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1976 1 of 8


DIARY 10478

THURSDAY, JANUARY 1. Up "early" to find Don soundly sleeping, then up at 12:05 PM and find that Stephen's left. I shower, phone Stephen to come over for brunch, which he does about 1:30. I help Eileen and Don clean up the place, which is quite easy, and then look through some "After Dark" magazines, and then we're into the dining room with the white-orchid centerpiece, having lit the candles, and there's cold cuts and bread and cheeses and great cranberry sauce and heavy fruitcake and cole slaw that I don't touch and white wine and orange juice and coffee, and we sit and chat until about 3:30, when Stephen says he has to go off to some dinner engagement, and then Eileen and Don and I look through some of his picture books until about 5, when I'm muzzy from the wine still, and from the hangover from last night, and he wants me to stay around, so we drive her back to Englewood about 5:30, getting his Pontiac Grand Prix from the garage across the street, and the clarity of the air makes me comment that it's "one day in a thousand" in beauty, and we drive her home and then drive back with his hand on my knee, looking at the lighting displays that have grown scarce in New Jersey, at the huge old pile of a house that Don's father was about to buy before he died when Don was 12, and then back to the city to let Gaston pee at the corner hydrant, and then up about 6:30 to turn on the end of "Star Trek" and look at the funny infestations that are killed by light, and Spock's blinded, but only temporarily. Phone Arnie to find Michael's phone number and the TV schedule, Don talks to friends and will have dinner with Alicia tomorrow, and I watch the end of "Big Blue Marble" until 8, when Mahler's Second is on again, and we smoke to little effect, watch that until 9:30, see pieces of "Goldwyn Follies" with the ballet of Zorina and Balanchine looking VERY dated, he makes a great omelet for our dinner, then watch "Monty Python" at 10 and the Skating Spectacular from 10:30 to 11:30, and he's fallen asleep, and some of the "old smoothie" music they use to introduce the Rochester Skating Club members almost puts ME to sleep, too (and Don hadn't slept for PREVIOUS evenings because he was concerned about the party), and lights go out at 11:30, and we're to sleep without ANY sex, save when he started raking me across the groin with his fingernails, causing SENSATIONS that just weren't SEXUAL in nature.

DIARY 10479

FRIDAY, JANUARY 2. Wake at 3 to take a drink and piss, again at 7, and then finally at 8:45, when I went into the bathroom to take another shower, feeling GREAT that he'd sleep long enough to let me get out of bed without having sex with him. Had cleared with him before that he had to write me a $45 check or else I couldn't stay over, and when he wrote the check he wryly commented that "And I slept through the WHOLE THING," and I had to laugh with him. Drink the last of the orange juice and just don't have time for anything else, leaving at 9:50 and getting to Michael's at 10:03. If I'd been "debating" after the first Rolfing, the second Rolfing determined me for good (see DIARY 10480) with its excellence and the effectiveness of the deeply felt cry that I had afterwards. Leave his place at 11:45 and realize that I'm supposed to meet BOB at 12:30 at my place, so I subway home, getting in JUST at 12:28, and have time to go to the john (having shaved and brushed my teeth for Michael at Don's) and the buzzer buzzes, so I don't even listen to the phone messages. At last, finally, the session with Bob gives him the "cheese" (and the cream) that he wants (see DIARY 10483). He leaves about 5, and I'm feeling VERY strange because I made myself some quick scrambled eggs while he looked through my movie and play and ballet lists (and remarked that my people lists must be elsewhere), and had some wine with THAT, and then the grass with Bob, and I was BACK into my muzzy state that I'd been in since the 31st---last year! Type five pages somehow, but not very successfully, being quite strung-out, and watch a "Star Trek" that puts Robert Block as the author at the START of the segment, leaving the LESSER authors for the END of the segment, and it's about two squalling illusionists, the female of which changes into a huge black cat, and the Kirk breaks the illusion and they're tiny blue marionettes that cackle at each other until they die, sending up wisps of smoke. Called Arnie and found that the party started between 8:30 and 9, I have the first of two VERY smelly steaks quick-fried, and then shave again and get out about 9:30, having called Paul, who left word yesterday, and Rolf, who'd heard about the party yesterday when he went over to talk to Arnie about small businesses, since Rolf's resolved to attain gainful employment this year. Party is rather a dud (see DIARY 10484) and I leave about 1:30 and fall RIGHT to sleep.

DIARY 10485

SATURDAY, JANUARY 3. I get up about 10:30, exasperated that the woman UPSTAIRS seems to get up at the SAME minute, surprised that I seem to need so much sleep, and meditate for the first time in AGES, coming up with an idea about selectivity in speaking (see DIARY 10486) with different people in degrees of openness. Then turn on TV because I don't feel like doing anything else, and watch "King Kong Versus Godzilla" which isn't in my movie list, but I must have seen it during 1975, because it's fresh in my mind. Flick back and forth to "Gamera versus Monster X," which shoots him with a needle and impregnates him, so the kids go INSIDE and kill the monster, which then kills the parent by breaking its sting and bouncing on it, with a background of exploding buildings, Expo 70, crumbling castles, and shiny wires getting tangled around their legs. Then start watching an unnamed movie on Channel 7, finding from Arnold that it's "Unknown Wilderness," good scenery in the backwoods around Yellowstone with petrified forests, mud pools, bears, mountain lions, and other film clips about everything. That goes until 3:30, and I'd had cereal about noon, getting hungry. Call Arnie and plan to meet at 7:20 for the play tonight, Art calls and says that the trip was good AND he's going off again on MONDAY to Europe, Madeira, and Nassau for two weeks, and then I shower but don't wash my hair (to get the Baby Magic off in case Art and I have sex later), fry up the second of the smelly steaks after washing off the crud on the outside, and still have done no typing to catch UP! Watch a sexy Glenn Corbett as someone justifiably loved by a "Companion," then PISSED when he's realized he's USED, then STAYING as she BECOMES a woman on "Star Trek." Oh, and I woke with a hard-on and jerked off this morning, too! Out at 7:20 and meet Arnie and chat with Stephen before going in to see "Pacific Overtures," rather mediocre (see DIARY 10487), and out at 10:35 to go over to Joe Farinas's to see his new apartment he's been working on since he moved in in March, and to eat the good pea soup that his friend cooked up, washed down with eggnog, and I call Art after, as instructed, and he invites Arnie down, and we leave about 12:15, Joe staying in to iron shirts, getting there about 12:45, Arnie and Art chatting for about an hour, then Arnie leaves for the bars, I continue talking, get stamps from Nassau from Art for Christmas, and then he says Joyce is calling early, leaving me OUT of staying, so I leave about 2:45, meeting ARNIE saying the bars were not so good and surprised to see me, and I eat some cookies and get to bed about 3:30, EXHAUSTED!

DIARY 10488

SUNDAY, JANUARY 4. Wake at 11, feeling tired even after 7½ hours sleep, happy that the cold sore under my nose is going away even though the eyes feel goopier than ever, and it's so cold in the apartment that I put on the radiator in the study again, and even the next day it doesn't feel over-hot. Watch Max Ophuls interview Costa-Garvas and get more insights on selectivity (see DIARY 10486), then meditate nicely and out for the Times at 12. Have breakfast and am brushing my teeth when Paul Knowles calls and talks about my rebirthing, Rolfing, and New Year's Eve, then got into the puzzles and messed up the start of the double crostic so thoroughly that I was still working on it at 4:45 when I decided I HAD to have something to eat before watching television at 5, so I scrambled the last two eggs and had toast and then watched "Carola" by Jean Renoir, and it was one of the SILLIEST thing I'd seen to date, with Mel Ferrer as a German general going off to his death because Leslie Caron, as Carola the actress, wouldn't come with him to Spain, preferring to stay in the theater and get killed by the Gestapo for sheltering Henri Someone, played by Michael Sacks, the young blond from "Slaughterhouse Five," who was the silliest of all, performing a dangerous spy mission and then coming to get her autograph, I think being killed, and everyone else acted stupidly in such a way that they couldn't have been such generals and actors if they WERE so stupid. Rolf called and came over for the last ten minutes of that, after Joan called and talked for about 20 minutes during the play, and Rolf and I watched the end of "Space 1999," ANOTHER cosmic fuck of the moon by a planet inhabited by what LOOKS like a very aged Margaret Leighton, who needs their "touch" to go to a higher plane of life. Alan Tate showed a LOVELY hairy chest in some parts, and the character Paul still has a BEAUTIFUL face. Rolf talks about his 6th day of fasting, his wanting to work at something, and his meeting José Coronado at the baths. He leaves about 9, I wash dishes listening to Beethoven's Piano Concerti and then fry bacon for dinner, reading Sci-Am until 11 and finishing the double crostic finally, then smoke and have a MARVELOUS come with TOTALLY ENGORGED COCK until 11:45, and MANAGE TO REFRAIN FROM EATING, and get to sleep about 12, still feeling the foot-pains from the Rolfing.

DIARY 10495

MONDAY, JANUARY 5. Up at 9, obviously still needing sleep, meditate, have breakfast, water plants, and get down to 11 pages typed for the DIARY and then get at LAST to the datebook from 1975, doing 3 pages of that through June 1, 1975, almost half through. Called Don and left a message, had put the Christmas wreath away last night but they don't seem to be painting the hallways this morning, and I called for the schedule for "Swept Away" and decided to see the 3:50 show. Have lunch about 3, deciding not to wash my hair before going, and take out the Chinese and laundromat laundries, and read a bit from "Beelzebub" before going into the theater. "Swept Away" is one of the best movies I've seen that was released in 1975, and is surely on my "10 best" list for the year (see DIARY 10496). Out at 5:40 and across the street to pick up groceries at the International, thinking they might be cheaper than the Bohack, but almost every price that I remember seems to be HIGHER at the International, and there's more choice at the Bohack, so I don't have to schlep the groceries home from there anymore. It's VERY cold out these days, Pope said it may have been 10° this morning, and I get back in time to tune in on the middle of a "Star Trek" that had Julie Newmar as a warlord princess and the ever-present Tige Andrews (not really ever-present, he's merely also on Mod Squad) as a Cling-On, the nasty man in the episode that has Dr. McCoy birthing a baby and the men in attractive tights with big furry shoes that, strangely, give a masculine profile to the whole man. Then out at 7:30 to take the subway back to Boro Hall and STILL get to the Commodore WAY early for the lecture, but not only did they switch the tape, the tape doesn't work (see DIARY 10497)! Out disgusted at 9, call Arnie, who'd called about going to the baths, and he really doesn't want to go but says EXACTLY what I said when I called him back at 7:15---"Why NOT?" So I read for a bit in the hotel lobby, then subway down at 10 to find him there already, but we're only in till 12:30, then leave (see DIARY 10498) to find that the fish place is closed, and we get a train back quick, catch an A train back, up to his place for bad Sara Less cheesecake for $2, and he gives me a box of Anise Sprinkles and a kilo of CHOCOLATE sprinkles, YUM. To bed at 1:30.

