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My monk friend in Arizona told me to go see this young Lama in Pasadena, if things didn't work out with his teacher in San Francisco. I drove over and liked the young guy almost immediately. I mean he was the nephew of a very big Tibetan heavy. I could really appreciate this. We talked for eight hours and I thought this young Lama was pretty hip. I mean he felt like my brother. The link was good. The Lama spoke good English, almost with a tone of affectionate disdain for America and its temper tantrums. I mean you could talk to this guy and just enjoy it. The young Lama was interested in quantum mechanics and the cybermania plaguing the land. He even knew Jim. " Oh, he's just mixing shit up and confusing himself, " Lama giggled. " Why don't you come to India? " Lama invited. " We can do ngondro there. You know all those prostrations. " I was tempted. Now my trip had more scope. I could visit the little fluffy red-head in Europe, see dad's grave in Israel, and do some ngondro in India. I even figured I could write a screenplay in Nepal, maybe.
It was a good way to get a handle on all the sweetly wailing demons inside of me. The young Lama said the multi-media thing was OK. I said goodbye and just floated through the theatres and restaurants of Orange county. I floated through its unknown malls and towns, scribbling down notes for my TV show. My new pilot was improving considerably with age. I was engaging my characters now on multiple levels. I even thought of a cool device to expose past karma. My divine couple would find clues to their past lives in a hidden photo album during crucial moments of anticipated revelation. This stuff kept me pretty busy.
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