Restoration Hardware when she felt his old, nondescript model was no longer worthy of his increasingly successful television
endeavors. On the computer screen is a white Ford Bronco rolling slowly down the 405 freeway in Los Angeles with a phalanx
of police cruisers in lugubrious pursuit. He watches, staring at the screen as the SUV goes down the same stretch of freeway
again and again.
"Did Dustin go to bed okay?"
Stacy, wearing black tights and a clinging tank top, is standing at the door nibbling on a celery stick, a copy of One Hundred Years of Solitude under her well-defined arm.
"He watched Finding Nemo." Not looking up.
"Again?"
"Stacy, what do you want? It's not like he's interested in having a conversation with me. He kept asking when you were coming
home."
She takes this in, not entirely unpleased. Dustin clearly prefers his mother to Lloyd, and although Stacy will not admit this
to her husband, she finds the vote of confidence from their four-year-old affirming. It allows her to look at Lloyd with sympathetic
indulgence.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm changing my screen saver."
"Oh, yeah? To what?"
"The O.J. freeway chase."
"Why would you want to watch that?" The disbelief in her voice exactly what he expects as she walks over to check it out.
"I got tired of Half Dome."
"So you want to look at O.J.? Lloyd, that's kind of weird."
"Bones has the Zapruder film as his screen saver."
"The what?"
This is one of those excruciating marital moments for Lloyd. He shrinks a little inside as he is forced to acknowledge he
has spent the last ten years married to a woman who has no idea what the Zapruder film is. On the other hand, she is reading Garcia Marquez, which suggests a degree of cerebral engagement not necessarily congruent with someone who has seven
active credit cards. If Lloyd were more honest, he would realize that the aspects of Stacy he has grown to dislike are those
he secretly worries are developing within him.
"It's a home movie taken by this private citizen who was in Dealey Plaza the day Kennedy got shot. It's pretty famous."
"Why would I want to know about that? It's sick, anyway, if that's his screen saver." Lloyd has no answer that won't spark
a conflagration, so he remains silent. Stacy looks down at the screen where O.J.'s SUV roils along the same strip of asphalt
in a perpetual loop. She places a hand gently on his shoulder. "So how did the meeting go? Are you going to work on his show?"
He had told her the shoot-em-up with Frank was a standard business lunch.
"No."
Stacy tightens her grip on Lloyd's shoulder without being aware of it.
"Even after Robert asked you?"
"I told you I'm going to pitch my own show and I don't want to do something with Frank that I know is going to crater before
we begin."
"But Robert asked you to, Lloyd. That's a good thing. And his wife called today. She wants me to be on the fund-raising committee
for Save Our Aching Planet."
"Are you going to do it?"
"It's not going to be so easy if her husband requests a little favor and you blow him off."
"Well, I'm gonna ball. I hope that doesn't interfere with your plans."
"Fine. Do whatever you want."
She turns around and walks out, leaving Lloyd to stare at the Ford Bronco, trapped in an endless circle beneath the Los Angeles
sky. There's something about the Bronco chase that's not working for Lloyd. He knows the Zapruder screen saver is better.
Chapter 5
So the reason we have the White Album and Beggars Banquet is because Franklin D. Roosevelt had hair.
Frank is saying this to the crowd at the Comedy Shop on Sunset Boulevard the next evening. He has worked his stoned, gun-range
riff from the previous day into the relatively coherent rant with which he is about to end his set.
Never mind FDR had to walk with an Erector set in his pants. Polio is not what matters to the voting public. What matters,
what's important, what's meaningful to the American electorate is the man
endeavors. On the computer screen is a white Ford Bronco rolling slowly down the 405 freeway in Los Angeles with a phalanx
of police cruisers in lugubrious pursuit. He watches, staring at the screen as the SUV goes down the same stretch of freeway
again and again.
"Did Dustin go to bed okay?"
Stacy, wearing black tights and a clinging tank top, is standing at the door nibbling on a celery stick, a copy of One Hundred Years of Solitude under her well-defined arm.
"He watched Finding Nemo." Not looking up.
"Again?"
"Stacy, what do you want? It's not like he's interested in having a conversation with me. He kept asking when you were coming
home."
She takes this in, not entirely unpleased. Dustin clearly prefers his mother to Lloyd, and although Stacy will not admit this
to her husband, she finds the vote of confidence from their four-year-old affirming. It allows her to look at Lloyd with sympathetic
indulgence.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm changing my screen saver."
"Oh, yeah? To what?"
"The O.J. freeway chase."
"Why would you want to watch that?" The disbelief in her voice exactly what he expects as she walks over to check it out.
"I got tired of Half Dome."
"So you want to look at O.J.? Lloyd, that's kind of weird."
"Bones has the Zapruder film as his screen saver."
"The what?"
This is one of those excruciating marital moments for Lloyd. He shrinks a little inside as he is forced to acknowledge he
has spent the last ten years married to a woman who has no idea what the Zapruder film is. On the other hand, she is reading Garcia Marquez, which suggests a degree of cerebral engagement not necessarily congruent with someone who has seven
active credit cards. If Lloyd were more honest, he would realize that the aspects of Stacy he has grown to dislike are those
he secretly worries are developing within him.
"It's a home movie taken by this private citizen who was in Dealey Plaza the day Kennedy got shot. It's pretty famous."
"Why would I want to know about that? It's sick, anyway, if that's his screen saver." Lloyd has no answer that won't spark
a conflagration, so he remains silent. Stacy looks down at the screen where O.J.'s SUV roils along the same strip of asphalt
in a perpetual loop. She places a hand gently on his shoulder. "So how did the meeting go? Are you going to work on his show?"
He had told her the shoot-em-up with Frank was a standard business lunch.
"No."
Stacy tightens her grip on Lloyd's shoulder without being aware of it.
"Even after Robert asked you?"
"I told you I'm going to pitch my own show and I don't want to do something with Frank that I know is going to crater before
we begin."
"But Robert asked you to, Lloyd. That's a good thing. And his wife called today. She wants me to be on the fund-raising committee
for Save Our Aching Planet."
"Are you going to do it?"
"It's not going to be so easy if her husband requests a little favor and you blow him off."
"Well, I'm gonna ball. I hope that doesn't interfere with your plans."
"Fine. Do whatever you want."
She turns around and walks out, leaving Lloyd to stare at the Ford Bronco, trapped in an endless circle beneath the Los Angeles
sky. There's something about the Bronco chase that's not working for Lloyd. He knows the Zapruder screen saver is better.
Chapter 5
So the reason we have the White Album and Beggars Banquet is because Franklin D. Roosevelt had hair.
Frank is saying this to the crowd at the Comedy Shop on Sunset Boulevard the next evening. He has worked his stoned, gun-range
riff from the previous day into the relatively coherent rant with which he is about to end his set.
Never mind FDR had to walk with an Erector set in his pants. Polio is not what matters to the voting public. What matters,
what's important, what's meaningful to the American electorate is the man
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