A typical June evening in Santa Monica, California was made up of many different activities embodying a sizable city: fathers relaxing in front of the TV with a cold one, night spots opening up, kids staying out later to play, college students busy studying for finals in night class, beach crowds going home, and evening joggers fading into the setting sun. June nights were usually pleasant here; a windbreaker or light sweater would suffice for an outdoor stroll. It was good weather for a barbecue. Over on Hill Street, Carl had just finished the first day of his second week at the KALT Corporation, a company which supplied just about every piece of photographic equipment you could think of. Unlike the previous summer when VOLT Temporary Services had given him numerous two-day or one-week jobs, he'd have this job for the whole summer -- and he'd landed it with the first phone call to VOLT. Still, working from 7:30 to 5 was a long day by his standards and he was hungry and a little worn out. He decided to go for a walk. He went to Jan & Joe's Liquor Store on Pico Blvd. at the city line, and bought a snack and a bottle of soda. This being a Monday night, the new National Inquisitor had just hit the stands and he needed something to read. Carl didn't buy the Inquisitor every week, just when he was in the mood for good fiction. He always got a kick out of the idea of people making money passing this stuff off as fact. He often caught himself reading one of the more down-to-earth human interest stories and wondering if it was true after all and the Inquisitor had just put it there to give themselves some credibility. But then again.....naahh. He began to flip the pages a couple of times. Hmmm. Let's look over on this page. Oh man. Some French guy named Paul Balay has been in a coma since 1956 and his mother comes to visit him every day. Wow that was sad. Hope that never happens to me. Then he turned to page five. There, staring him in the face, was an article that not only caught his attention but held it hostage for quite a long time. Across the top of the page were emblazoned thirteen words that would set this decade in motion: America's Little Princess Grows Up Tiny Girl Beats Big Odds To Reach 17 The story, taking up practically the whole page, told of a young girl born with a rare disorder known as "ring one chromosome." She was only four-foot-three, a little slow, but friendly as anything -- and appeared to be single and unattached. Carl read the article again, and still again. Her name was Denise Gottlieb. She liked to wear designer jeans, she could ride a bicycle, she could cook. The entire town loved her. Despite losing her adoptive father to a heart attack, she'd kept her sunny disposition for which she was soon dubbed "Sergeant of Smiles" by the local police department. Now, The Inquisitor is known for the low quality of its photographs; it can sometimes make even the sexiest Hollywood starlet look like yesterday's lunch. Despite the photographic shortcomings, Denise didn't look too bad -- and if she “didn’t look too bad” in one of their photos, she must have looked great in real life! Carl's favorite photo was one of her standing on a chair next to a stove, with the caption "VITAL INGREDIENT when Denise is cooking is a chair -- so she can see what she's making!" She looked pretty cute in that shot. And sweet seventeen too. It didn't take but a few minutes for 21-year-old Carl to develop a crush on her -- and begin devising a plan to meet her. The bad news was that she lived far away: 500 miles from Santa Monica, in the town made famous by the Eagles' song Take It Easy: Winslow, Arizona. The good news was that near the end of July Carl would be taking a road trip to Canada with Craig Martin and David Henry. This trip would involve at least two stops in Arizona. He'd never been there before. Carl had been a little hesitant about going on a cross-country trip with Craig, ever since the idea was proposed on February 1 during a snow trip to Angeles National Forest. He was now a little leery of Craig's driving habits, considering Craig had gone up Angeles Crest Highway with tires squealing on almost every turn. Even though Craig was a skillful driver who had taught him how to drive a stick shift, Carl couldn't help but be a little apprehensive about going. Any apprehensions were overridden by more pleasant thoughts of Denise's Prince Charming riding into town in a little yellow chariot, sweeping her off her feet, taking her as his bride and living happily ever after. He couldn't wait to go. In the early morning of July 25th, they set out. First they visited Fred Morgan in Tucson, then Craig's uncle and David's grandparents, all of whom lived up in Prescott. From here, it was only 147 miles to Winslow. Carl begged and pleaded with them to PLLLLEEEEEEEASE go to Winslow after the Grand Canyon. But no dice. The closest they would get would be a little town called Kayenta, on the way up to Four Corners. Arizona wouldn't even figure on the way back. Although the Canada trip did not have a Carl-and-Denise meeting as its biggest triumph, it had more than its share of memorable moments: Carl almost crashing into a horse; Craig and David doing impromptu rafting down a stream in Colorado; Carl breaking a pop-tart into four pieces and circling the Four Corners monument eating one piece at a time and then standing on one foot in the center of the monument; Craig taking a bath in a lake on a cold windy day; TV Guides from every state piling up in Carl's suitcase; Craig buying cheap supermarket sodas that tasted like motor oil; the three of them going the wrong way for an hour one night because the highway signs were too small (and Craig driving back the other way at over 80 mph to make up for the lost time); the three making an "illegal" campsite behind a hill in Yellowstone National Park because all the campgrounds were full; David putting in a Led Zeppelin tape his brother copied from an album and hearing the same guitar riff for fifteen minutes because the record had started skipping after his brother left the room; the three of them buying $15 worth of fireworks in Wyoming; spending over an hour at the border station and having everything taken out of their car while other cars were just briefly glanced over; the fireworks getting seized by Canadian customs; Banff National Park in Alberta; missing the Royal Wedding; playing in the snow somewhere in Washington state (in August); Dave Moylan's house near Seattle (the lap of luxury after endless nights in a tent); finding a small box of fireworks the customs agents missed; staying in a motel in Anderson the night before they came home; and dozens of bad photographs. There wouldn't be another trip quite like that one. When they got back, Craig received word that he'd been laid off his job at BFA Educational Media. If Craig Martin and David Henry had known just how long the Winslow thing would be dragged out, they probably would have had the heart to stop there. Carl kept the Inquisitor article. Although various events would keep Denise out of the picture for awhile, he would come to remember her time and again.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LS-oyLm-_fg

