(photo by Tabor Brewster)

L.A. wraps itself in fairy lights, as if for some inter-galactic prom. No other American city has this many megawatts of cheeky star power. Much of it is manufactured, of course: the smiles, the cleavage, the cocoa-skinned glow.

Yet, for the real deal, look no further than Mother Ocean. The Pacific defines our song lists, our style, our sun-kissed aura … the chronic craving for fresh starts.

Go west, young man, and fall madly into the sequined sea.

No one – not even Sydney Sweeney – has been photographed more often than the world’s deepest ocean.

Fittingly, the Santa Monica sand was the site of Marilyn Monroe’s last photo, about a mile north of the pier. She looks plaintive in it, wrapped in that lush green towel. Like she was searching for lost youth. By then, she was a creaky 36. Which, in Hollywood, is 190 years old.

It’s the same beach where the Beatles kicked back and F. Scott Fitzgerald wandered along the water’s edge, a fallen Gatsby.

Some 60 years later, the Pacific remains L.A.’s eternal star – and its finest spa. In summer, it crawls with activity. We splash naked in it … surf, sail, kayak, tumble, kiss.

Moody and romantic one moment, thrashing the next, this misty ocean will always be America’s biggest stage. It attracts poets, pickpockets and glistening goofs diving for volleyballs.

Probably, in all the world, there is no better place for people-watching: the acrobats, the impossibly muscled, the incredibly lean. And regular folks too – real lookers like you and me.

At its rejuvenating best, the ocean also lifts our spirits and our hearts. In that sense, it is also our biggest, finest church.

With a toast to this coast, here are five places to celebrate our golden pond:

(photo by Chris Erskine)

The Lobster

This special-occasion restaurant – birthdays, anniversaries, illicit lunches – is located at the base of Santa Monica Pier. Go for a drink; the bar is stylish and bright. But to maximize the moment, or a budding new relationship, reserve a table along the glass. Live music plays at weekend brunches, and the windows open, so everyone gets washed by the lullaby air.

I don’t love The Lobster from a purely culinary standpoint. But I cherish the location. Sailboats carve the bay, amid sweeping views of the beach and pier. And then there’s that trademark L.A. twinkle we talked about, like something Elvis might wear.

Order the lobster roll with a side of martini. Hell, order it twice. Order the Dungeness crab fried rice – where else you going to find that? Even the gumbo is dark and rich as a voodoo wedding.

In the end, the memories will be made with your eyes, not your gullet. There are far more-affordable restaurants within walking distance of your house. But there is no location-location-location quite like The Lobster.

When the tide rolls in, it feels like you’ll get your toes wet. And when the sun sets, you’ll fall in love with L.A. all over again.

The Strand bike path

What a free-for-all, what a kick. Rent a bike and make a taco crawl of it, topped by ice cream, maybe a margarita or a cold beer.

Leery of that string of Perry’s Cafes? Mere tourist traps? Nope. The food is fairly priced and delicious. And you can hang there … really hang. For hours, you can plant yourself in a cabana chair and watch the world roll by.

But not till you’ve worked out a bit. Ride your rental down to Dockweiler, then U-turn back through the Marina and up the coast, past Venice, then stop to watch all the slack-liners and acrobats near Santa Monica Pier. Such weirdness. Such health. Such weed in the air. Venice is a little too earthy for me. But this stretch of The Strand is a buzzy and relatively safe comfort zone.

And you’ll be right next to the best bar in the known universe…

(photo by Chris Erskine)

Big Dean’s Ocean Front Cafe

I’ve tagged Big Dean’s as the best bar in America. That’s not an exaggeration, that’s an understatement.

Truth is, most bars are pretty bad. No, it’s true. I have a Ph.D. in disappointing bars.

All the more reason to honor this salty oceanside treasure, a flip-floppy open-air beach bar. Locals hang out here – look for Mike Walter (tell him I sent you). He’s Dean’s self-appointed mayor. But tourists are welcome here too, camping at the picnic tables where irreverent surfer/servers will swing by when they feel like it.

To be fair, service is quick and the wings world class. Lots of regulars huddle up in the back patio, particularly in the fall for football. The crowd is young and old, rich and poor, bashful and bold.

For people watching and sea breezes, snag a table along The Strand, as visitors pour off the pier.

If you can’t have a good time at Dean’s, please call your doctor immediately.

You might be dead.

Duke’s Malibu

I was going to suggest Neptune’s Net, an equally buzzy and loveable landmark, no question. But for my money, and equally sublime, I’ll offer up Duke’s Malibu, where its famed Barefoot Bar is about to reopen after some devastating mudslides in February (be sure to call first to confirm).

Everybody loves this feel-good Malibu landmark. Well, maybe not everyone, but anyone with a lick of sense and a taste for fun.

Waves splash the windows as you savor your icy Long Board, in no hurry to give up your bar stool. This is a family friendly eatery popular with tourists and locals. The staff and hostesses could be easily overwhelmed, yet rarely are.

More than ever, it needs our support after clawing its way back from the mud bath that required a total renovation, bar tops to kitchen.

Welcome back, Duke’s!

That Iconic Ferris Wheel

Finally, follow me to the end of Santa Monica Pier, where that glitzy Technicolor gyroscope has become one of our most-iconic sights.

At $8 a ride, the Ferris Wheel is not only the best deal in Los Angeles, it’s also one of the most breathtaking thrill rides in a region that’s packed with them.

From here, you’ll have the best view of the sirloin sunsets and the waves lapping at the lifeguards.  You can see the full sweep of Santa Monica Bay, north to Point Dume, then south to Palos Verdes Estates.

It’s a great way to end a day or start the night. The sweet spot, of course, is at sundown. Post a video, and you’ll have more Insty views than you ever dreamed.

Because L.A. isn’t just a city. It’s an endless scrapbook.