DIARY 10499

TUESDAY, JANUARY 6. The alarm jolts me out of a dream (see DIARY 10500) at 9, and I'm feeling reasonably awful as I type out the page about it, and after meditation it's so late that I don't even take a bath, relying on last night's showers to have me clean enough for rebirthing today. Shave and have three eggs for breakfast, remembering how hungry I was last time, and get out at 10:20, knowing that it's too late, but the subways come fast and I'm ringing the bell at 10:58. Buzzer sounds but no one's downstairs, so I go up when Diane comes out, and there's Bruce Moody making out with Trish, but no one else is there. The buzzer goes in another few minutes and who comes in but who I THOUGHT was Tony, but who's TOM, the beautiful "other half" of Stephen! Then find that Baruch isn't going to be there, that Bruce has taken his place---and I just NOW remember that it was BRUCE who was making such an ass of himself (as I would have done) at the Personal Immortality Seminar! And Gabrielle had called Robin to say that she wasn't going to be there. So there are just the TWO of us! We share reading the article by Leboyer, and this time I don't choke up on the last page, and then we're downstairs about 11:45. Tom fills up the tub and dons a large brown bathrobe, large calves very pale beneath, and there are fewer towels than before, so I just wrap one around my shoulders and sit to watch Bruce go in. The day starts about 12 and doesn't end until 9:30 (see DIARY 10501), and though I wasn't reborn, my (for me) extraordinary equanimity about the whole affair blows me away. Stephen comes in later to talk about a mailing, and then we all go out to dinner at the Dollar D'Oro on 96th, ending at 11:15, talking until 11:30, and I get busy and "create" that the subway takes me home, and it DOES. Scan the mail until Stephen calls at 12:30 to give me Jonathan Stoller's telephone number for the extra tickets he has for the Werner event for Joan, and then I get to bed about 1 to toss and turn, mind whirling with the events of the day, not able to get to sleep at ALL, even with earplugs, and finally at 1:30 I get up and smoke literally two puffs of grass, which puts me out at last.

DIARY 10511

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 7. Alarm rings at 8, I'm up to meditate sitting by the radiator in the living room, then water plants, debate calling Michael and requesting the weekly session remain at Friday, decide against it, have breakfast, type a diary page for a dream (see DIARY 10512) that I had, and get out at 9 with the whole rest of my money in my wallet for underwear, since the laundry's closed on Wednesday. Stupidly sit on the train at the 79th Street station when I should have gotten off, get off at 86th and then walk DOWN to 79th to find a place that's open, Woolworth's, to buy underwear, and get into the Rolfing session at 10:10. If the first was interesting, the second enlightening, the third was phenomenal (see DIARY 10513), and I cry and cry and cry, having vanished the barrier between me and Michael by saying that I wanted to suck his cock, out of the room at 11:55, stay in Ben's room until 12:30, then meet him on the way out, and get home to try to place a lot of the calls that I got yesterday, and talk to Joan, Rolf, Pope, Bob Rosinek about the Rolfing, and phone Fred, Willis, and Tony about amyl, and leave messages with Guy, Marty, and Don, all of 10 people, which explains why I only type 9 diary pages in all through the whole day, starting with a plethora of images (see DIARY 10517). Arnie calls eventually, and we read Bob G's postcards together, since he got back on Monday, and I watch the Animation Festival to catch by chance a new one from 4 to 4:30, then find that the Star Trek is the one I saw with the humpy actor as Apollo and watch it for a bit while eating my chicken. Talk and type more until 9, when there's a good production of "Barber of Seville" with Luigi Alva in great voice, Teresa Berganza in bluish organza, Hermann Prey as a too-heavy in voice and pot, not legs or face, barber, Enzo Dara and someone else. Marty calls from 9 to 9:30, having dinner with Lazlo Halasz, who founded City Center Opera. Tony Lizel and HUGE roommate come in at 9:30 for 2 amyls, I shut it off in boredom at 10 to smoke and come VERY nicely with stiffest cock and lovely porno, then watch "Mary Hartman" for a kookily funny episode #2, then just sit up watching Burns and Allen as I finish the popcorn I made for the second meal of the day, then more cookies, watch the Tonight show with a sarcastic Fernando Lamas and a cute Joe Namath, then the Tomorrow show with a VERY aggressive and rude and ugly host talking to a mellowed Dick Cavett, but that palls at 1:30 and I fall into bed to sleep instantly.

DIARY 10518

THURSDAY, JANUARY 8. Wake at 8, doze off till 9, then up at 10 and type DIARY 10519 with a dream that I remember, meditate, have breakfast, type a few pages until 12, when I call Bob Grossman and talk to him for about an hour, filling him in on everything, asking him over Saturday afternoon for backgammon, and then back to typing for a bit, trying to get Fred Bassoff on the phone---no, he calls at 11 and comes over about 11:30 for 7 bottles, I owe him $4, and the painters have started on the hallway so it's a mess and he doesn't come in. Mrs. Johnson rang my bell, I think, at 9:30 to take in the picture, but I had the earplugs in and didn't care WHO it was. Had debated going to the Bleecker Street Cinema both yesterday and today, but there were just too many pages to type, so I didn't do it. Talked to Pope twice today, once about arrangements for tonight once about his frustration with Arnie's insisting he was wrong about everything from his resume for an astrologer's job to the year in which he saw "Glass Menagerie" on Broadway. I keep plugging away on typing, water plants, get rid of the dirt from the planter finally, have lunch of tuna, read articles in Sci-Am, and get out at 5:15 to meet Pope at the subway, get to the Statler Hilton early, meet Bob R at 5:45, up to Paddy's Clam House, and their Manhattan clam chowder is NOTHING like Oyster Bar's, and I have their whole flounder, good and bony, and cherry pie, and the place is full of est people, including Trish Watts, and we're over at 6:50 to find the doors opening already, get fairly good seats on the orchestra floor, watch the crowd come in until 8, and I see Myra and Marilyn from my training and some of the people I helped out with, and Bob meets David Barrett whom he met at a cousin's wedding on December 20th, Pope sees friends, and then Werner comes on at 8:03 with a real SEMINAR to 10:25 (see DIARY 10520), and Bob says he's too tired from the evening to come over, Pope's resentful because he's late for a party he said he'd be at at 10, and I subway home to watch another "Mary Hartman" until 11:30, try to call Rolf but get no answer, smoke and come greatly AGAIN until 12:15, and actually get to sleep right afterwards without eating anything. Feels so GOOD to be able to do that.

DIARY 10526

FRIDAY, JANUARY 9. Wake about 8 but don't get up until 9, feeling LAZY, type a lot of pages after meditating, having breakfast, and showering, and then get out at 11, get to Robin's at 11:55, and find that there's no rebirthing being done today (see DIARY 10523). We have lunch in "The Library" and I get home about 2:45. Type the rest of the 10 pages that I type during the day for the DIARY, then finish typing the datebook pages with four of them, so that all I have left to do is bring the movie list up to date and file the pages for the year. Bob R calls, says he MISSES me so much, talks about how he HATED the date last night, says how much he MISSES me, and might see me SUNDAY PM. By then it's time to watch "Star Trek" and it's "The Changeling" about a space probe that goes crazy and eradicates all "parasites," which just happen to be anything imperfect: i.e., anything living, and they finally get it to admit it made a mistake by mistaking Captain Kirk for its creator, and when it was debating the problem they sent it into space and exploded it. Put on hamburger too late to eat it during "Star Trek," so I watch "Descending Doom" which is Chapter Three of "Zorro," which is just ghastly, until 7:30. Guy St. Clair and I had phoned back and forth, and he invited me over at 10 pm, after his choir practice, this evening, so I showered and shaved and got ready and left about 9:20, felt VERY cold along the wind-swept Riverside Drive, and he had his friend Clay with him, so we chatted about est and Rolfing and the Alexander Method and acid trips, and then Clay was tired so he left about 11:50, having had omelets that Guy made while I drank vodka and V-8 juice and ate smoked almonds. Then we got down to smoking and sex, essentially jerking ourselves off, and chatted a bit before falling asleep at 2:15 am (see DIARY 10527). We mixed the grass, but his was probably better than mine, and he seemed to like the liquid stuff that remained strongly in my popper, though when we went to sleep he left it out, so it was gone in the morning. His murphy bed wasn't the biggest, but I was so tired after whacking away at my cock so much that I had no trouble falling asleep, and didn't wake up at all during the night. The smallness of the apartment was more like a hotel room than an apartment, but his porno storage drawer was full enough.

DIARY 10528

SATURDAY, JANUARY 10. Wake at 8 and we have sex again, then sort of laze and talk, and I say I have a lot of work to do, so I leave at 10 to get home at 10:30 and read the mail, have breakfast, water the plants, and clean out the humidifier. Bob calls and says he'll be over between 2 and 3, and I get involved in talking to people, trimming the brown off the plants, washing dishes so that they'll dry, and dusting and vacuuming. He buzzes at 2:20, and I'm unconsciously affected SO much by how he looks that I freak out for the rest of the day (see DIARY 10529): shaved mustache, tanned, even thinner looking, larger eyes and sexier than ever. Give him porno to look at while I finish scrubbing the kitchen floor, then get him to agree that I can mix up the cake, which I do, and all the while the Beegees are playing and he's moving around the apartment looking at my porno, and I finish with the cake at 3:05. We start playing, I take the cake out to cool at 3:50, we continue playing until 5:40, when I make the icing and put it on the cake, then turn on Star Trek to watch "The Spirit of Jack the Ripper" kill a couple of women while he inhabits Scotty's body, and is then found out by a woman mentalist in a story written by Robert Bloch, that Arnie verifies is the fellow who wrote "Psycho." Bob wins the tournament 12-7, which delights him, and then I start working on editing and typing Arnie's resume, getting finished at 8:30, just before Don comes in at 8:40, having talked himself out of a ticket, looking just like a woman, as Arnie says, with his bizarre wig, enormous fur coat, granny glasses and shopping bag. He gives me a bottle of Blanc de Blanc ($1.79 if bought in a case) which I serve to everyone, and when I choose between something to look at or something to eat, I choose the apricot brandy. Bob insists on watching Mary Tyler Moore with Betty Ford in a "cameo" appearance that's the height of stupidity, then we're out to eat at China Chili, poor Wor Bou platter with assorted meats, great orange chicken, fabulous beef in black bean sauce (Mon-Tsu, I think, one of the specials #7?), and noodles in black bean sauce Szechwan style, ALL for $19.20 including tip. Out at 11:10 as they're closing, back to have cake, watch "Weekend" until 1, Don drives Arnie to the Anvil and Bob to Harry's Back East, and I'm watching "Of Human Bondage" until 3, bed chilly and exhausted, but GLAD Don's not here.

