I ended this Southern
California swing back "home" -- as in the Frolic Room, Hollywood's ultimate dive,
among drifters, punks and instant philosophers of the 47% variety. It certainly
beats reading a RAND corporation report.
The Frolic Room -- with its superb neon sign -- is where the real Black Dahlia used to sip her martinis in the 1940s, before she was delivered her Big Sleep, tragically, horrendously murdered. And now we wait -- not for death, which is a certainty, but for Obama and Mitt to show us at least the glimpse of a worthy vision, a palpable dream.
Forget it; a Hollywood lie is all we're gonna get.
The Frolic Room -- with its superb neon sign -- is where the real Black Dahlia used to sip her martinis in the 1940s, before she was delivered her Big Sleep, tragically, horrendously murdered. And now we wait -- not for death, which is a certainty, but for Obama and Mitt to show us at least the glimpse of a worthy vision, a palpable dream.
Forget it; a Hollywood lie is all we're gonna get.
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