Friday. To sleep reasonably early to awaken at a quarter to six, getting up on another cold morning to set out to breakfast under a clear sky and watering eyes. Had the oatmeal, toast, fruit cup and coffee for breakfast (we were two pounds over our target this morning) and took the time to dawdle over the papers.

I passed by a homeless man whom I've given money and talked with in the past on several occasions, he too looked bleary eyed standing by one of the store fronts, and we had a brief conversation about the cold, the usual shrugged shoulders and brief comments between men, but it made clearer to me some of the reality faced by homeless people, men and women, most older than the man I was talking with when your only source is to read about it in the papers or perhaps drive past a homeless man or woman now and again on the street.

A picture of the pandorea buds and the six cent rise in the price of regular gas for no reason whatsoever other than history and habit, the usual sidewalk and flower snapshots, that same (I believe) small man sleeping under the 580 overpass and a knocked over trash container spilling its contents out on the sidewalk. At least the sun was shining, albeit still cold.

Nothing on the schedule today. No sign of a repair person so far to look at the leaky pipes over my bathtub. I'd taken a bath yesterday when I'd grown tired of waiting to hear what was planned (and my scalp started itching). Still some water drops coming down whenever they shower on the floor above and I'm ready to see it fixed.

Evening. Watched Sgt. Pepper's Musical Revolution on PBS at eight. The album was released in June 1967, the month and year I entered the army. Bad timing, as I wasn't able to listen to all that much music in the army, although I made up for it by bringing home an elaborate stereo system I'd bought in Japan, components of which still sit in the living room. Would have used some of that money to buy cameras, if I had it to do over, but otherwise no real regrets.

Brought back old memories watching it this evening, of course, the salad days when we set out after school, after two years in the army, to participate with our peers in San Francisco in the late sixties and early seventies, times I suspect no matter where any of us eventually ended up, still remain in our memories, both happy and sad.