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Chapter 3

A CHRISTMAS STORY
--San Francisco & Berkeley, December 1982

    [A shorter version of this chapter appeared in Chuck's Newsletter #17, Winter 1989/1990,
as "A Christmas Story".]
    In December 1982, about 3 weeks after my first manic episode at the Las Vegas Hilton, I
flew with Paula to San Francisco for two business meetings. One was in San Rafael with the
number 2 software company for the Apple computer, Broderbund Software. The other was in
Brisbane with the company owned by Paula's friend whom she met in Las Vegas. After we
arrived in San Francisco, I went to rent a car. I discovered that a Lincoln Continental was only
$8 more than a medium-sized Ford, so I rented the Lincoln. Paula liked to wear hats and she
donned one that looked like a chauffeur's hat. I liked the idea of being chauffeured for a change
and I spread out in the back seat with my feet dangling out the window while she drove the
Lincoln beast. It was OK. I was officially crazy.
    We went to Berkeley which I thought was the likeliest prospect for finding the New Age
book that she wanted, The Course in Miracles. She dropped me off at a bookstore and she was
supposed to find a parking space. When I came out of the store, she was nowhere in sight. I
walked blocks looking for her, but she had disappeared, ditching me. I guessed right that she
went to her friend Eugene's house because she had mentioned that he lived in Berkeley. I was
about to call his house when I realized that I did not have his number. After a while, the big
Lincoln pulled up in front of me with Paula the chauffeur and she introduced me to Eugene, a
published writer. We went to five more bookstores in Berkeley but could not find the book.
    We went to a restaurant that he recommended. While they went in to get a table, I went
to a pay phone to reserve a hotel. There was a tall, pretty woman with very long brown hair who
was making a call at the next phone. She looked like an artist and very spiritual. I was right.
Her name was Verusha and she had studied at New England for art and Julliard for music. She
overheard me trying to book a hotel. She suggested an economical hotel. I said, "I don't want a
budget hotel. I want an expensive hotel." This was unlike me, but I explained that I was here on
business and I wanted an expensive hotel to make me feel successful. She sold me a work of
her artistry, an elaborate, delicately-cut butterfly that was also hand-painted in a multitude of
colors. I invited her to eat with us but she could not stay. I felt a spiritual connection with her
and got her address so that I could write to her.
    I booked a room at the Mark Hopkins Hotel where I wanted to stay regardless of cost. It
was $91 a night which I felt to be reasonable for the most prestigious hotel in San Francisco.
The hotel is on Nob Hill across the street from the Fairmont Hotel where I once stayed with my
parents when I was 8-years old.
    Paula and I went to my meeting in Brisbane, south of San Francisco. Although my
contact at this company was Paula's friend Jim, she refused to come in with me and preferred to
read a magazine in the car. Jim and his colleagues were in a very positive mood towards me
and said that they wanted to buy my computer program. They left me alone to set up my
program in a conference room with a computer that did not work. I did what I could to fix the
screen display but it still would not work. I concluded that the computer was not compatible with
mine. I tried to get another computer but there was none available. I could not demonstrate my
program to Jim and the others but by that time I did not care any more. I just wanted to get out
of there and I left. A million dollars down the drain.
    Later that afternoon, Eugene, Paula and I went up to the famous Top of the Mark
restaurant and bar on the top floor of the hotel. The Top of the Mark was famous for the best
view of San Francisco. Eugene suddenly said that he had to make an urgent call and urged
Paula to come with him. I was about 20 feet away from their enclosed phone booth but I could
tell what they were doing and it was not making a call.
    The next day, Paula and I went to my business meeting in San Rafael, north of San
Francisco. It worked out. I signed 2 agreements with Broderbund for me to produce
videogames. One was "San Francisco Cable Car" and the other was to be determined. My main
point during the discussion was that because the real cable cars were out of commission for two
years due to revamping, my game would be the only way for people all over the world to "ride"
the cable cars. I was very happy to sign these agreements. I hesitantly asked the president of
the company what they would be worth. He said about $48,000 a year each minimum. I thought
that these were contracts but found out on the phone with him a couple months later that they
were only agreements. I never did any work on the games except to design the screen image
once with my foot in the sand at the beach. My claim to fame was that when I was at their
offices in San Rafael, the officers of the company were about to be photographed by Fortune
Magazine. The president never wore a tie but needed one for the photo. I loaned him my tie.
Imagine: my tie in Fortune.
    Back in San Francisco, we were in the wharf area. We were at a shopping area called
Pier 37. I went window shopping by myself and then found Paula in the bar with the Bear
Brothers, Grizzly and Bear. They looked a little like me, brown hair and beard, medium height
and a slight paunch. They told everyone who passed by that they were porno film stars and that
they were paid $1,000 a day for doing what they did for free on their day off.
    Paula wanted to shop so the four of us went to Macy's. We were all looking at a $6,000
white mink coat when we were thrown out for looking like we could not afford it. We went to a
small shop straight across the street. She shopped while the Bears and I bid "Merry Christmas"
to the people passing by. I kept track of their responses. Half of the people did not answer and
started walking quickly to get away from us. The other half smiled and wished us a Merry
Christmas.
    The next day, Paula parked the Lincoln Continental at a meter and we wound up
shopping all day. I bought $200 worth of T-shirts from one store. I found out later that this was a
typical manic shopping spree. I thought it was just because I liked T-shirts. To this day, I am
reluctant to buy more than one at a time.
    That evening, Paula and Eugene stayed in the car on Van Ness while I went around the
corner to withdraw from an ATM. There was a very loud noise of a car backfiring that could have
passed for a gunshot. Eugene went to see if I were all right. He came back to Paula with a
shocked look on his face and said, "It's the most terrible thing I've ever seen." She thought that I
was shot to death and started to get hysterical. Eugene then smiled and said that he was
kidding. She then told him that that was the worst thing that he had ever done to her.
    Later that evening I needed to relax and forget all of the details of the past few days. I
took a very long bubble-bath in the glass-enclosed tub and watched the magnificent view of the
San Francisco skyline and the Transamerica pyramid building.
    The next day we drove to the airport and returned the Lincoln. The rental car company
said that I should not pay for it now but would be billed out of their Beverly Hills location. I never
received a bill so I got about $150 worth of Lincoln Continental for nothing. I hope they are not
reading this. We flew to the L.A. airport. Before we got home, I stopped at the Bodhi Tree
Bookstore and bought The Course in Miracles. I knew that they would have it if no one in
Berkeley did. Getting the book was my start in spiritual and creative pursuits for therapy. My
next step was in meeting Dr. Barbara, head of a center for using art in therapy.

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