Growing Up Then and Now

Chapter 15

We’re in the News Again   

     We arrived in San Luis Obispo at dusk, to visit a guy Skip put on the list, too late to find the back road over the last mountain range to Muir Beach, so we parked in the Walmart lot.  We’d heard that Walmarts – across the land – were okay with RVs and their occupants staying overnight and it turned out to be true.  There were almost a dozen RVs already parked when we pulled in.  We were glad to arrive in the cover of darkness having had our fill of adventure for the day.

       Over a Walmart supper of pan-fried salmon, corn-on-the-cob, and salad, Skip told us about how he got to know his Muir Beach friend Rick Feldman, a former major league pitcher.  

     Skip Dewar’s claim to fame back in the Cities was being a politician, with a winning record, but his first claim to fame was baseball.  After a so-so college pitching career, he taught political science, and coached both Little League and high school baseball.  In the summer, he made a name for himself doing the play-by-play for the minor league baseball team.  In the inner-city neighborhood that elected him to office nine times, he was “Skip.”  “At the legislature, it was “Scotchy.”  Some of us on the bus knew him as the Sunday morning barefoot, bare-handed softball player on our co-rec team, the Saint Paul Riff-Raff, also starring Patty, Huck and Rocky. 

     Skip got to know Rick Feldman when Rick was pitching for the Saint Paul Saints.  Back in the day, minor leaguers often stayed during the season at some local’s home, and Skip took Rick in.  Rick eventually made it to the major leagues, playing for the Dodgers, but his first love was horticulture, and thus the backyard orchard/nursery in Muir Beach we were about to visit.

     Waking up early in cramped sleeping quarters, Steve, our lawyer, went for a jog in the early morning haze and came back with the morning papers.  (He had drawn the short stick the night before, which meant sleeping in the Land Yacht’s reclining passenger seat.)  We all woke up when he came back exclaiming “We made the paper!” and read the story out loud:

Strange Goings on at the Hearst Castle

Patty Hearst Redux?

National AP Wire Services

Dateline:  San Simeon, California, Tuesday, October 18, 2022

      Monday was a weird day at the Hearst Castle.  No one seems to know if it was really Patty Hearst who showed up at her grandfather’s castle yesterday with a group called “The Rumpkins.” Hearst has been mostly out of the public eye for years, reportedly living in Mexico since the death of her husband.  This reporter was unable to make contact with her or her immediate family.

     Patty Hearst was in the headlines in the 1970s after being kidnapped by a radical group known as the Symbionese Liberation Army (or SLA), and then, according to her family, brainwashed into joining the revolutionary group as a gun-toting, anti-capitalist foe of the American way of life in general and her family’s fortune and newspaper empire in particular.  The government saw Hearst as a willing participant in the SLA’s criminal activity.  At her trial she testified that all appearances and statements that she was a sympathizer of the SLA’s cause were due to her being drugged and brainwashed, but after the trial there was speculation that her testimony was based on family threats to disown her unless she told her family’s version of the truth. 

     Around mid-day yesterday, the Castle’s tour bus operator had an apparent heart attack, lost control of his vehicle, and almost ran down some tourists.  One of these so-called “Rumpkins” was on the bus at the time and grabbed the wheel before anybody was hurt.  Another “Rumpkin,” who said he was a doctor, came to the aid of the driver, who, it turned out, was just pretending to have a heart attack.  Things then got weirder yet.  The “doctor” claimed the high cost of prescriptions was responsible for the man’s heart failure and the crowd of onlookers took up a chant of “Lock Trump up!”   At that point some woman climbed on a table top and told the crowd of about a hundred tourists she was Patty Hearst and now a member of the “Rumpkins” group. 

     Mrs. Prescott Pemberton, visiting from Maine, saw the whole thing:

“It all happened so fast,” she said, “but you could tell, whoever they were, they wanted Donald Trump locked-up – and it surprised me so many tourists seemed to agree.”

     According to the California Highway Patrol, this was all staged by a traveling street theatre group out of San Francisco known as “The Rumpkins.”

     The bus driver was interviewed and confirmed that he was paid to act the role of a heart attack victim.  He said the Rumpkins told him they were shooting a movie about a terrorist plot to mow down all the tourists in the garden. 

