I, Max Royster, cannot run fifty yards or see my own feet under a beer belly. Pushing 64-years old, I struggle to rebuild, after the New York cops fired me for depression and hijacked my pension. Like everything else sliding around loose, I wind up in Hollywood, California.
By chance, I see a female Black LAPD cop grapple with a homeless woman, an ex-Blaxploitation film actress who 40-years ago turned Civil Rights radical.
The homeless woman dies.
Sidewalk Angelenos heave rocks and bottles in protest.
Los Angeles screams. Cops retreat and haul me to the...
I, Max Royster, cannot run fifty yards or see my own feet under a beer belly. Pushing 64-years old, I struggle to rebuild, after the New York cops ...
