MEASURING THE DRIVER AS WELL AS THE CAR
It’s 3 a.m. I can’t sleep, so I flip on the TV. There’s a hard-boiled, black-and-white noir movie on. (At least that’s what I’m always hoping will be on.) Spencer Tracy, in an angled black hat, has a phone receiver pressed tight against his face.
“Yeah, that’s right. Meet me at midnight, down at the docks. You know the place.” He’s quiet for a few seconds, listening, then says, “OK, OK, don’t worry. I’ve got the microfilm.” He pauses, listening again, then blurts, “Look, if you don’t produce Susan, safe and sound, that precious little ‘item’ of yours will be swimming with the fishes!” He slowly places the receiver in the cradle and exhales as he tilts his hat back. Sounds like…
