The '60's are sure enough over for all of us, and especially for Angelina Green, out of the black ghetto of Detroit, M.A. Berkeley in Spanish, and just hanging in there on Grant Street searching for her identity while hanging back from the heavy drug and booze scene, getting into Transcendental Meditation, teaching at an alternative school and being tight with her old father who gets mugged and shot by jive hoodlums while she's off in Mexico recuperating from her own recent bust and making love to Watusi, a right-on macho with a lot of bread. Yes, it's over and time for Getting Straight: ""Bebop done played out. Beatniks done played out. . . . Bomb shit done played out. Psychedelic shit done played out. Bullshit revolution done played out. Hippies done played out and, look here, I'll tell you somethin -- nigger shit done just about played out too."" And on we go to a fortune-teller in Menlo Park, several liberated no-hold love affairs (""Touch had to mean something this time. She wanted it to mean something. She dared it to mean something. It had to mean something. The tongue plunged. . .""), vegetarianism, the Prana Society and ail that fashionable bourgeois California raised-consciousness shit, here today, done played out tomorrow.