Word: boulevard
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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...renews the scholarly pursuit. Philip Langdon's Orange Roofs, Golden Arches (Knopf; $30) is an exhaustive social history of chain restaurants. Googie: fifties coffee shop architecture (Chronicle Books; $12.95) is a more polemical and quirky work. Author Alan Hess, a California architect, takes as his nostalgic prototype a Sunset Boulevard snack shop built in 1949 and zigzags through a hot-rod-and-chili-dog architectural tour that celebrates old McDonald's outlets, car washes and Las Vegas casinos--all the pushy, flimsy '50s buildings that Hess calls "agitprop for the commercial future...
Among the hand holders: Jazzercise enthusiasts along Wilshire Boulevard in Los Angeles, 500 Little Leaguers at Three Rivers Stadium in Pittsburgh, scores of drum majorettes, dozens of disabled teenagers, gatherings of Hopi and Navajo tribesmen, a family of robots, some 20 parachutists, 600 guests celebrating an Italian wedding, a mile-long chain of blind people whose places were paid for by Singer Lionel Richie, a group of Hell's Angels, and hundreds of the destitute themselves. Along the way: concerts, frat parties, even a couple of weddings. Everyone wanted to get in on the act: a group of lifers...
...streaks across the Hollywood Hills toward the gigantic Tower Records store on Sunset Boulevard. Molly pops into the dashboard tape deck a cassette by her favorite Los Angeles band, the Rave-Ups. The glove compartment is so stuffed with tapes it won't close, and the back seat is littered with the plastic placentas of cassette containers. The bikers and pink-haired punkettes hanging out in front of Tower Records recognize Molly even before she parks, but the mode is cool: a slow nod, a thin smile and distance. In one corner of the store, David Lee Roth, the motor...
Vidor felt obliged to present his solution to Minter, whom he remembered as a beautiful nymphet. He found a grossly obese sexagenarian living in a dusty % and heavily curtained mausoleum. In a scene out of Sunset Boulevard, or even Great Expectations, she answered his questions by reading poems, which all bore the byline of her hated mother. When Vidor asked her to confirm his theory, she snapped: "You don't know anything about it. Mr. Taylor was a great man." Then as Vidor pressed harder, she sobbed: "My mother killed everything I ever loved." Well, what good would...
...city that was at one time a cosmopolitan gateway to the Middle East. Last week in the Muslim-controlled western sector, new depths were achieved when gunmen turned their vengeance on an 84-year-old Frenchman. Camille Sontag and his wife Blanche, 85, were driving along a seaside boulevard when a cab blocked their way. Gunmen leaped from the vehicle and pressed a pistol to Sontag's temple. Seconds later he was packed into the cab and driven away, bringing to nine the number of French currently believed to be held by extremists. The Sontags, who made their home...