I was born in Los Angeles 60 years ago, and some of my earliest memories are of rounding a corner in my dad's car and having him say, "Look over there, they're making a movie." We lived near MGM and knew people who worked there who, like everyone else, were just trying to make a living and were certainly not officious and arrogant.
I don't know why people like letter writer Roy Roudine ("Bah, Movie Makers!," Jan. 2) are so hostile to Hollywood. Probably envy, but it's a sure thing he's had to be inconvenienced for any number of others working in the streets, to detour and wait for a funeral procession, an auto accident, flooding, traffic after a baseball game--it's life in the big city, for goodness' sakes.
