they’d say  "Where did you go? And I’d answer "Well I went to Bedside Baptist. My pastor is Pastor Sheet," (meaning I’d slept in today) and not only that, I’m feeling proud that I did, cause religion is not making any sense to me. I don't know what to believe anymore." One day I went to a travel agent breakfast. They're continually having these breakfasts, they feed the agents and send them on trips. This breakfast was given by Mexicana who was pushing Mexico. We were sitting there at the Hyatt Hotel, having breakfast, and there was this person sitting next to me. I was drawn to him and we exchanged phone numbers. He was a travel agent who knew business very well and slowly we became friends. I was not used to living in Francisco and I found it a very confusing place. But at this breakfast I met Wayne Myers, who has lived in San Francisco for many years, and really appreciates the city.

One day he said, "I really want to show you North Beach." We walked around North Beach and I thought it was delightful. Suddenly, I was seeing San Francisco through someone else's eyes. We'd go to Coit Tower and watch ships in the bay. Suddenly, I started sensing something. I had divorced myself from the Church, from Catholicism, from the Charismatic movement and yet I was with somebody who was looking at life, at everyday experiences and I was starting to see things through his eyes. Suddenly, life was becoming spiritual. I don't need to have some crazy experience. I didn't need to demonstrate some kind of power, didn't need to pray for someone 's healing. I was experiencing something here and it was just someone looking at life. Sitting there with Wayne, watching the ships was just beautiful. Life was beautiful. My depression was starting to lift. One night he said, "Have you seen the Haight? I was a hippie in the Haight." We toured the Haight. Soon we were getting together every Friday night, and for me, that was my feeding experience spiritually. I was living for Friday nights when I could spend time with him. One day, he invited me over to his home on [in] Oakland, the first time that I had ever been, I walked around and I was amused because it was such a typically hippie pad. I sat on one of the mattresses on the floor you know, looked at the batik that was hanging there, and in the room there was a picture. I asked, "What's that picture over there?" He was making herbal tea in the kitchen, and he said, "Meher Baba." I said to myself, he looks like some kind of guru or something. He didn't mention to me that he was into any kind of religion. How strange! This delightful person is into some kind of religion? I never thought about this about him.

Well, time passed, a few weeks, another Friday night. Another feeding time for me. I was really starting to get over this depression. You don't know how wonderful it felt. I was starting to feel a lift. I was gaining ground again. I called him up and asked him where we could have dinner together and he said, "You know, I'm not able to have dinner with you tonight." I said, "But it's Friday. I've looked forward to this all week long. Why not?" He was very hesitant and later I appreciated his hesitancy. Finally, he said, "Tonight I'm going to a birthday party." I was disappointed because he didn't invite me along. I thought I can look like a hippie if I try, so I said, "Well, whose birthday is it?" (I thought if I mentioned the birthday, maybe he'd invite me along. He said, "It's Meher Baba's birthday." Oh my God, it's that guru, I said to myself. He had already told me that Meher Baba was dead, but hurried to add that people celebrated his birthday. Then he hemmed and hawed a little bit and said, "You're perfectly welcome to come with me if you want to. It's in Albany, though, we have to take the bus." By that time, I didn't know — I was disappointed about missing our regular meeting — but finally I agreed to go. I hung up the phone and immediately called an Evangelical friend of mine. I said, "Gary, you'll never believe where I’m going tonight. To some guru's birthday." He said, "You're kidding. Well, I can sense your need to search for things, but you should be careful. You know the devil is out