I suppose we can now draw the final curtain on the "old Hollywood" -- thanks to her it lasted a very long time, long past the time that it flourished, but I think we can now say is at last gone to its rest. A strange manufactured world of Gables and Grants, of Loys and Powells, of rich playboys, gumchewing dames, open roads and Manhattan dance floors. Smart talkers, dangerous vamps, farm women up to their elbows in suds, policemen breaking into song and dance, gangsters and schoolteachers, aristocrats and bums. Now we can put it away in tissue paper, into its shiny box, into the glass bubble of memory that only requires a shake, and there comes raining down "more stars than are in the heavens".

"Oh Dext', I'm such an unholy mess."
"That's no good, that's not even conversation".



yours, Peter T.