Alma mater

Tom always hitchhiked to college, up the coast from LA to Santa Barbara. Hitchhiking was acceptable then, as opposed to now when hitchhikers becamenthe kind of people you'd never dream of picking up.

Somewhere above Malibu, a sweet red car pulled to the side of the road. When Tom caught up to the car he could see the driver clearly, a middle aged man with dark wavy hair.

Where you going, the man asked?

Santa Barbara, Tom replied.

That's where I'm headed, the man said.

And off they went.

Conversation was easy--they talked football, surfing, girls, college life. The man said he'd never gone to college, regretted it, that he'd dropped out of high school and enlisted in the Marines.

The miles swam by, the man and Tom never stopped talking.

Near Santa Barbara the man asked Tom where he wanted to be let out. He asked because in those days US 101 had a series of stoplights through the main part of town. The man was heading to Montecito and could drop Tom at the first stoplight.

Just south of the first light, the man pulled to the side of the road. Tom opened the passenger door, reaching in the back to fetch his backpack. The man waited while Tom hoisted his pack, cinched it around his middle, and then leaned over and said, "don't you know who I am?"

The man didn't sound angry or hurt, only puzzled that Tom hadn't recognized an actor as famous as James Garner.