DIARY 10530

SUNDAY, JANUARY 11. Up just before 11 to watch a program on Gottschalk on Camera Three and stay tuned for Gov. George Wallace on Face the Nation, and then out at 12 to buy the Times, starting on the puzzle and the paper. Arnie comes over about 2 to pick up the resume he left here last night, chatting about the evening and leaving me a New Yorker with an article about Michael Murphy of Esalen, and leaving at 2:30, reminding me about the Leonard Bernstein program on Phonology (see DIARY 10531), and Don calls and I say I'll call back, brush off POPE when he calls, and watch until 4, talking to Pope about my insight with BobG last night, then call Don and talk about how much he liked the party and wants to see me, but I'm tied up in the self-improvement business. Continue with the puzzle, finishing it and helping POPE to finish it, but don't have time to finish the paper before watching "Space 1999" on a rather silly program of a "star" stopping and getting energy through a man who freezes everyone to death and sucks the power out of the nuclear reactor, with an arresting picture of him getting BLASTED and CHARRED with a weapon and surviving until the final explosion which launches the star into the heavens. Then Stephen calls at 7:30, I say that BobR HASN'T called, he says he'll be over in an hour, so I have to shave and shower and fix up the apartment for HIS arrival, getting it finished as he comes in at 8:35, and we sit and chat until 9, I put on the Beegees again, we smoke and use poppers, which he buys one of, me surprised at not having told him before that I SELL it (for $8), and we get started, then into the bedroom, and I'm quite up but HE goes up and down, we're back out at 10 for more grass, then HE comes and I'm quite down, but there's nice affection this time, rubbing and necking and kissing, and then I start talking about some of my trips to Sound Beach and Hemlock Hall and India and experiences with mescaline, which he might like to take, and it gets so cold that I put on the electric blanket, and he dresses and leaves at 11:35. I don't feel like going to bed, so I watch "Detective Story" while eating LOTS of chocolate cake and some cookies and butter and toast, getting to bed at 2:15, feeling chilly and very tired---depressed by the thought that there are about 200 cold viruses that one can get, and I may be GETTING another one!

DIARY 10534

MONDAY, JANUARY 12. Up about 10, water plants, read more of the NY Times, read Arnie's article on Michael Murphy in New Yorker while I'm eating breakfast after exercising, then fix the Wollensack again in preparation for calling BobG, which I do about 1, though the conversation doesn't go anywhere NEAR where I want it to go (see DIARY 10532). Get out about 2:15 to the bank, finishing "Beelzebub, Book Three" on line until 3, then buy some 3¢ stamps for the new 13¢ postage, and find out that airmail is now 31¢. Buy groceries, back to put everything away, and in no time it's 4:30 and I'm watching "Day the Earth Stood Still," and I don't know why it so impressed everybody, because nothing really happens, though the saucer is VERY neatly made, and their cutting ruined the FIRST impression of its opening. However, it DID seem much bigger inside than it did from the mock-up on the ground. Then "Star Trek" is a repeat of something I'd caught at the END before, with the dumb-blond people who ask "What is love, what is children?" and Kirk says "You'll find out," when they start "the touching," after their monster-god is destroyed---with no idea of who or how it may have been STARTED. Then get to typing at 7:00, getting a call from Don and Rolf, making reservations for José Coronado for Thursday, and I'd called Blue Cross in the PM to find they'll send me a bill. Put on lamb chops to broil, finish typing the 8 pages (and I'd worked on the movie list updating while watching the TV programs), and eat dinner while (and I meditated about 7:45 for the second time today) watching "Mary Hartman," and then I STILL don't feel like going to bed, so I let myself begin "Three Secrets," and it's not bad, with a neat twist at the end where the child surviving the plane crash is FOUND to be Ruth Roman's, the woman who killed the father of the child, but SHE lies and says that Patricia Neal, the reporter, couldn't find OUT whose it was, so they both give it to Eleanor Parker, who was now married and really WANTED the boy. As the Times reviewer said, "Very well done." That's over at 1:30 and I set the alarm for 9 and get to sleep quite quickly (washed dishes before 11, too) without smoking or eating anything besides the cake (and licking the tin totally clean) as dessert for a very late dinner, though it WAS two hours before bedtime.

DIARY 10535

TUESDAY, JANUARY 13. Wake at 8, shut off the alarm before it rings, shower and wash my hair after meditating, type a diary page, and then have three eggs at 10 before getting off to the subway MUCH too late at 10:25, but the subways run fast and I'm off at 10:59 and get to Robin Condon's at 11:05, to find him STILL in a poor mood and Diane STILL in bed. Phone men are running all over the place, and at last we're down for my free rebirthing session (see DIARY 10536) at 11:45. Come to lots of realizations; she says I'm well on my way toward a breathing release, but that I shouldn't go right back into the tub. I think she means to wait a few HOURS, and then she asks if I want to go out and have lunch, which is delayed as she and Anita, Chris's (Robin's son) Chinese girlfriend, compare jewelry and clothing in an attempt to trade things. Then we five get out about 3 to "Under the Stairs," where we scandalize two faggots sitting at the next table with our conversation (see DIARY 10540). Out at 4, and Diane says she meant that I should wait a couple of DAYS, and I feel definitely rejected, and walk leisurely down Columbus Avenue, figuring on the order of Stephen Waite, Avi Golub, and Ron Maloof as places to spend the time before her seminar at 8, but then I pass the Museum of Natural History at 4:10, hear that it's open until 4:45, pay a quarter, and go up to look at dinosaurs and gems and geology quickly, getting saturated just as quickly, then down to Stephen's, and he answers from a nap, we talk for a couple of hours about Don and his wig and employment possibilities and Guy St. Clair and museums and adventuresomeness, and then he offers me meatball stew as potluck, which I take, and we eat that and a GOOD salad in front of an uncrackling fire, and I leave, thanking him enormously, at 7:50 for Magus. The seminar of DIANE'S on rebirthing is significantly different from Leonard's (see DIARY 10541), and it's over at 12:02. Out in the rain, which has stopped from the earlier downpour that I walked through between Stephen's and Magus, and get home at 12:50 to blank message and get to bed at 1:20, setting the alarm for 8:20 the next morning, hoping I'm rested enough to enjoy my rolfing.

DIARY 10546

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 14. Wake about 7:40, doze, wake at 8, doze, shut the alarm off before it rings at 8:20 and up to shower, have a breakfast of cereal which I don't know at the TIME, but it's my LAST meal for a LONG time, and get out at what I FEAR is a late 9:15, but the subway is fast, though crowded with the working class, and I get to Michael's at 9:55 for the fourth Rolfing session (see DIARY 10547), which isn't as good as the third, sadly, and I'm rather depressed when I leave: rebirthing didn't work yesterday and this wasn't as great as last time (comparing the golden fuck again, Bob?). Home at 12:30 and am surprised to feel VERY hungry, which disappoints me, since I didn't have breakfast THAT long ago, just 3½ hours ago, and it crosses my mind that I could USE this hunger to get me to start a fast RIGHT NOW. Idea feels VERY good, so I call Pope to tell him about it, but he says he can't do it right now for all sorts of reasons (read, "considerations"), and he doesn't have the Cott book. Try Rolf but he doesn't answer. Type 5 pages, but really don't feel like doing any more, despite the fact that I WANT to type, and settle down to read the final half of "Caliber .50" by Sheckley, definitely lightweight reading, and then start reading "Autobiography of a Yogi," which really gives me pause for thought along the way. Watch a fun "Star Trek" in which everyone grows very old and senile while filling in more of the movie list, saving that JUST for that, so that THAT time can serve double duty, and Rolf calls, has the book, so I take his "Homosexual Matrix" back and borrow the Cott book, and we chat about dieting, and by coincidence he'd dined and drunk MUCH too much last night with his stock-market friends and feels and sounds LOUSY, and I get back at 8 because Paul's coming over around 9, which he does, and we both get into watching O'Neil's "Beyond the Horizon," and there are interesting comments about that (see DIARY 10552), and then he stays to watch "Mary Hartman," thinking it the BEST, and we chat about the awfulness of Buffalo until 12:10, when he leaves, having eaten cookies and drunk wine with NO ill-effect to me, and he takes my quart of milk, 8 oranges, the last of the cold chicken, a tab of mescaline and a bottle of amyl for $13 in all. I get to bed, worried about my sleep during fasting (see DIARY 10553), at 12:30.

DIARY 10556

THURSDAY, JANUARY 15. Wake just after 7, look at the clock, curse myself for GOING by the clock, up again at 8, look at the clock, and get out of bed about 8:30, vowing to put the clock away and go by how I FEEL. Meditate, feed water to the constantly running humidifier, which takes about a gallon a day without leaving the apartment in ANY way over-moist. Talk to Pope, who wants to do SOMETHING extra to diet with me, and then get down to typing with something of a vengeance, going VERY well for 16 pages, even coming up with an idea for a NEW book called "Journal of a Skeptic" that I write a draft of a publisher's letter about (see DIARY 10554), and decide to write a page a day about my experiences with fasting (see DIARY 10553, 10557, etc.). Spend a DEAL of time drinking a gallon of water before 4 pm, when I decide I should stop or I'll be pissing every 50 minutes even at the dance program. Finished with the typing about 3, then write a very short letter to Rita, a card to Bill, and send off three other things that had been hanging around for far too long (Unity Buying Service, address labels for Paul, telephone bill), and Mrs. Johnson comes up to look at pieces of the ceiling that have fallen in the bedroom where the steam pipe appears to have been pulled away from the wall. Also write a check for the rent, when other checks remind me that it's the 15th of the month. Then at 4 decide to sort out stamps for the next few letters to Mike, and start with Spain and go to France, and the whole thing takes two hours, to 6, when I watch a Star Trek with Harry Mudd back with a civilization of androids where the men wear VERY crotchy soft-white leotards, and the head-crotch, er, android, blows a fuse when everyone uses hard illogic on him, and Harry Mudd blows HIS fuse when 500 wife-androids attack him. Called Rolf, who said to meet downstairs at 7, go down, back up, down, up, and he comes at 7:35, having misplaced his car, but I'm there at 7:50, still to closed doors, and José Coronado's company is not as good as it was (see DIARY 10558). Back at 10:45, chat till 11:15, finish "Mary Hartman" and watch "Keys of the Kingdom," rather a bore with Gregory Peck using God's patience and incredible luck to cure the Mandarin's son's infection, save his people from bombing, blow up a gun, and keep his position in his hometown church when Cedric Hardwicke reads HIS journal that becomes the MOVIE. Stamps with it to 2:30 am!

