and everywhere else in Los Angeles, a nervous citizenry is consumed with a black thought: Will the Dodgers blow the pennant again? Nurtured on Hollywood improbables, Dodger fans enjoy suspense, but they enjoy it most when the U.S. Cavalry arrives on time. Last year the detested Giants stormed the town, massacred the Dodgers, and the Cavalry never did show up. Outwardly, L.A. life goes on as usual this week. But not really. The recollection of the Dodgers' final resting place in 1962 is too fresh. Though the city's monument-minded morticians maintain their normally sober mien, crossed fingers reveal their primary concern. Movie stars lounge, body-beautiful boys strut and evangelists warn of another kind of doom—as always—but the message is not getting through. In Los Angeles there is one thought: survival.