[New Haven] Picked up my Mac from Technical Services; they’d run it for a few hours without crashing, so they just packed it back up again. On the way back I bought a surge suppressor at the Coop. Hope that takes care of the problem.

Wrote my two-page Psych paper. Now there’s just one lone Music exam between me and the rest of my life. I practiced by trying to transcribe the beginning of Raiders. It’s hard, even with Music Shop to test my work out on.

Dad called. Billboard’s top-ranked program for this week is, indeed, Karateka. That’s Step Two in my convincing myself of this. Step Three will be when I see it for myself.

I’m done.

I’m done with Yale.

The music exam was pretty tough — I blew the dictations — but, hey, I did my best. I might get a B in the course. After the exam I spoke to Dwight and Tom, in a whisper because a lot of people were still writing. They wanted to know what I’d be doing next year.

“Write computer games,” I whispered.

I bought Billboard. Karateka is indeed number one. Me and Madonna. Yow.

Dinner with Bill Holt at Whistler’s. He brought me up to date on what everybody at Broderbund is doing. He also asked me about my summer plans. I said I was thinking about doing another game. He said Gary would love to have me back.

So, I figure I’ll fly up there around the middle of July, stay with somebody for a while, see if I can get a new project lined up. I’ll call Gary on Monday and tell him.

Note: call — not write. Gary — not Ed. Writing to Ed hasn’t worked for me too well in the past. He’s a Busy Man. I have a feeling they don’t use letters much out there, anyway.

Bill suggested I ask Gary, not Ed, to pick up the tab. “If your dad ever disowns you,” Bill said, “I think Gary would adopt you.”

I’m psyched to Return to Marin.

Lunch with Jeff Kleeman. Afterwards, he came over and I recorded the score to Vertigo for him. I’ll look him up in L.A. this summer. Also, jogging this morning, I ran into Mike Saltzman and Eve Maremont.

Stopping by the post office after jogging, I found the letter from Ed I’ve been waiting for for nearly two months. I was amazed at how happy it made me. It didn’t say much — basically, just “sure, come on out” — but it lifted a weight off my chest, one I hadn’t even realized I was carrying. I am going out there in July. And I’m seriously looking forward to it.

The issue of who pays hasn’t yet been addressed, but I think they’ll probably agree to pay for my ticket. If not (don’t tell them this), I’ll go anyway.

Dad had a useful insight on my upcoming negotiations with Broderbund. My position should be: I don’t need an advance, or a salary, or a guarantee that they’ll publish the program when it’s finished. I’ll take all the risk. I just want the highest royalty rate I can get. And the pressure to negotiate the contract should come from them, not from me.

Breakfast at Naples with Dwight Andrews. We talked about computer music.

A pleasant surprise: Got my first royalty check for Karateka, for $2117. 2000 units sold in April. The advance is now paid off.

The Baccalaureate address was pretty good. Giamatti always brings a lump to my throat when he does his routine about a liberal arts education and learning for learning’s sake.

My strongest impression of these final two days is standing around in cap and gown with Ben, Tom, Ben Voyles, Larry, Ward, and that gang, cracking jokes, lining up two by two, breaking ranks, re-forming, whistling “Pomp and Circumstance,” waiting for the procession to get moving, while sweating in the hot sun and trying to keep that damn cap on.

The Class Day exercises boasted a very funny routine by a pair of senior stand-up comics, and a good speech by Paul Tsongas. The thrust of it was that one should maintain perspective as one strives to Get Ahead in life; material gains are empty; nobody wishes on their deathbed that they had spent more time on their business.

Two things he said really got to me. One was (roughly): “Value the people who are close to you, because in the end, they’re the only ones who will really care about you.” The other: “Some of you will lead long lives. Some will die young. Some will find happiness in love and family. Some won’t. Some will find solace in drugs and alcohol. That’s just statistics.” It made me realize that I just take it for granted that I’ll live forever and be wildly successful in everything. But so does everybody else, and we can’t all be right.

Friday must have been ninety degrees, but like a fool I wore a jacket and tie under the heavy black gown. Boy, was I sweating. The procession to Old Campus was a very big deal; we took a rather circuitous route through the New Haven Green, where we stopped and waited in a long line while the band and the President’s party paraded by. We doffed our caps to Giamatti as he passed. Ward, Larry, and Dominic whistled Elgar and Sousa marches to keep from getting bored. Larry had fun with the parasol he’d brought along.

“Don’t you feel like you’re in a zoo?” Ben asked. We were surrounded by crowds of tourists in brightly colored clothes, smiling and pointing at us and snapping pictures.

“‘Please do not feed or annoy the graduates,’” I said. “‘When provoked, graduates may become snide and sarcastic.’”

Our parents snapped picture after picture as we passed. We smiled and basked and kept moving. It all seemed unreal. Filled with an ocean of chairs, packed with people, approached by an unusual route through gates that had always been locked, the Old Campus felt like no place I’d ever been.

Once we got in our seats, we were graduated almost before we knew it. A hymn, a prayer, and then, suddenly, one-thousand-some-odd “IN NUMBER,” we were graduated “as designated by the Dean.” And it was over.

Then we sat there in the heat for another two hours while the President graduated all the grad students and awarded all the honorary degrees. I got sunburnt more than I had at Holiday Hill.

The Calhoun ceremony afterwards, when they gave us our diplomas, was really the most important part. We got called by name, our degree, major, and any honors were announced, and we went up to take our diplomas and shake the hands of the Dean, the Master, and Davie Napier while the rest of the senior class applauded. It took a long time, and for the parents it must have been boring as hell, but it was great to see the whole class one person at a time. David Spadafora and Ramsay MacMullen made speeches, not of the previous day’s caliber, but good enough. And we all threw our caps in the air and cheered.

[New York] I turned 21 today.

Irv Bauer dropped by. We chatted for a couple of minutes. He congratulated me on being a boy wonder and asked me what I had in the works. I told him I was writing a screenplay.

“It’s a hard business,” he said. Then he said: “I’m going to give you a gift.” He thereupon recommended James Agee’s two books On Film. I thanked him profusely. I guess I’m supposed to buy the books myself.

I saw Aviva off (to Australia via LaGuardia) and went to see Jules and Jim.

A cold, drizzling day. I was a little grouchy, I guess because I’m feeling confused and indecisive about my future. Kay from Broderbund called and told me it’ll be OK for me to stay at Dane’s place. I booked a flight to L.A. and S.F. on July 5th. So everything’s set. Except –

Do I really want to write another game? Can I do that and write screenplays at the same time? Can I write screenplays at all?

I played the Gremlins soundtrack to evoke last summer and get me psyched about movies. It worked. Tomorrow I’ll write something.

Saw Brewster’s Millions.

The Commodore version of Karateka must be out, because I got a copy in the mail. Shrink-packed and everything.

Chris Columbus must be a happy guy. Steven Spielberg latched onto him and now Chris is cranking out fun movies one after another. I loved Gremlins. I liked Goonies. A lot.

I’m glad I’m going to San Rafael in two weeks. I think I’m going stir crazy. My social life here is zilch. I never do anything. I’m turning into a lump.

I’m not crazy about the prospect of sitting down to write another video game and getting up a year later. But it would be good for me to live in Marin and work at Broderbund. Meet new people. My own place, my own car. Get around. Yup — I’m set on that.