It's the dog days of August. Bridges are collapsing. The stock market is tanking. Uncle Sam is slowly bleeding from an open wound called the Iraq war. One begins to get the feeling that this big, old empire is held together with chewing gum and baling wire. Are we finally at the "wizard of oz" moment? When we see the man behind the curtain is just a smiling, glad-handing, buffoon?
In my version of the movie, when the Wizard was exposed, Toto would have turned to the lovely Judy Garland, the famous snare drum would kick in, Michael Bloomfield's guitar would start wailing and Toto (with a dylanesque growl) would sing: "Once upon a time, you dressed so fine..." And then, at the chorus, the Tin Man, the Scarecrow and the Cowardly Lion would all join in: "How does it feel? To be on your own, no direction home, like a rolling stone?"