We made a lot of phone calls—from Fresno, I think—trying to find an apartment that would take us on a month-to-month basis with pets. Finally, we found one in San Mateo, so we packed up the car and the trailer and made the drive.
The Sony office was in Brisbane, so the initial 23-mile commute wasn’t too bad, depending on the traffic. I reported to work the next Monday and was greeted by Rahl, who had a great smile and a welcoming handshake. He had planned a sales meeting and proceeded to introduce me to the staff.
For the rest of the week, I shadowed Chris Pappas, the salesman whose workload I was splitting. Chris was a wonderful guy with a big, welcoming Greek personality, and he introduced me to many of my new customers. He was transitioning into the key account role, which meant I was taking over all the dealers from San Francisco north.
And what a time it was to be selling for Sony. The year was 1970, and we were walking into dealerships armed with the absolute bleeding-edge of global technology. Our catalogs were packed with the revolutionary Trinitron color TVs, which completely blew the competition out of the water with their brightness and clarity. We were pitching the first portable cassette recorders with built-in microphones, massive quadradial stereos, and digital clock radios. We weren't just moving electronics; we were selling the future to the Bay Area.
For the next year, Chris and I became great friends—and fierce rivals. We were both very aggressive and worked incredibly hard pitching those Trinitrons and stereos, constantly trying to beat each other for the "Salesman of the Month" award.
I was 28 years old and still smoking around two packs a day. One afternoon, I came home from work and went to change into something more comfortable. When I walked back into the living room, Michele had my pack of cigarettes in her hand. I asked her to give them to me, but she started to cry.
“Daddy, I don’t want you to die," she said. "These cigarettes are killing you.”
I was stunned and asked her how she knew that.
“They say that every day on Sesame Street,” she replied.
Then, she proceeded to crush each cigarette and throw them in the garbage. All I could do was watch in amazement at my four-year-old daughter, who clearly knew more than I did.
So, I began the long, hard journey of quitting. It wasn't easy; for at least five years, I still wanted a cigarette, especially after going out for a drink with a customer or a group of sales friends.
Looking back now, over 50 years later, I know that moment changed my fate. My lungs are still scarred from the 13 years I did smoke, and the doctors have told me point-blank that if I hadn’t stopped exactly when I did, I would have been dead by 60.
It is amazing to see how life comes full circle. That little girl who threw away my cigarettes proceeded to graduate college with a nursing degree, and later graduated from the University of Washington as a Nurse Practitioner. Now, she monitors and advises me on all my medical care. She is simply amazing.
Thank you, Michele, for giving me a longer, fuller lifetime. I love you big time, and I always will.
Georgia did some research on buying a house, and we soon decided to head up there and look around. Our good friends Lenny and Alice Gielerowski—who lived down in the Los Angeles area with their daughters, Kimberly and Denise—came to San Mateo for a visit. We asked a friend to watch the kids so the four of us adults could go house hunting across the bay.
House Hunting in Marin County: The Tiburon Sticker Shock
I don’t remember exactly how we ended up in the wealthy coastal town of Tiburon, but we did, and we somehow found our way into a real estate office.
All four of us walked in and explained our needs to a realtor. She quickly asked what price range we were interested in, "Around $40,000," we told her. She looked at us and asked, "Per couple?" We quickly explained that no, that budget was just for us! She politely informed us that the absolute lowest price for a very small house in the Tiburon area was $80,000. With a smile, she told us to drive a little further north to Terra Linda, a part of San Rafael, where we might just find something a bit more affordable.
We ended up paying $41,500 for that house and moved in within a few weeks. Georgia’s cousin Danny and his wife lived in Marin County at the time. Having lived in the Midwest for most of our lives, we hadn’t really experienced the fabulous beauty of the San Francisco area yet. Driving north through the city and across the Golden Gate Bridge was an absolutely eye-opening experience for any newcomer
We took a ride up to Terra Linda, a cute town set in a valley between the hills. It’s located about 15 miles north of the Golden Gate Bridge. The rolling hills and beauty of the area were captivating and as we rolled over the last hill into Terra Linda, we felt like this is the place we need to live.
We met with another real estate person, who took us around. Within a couple of hours, we found a 1300-square-foot single-story house with a nice yard and deep garage.
We only lived in the apartment for a month before we bought this 3 bedroom house. The deep garage had a small workshop, which I quickly turned into my home office. This meant I wouldn’t need to drive 32 traffic-packed miles, a one hour trip at best. When I did have to go to the office, I would leave very early, grab a coffee on the way and get in when the warehouse opened at 7 am. My normal day avoided the rush hours because my appointments were all scheduled after 9 am and before 2 pm, so I could get home before rush hour got bad.
Golden Gate Bridge toll $.25
That move completely changed my daily routine. Suddenly, my commute to the Brisbane office meant driving over the Golden Gate Bridge every day.
We didn’t have cell phones in those days, so it was best to hit the desk and make all your appointments before starting the day or the week. It was a high-tech career, but we lived a humble reality.
We only had one car, so Georgia would stay back at the new house to take care of Michele and Scott. They would wait for me to come home just so we could do the shopping, or sit down together to have dinner.
Danny, and his wife, taught us how to play tennis. Danny’s job at the phone company began around 9 am, so he and I would play tennis from 7 am to 8 am, almost every day before we had to get ready for work. For six months, the weather was perfect. We were very happy living there.