A mild earthquake was felt in Los Angeles on September 4, Carl's last day at KALT. The next day, he headed off to Thousand Oaks to begin his junior year at Cal Lutheran. Carl had launched his radio career in March, 1980, with the help of Alicia Thornton. He'd since come a long way at the station, and now it seemed he'd be a shoo-in for the title of Music Director. He'd expressed an interest in the job the previous school year, and by May 1981 had three semesters of DJ work under his belt plus a knowledge of both top-40 and progressive music, which helped. The staff meeting was held on September 14. After talking with station manager, Carl got the job and a key to the station. On September 18, Carl met a preacher's daughter named Jennifer Appling and had a brief romance with her. Things moved too fast and it fell apart five days later. November 13 found Carl at the pub with Andy and his ladyfriend Carolynne. It turns out this girl had a sister named Dianna who was newly unattached. He finally landed a date with her in mid-December. He took her to see the movie Neighbors (John Belushi's last film.) Carl must have looked like a real klutz on this date. The fact that this girl had once dated a member of the band The Surf Punks didn't help his image any. Neither did that fact that Carl had to use that---that---that CAR. Nor did the tacky red sweater he wore to her house. Or a slip-o-the-lip he made about one of her homemade gingerbread men. When all was said and done, it became obvious that a high-class girl like Dianna was just a little out of his league. Needless to say, she wasn't impressed.

Carl's prize cat, Homer Iliad, died suddenly on January 21. About a week later he was watching television in the SUB and met a smiling, outgoing dude who was very active in the school's drama department. He had much in common with Carl, namely movies, girl problems and rebellion against the college's conformist social elite. He was a rather short fellow, Asian in appearance; a stocky, bearded freshman with the unlikely name of Hercules Simpson. Carl and Herc formed an immediate bond. They would spend many a night sneaking into the New Earth to make hot dogs, and going to the Chuck E. Cheese in Simi Valley with a third guy, Stuart Scott, to spend the tokens Carl had gotten. Dianna eventually got back with her old boyfriend, but given Carl's sloppiness on that date he doesn't blame her. Hey, by now she was probably telling her friends about the Date from Hell. By the spring, his thoughts were once again turning toward winning the heart of a young lady a little more his speed: Denise Gottlieb, the girl in Winslow. Early April, 1982: Argentina was invading the Falklands, several men with chainsaws were frantically trying to free three whales stuck under the Arctic ice, and the students of California Lutheran College were beginning a week-long break. Ah, the spring. The big problem with meeting Denise was getting to Winslow in the first place. Craig and David came up with a little plan: next time they went to Prescott to visit their relatives, Carl could come with them, then take a bus or a train to Winslow. (Driving across unfamiliar desert in an unpredictable 1965 Rambler was pretty much out of the question.) Carl went to the Auto Club and got a tour book for Arizona.

CONTINUED...

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