and 11 a.m. to 5 p.m. Monday. Rock ‘n’ roll by Randy Renner and Boardertown, zydeco by the Crawfish Wranglers and country swing by the Grateful Dads. Square dancin’, games and contests for the whole family. Entry’s $5, and kids under 12 are free.”

He looked at me.

“You’re ‘bout old enough to pay now, ain’t you, boy? Couple of years, you’ll want my brewin’ pals to fix you up some o’ that Love Potion No. 9. Don’t tell me you know about that already.”

“No, Grandpa,” I lied.

“Good.” He edged out of my mountainous shadow. “I swear, you get bigger ever’ time I see you.”