DIARY 10559

FRIDAY, JANUARY 16. Wake about 8:45, after only six and a quarter hours sleep, as I find AFTER I get up and THEN look at the clock, which makes me feel good, and I fertilize the plants for the first time in too long, having forgotten to continue the notation in the datebook, and type three pages in preparation for meditating when Mrs. Johnson rings and the plasterer comes in to do up the bedroom (which is partially undone when the plaster dries and the heat comes on in the pipe for the first time: flakes large and small of dried plaster on my new rug!), so I delay meditating until they leave at 11:30. Hear a tiny burr far away and discover that my phone volume knob had fallen to the silent position, so I call Arnie to find that he HAD been calling me, and he calls me THREE times through the day to chat, talk about "Saludos Amigos," and to tell me to send a resume to AAA. Finish the retyping of the five pages to finish my updating of the movie list, write a letter to Mike, and then want to read at about 3, but then decide it's time to get rid of the stack of Christmas cards and bring the "received" notations up to date, so I do THAT until 4, then start looking at other things, like sending "Come to Me" to Peter Holliday, retyping "Tell-M" for National Lampoon, and writing a cover letter to Singer at AAA. Shave and shower and brush my teeth, watch an amusing "Star Trek" by David Gerrold on Tribbles, stolen from Heinlein's flat-cats and Vonnegut's harmoniums among others, and get out to est at 6:55, getting to the Statler to just miss the guests, and in to an entertaining evening (see DIARY 10561). Out and home to call Rolf, who's staying in town this weekend rather than going skiing, then settle down with porno to come without smoking at 11:30, and I get VERY hard, feeling LOVELY, but really want to COME, so I build up to a great throbbing red hardness and just carry it though for ONE spurt of linked plasticells that are definitely a different color from the milkier spurt of fluid that ALSO leaps far above my navel, and then the rest spasms onto my navel for a LARGE volume. Feel quite relieved, though I have urethral discomfort because I shit right afterwards, and feel all kinds of binding inside. Finish reading "Fasting" (see DIARY 10563) from 12:10, checking with "Superlatives" at 1:10, sleep at 1:20.

DIARY 10564

SATURDAY, JANUARY 17. Up about 9:30, feeling lethargic and like doing nothing. Phone Pope after meditation to see what his books have to say about coming off slowly, and they rather agree with Cott, so I'm out for groceries of orange juice and apples and carrots and walnuts and yogurt and milk after going shopping for a yogurt-maker and buying one at A&S for $10, after stopping at the bookshop and picking up three books which I REALLY don't need. Mix up the orange juice and start having it at 2, deciding that THAT'S the time to come off the fast, counting it as 3½ days, or a half week. The rest of the morning was spent deciding to go home on Tuesday by the 1/2 price Greyhound for $33.35. Still don't feel like doing anything, so I read "Confucius and Confucianism" between 2 and 5, when I go over to Rolf's to ask HIM about coming off fast, and he's saying that I barely got INTO it in three days, but going down to 144 is low enough (see DIARY 10565). Back home at 6:05 to watch ludicrous gladiatorial combat with everyone in a 20th-century "Rome" with escaped slaves worshipping a sun that turns out to be a Son of God, verifying "someone's law of parallel evolution," which permits names like Flavius and Decius on OTHER PLANETS. Ha. Meditate with such mouth-waterings that I decide to break the fast for good with a carrot, then end up eating 8 slices of the French toasted bread, all the juice, Mike Mackey comes over for poppers at 9, a tall doll, then I'm out for the Times, reading the whole thing except for doing the puzzle by 11:50, when Saturday Night starts, rather a lot of fun, but the puzzle goes fairly slowly since I'm watching all of it, so I sit through one of the worst pictures ever made: "Year 2889" with soap-opera characters and Saturday-morning monsters with armor plating after an atomic explosion makes them into mutants that rather shyly invade the people in the protected valley, and what it had to do with 2889 I didn't see, since I missed the start of it. Finally the picture and the puzzles are both over about 2, and I fall into bed, rather disgusted with myself, feeling almost bloated by too much food, feeling that the fast certainly did NOT allay my PSYCHOLOGICAL hunger for food, which undoubtedly is a substitute craving for AFFECTION from someone NICE!

DIARY 10566

SUNDAY, JANUARY 18. Set the alarm for 11 but shut it off at 10:50 when I got up, watched a funny Anna Russell on TV and woke up Arnie telling him to watch it and that I wouldn't be seeing "Saludos Amigos" with him at 1, then continued with watching David and Julie Eisenhower from 11:30 to 12, then talked to Pope about the awfulness of getting off a diet (see DIARY 10565), tentatively say I'll meet him at 3:30, then read another article from the Magazine, have a DELICIOUS apple, shower and wash my hair, fart around until 1:30 when I watch "Directions" commenting on the Church's commentary on premarital sex, homosexuality, and masturbation (see DIARY 10567), and it's thrown MY thoughts of the church TOTALLY away. Then at 2 get involved in Bernstein's talking about musical syntax (see DIARY 10568) so I call Pope and Arnie to say I won't be going to the flea market in The Bank (and Pope later says it's pretty bad), call Bob at 12:30 and wake HIM up, so he calls me back to say he doesn't want to see the dance program; call Michael S at 3 and HE'S just wakened up; call Michael B to cancel the Rolfing since I'm going home; called Mom (who SOUNDS like she's not talking to me) and Rita (who says MOM is giving her the trip to Hawaii) and say I'll be there at 9:10, and Mom says that RITA might be there to pick me up. The Bernstein program ends with a FABULOUS slit-screen trip to "Liebestod" that John J. O'Conner hated in the Times. Then out in the COLD cold to get lost walking around Pace, finally find the beautiful Schimmel Center at 5:05, and the Fred Benjamin Company starts at 5:15 (see DIARY 10569), which enables Michael to see most of it, and it's pretty GOOD, with FABULOUS bodies. Out at 7:30 and subway up to 8th Street for pizza and the 8th Street Cinema for "Hollywood Revue of 1929," which sadly I'd SEEN (but I smoked, so it wasn't THAT bad), and "Paramount on Parade," which was somewhat worse since the people were less well known, though Arnie said it HAD ended with a COLOR sequence. Out at 12:30, catch a train, have to get off because it goes over the bridge, sitting VERY depressed in the station, almost debating NOT going home, and get home about 1 to find the heat blasting away, so I smoke and get VERY involved in bidi and popper and porno and come with STIRRING strength and GREAT excitement for a FABULOUSLY FELT orgasm about 1:45, and zonk out at 2.

DIARY 10570

MONDAY, JANUARY 19. Wake at 9, then again at 10, and out of bed after 11, feeling pretty awful, though I sort of lay there, thinking all sorts of things (see DIARY 10571-10574) and then masturbate with porno again, and then pull myself out of bed, don't even meditate, get down to typing, and Arnie calls twice, once to ask how the movies were, again to say that he's got a job going to Acapulco on THURSDAY for a week with the company for which I typed his resume, and I start doing research on "many I's" talking to Pope about it, scanning the Horney books, and then read the EB article on Confucius to catch up with. Don calls to say that he'd been away, been sick, and to wish me to have a good time at home in Ohio. Jim Moultner calls for some amyl and I wake Fred Bassoff, who sounded dead, to tell him I was going until Monday. Rolf called to say that his "friends" in the North Carolina stock brokerage wouldn't take me on a margin account because they didn't know me. I had breakfast of cereal, lunch of two bacon sandwiches which tasted VERY good, and nibbled on toast and nuts through the day, ending up feeling too bloated with a quart of orange juice downed in too short a time. Watch "Star Trek" to find that I'd seen it, the one about Spock's father getting sick, and turn on Channel 31 to watch a Nova on TM, but it's usurped by something about the "State of the Union" message, so I come back to type THIS page, having typed 15 today, along with the next one, and get caught up as much as I can on typing before I leave on my NEXT trip home tomorrow morning. Then quickly type the cover letter for the resume from AAA, since I DO have to get that out, then (gave the key to John this morning) fix the rest of the apartment for John's watering the plants, clean out the humidifier again, set the alarm for 6 am to make sure I get to the bus promptly at 8 am, then decide I don't have to do any packing, having washed my socks to finish the LAST thing that I had to do before I left. Feeling quite tired, maybe because I didn't meditate today, but then I probably won't meditate in Ohio, either, so I manage to get to bed at 11, smoking to get myself to sleep in time to have 7 hours sleep before the alarm goes off.

DIARY 10576

TUESDAY, JANUARY 20. [TEN days behind, worst since the LAST time I went to Akron in October-November.] Alarm jolts me at 6, though I'd wakened beforehand and was too lazy to shut off the alarm (or too afraid I'd slump back into sleep and miss the time). Have some cereal, shower without washing my hair because it's just too COLD to do that, pack, taking lots of books, and get out at 7;15, surprised that the suitcase is so heavy. Subway is quite slow, lots of people milling through the tunnels, but I'm glad to find VERY few people at the ticket office taking advantage of the half-price day today, and get to the bus with lots of time to spare. It's even quite empty, and I watch some of the Jersey industry roll by before getting into "Autobiography of a Yogi" which is quite fascinating. Stop in some dinky little place in Jersey (it MUST be a legal requirement), then in Philly, where I dash upstairs at 10 and have some scrambled eggs and home fries in the 20 minutes available to us, and back to get a black sitting next to me who dozes most of the way, and I even thank him when his friend across the aisle says that there's no smoking in the front, and he's rather playful about it. It starts snowing heavily in the middle of Pennsylvania, but by the time we get to Pittsburgh about 5, it's stopped. I again had three salads (tossed, cottage cheese, and citrus fruit) at the ghastly Breezewood for lunch about 2, only a half hour, and merely sit at the gate at Pittsburgh, getting pretzel snacks in Youngstown at 8, then fretting about the stupidity of getting stuck in the snow in Kent for about 15 minutes while the smell of burning tires rises above the whine of the driver trying to "burn" us out of the snow bank he idiotically drove into. Into the station about 9:20, see no one, out to the curb to see cabbies sitting stupidly not looking at me, and then Rita comes up behind me: she'd been sitting at the other end and I completely missed her. Turns out there's a surprise party for Grandma, who IS surprised to see me come in, then we're over to Helen's for cake and ice cream with Henry and Marion and Jimmy, and we're out at 10, I get into the colder front apartment because she's got someone in back who's the son of the people three houses down the street, and I get to bed about 11, saying I'm tired, and jerk off VERY nicely even though the room's chilly.
DIARY 10577

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 21. Wake about 8, read a bit, and get down at 10 when Mom said to get down, having put all my clothes away. We're having breakfast of waffles about 10:30 when two policemen (detectives in plainclothes actually) come in to ask her to identify four photographs in a RAPE CASE. Mom gets into EVERYTHING! She looked out and saw it happening, and the girl refuses to talk to them, so it's all up to Mom, who goes through her alternating moods of coquettishness, anger, stupidity, vacillation, and factuality while they wait patiently for her to get ANYWHERE. They leave about 11:00, and Helen calls to ask me if I want to go to Chapel Mall with Jimmy, so I say OK, and he says he'll be there at 11:15, so I shave and wash, then out to shovel the snow from the sidewalks until he actually shows up at 11:25. It's still snowing very lightly, he keeps talking about his Cadillac, and I pass a bookstore at 210 E. Cuyahoga Falls Avenue that gets me to thinking there might be SOMETHING I can do in the city, and we get up to the Mall I'd never been to, look for belts and shoes for me but find nothing I like, then he treats me to "lunch" of a carrot salad and a strawberry shortcake with mostly rotten strawberries, and then he passes $5 in singles across to me. I shop for a sweater, size 40, for Grandma, and find a HUGE thing marked size 36, which they say fits, and he gives me his discount, so I end up paying about $1.25 for the whole thing. It's snowing much harder, he slides around a little bit in his "radials that work as well as snow tires," and we're back about 4. I stop in and talk to Grandma until about 5:30, she likes her sweater and READS the card, then home, because Rita's being taken out to dinner by a couple from work and she wants me to eat with her. We have baked potatoes that taste AWFUL with margarine, and her "special chicken" which is pretty good, but not great. And she lets me have a tiny glass of Mateus. Talk about a few things, essentially apologizing for my behavior of last time, then Rita comes in, I get her tape recorder out to record part of the Joffrey Ballet, and it's on from 9 to 10, and I find that her "half-hour tape" is only about 8 minutes, so I tune in the end of it from 10 to 11 and re-record, and Mom and Rita are running around saying they have SO much to do before the wedding Saturday. I get upstairs about 11:30, start playing with myself after smoking, but it's too cold and I don't feel very sexy, so I fall asleep about midnight, having moved the mattress OFF the floor because the COLD is worse than the SWAY in the BEDSTEAD.