     The State Trooper on the scene admitted he had never heard of the SLA and didn’t connect the dots that the name “Patty Hearst” had any special significance.  It’s still unknown if this was a re-appearance of the real Patty Hearst.  She has some history as an actress.

     The manager of the state park site, Thomas Kolavitch, said no one was hurt and everything was back to normal within minutes. 

     Attempts to contact the Rumpkins last night were unsuccessful.  They were last seen driving south on Highway 1 in a rainbow painted RV with Minnesota license plates.  Possible charges include “causing intentional unnecessary deployment of police resources.”

                                        –End of Story–

     After hearing the newspaper account, Steve dialed the L.A. Times to report that it was indeed a group of actors and not the real Patty.  Also, Sally got on our website to, as she put it, “not exaggerate, tell the truth.  I don’t want us busted!” – although some of us wanted to maybe play this up a bit longer.

     With breakfast delayed due to all the excitement, we opted for Walmart sweet rolls and a quick departure, but not before someone in the parking lot exclaimed, “There it is!  The Rainbow Family RV!”   Turned out to be friendly fire.  The guy who shouted waved us to a halt, told us we were already famous in RV circles.  “Yah, wow, far-out man,” he started with an almost ear-to-ear grin, “Lots of us talk as we visit, ya know, and this mornin’ we was all asking around if anybody’d seen ya.”  Then his wife came ambling up and wanted to know if we were really Rainbow Family.  She had been to every Rainbow Gathering since the first one in 1972 at Strawberry Lake in Colorado.

     “I was there too!”  Huck exclaimed.  So we invited them into the Land Yacht, where Huck and Sunshine (that was the name she gave us) could recount their adventures at Strawberry Lake (maybe even having seen each other back then). 

     “Did you go naked in the sauna?” Sunshine asked.

     “Were you part of the group that had to hike in the back-way ‘cos of the police roadblock?” Huck asked.

     “Did you do the acid?” they asked each other.

      After a few minutes we said we had to be going.  “Naw, stick around,” said Peaches – that was his name – “You should meet some of the rest of us staying here.” 

     “We’re already a day late to catch up with our buddy,” Skip said.  “We’ve got to get going.”

     “Where ya goin’?  Maybe we’ll follow you,” Peaches said grinning. 

     “Nahh, my buddy’s already uptight there are so many of us,” Skip replied. 

      “Well, where you goin’ after that?  We could have some fun together,” Sunshine piped in.

     Leaving the parking lot, Huck said, “Wow!  Friends from the 60s – still hippies!”

     “I don’t know, seemed kind of ‘out of it’ to me,” Patty said.

     “Kind of scruffy-looking to me,” said Sally.  Sunshine (the female) had cut-off shorts (way high cut off shorts, right to the crotch) and was very bouncy (with no bra).  Peaches (the male) had a cherubic, roly-poly pumpkin-like face under a scraggly beard, and hair down to his waist, and, apparently, a never-ending grin. 

SECOND PART of Hearst Castle Caper

     Scouting the place that evening, we saw there was a Tourist Center separate from the Hearst Castle, two different, distinct places, the Castle old, the Tourist Center new.  The Tourist Center is a short mile east off California Hwy 1, but it’s another winding three-mile road to the Hearst Castle, atop the highest cliff between Big Sur and Santa Barbara.  The Castle sits on a vast estate with a view of the ocean in the distance.  In fact, the gargantuan Castle looks almost tiny from the Tourist Center.  They even have telescopes for those who don’t want to lay out $10 to take a tour bus ride up the mountain and view the estate, “La Cuesta Encantada” (The Enchanted Hill), up close.   

     Even at 5 p.m., there was plenty going on at the Tourist Center, lots of tourists coming and going, stories and pictures on the walls, and plaques under glass, all about William Randolph Hearst and the Castle, with descriptions about things that had happened there, including to some family members.  But notably, nothing about Patty Hearst.  Best of all, if we were going to do some guerilla theatre, there was a huge garden, immediately out the large window looking towards the Castle, providing both a potential stage and a captive audience. 

     “A garden as redolent as the Gardens of Versailles,” Sally said that night, as we reviewed our options sitting around the campfire brainstorming a possible skit.  “Don’t trample the flowers.”  As we developed the skit, including that garden, with its rows and rows of neatly-pruned bushes and walking paths, there was some anxious tummy-tightening for those of us having a hard time imagining ourselves traipsing through the garden going ahead with the outlandish idea we were developing.

