Tallulah Breakwater and the Secret Origins of the Molotov Cocktail Hour

Tallulah Breakwater was born on the 10 Freeway West during a lightning storm that illuminated her parents' sedan so brightly and furiously it was as if a thousand paparazzi had come to witness her birth. Yet, amidst the tropical chaos there was only the presence of her ashen-faced father, cursing mother, and the deejay playing "Quiet Village" on the radio - enveloped in a cocoon of steel, glass, pounding rain and tropical bird calls, her arrival was otherwise silently passed by the rest of the world and a couple of semis outside.

From that moment on, Tallulah knew she was to either become a lady of the lanes or a disembodied voice in the air. Since Los Angeles remains tollbooth free and her complexion makes it impossible for her to wear crossing guard orange, she opted to pursue the latter.

Many sunrises later but still many moons ago, she found herself in Chinatown, in search of some crispy gau gee and a couple of rumaki but instead found her favorite horrible restaurant transformed into a Mecca for people her own age, swaying, arms akimbo, entranced by the exotic sounds as brought to them by The Man Ran Amok. She knew The Man Ran Amok charted the undercurrents of the underbelly, so the time had come for her to sail the ancient routes of passage. For too long Tallulah believed the languid, decadent spirits had only occupied her head and the garage sales of El Segundo. Acting on the guidance (or some would say manipulation) of the Loa, she set in motion a scheme to manifest them as 3000 watts of midnight. Riding on the swift trade winds from San Pedro, she weaved a tapestry of menace, magnetism and Mel (Torme).

So, on a night not dissimilar to the one of her birth, "The Molotov Cocktail Hour" was brought forth as she was, in a cocoon of steel, glass, and pounding rain, with Martin Denny on the airwaves, its arrival otherwise silently passed by the rest of the world and a couple of semis outside.