DIARY 10578

THURSDAY, JANUARY 22. Rita's out to her last day of work, being taken to lunch by everyone from her department, and I'm down about 9:30 to have some scrambled eggs and start talking lightly with Mom. She's reluctant and I'm reluctant, but then I open up some space and she replies with a question that rocks me off my feet, and we're OFF (see DIARY 10579)! Chat about it more or less right through the day, taking time off to finish reading "Autobiography of a Yogi" and start "Mysticism and Logic" which is quite a bore, particularly with Mom interrupting every few minutes. Refuse another trip to Chapel Mall, listen to some of HER talking about sex, and she calls Marion and Henry, who will join us at Tangier tonight because I want to see what it's like. Rita gets in about 5:30, saying that she's drunk a few and is feeling good, and they got together to get her a blender that probably cost more than the record of $24 for a gift that SHE always organized for, and she's not at all sad to leave the company. I've showered and washed my hair downstairs at last, since it's so cold in the bathroom upstairs, and I keep looking out at the snow, which is JUST as I remember it, white and deep and constantly falling in the cold Akron January BEFORE the January thaw, which everyone remembers [and the COLDEST day was Saturday, when the heat went off in NEW YORK when it was -1° for John's birthday!] They come to pick us up, Mom still worrying about the apartment being ripped off, and their $4 million expansion isn't finished with the parking garage yet, so Henry has to park while I look at the ersatz surroundings. Since it really doesn't have the flavor of Morocco, I shouldn't be surprised when the "Tangier Special" isn't very good, and Mom's VERY turned off by un-sweet Lelani from Maui telling us a joke about "Stop it, Mother," when Mary casts her first stone at a prostitute. I crunch things in my malfoof---no, in my Kibbee Syneea, but the shashlik isn't bad, the daiquiri is sweet, and the walnut cake for dessert is good, but not $1.25 worth of good. Mom gives me $20 so my part is about $4, they drive us back, and everyone goes quickly to bed, and AGAIN I smoke and diddle about coming, and don't make it because of the cold in the room, STILL snowing outside!

DIARY 10580

FRIDAY, JANUARY 23. Snowing again, the 20th day out of the 23 days in January. Up about 9, we have six scrambled eggs between us and I finish some of Mom's, but Rita finishes hers. She's got to go to the dentist and pick up the cake this morning, so she drives me down to The Bookseller on Exchange, one of three booksellers that I find in the phonebook (with a fourth dealing only in railroads), and the basement is beautifully organized fiction where I find a T.H. White, lots of Wells that I don't take, a first edition of Algernon Blackwood's "The Fruit Stoners," a first edition of "Doors of Perception," and then up to find a WHOLE COVEY of first editions of Aldous Huxley, paying $47.74 for those and "Limbo," "Two or Three Graces," and "Themes and Variations" and then up to find "The Betty Book" and "The Cicadas," too. No one wants to take me to Cuyahoga Falls Avenue when I come back, after stopping off to buy rolls and chipped ham for lunch, and I get back at 1 in TIME for lunch, then walk down to Market for The Stagecoach, which has a basement full of books totally OUT of order, but I find "Storm" and "Fire" by Stewart, "Tenth Victim" by Sheckley, an ADDITION to the list, and "Some of Your Blood" by Sturgeon. GREAT FINDS ALL. Back at 3:30 when Marion hasn't showed up yet to look at Rita's dress (which she didn't let me see last night when she tried it on), and read until Marion comes over about 5, I find article about Grandma and Rita that Mom put in, which makes HER day, and we have dinner of ham hocks and sauerkraut and potatoes for Rita's last good luck dinner at home. Denny's in about 5:30 and leaves at 9, and then I'm over to Grandma's to talk to Jimmy for an hour after Edward arrives and talks to Helen and Grandma, and then I go over until 9:30, when Grandma goes to bed, and then back home to watch everyone rushing around, and up to bed about 11, feeling somewhat out of it because obviously Rita is the center of attention and Mom isn't far behind, and I'm rather out of place as the visitor who's distantly related yet close to the family. But I'm feeling so much better toward Mom after the conversation of yesterday that the whole thing is much easier, even though when I brought it up when Rita was around, she shushed it quickly. Try again to come, and again don't succeed, and fall asleep after reading some of the luscious "Some of Your Blood."

DIARY 10581

SATURDAY, JANUARY 24. Up at 9 and down for breakfast of waffles again, and for a moment Mom chokes up and can't eat at the thought of Rita leaving for good. She seems to be taking it all with the calm she's always shown toward Mom, which got her through the 28 years of living with her, and goes back to finish what she has to. Mom leaves for the hairdresser at 10:30 and I'm out to Rita's car to drive to Cuyahoga Falls Avenue, but get STUCK in the snow, wait around till Mom comes back at 11:30, but SHE gets stuck, and I try to push HER but it won't work; Rita's battery goes dead, Mom finds a guy (doll!) from the corner "hippie" building who helps me push HER out, and then he brings his Sting-Ray, or something, around to give me a jump to get the motor started, I keep rocking back and forth and it doesn't work, he works like a Trojan, then gets another guy to help push and I'm out at last, to merely put the car in the garage and run it to rev up the battery (though Mom says SHE has a jump, just didn't think of it before). The doll refuses $2, saying I can push him in New York if he gets stuck. Would love it! In to shower and wash my hair, and it dries while we have lunch of the chipped ham and cheese lightly broiled. We're supposed to BE there at 2, having left at 1, but we don't leave until 1:45, and then Mom drives like a BAT to get there by 2:05, and I leave Mom and Rita and Marion to fuss with Rita's makeup and hair and dress, pass through the room with Dennis and the wedding males waiting nervously, and sit and read until I get seated in the first row to wait for Mom. The wedding and dinner are quite nice (see DIARY 10582), they're home to change about 9, and Mom's tired but not tired ENOUGH, so I encourage the invitation to the Goepfert's, which she gets lost doing, finally checking at a gas station that gives us the wrong info, we ask a couple of blacks, finally get directed by the next car to past Buchtel High School, and we FINALLY get there about 10, for good drinks and lively conversation about UFOs, black holes, ESP, and other lively topics (including spelling poinsettia and ukulele and eating great nutted cheese balls on crackers) until Mary falls asleep and we leave about 12:30, driving Edward to Grandma's, home to bed, finishing "Some of Your Blood," maybe coming this time, since I think I came once BESIDE the first night, and---no, NOT tonight, because I didn't smoke at ALL and woke with the INCREDIBLE dream of DIARY 10583.

DIARY 10584

SUNDAY, JANUARY 25. Doze between 8 and 10 and have the dream described on DIARY 10583. Down to find Mom surprisingly together, and I just have a bowl of cereal and some toast for breakfast, and then she goes off for mass without any real fuss about my not going. I read the paper until she gets back, she makes dinner until about 2, I watch Leonard Bernstein until 4, or a bit before, because Marion and Henry come in from Grandma's to say hello, and they invite me to Dry Dock that night, but we can't decide what to do first, but then Mom says to just take me to THEIR place and stop to see Grandma later, so I go to Marion's (great idea, since I've just about run out of things to talk about with Mom) and talk for a LONG time with Greg and Marion about my rebirthing and Rolfing and reading and the two levels of reality and the possibility that we're on the verge of a new phase of man's evolution, and the story of "Throwback," and they both seem rapt at my words. Henry got a call to service a furnace (after he took a look at ours, too---they HAD come to see the presents which Denny and Rita unwrapped Friday night while I was at Grandma's) and came back about 7:30, so we then drove to Dry Dock, where Gary met us, and I tried the HUGE (but sadly rather tough and not really the BEST kind of taste) shrimp, some over 6 inches long, the BIGGEST I've seen---bigger than the LOBSTER TAIL Art got at the Oyster Bar, for example. I start with a Channel Marker, and that helps make the evening VERY pleasant, joking with Marion about dancing, with Gary about dating and drinking, and having a good time. Then to Grandma's after calling Helen and finding she's still awake at 9, over to say goodnight after they stop watching Frank Sinatra at 9:30 and we chat until about 10, and Helen says JIMMY will drive me to the bus tomorrow at 7:30, so that's just GREAT. Henry and Marion drive me home, I'm in to chat with Mom for a bit, but then quickly upstairs, since I'm setting the alarms for 7, and say I won't want any breakfast, and I get to bed about 11:30, putting in earplugs to shut out the noise of the clock ticking as well as everything else (the neighbor's radio, cars on the street, and the damn barking dog a few doors down), and I'm greatly content about the ease of this SECOND trip home.

DIARY 10585

MONDAY, JANUARY 26. Up before alarm rings and shut it off, have a hard time packing in all the BOOKS that I got, and Mom is shouting up at me, and I'm down for some cocoa and toast at 7:20, and Jimmy's outside at 7:25, and I kiss Mom goodbye and get down the stairs without mishap, the ice from last night having melted in the unseasonable 55° weather that succeeded the 10° frigidity of the previous week. Jimmy gets me to the terminal at 7:45 and the 7:30 bus to somewhere leaves at 8, so it's a relief when my bus is called at 8, and it leaves promptly at 8:06. Through the snowy streets, and then it starts fogging up, and I finish "Mysticism and Logic," which remains boring until the end, and then quickly get through "Birth and Death of the Sun," and I feel rather silly reading something that's so out of date, but it finished the series of Gamov books except for "Mr. Tompkins in Wonderland." Read through Youngstown, have fish and a donut for 35¢ in Pittsburgh and get in line to an almost empty bus---guess everyone IS waiting for tomorrow to travel---and settle next on "Zen Flesh, Zen Bones," which comes to some STRIKING passages about "swaying with a vehicle" and "a rainy night" when those two are VERY appropriate. End that after a dull stop in Philadelphia where I don't get off the bus, and get out "Trouble with Lichen" to beguile me with Wyndham's cool logic and neat people for the last two hours of the trip in driving rain. My suitcase pops open and CONTINUES to pop open during my miserable carry to the subway that leaves me QUITE drained of energy, and then it's raining like a SONABITCH in Brooklyn Heights, and I'm quite exhausted when I get into my place at 10:15. Glance through the mail, listen to messages, Byron Nelson comes over for a bottle at 11, I'm over to Stephen Pearlberg to borrow Arnie's Sunday Times, and then watch the end of "Juliet of the Spirits" on TV until 12:25, finishing off the toast and nuts while eating defrosted and fried pork chops, then smoke and come MOST delightfully, feeling so GOOD to be back to my grass and bidi and popper and porno that I REALLY shoot and end up sleeping VERY contentedly in my bed for the first time since LAST Monday, happy to HAVE GONE AND COME BACK.

