Christmas Jerk I managed to avoid being homeless on Christmas Eve 1979, but just barely. Unemployed since that summer, I found a cheap flophouse on 12th and Island where 70 bucks a month got me a room so small that I had to open the door to get out of bed. It was my first holiday in San Diego, 3000 miles from my New England hometown. Illustration by Jay Allen Sanford Christmas Eve, I got it in my head that I wanted to sneak into a theater to see Steve Martin’s new movie, The Jerk, which was playing within bicycling range at the Campus Drive-In near SDSU.