On a sweltering Saturday, Donald Tobkin suns himself poolside behind the pinky-peach monolith that is the Ramada Inn on Hollywood Beach. Children scamper and catapult themselves into the turquoise pool. Shore birds honk overhead. From this spot, perhaps a couple of hundred yards from the surf, the sea is smelled but not seen, the salt scent overlapping that of chlorine and coconut sludge smeared on Canadian... More >>>