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He saw reality from the point of view of builder versus bureaucracy. He tore the front part of the house off while living in the back, and put an addition up. Then tore out the back and built that new as well, while living in the front. The place was an absolute mess for Mistra to live, and then they also had a child.
I would visit the construction site now and then through the various stages of building. One time he hooked the hot water up to the toilet bowl by mistake. I tried to get him to cut down smoking by introducing him to my reductive system using Sherman cigarettes, with the instructions to just smoke a half at a time. They were strong cigarettes like cigars, and he sucked them down like he had an iron throat and lung. I couldn't believe it. Made me shutter to watch. May have given up on the idea of plying others with solutions to certain psychologies. He had bought the first Honda yellow, which I called a glorified roller skate, and he gave me a ride in it just after he got it. Irony of ironies I now own a Honda.
I had a car accident. My beautiful white Opel station wagon got totalled. I was driving back from Golden Gate Park down a long hill called O'Shanesy Street, with a bunch of people: Jan, some of her kids, don't think Sonoma but maybe my young son Psy, and it was raining. A Buick was coming up the hill and suddenly fish-tailed into our lane and hit us head-on. We were each only doing around five or ten miles an hour, so no one was injured.
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