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Nannydaddy
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe should have been speaking about Los Angeles when he wrote, “Know’st thou the land where the lemon-trees bloom, Where the gold orange glows in the deep thicket’s gloom, Where a wind ever soft from the blue heaven blows, And the groves are of laurel and myrtle and rose?” The sent of lemon trees, laurels, and roses rise into the thick blue winter evening below The Broadway marquee. Marquees like this one are from days gone by when a marquee would glow brightly in the sky showing customers the way to the front door. This perspective makes me think of the decline of the golden age; Los Angeles was full of places like The Broadway that were full of starlets there to see and be seen. That time, like the bright marquees, is gone, too, drifting into the blue night with the lemon-tree blossoms.
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