DIARY 10586

TUESDAY, JANUARY 27. Up about 9, finish "Trouble with Lichen" because I don't feel like doing anything else, and then meditate to find my mind filled with all that I have to do today: so much to catch up with in the diary, and then I want to get back to writing. But first I go through all the mail from the vacation, looking at lots of things, and then phone Pope, who's working but who asks me to come over for Scrabble tonight at 8, so I say OK. Then I read the Times and work both puzzles quite quickly, just to be able to return them, taking down a TV schedule for the coming week. Phone Michael and some other people to tell them about my adventures in Ohio, and John drops over to say that we didn't have any heat on Saturday when it was -1°, and THAT explains why some of my plants have actually DIED in the meantime, and why some of the leaves look like they'd been frozen to the windows. I was in a bathrobe since I came during the afternoon, having nothing that I want to do more, and just felt like indulging myself after the "duty" of my trip to Akron. Get the $10 from Wills, so THAT'S off my mind. Keep piling things on my desk, haven't even unpacked yet, haven't touched the typewriter yet, but I made sure I called the movie theaters after looking through New York to see what was playing, and talked to Bob Grossman to find that there's not much new here for HIM, and he insists that I come to HIS place next for Backgammon. Shower and change clothes only in time to go to Pope's, having wasted the ENTIRE day on what I wanted to do, watching a "Star Trek" with Sargon and his mate inhabiting two of the bodies as grand immortals, and then missing all the rest of the TV blandishments of the evening to play and beat Pope at two games of Scrabble that he was going to be unbeatable in, taking Time magazine for Bob Grossman with Dorothy Hamill on the cover that he happened NOT to get and Pope happened to OFFER to me for the first time ever this evening. Watch "Mary Hartman" and I leave at 11:45, having eaten JUNK all day, finishing the carrots, eating his Cheesits, and back to come AGAIN with enormous gusto, LOVING the feel of my own cock coming, building up to an INCREDIBLE orgasm TOMORROW night, for which, see tomorrow's page, since it's after Rolfing, which will take MANY pages.

DIARY 10587

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 28. Wake at the alarm which I set for 8, and get up and shower and wash my hair, have cereal, but don't meditate before getting up to Rolfing at 9:15, getting there just before 10. It's the most incredible session yet (see DIARY 10588) and I wander in rather a daze down Central Park West, again feeling terribly IMMEDIATE and TRANSPARENT and THERE. Get to 49th or so at noon and see the Seeda Restaurant, and remember that I wanted to eat there, so I treat myself to the house special of fishy clear soup with fish cakes in it, a GREAT egg roll, and very mediocre sautéed beef that needs more spices besides onions. Have rambutan, defined in my dictionary as a Malayan fruit closely allied to the lichee, and I can barely taste the difference between the two, save that the rambutan seems NEVER to possess the overly-hard, papery inner membrane that sometimes makes the lichee tough eating. Sadly, the syrup that it's canned in is too sweet. Out at 1, amazed that a simple $2.95 special can balloon to $4.50 after dessert and tip and tax, and down to the Love Theater on 42nd to see "Beyond the Green Door," by far the best with the incredible come, "Sodom and Gomorrah," ghastly, and "Resurrection of Eve," in the middle (see DIARY 10592). Out at 6:35, feeling as if I'd really gotten my $5's worth during the almost 5½ hours of viewing, and get home VERY horny to smoke, have a great orgasm (see DIARY 10593), and then make up pork chops again to eat. Finish reading "Tenth Victim" and watch "First Breeze of Summer" from 9 to 10:30, and it's incredibly melodramatic, VERY effective, and far better than Joan's play could EVER be as an evocation of blackness (though that's not the point of her and Paul's work). Then smoke some more and debate about coming a second time, and do it anyway, and the INCREDIBLE orgasm was the FIRST ONE of the evening, since I'd obviously built up quite a charge while watching the films, and the FIRST was the one that I actually came twice, and in fact I guess the come was SO incredible that I didn't even bother to come a second time, just watched a few stray things on TV and then went to bed early, maybe at 11, just to regain strength from the EXTRAORDINARY day.

DIARY 10594

THURSDAY, JANUARY 29. May have gotten up at 7:30, or else I did that the following day, and meditate and, marvel of marvels, decide that I'm going to EXERCISE through this session of fasting, so I start off with the third level for the first time in MORE than a month (since the first Rolfing), and that leaves me quite winded and more than a little sore at the points of my shoulders, but it DOES feel good to be getting back to it. Talk to Pope and Rolf about Rolfing. Then decide that I MUST clear away the desktop before I get back to typing, and spend actually HOURS going through all the Sheckley books, bringing my list up to date, finding the order of the publication of the books, and other silly things that aren't really necessary, but for some reason I just DON'T feel like getting back to the typewriter. Also, the ceiling is falling down so badly around the hot-water pipe in the bedroom that Mrs. Johnson says that she'll have to get someone up to fix it, and I decide to harvest the grass before someone comes up, and so I put on the trip tape and play it over and over and over, from side to side to side, while I fix up the apartment, put things away, harvest the grass, and even get out the bathroom screen to sieve the stuff down properly, separating out a great load of stems for butter later, and the seeds, and ending a couple of hours later with a WHOLE JAR full of grass, and even the "current" jar somewhat replenished. Don's been calling, saying he might come over after his small-claims court hearing, and I say I have to get rid of pork chops, which I almost have to take the freezer apart to thaw, and have some of those while watching a "Star Trek" about the M-5 computer goofing and killing off a couple of other starships, and the black inventor gets a HARD slap on the wrist at the end. Then watch the Trockadero Ballet on the 51st State, finding that Clinton Smith is Natalia Veceslova, and then the second half gives Walter Terry saying a million people watched dance in 1965, and 11 million in 1975, that "more people attend dance than Broadway theaters," there are 225 regional ballets, and mentions "Louis Falco's perfect body." Indeed. Watch a bizarre "Sisters" by Brian di Palma from 9 to 11, Siamese twins that get separated, one dies, the other thinks the one lives, kills people, and screams a lot. Finish with "Mary Hartman" and again get to bed fairly early, maybe too cold to come.

DIARY 10595

FRIDAY, JANUARY 30. Up quite early again, then look through all the dance programs and decide to see Ithaca Dance Makers tonight, and Don says OK to that and I'll sleep there tonight and we'll go to Pennsylvania tomorrow. Also make reservations for TWO dances on Sunday, in case I need an excuse to get back from Penna early, and call Michael to tell him about them. Then decide that I have to call lots of people for John's talk on Monday, so I talk to Arnie and Pope and Stephen (who's been invited by John and says that Guy's out of town until Sunday, so he'll call him) and Rolf and Michael about THAT, and again a large part of the day is gone. Meditated on awaking, and exercise about noon, feeling VERY sore doing it and VERY winded with the running in place. Then have the next-to-last serving of pork chops for a very late lunch, and finally get down to typing, doing 12 pages before I decide that I have to take a shower before 6, so I shave and wash my hair, then tune in "Star Trek" to see that it's the old one about the Yangs and the Coms, which I've seen, thankfully, so I put on the hash to cook for the dinner meal and meditate with some exasperation, since I'm due to stop about a MINUTE before "Star Trek" finishes, and I see that I DID see it before, forgetting that "The Omega Glory" referred to the LAST of OLD glory that they still had, playing the National Anthem with a Star Trek-theme beat at the end. Then eat a quick dinner and have lots of wine, and then get out at 7:45 after packing VERY quickly for the weekend, to see the Ithaca Dance Makers at the Cunningham Studio, and I guess they're about 5 on a scale of 1 to 10 (see DIARY 10596). Out about 10:30, tell Don about my liquid and he drives me here to GET some, and then we DON'T smoke (I don't bring grass and then neither does HE), I say we won't be awake at 1 to watch Midnight Special with Janis Ian and Queen, but I'm DETERMINED to talk, and we have a LONG talk that I just CAN'T be honest with until he makes ONE LAST STATEMENT (see DIARY 10597) and we turn out the light about 3:30, I finally get to sleep about 4, and then the bright lights from outside wake me up at 8, after only 4 hours sleep, feeling rather miserable about the whole evening, but glad that he didn't press for sex last night at all.

DIARY 10598

SATURDAY, JANUARY 31. Wake at 8, and he's awake too, moaning about how we can turn back over and go to sleep (though he joked with the garage man when we returned about coming for the car at 7), but I just GET out of bed (to be away from him) and he queries in amazement "How did you DO that?" He works away at packing, puts on hot water for coffee and I pour juice to be surprised by lemonade and pour milk to be surprised by sourness. Great. I stare out the window at the Hudson, cursing his insistence on constant music on the radio, and we leave about 9:30 after he's showered and packed and gathered up Gastone, whose breath smells vilely and he hasn't had a bath in MONTHS. Out in a bright day, talking on and on about the various trips that I've taken, and we start discussing the possibility of our going to Florida together after he gets back from a week in Rio starting February 28th, and I talk about India and Nepal and Kyoto and the camper trip and ALL kinds of things, stopping at the Pennsylvania Tourist Information booth to pick up brochures, and then we start looking for gas stations to inspect his car at 11:15, and we find one rather quickly, finished at 11:45, and then to The Old Smokehouse, or someplace like that, for a VERY expensive sausage and Canadian bacon and eggs and coffee and milk and split pea soup ($4 each!) and then to Uncle Tom's Cabin on Knob Road, going around the knob, luckily, because later we can't see a thing, and he puts on the heat and the water, I meditate, we unpack, and I look at the maps and say "Let's go see Buck Hill Falls." So we go from 1:30 to 5:30 (see DIARY 10599) and have a GREAT time on the ice and at the waters edge, then back to catch the end of "The Time of Man," depressingly about the animalistic Eeks of African Uganda, then watch a "Star Trek" about a man from "the 20th century" beaming aboard from another planet to sabotage a space shot, and a re-do of "Space 1999" of the great "this was only what MAY happen, but you can change it" which is even MORE beautiful and CLASSIC when you KNOW what's going to happen. Then we're out to dinner, freezing 8 does or fawns in our lights at a neighboring house, and we have ANOTHER conversation in the car (see DIARY 10601) and it's GREAT to be honest, eat GREAT veal at Uguccioni's, home at 11 and he's instantly asleep at 11:30, so I crawl in and sleep TOO.