     Just before the Tourist Center closed for the day, Patty and Rocky had paid the $10 for the official tour, and now at our campfire, gave us a report:

“You have to see it for yourself to get the whole picture,” Patty started, “but I’m not sure it’s worth the ten bucks.  Lots of wood carved chairs, lamps with patterned lamp shades, gloomy rooms really – 115 in fact!  Got kind of boring, but I kept thinking about the Orson Welles movie, Citizen Kane, that dark portrayal of Hearst the publisher – and kept on thinking about his granddaughter Patty, the SLA member, and a plot came to me.”

     “The view out the windows was exquisite,” Rocky joined in, “but paying money for views of mother-nature?  I hate these touristy things.  Now the wine cellar, that was almost worth paying ten bucks to see – hundreds and hundreds of the best wines from all over the world – what a waste really.”

Patty continued with the plot:

“When we got to Hearst’s study, called ‘The Gothic Room’,” “Patty continued, “I started thinking Agatha Christie and all of us sitting around the big table trying to figure out who was the murderer, which closet Patty Hearst might be hiding in . . .”

     “But that’s when I told Patty there was no way we could pull it off,” Rocky interrupted.  “Too many guards.  If we were to try anything at the Castle, it could easily become a real shoot-out. 

Patty finishes:

“So that’s why we’re recommending the Tourist Center for our guerilla theater.  And here’s what’s going to make it work!  The amazing thing you’re not going to believe, Rocky left the tour and made friends with the tour bus driver, telling him we were part of a movie company.  If he’s willing to play-along he can have a bit part, get paid, but the thing is – Rocky tells him, it has to be spontaneous – nobody can know you’re hired.  We’ll keep it safe, and we pay our extras well.”

Chapter 13

The Beginnings of a Movie?

     Traveling down the Pacific Coast Highway, the next scheduled visit actually on the list was Santa Cruz to visit Debbie, somebody Max said knew we were coming.  With Max back on the bus, Patty was excited to catch Max up with her new movie idea “The Rumpkins –  A 2022 Merry Pranksters Story.”  Sally asked what other movies she’d been part of.

     “The Public Domain!” Huck interjected, “I even had a leading role!”

     “He didn’t have a single line,” Patty said, describing her 2015 movie about the I-35 bridge collapse, “but yes, Huck played the truck driver role I had in mind exquisitely.  I had him backed up on the bridge waiting patiently for the traffic to get moving when he notices the lady in the convertible in front of him seems to be having an argument on her cell phone with her husband, or boyfriend.  Then in a fit of exasperation she flings her cell phone out the car and the camera, in slow motion, catches the downward flight of the phone into the Mississippi River, two hundred feet below.  Huck honks his horn and gives her the thumbs-up sign, perfectly capturing the look of someone who knew exactly what the lady driver in front of him was doing – and congratulating her on the decision to toss the phone, as well as the guy. 

      “After he beeps, the lady, who just tossed the phone, glances into her rear-view mirror, sees Huck in his cab, his smile and the thumbs-up sign, and then Whoosh! Huck’s truck drops out of sight in her rear-view mirror and plunges into the river, leaving the lady in front of him as the last car that made it past where the bridge collapsed.  You were just great Huck, better than a thousand words.  But the movie went on another two hours about that lady, and you never appeared again.”  

     Rocky interrupted, “So who’s this Debbie character we’re off to visit?” 

     “Turn your camera on,” Max said.  “This is a good story.  On one of my earlier trips visiting Peace Corps friends around the country, traveling with a buddy named Bob, we get to Tucson and knock on the door of my old Peace Corps friend – an old girlfriend really, but she tells me, more or less, ‘Nice to see you Max, but I’ve moved on.’  That night Bob and I slept in the car . . . it was a station wagon with a mattress in back . . . at the University of Arizona football stadium parking lot. The next morning, on the way out-of-town, we pass this old 1950s style motel with an outdoor swimming pool and there’s maybe a dozen bathing beauties poolside … so we slow down, take a second look, and decide maybe we should stay one more night in Tucson.”

     “Oh Boy!  I can’t wait to meet Debbie!”  Huck exclaimed, interrupting.

