Ed Bernstein called his last P.D. meeting this afternoon. He’s leaving to head up Broderbund’s fledgling board games division. DOUG HIMSELF will be taking over as acting head of P.D. He’ll be taking my desk, the better to stay in touch with the people. So I’ll be moving into Ed’s office. Life is strange.

P.D. is throwing Ed a goodbye party. “Better the devil we know than the deep blue sea,” Steve said.

At lunch, Doug said: “You seem to have a very strong entrepreneurial bent.” I was surprised, and said something about how I’d probably inherited it from my father.

Coming out here was definitely the right thing to do. In Chappaqua, I was in a rut. Now, I’m in the thick of it. It’s great.

I have a car.

I have an apartment.

Today I moved into Ed’s office. Obviously, this is a temporary arrangement; eventually some new guy will be hired to run P.D. and I’ll get booted to some other part of the building. But while it lasts, it’s great.

Besides vast amounts of space, a couple of armchairs for visitors, my own phone, and a door that I can close, the office has the most important thing of all – equipment. A printer. An amber screen. An Apple IIc.  It didn’t occur to me until I was actually confronted with two Apple II’s on my desk and I had to figure out what to do with the extra one – but it’s perfect. Now I can run programs without destroying the source code in memory. It’s…(gulp)… a development system.

David Stenn read my screenplay. He said it has promise but would need at least one more rewrite to be saleable. Perhaps sensing my disappointment, he said: “Look, it’s great for a first script – it really is. I wouldn’t show you my first screenplay. You obviously have talent, you should stick with it.”

He was more impressed with the reviews of Karateka I’d sent him. “You’re in the right business,” he said. “What do you want to get into this one for?”