DIARY 10602

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 1. Wake at 9, surprised that it's so late, but then we didn't get THAT much sleep FRIDAY night. I'd showered last night, he showers now, but I'm wandering around looking at the snow falling outside and don't meditate, which is a pity. Get out about 10:30 to go to the corner diner and eat what he judges to be too-heavy French toast, so I eat a lot of his sausage and my scrapple (much too much cornmeal and not enough meat scraps (to use the dictionary definition that I just looked up)) and then we watch the snow turn to RAIN. Decide NOT to go to Bushkill Falls in the rain, and that the iceboat racing wouldn't be much fun either, and so he suggests that we see some of the bigger inns, and we go to Pocono Manor Inn, park, into the ENORMOUS lobby and public areas to listen to the din of kids, find that the sleigh rides have been cancelled, and drive out to try to look at Sweetwater Falls, but the road gets MUCH too slick as we start downhill, so we're back to pass the golf course and get out to watch the snowmobiling, and then, magically, the rain changes to SNOW, and he coaxes me into going, paying $4 of the $8 for the half hour between 12:15 and 12:45. I have a BALL doing it (see DIARY 10603). Back into the car to dry out in the heat, and he's managed to get his wig back together. Just amazed at the SIZE of these places as we drive around them. Forgot we stopped to get fudge yesterday, VERY tasty for $2 a pound. Then I suggest we can start back, and he loves the idea, so we're back to pack and I remind him to take Gas (for whom he opened a can of tuna this morning, having eaten only olives and pretzels that we gorged on before dinner yesterday), and we're off at 1:35, talking AGAIN about my travel luxuries until we're over the George Washington Bridge at 3:30, having decided NOT to detour to see his sister, and I read the Times at his place, he send out for Chinese food which is quite good, with Ta-Chien chicken his favorite and beef and mushrooms and bamboo shoots MY favorite, watch a boring "Caesar and Cleopatra" with Bujold and Guinness irrespectively, a "Space 1999" in which a companion dies and an almost omnipotent keeper commits suicide because "it's no fun being alone and perfect," and I'm out late for the Malamut Dance Concert (see DIARY 10604) which is AWFUL in the rain, and back to FOUR messages, including one from Susan McMahon, finish the puzzles and get to bed after coming.

DIARY 10605

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 2. Up whenever, waking the female Swinney to leave word for Don O'Shea about 10, meditate and exercise, exercising on the EASY side since I hadn't done it Saturday or Sunday, and unpack selectively, letting some things hang to dry at last, and again start calling people for John's thing tonight. Oh, forgot that I woke at 5:46, as I recall, by a BLAST outside that I thought was part of Brooklyn exploding, but it was only thunder from a freak lightning storm that also woke Arnie and kept Don's bed MOVING the whole evening, after blowing in a kitchen window that he couldn't shut. Have pork chops, the last of them, whenever it is that I have lunch, since I haven't had milk in the house for almost a week, wanting to start on a fast tomorrow, and then STILL don't feel like typing, so I read "Mistress Masham's Repose," which is totally charming yet ever-so-slightly a waste of time (see DIARY 10606), and then I decide that I have to wash my hair again, meditate when I think of it, watch a "Star Trek" in which they offend someone powerful, have to face the "Gunfight at OK Corral," which they survive by Spock hypnotizing them that the bullets are only illusion, and then since they DON'T kill, they're accepted by someone powerful. Silly one. Don calls to say he suddenly discovered he had class, I called Azak and he doesn't come but Arnie does, Stephen calls to check if it's still on, Michael says he won't come even if I pay for him, Rolf's not interested, being involved with Comten finances, and BobG doesn't come even when THREATENED not to be able to use my typewriter for a letter he has to write. Meet Pope and Arnie at the subway at 7:50, or a bit later, and get there to find Stephen, Alice Duskey, Joan Schwartz, Norman Taffel, Lucy Harms, Jan LaRue, José Roommate, but not Sergio (for whom I called Michael and TNT to find ways to SF cheaper), and chat with them all. The reading goes on to 10:30 (see DIARY 10607), we all leave together, Art Ostrin HATES it, and during the day I got a call from Don O'Shea to meet at noon at the Hilton. I finish up the applesauce and the last apple, the LAST things to eat in the house, by 1:15, and get to bed tired enough not to come or smoke.

DIARY 10608

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 3. Up about 9:30, meditate and exercise, finding that there's no stiffness from last time, but things are just HARD to do, and I decide things HAVE to be put away in case someone comes to fix the ceiling, so I unpack and get everything cleared off except the top of the desk, and then talk to Pope and Arnie and Don and get out at 11:30 to meet Don O'Shea, being a bit late as I usually am, who was waiting for me in the lobby. He wants some good cheap French food, and I think of A La Fourchette and then we can't find it, so we settle for Cafe de France, though we should have walked OUT when I found it wasn't the one from 86th Street. Aha: find just NOW there's a CAFE DU SOIR on E. 86th, so THAT'S the confusion! Anyway, he gives it 2 stars out of 5, pays $7 for his meal of coq au vin, vichyssoise, wine, and coffee, plus tip, and leaves the gal 25¢ for BOTH our coats, and I hadn't eaten and he didn't smell my breath. We talk about indexing for his book, the kids, his salary of $16,200 for 9 months and Helen's bringing the income up to $30,000, STILL not enough for a special school for the 5-year-old who's smart enough for third grade. Find that it's 2, walk up in the cold slush to the Adonis, amazed that it's so HUGE, and watch some of the TRASHIEST movies ever (see DIARY 10609) in "Sur," "Behind the Greek Door," "Superstuds," "Reflections of Youth," and "Good Hot Stuff." Out at 7:45, cold from the theater, though not really very hungry through this first day of fasting(b) (see DIARY 10610), and home to an apartment that's thankfully hot, since I'd met Mrs. Johnson downstairs at 11:30, waiting for the plumber to fix the heat that's off. Feel like jerking off immediately, but I control that impulse and type 11 pages, at least getting the days done through January so that I can change the calendar at last, and then watch a "Mary Hartman" that's sort of funny and smoke grass and bidi at 11:30 and come nicely, though not as nicely as before, and don't come a second time, and get to sleep about 12:30, having set the alarm for 8:15, since I don't have to allocate time to eat breakfast tomorrow morning. It's pretty cold jerking off so late, but I get so HOT that it doesn't matter at ALL.

DIARY 10620

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 4. Wake early and shut the alarm off at 8:10, meditate, shower, and leave about 9:10, getting to Rolfing Session #6 (see DIARY 10612-10617) at 9:50 and leaving just before 11:30, having paid in a check for $28 and $17 in cash, since I'm now down to 55¢ in the checking account! Home on the subway is a trip (see DIARY 10618-10619) and am appalled to find a sign downstairs saying that the heat is off today. How glad I am that I took a shower this morning! Call Pope and chat, saying that I might be over later if the heat doesn't come on, and call Don to say the same thing. Then determined to type the remaining pages after typing the eight pages from today itself (since I missed so much of the flavor of session #5 by doing it about a week late, and I type 21 pages in all, feeling great. Then exercise after meditating a second time, glad to be getting all these things done, and the exercising is one of the hardest things about this second day of fasting(b) (see DIARY 10621). "Star Trek" comes on just after the heat starts boiling up, and I put away the heating pad that I had covering my feet while I typed earlier, and took off the sweater over my wool pullover, but I still had to defrost my fingers while meditating. "Star Trek" was a sort of silly thing with Kirk getting amnesia on a planet "that's so earthlike that it's astronomically improbable" and becoming a god, but they have to deflect the asteroid, so Spock cures his amnesia with a mind-fuck, or whatever it is. Talk to a Don almost crying with the pain of his tooth, and with BobG debating how to come over tomorrow to use the typewriter, but I finally read the Times ads from Arnie and write a letter and send a resume for extracting work, seemingly good. Call Sergio and forget to call him back with flight information. Shower before "Birth and Death of a Star," which I'd seen before, to get off the exercise-sweat smell, and that goes from 8 to 8:30, then I start the dishes, which don't finish by 9, when the Winter Olympics start in Innsbruck and I look at the sightseeing and finish the dishes during commercials. Rather a bore, however, then watch "Mary Hartman" and see BOTH "The Stranger Within" with a fetus from outer space, and the wife gets "drunk" on coffee and joins a dozen others like her as the sun flashes and her painting of a double-sun world with the earth large above bursts into flames at the final credits at 1:15. "The Power" is even odder, screenplay by John Gay, novel by Frank Robinson, about "Adam Hart" with superhuman powers, and George Hamilton, shirtless many times, tracks down Michael Reenie until GH has it! Confusing. Bed at 1:50, not smoking or sex.

DIARY 10623

THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 5. Get up at 8:40, before alarm rings at 8:45, and meditate, phone Bob and agree to phone him later, shower and dress nicely in tan bells, red pullover, blue blazer, and black coat, and meet Arnie just at 9:30. Get to the Town Suite (past the pool on the 5th floor) of the City Squire about 9:55, and have a GREAT meeting (see DIARY 10622) until 1:30, when I call Bob, arrange to meet him at Macy's at 2, and Arnie walks down with me, I give the maps to Bob, then subway home. Read mail, exercise with GREAT difficulty on my third day of fasting(b) (see DIARY 10624), and want to start reading, but decide I really should type, so I do three pages, then decide I have to phone people: leave a message with Don, who doesn't call back; leave a message with Sergio, who DOES call back, so I can call Fran, make his reservations, and then get a call from him at 10 CHANGING them! Call Stephen to talk about Monday, and we talk for about an HOUR, and he liked John's performance and thought about it a lot, but is a bit put off by John's closedness and criticalness. BobG calls and talks about coming over on Saturday, and later in the evening PAUL calls and chats for about an hour, saying he might come over Saturday evening. This all takes a LOT of time, and I keep wanting to just READ, but never seem to get down to it. Finally get in touch with Teo Young, who comes over for liquid just as Jim Moultner calls for two and they meet here and chat for a bit. By then it's time for "Star Trek," where Spock falls in love with the Romulan commander (female) and Kirk poses as a Romulan with pointed ears and "dies" and steals their covering device. Then watch "Neon Follies" on 31 from Brooklyn College, rather ghastly, and do odds and ends of phoning until 8:30 (including meditating, the WORST time during a fast!) when I turn on the Olympics, intending to read during that, but it's so fascinating that I can't take my eyes off the downhill skiing, the mandatory dance figures, and even the women's speed skating! That's till 11, then "Mary Hartman" puts me to bed, where I read until 12:15 in "The Fruit Stoners," which isn't very good until it starts getting VERY metaphysical and time-philosophical. Toss and turn before sleeping because I haven't smoked, up to piss at 1 and 5:30, and feel rather strung-out from the fasting, debating finishing early.

