SELLER: Kevin Richardson
LOCATION: Miller Drive, Los Angeles, CA
PRICE: $3,977,000 (list)
SIZE: 3,532 square feet, 4 bedrooms, 4.5 bathrooms
DESCRIPTION: Secluded & gated, this is one of a handful of large flat view properties on the Sunset Strip Romantic “Byrd House” redone for today’s lifestyle yet the original character & details remain intact. Extraordinary outdoor entertainment areas include huge sweeping lawns & garden, outdoor covered porch & dining area w/FP. Staggering jetliner views from downtown. Wonderful oversize pool evocative of Old Hollywood & fire pit complete this one of a kind property.

YOUR MAMAS NOTES: Sorry kids, but we’re a little like a chicken with our head cut off today so we need to be swift in our discussion on this property because we figure that’s better than leaving y’all high and dry and in desperate need of a celebrity real estate fix. Besides, we don’t want to hear the whining that some of you do when we take a little time to ourselves. If Your Mama has said it once we’ve said it 14,000 times, when y’all start paying the insurance and satisfying our mortgage you can bitch all you want. Until then, shut yer traps. Ooh lawhd, can y’all tell Your Mama woke up sour? Shoooot, we are needing a nerve pill now and we ain’t even got our day half started.

Anyhoo, it looks to Your Mama like former Backstreet Boy Kevin Richardson and his former Rockette ladee-mate Kristin (Willits) Richardson have up and sold their Sunset Strip area house. Your Mama never listened to that boy bad music so we really can’t tell you much about Mister Richardson other than we hope he steered clear of that fat ol‘ (alleged) pervert Lou Pearlman who is justifiably raked over the coals in Tyler Gray’s book The Hit Charade.

Your Mama wishes we could reveal the figure for which the Richardson residence was sold, but property records we accessed this morning do not disclose a sale price. What we do know, thanks to Our Fairy Godmother in the Sunset Strip, is that the Miller Drive property was put on the market on March 2, 2009 with an asking price of $3,977,000, went into contract just 1o days later and the damn thing had closed by the end of April. Well, la-didah.

Property records show Mister and Missus Richardson purchased the Robert Byrd designed domicile (or at least Robert Byrd-esque style domicile) in March of 2001. We regret to inform that we also do not know what the teen gurl magnet paid but based on mortgage records we’d guess it was somewhere around two million clammers.

The higgeldypiggeldy house was built in 1936 and sits up a long gated driveway that makes the property completely private from the street. Although the driveway and privacy may be celebrity style, the approach to the house not so much. A front facing two car garage greets guests who must clamber along the side of the house to reach the front door of the 3,532 square foot house that snakes along a narrow flat pad with a steep up slope on the backside and a glittery and unobstructed view of Los Angeles on the other.

Listing information indicates the “redone for today’s lifestyle” two-story residence has 4 bedrooms and 4.5 bathrooms including a master bedroom with vaulted ceilings, a private deck, and a large master bathroom with double sinks, a shower that easily accommodates two or more, and a very uglee old-fashioned soaking tub that sits in front of a window for staring at the stars while sitting in a pool of dirty water. The children will also note the rather impractical fireplace. Who lights a damn fire while their brushing their teeth in the morning or wiping off their make-up face in the evening? Who? Okay, probably that Sharon Stone would. But she’s got an army of petrified minions to light fires for her, so she doesn’t really count. All we know is that as much as we like staring into the flames of a roaring fire, neither Your Mama nor the Dr. Cooter would ever (ever!) bother to haul wood up to the second floor pooper and we certainly would not risk being ripped a new asshole by asking our sometimes splenetic house gurl Svetlana to do such a thing.

The living room has a brick fireplace and a low beamed ceiling as does the dining room which has been painted that particular shade dining room red that is supposed to inspire appetite but always looks a little too bordello for Your Mama’s decorative sensibilities. The country style kitchen features more of the low beamed ceiling found elsewhere on the ground floor and the cabinets looked like that are stained to look like walnut (or some other dark wood) but are not actually walnut (or some other dark wood). As we do in so many celebrity cribs, we find a pot rack hanging over a work island with a butcher block counter top. We know that pot rack is supposed to look charming and sort of Old World scullery-like, but it just looks to Your Mama like it should not be there at all.

A large family room (with even more low wood beamed ceiling) opens through dark stained French doors to a covered flagstone terrace surrounded by a low brick wall. This, my chickens, looks like a perfect spot to whittle away an afternoon with a tall stack of gossip glossies, a big bowl of candy and an ice cold pitcher of gin and tonics. A second covered patio near the front of the house has a criss-crossed brick patio, built-in brick fire place/bbq. The Richardsons used the space as an outdoor dining room with a farm table lit by a chandelier (not the crystal kind) and surrounded by a mix and match collection of spindle backed wood chairs. It ain’t our thing, but it’s really quite lovely.

The simple, rectangular shaped swimming pool sits pleasantly away from the house and is sunk into the lawn with a narrow flagstone coping. A raised area for sun beds behind the pool allows sunbathers an amazing view of the city while frying their skin up in the scorching afternoon sunshine.

The new owner does not appear to be a famous person and we really don’t know where Mister and Missus Richardson have decamped. Perhaps they’ve moved to bigger and better digs in Los Angeles or maybe they’ve gone back to his native Lexington, KY to raise up their toddler out of the limelight and glare of Tinseltown’s paparazzi drama. Wherever they may land, Your Mama wishes them well and hopes they don’t put another damn pot rack in their next house.