It warned against me taking a trip on Sept. 1, 1956.

We were leaving for Vegas in less than an hour with my Dad at the wheel.

Among other things, we were pushed the last 25 miles into Vegas by an 18-wheeler back when truck drivers were still Knights of the Road.

We had no headlights because the generator crapped out.

I was also accidentally left behind twice.

The first time they left me at our house in Pacoima.

They went two miles down the road before my brother noticed I wasn’t sitting beside him in the back seat.

The second time was on the return trip.

“Are you trying to tell me something?” I asked my parents.

“Beliefs are never true. Do they work for you sometimes? Absolutely!”

I explained how karma worked, and how the curse would come full-circle, targeting him as well.

He paused and thought about it, then said, “It’s worth it. What book do I buy?”

While those pink dolphins were pulling me into Portland, I remembered Adano saying, “The only difference between an in-Saint person and an insane one is that the in-Saint person can drive his car.”

So I hung in there for 75 miles of freeway driving.

I once was so tired driving straight through from Dallas to Washington state that pink dolphins pulled my vehicle into Portland.

And imaginary buildings and bridges were popping up all over the place.

I kept saying to myself, “Don’t take your eyes off the red taillights. They’re real, so don’t drive through them.”

I finally pulled over at a road stop on the other side of the Columbia River, and immediately passed out in the driver’s seat.

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I was driving Tom Lumpkin’s truck to pick Tom and Vicki up at Sea-Tac in Seattle, racing their flight from Dallas to there.

I beat them there by putting the pedal to the metal.

Then Tom and Vicki dropped me off at Robert and Sheri’s house in Bellingham while they drove the truck to Canada.

Then I dropped Tom and Vicki off at the airport again, loaded up all my worldly possessions from a storage unit in Portland, and drove back to Arlingtom, Texas.

I took it slower on the way back, even stopping to tour Barringer Crater in Arizona. (I was given a V.I.P. extended tour because I was mistaken for a financial donor.)

Then I helped Tom and Vicki move to Tahlequah, Oklahoma, before returning to Greg Whiteley’s Aquarian Lifestyle Research in Austin.