    “OK, keep listening, Max said.  “After checking in and donning bathing suits, we go poolside and almost immediately are offered kahlua and coffee by this mighty fine-looking group of bikini-clad females.  Wow!  How lucky can two single guys get!  Turns out the Tucson Open, a pro golf tournament, was in town and these were the caddies’ girlfriends who had little interest in watching their boyfriend hold some golfer’s putter.  But they were not available that night. 

      “At any rate, reading the local paper, I spied a lecture at the University as something we might do instead.  Get there, and it’s packed. I perch myself on a ledge and in walks this tallish, nice-looking co-ed, looking for a seat, so I offer my perch. At the intermission I introduce her to Bob. Before the night is over, she says, ‘My name’s Debbie. Call me if you stick around.’

      “So of course we stuck around and get invited to Debbie’s place for dinner the following night.  It turns out Bob’s the lucky one who gets to spend the night, and I’m back at the football stadium parking lot – which wasn’t so bad because you could get into the locker rooms for a shower . . . It was the old stadium and not locked up . . . After a couple nights of this, Bob says to me, ‘You know, I think you and Debbie were made for each other, both tall, both Jewish, both good at wisecracks. Come on over tonight, and you stay, not me.’

“Later, I learned more about all this cupid-playing. It was Debbie’s idea, not Bob’s that I spend the night with her. Debbie tells me, ‘You know, I just had to try this fling with guys to see if I really preferred being a lesbian.’  Okay, it was a set up . . . but we’ve stayed friends, good friends, and I’ve gotten to know her entire family.  Debbie’s now living with her mother in Santa Cruz.  They’re excited to meet all of you.”

     “Well, yeah, fun story, Max,” Patty says, “but we’re not doing re-enactments.”  Which led Patty to secretly ask Rocky’s help in dreaming up some fishing escapade for Sally to star in.

     Arriving in Santa Cruz, Debbie had her own place not far from her mother’s.  Between the two of them they had room for us all.  It was amazing how much Debbie and her mom, Leba, loved Max – which easily attached to the rest of us.  They wanted to hear all our stories.  They took us to the wharf for dinner.   They wanted Max to tell the entire story about him and Debbie.  They encouraged us to rabble-rouse the entire state of California.

     They also provided some really good political types to look up if we ended up in Arizona doing the Rumpkins organizing.  Max, in his story, had forgotten to mention that Debbie’s dad, who died young, had been Speaker of the Arizona House of Representatives and best friends with the Udalls, one of whom was still around. 

     The second day in Santa Cruz, Max and Sally hired a boat to go deep-sea fishing.  Rocky decided to go too.  Patty went along to do some filming – us not knowing she had a plot with Rocky to make it movie-worthy.  They came back with either a tall fishing tale, according to Sally, or almost the biggest catch ever, according to Rocky, but no fish.  “It’s all on film,” Patty says.

The film’s rolling:

 .  . . the Monterey Bay waters a brilliant blue, the Pier and its distinctive roller coaster disappearing in the distance, when Rocky starts telling Sally the shallow waters near the pier are famous for these large dolphin-sized fish that glisten yellow, green and blue, called Mahi Mahi.  “Let’s go back by the pier.  Land one of those, and you’ll make the paper,” Rocky tells her. 

A little later we all gasp as Sally tries to pull up this huge dolphin-sized fish exclaiming it’s a Mahi Mahi!  [while Rocky explains to us viewers that unbeknownst to Sally he had swum under the boat and attached a large sequined shimmering mannequin to her line].  In the movie she keeps tugging and tugging, and Max says “Here’s a net.  I’ll hold the line; you jump in and help get it up with the net.”

     “Unfortunately,” Patty interjects, “Sally didn’t take the bait, didn’t jump-in, didn’t get her blouse all clinging wet, and so the film is going to the cutting room floor.”

Instead, we watch Sally saying:

“No!  You jump in – that sucker is big enough to eat me.”  A little later the film shows the fish getting away (Rocky having untethered it), and Max saying to Sally, “And you said you knew how to fish!”

      Back at Debbie’s watching all this, Sally defends herself.  “I knew it wasn’t a Mahi Mahi.  Mahi Mahi don’t come this far north.  I was just playing along with your silly gag movie idea.”  Yeah, right, we all thought.      

     After 48 hours in Santa Cruz, we motored on towards San Luis Obispo – not knowing that our blog was about to become a sensation and that Patty would have a movie that included our role in a terroristic plot to blow up the Los Angeles Dodger’s baseball stadium.