olumnist Mike Jackson serves up a concoction of short pieces on the time honored subjects, with a West Coast slant. There are memories of a Hollywood boyhood, when Mother dealt out the jello while she paid devoted attendance to Francis . Bushman and Herbert Rawlinson at Grauman's and the Orpheum, and Mike whiled away the time sewing Comical Doilies or practised batting with his Working Brother. There are even fonder memories of the Depression, spent at Laguna Beach eating lobster and vocado until the sad day when someone offered Mike a job. There are the problems nherent in explaining electricity to a small boy and in dealing with women. The ast of characters includes My Old Dog, bought fifteen years before for 34 and still determined to prove his worth. And there is an astounding assortment of odd facts for which the author has a collector's fancy and talent.