DIARY 10626

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 6. Up about 8:30 to meditate, then finish reading "The Fruit Stoners," finding it VERY mystically oriented (see DIARY 10627), and then get down to typing two diary pages to catch up. Decide to fertilize the plants so that the smell will be gone when BobG and Paul come over tomorrow, and down for the mail about noon to find that the bank statement has finally come so I can figure how much I want out of it. Also called Fran to clear up Sergio's ticket and Fred to ask him for mescaline and Pope just to chat. By the time all THAT'S done it's 1, and I've gotten together a shopping list, so I go to the bank, buy a grater and bathing caps and Binaca and shop at the used-book shop, and then buy groceries. Back somewhat winded, read a bit more (I guess I finish "TFS" NOW rather than in the morning), and then exercise a bit EASIER on this my fourth day of fasting(b) (see DIARY 10625) and then decide to type THAT page since it's so current. And it makes at least three pages each day for the last four. Then shower, and, amusingly, I know quite PRECISELY, now, that I finished "The Fruit Stoners" at 5:05, in time to fluff up my hair, meditate, get ready to leave for About Sex, and watch a "Star Trek" where "The Angel" has corrupted children (but given them GOODY powers of controlling everyone's mind) but then turns ugly when they don't fear him. Zip out at 6:54, but there's a LONG delay before the train comes, a LONG wait at Wall Street, and wait for the local, so I get in at 7:30, walk across a guest seminar (which I didn't see until I got OUT) to get to the john, and get in after the smiling confrontation at 7:35. The seminar is rather frustrating (see DIARY 10629), but I get out at 10:30, do some book shopping and buy two MORE books (just what I need) and get home at 11:30 to call Sergio and tell him what he needs, and call Fred, who's in bed, so I go over and pick up 26 mescaline for $2.50 (normally $2, says Teo) and he tells me he can get acid for the same price (normally $1, say Teo). Borrow his "Mephistofeles." Back feeling not tired, so I start "The Teachings of Gurdjieff" at about 12:10, watching TV intermittently to see all the food ads, and finish it at 2:20 am, rather tired, and have less trouble getting to sleep, even on my BACK.

DIARY 10631

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 7. Up about 10, not bothering to make the bed until I find out if Paul's coming over; if so, I change the sheets. Meditate, type one page, call Arnie and Pope and say I'll take stuff over to them, exercise, shower, and Rolf calls about movies; I do research and call back but he's gone (when I call on Sunday, he says he FOUND where the Wertmuller double was playing and they went THERE). Paul calls at 1:30 and says he's coming at 8. Bob calls and says he'll be here at 2. I leave for Arnie's at 1:30 and he talks my ear off until 1:50, then over to Pope's and he wants help in checking his checking account balance, and I leave at 2 to find BobG walking back, saying he's freezing, having gotten there minutes before, since he hadn't left when I called him at 1:10 when I came out of the shower late. Bob types his letters, I clean the typewriter ball when he says the e's are stuffed up, and I read the start of "Tier 3000," fabulous, and then at 4 (he's also brought over the Sears ad, and it DOES look like a blot on the photographer's plate below those famous shorts; and we watch bits and pieces of skating on TV) we start on backgammon (after I make him SO sad that I won't fix him popcorn when I'm FASTING!), and this is my fifth day of fasting(b) (see DIARY 10632), me saying that he'll surely win because I'm slow on my reflexes (see there?) and I'd called Art earlier to tell him I can't come, and he's saying he's LEAVING in half an hour: Joyce's heating went off, pipes froze, plants died, lemon tree may have frozen too. But I win the first tourney and am ahead on the second when he leaves at 6:40 (and I'm watching a "Star Trek" that has the primitive men living above and the sophisticated women living below a planet, the latter stealing Spock's brain for the Controller, and Bones puts it back after getting a zap of the mind-machine and being helped by Spock!). Also call Teo in the AM to get Jim Moultner's number, and he gives me the prices I indicated on DIARY 10626. Then I fix up the apartment, meditate, clean my teeth, put in contacts after shaving and showering, and just finish putting on the sheets when Paul rings on the dot of 8. We smoke his dynamite "Buffalo Grass," listen to the BeeGees, look at my porno books, get hot enough for me to do him with GREAT long buildups and a lot of frustration, but he says I was sure up for HIM, too, though I didn't come. Listen to music, watch some Olympics on TV, I leave at 11 for Times, do the puzzle and read it ALL by 2, then to bed. Up to piss.

DIARY 10634

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 8. Up at 9:15, forgetting about the alarm which burrs at 9:50, meditate, weigh myself, and watch the excellent documentary on the spectacular objects in the Chinese exhibit from St. Louis from 10 to 11, then a half-good (until he started playing the Beethoven) program on the French horn (so-called by the English to distinguish it from the SHORTER hunting horn found in England) on Camera Three, and then finish "Growing Up in Tier 3000," a very well-done book, though I would have taken it a step farther. No one calls ALL day until Paul calls at 8 to say he's recovered from last night, and Arnie calls at 11:15 when I have the unit on while I'm jerking off. I type seven pages at various times through the day, all the while sipping, from 9:55 to 11:30, first one, then two, then three tablespoons of orange juice, then sipping the last two glasses all at once on my sixth day of fasting(b) (see DIARY 10633), which is a great success. Exercise and shower, then watch "On the Beach" from 4 to 6:30, and it's a pity I'd forgotten how UNspectacular it was and HOW much of a bore it was except for the LOVELY short duet between "Osgood" and her Admiral, who end with a toast, not to an old man, but to you, and then to a FOOLISH man. Then "Space 1999" has a DUPLICATION of the moon and its people, leading to a meeting of a "young and old" Helena to 7:30, and I've been reading "The Cicadas" during the intermissions of movies and things. Then find that they've taken the skating out of the Olympic show at 9, so I finish the diary pages, smoke and come fairly nicely at 11, finish the orange juice while reading the first part of "Fire," finding it somewhat UNnoteworthy, which is nice, since I'd debated underlining in what IS, though not a very important one, a first edition. Also typed another letter to a confusing box number for a part-time extractor's job and debated about going out and mailing it, but decided it wasn't worth the trouble of getting dressed: I'd do it tomorrow, which means that today is the ONLY day during the fast that I HAVEN'T been out. To bed at 12:05, stomach feeling perfectly comfortable after the juice, though my teeth gave a GREAT twinge of pain from the etchings on the upper left when I brushed them, setting the alarm at 8:50 so I'll be early calling the part-time editing number. Up at 3:30 to piss.

DIARY 10636

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 9. Wake at 8 and decide to try the number THEN: no answer. None at 8:15, but a black answers at 8:30 and says it's for IN-HOUSE work for 3-4 days at $5/hour immediately, and with the index coming in today or tomorrow, I just can't do it, so I say no. This, the seventh day of fasting, goes easily till 10:30 (see DIARY 10635). Meditate, then take out the laundry and mail the resume to the OTHER company, and find to my surprise that the mail's come already at 9:30, but no index. Back with a gallon of Gallo Rhinegarten to fill my liquor larder back to normal, though they were scrubbing the floor when I went into the shop. Type two diary pages, and then get started on boiling the milk for the yogurt, reading "Fire" while I'm doing all this. It takes a long time to do until I turn the fire up (HA!) a bit higher, and then it boils, takes a little over an hour to cool, I mix it up and put it on at 2:45, setting MY alarm for 7:45 (and to think they charge $10 MORE for a timer!), and continue reading. Exercise, shower, call Jim Moultner, who says that $2.50 is too much for quantities of mescaline, but he'll be in touch for a few. Then watch the "Star Trek" that I'd seen the end of: the beautiful blind Diana Muldaur (with a sense-dress that I missed the first time) is the escort to the "maybe he's beautiful!" insane-making Minenian (or something) named what SOUNDS like Carlos but is probably Kalos, who gets them out of "no space" and helps cure Spock, whom he's made mad. Meditate, rehearsing what I'll say to Don when I call him, and Don CALLS at 7:18, so I call him BACK at 7:22 and we talk until 8, nicely, though he's VERY low, and then I watch "Six Hundred Millennia of China" (see DIARY 10648) until 9:30, then tune in a bit of the Olympics, but it's not terribly interesting, and then decide to smoke and come. Try working away, pleased to do it before 11, when the heat goes off, and looking forward to a spurting session, but nothing happens, though yesterday's was the first come in five days, and I stop hassling my cock and decide to get to sleep. But I can't. Piss, drink, and then get some OUTRAGEOUS ideas so I have to write them down, writing the notes starting DIARY 10649, and that takes me to 1:17, and THAT I consider my first day OFF fasting (see DIARY 10652), and get to sleep instantly at 1:40 am.

DIARY 10653

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 10. This first day OFF fasting (see DIARY 10652) seems to be mostly concerned about food. Wake at 8:15 and lay there with thoughts whirling through my head, and get up and start typing at 8:52 on DIARY 10637, and I go strongly until about 11:30, when I'm out to search through the shelves (and the basement) of the bookshop and come back with a NUMBER of Huxley first editions and some NEW books that I hadn't read of his, and the Nabokov that had gotten me back there in the first place. Spent $10.80 or so in all. Pick up the laundry and drop into the cheese shop and buy 1/4 pound of Bel Paese (not so hot) and a 5 oz pack of Provensal for 99¢ (tasty, but too salty and garlicky), leaving it there until I'm half down the block and wonder what I did with the little bag. Back and try vaguely to keep up with the orange juice and the apple in the yogurt, and continue typing until I've done 12 pages for the whole day. Then insist on finishing my reading, and I finish "Fire," pretty good (see DIARY 10654) and The Cicadas," poems by Huxley, not so great (see DIARY 10655). Exercise better, then look over the index, which finally got here Friday by "Priority Mail," and I don't think I'll have trouble finishing it by Monday, two days early for the Harried Barbara Bullied. Art calls to say the lemon tree is saved, I talk to Pope and say I feel VERY high from what I think is the end of the fast, and say that I want him to read the things that I wrote last night and this morning, and Michael calls for about a half hour just to chat. I don't shower, though my hair is filthy, waiting for a morning shower for Rolfing and for Don tomorrow evening. Meditate late, about 2:45, and water the plants just before "Star Trek," which is a neat one with a beautiful, almost ballletically-moving Kathryn Kays as a mute Empath, feeling (actually, TAKING) the pain from another, and AGAIN they make this ploy for humanity in the face of unyielding super-brains (things DO begin to look the same on this program: beaded veils over body-stockings; double-domes with silver lame gowns; otherwise everything like earth, speaking English), who yield. Then flop about for an hour and watch "The Animals Nobody Loved" about mustangs and coyotes and rattlesnakes from 8-9, then come VERY nicely (see DIARY 10656), and watch Monty Python, Animation Festival, and "Mary Hartman" before bed at 12.

DIARY 10662

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 11. Up at 7:40 and shut off the alarm, shower and wash my hair, and that takes so long that I don't even meditate---but what it was that I DID to take that time, I can't remember---maybe I DID meditate! Anyway, out at 9:15 to an effective Rolfing session #7 on the head (see DIARY 10657), and back at 12:30 to get down to typing, and get through 13 pages before I'm finished with it. Again a lot of the day is centered around eating, since this is the second day OFF fasting (see DIARY 10661), and I also start reading "Storm" almost from the sheer perversity of it than for any other reason. Don calls to make sure he's coming over this evening, and before I know it I'm watching a "Star Trek" about the Tholian Web, one of their portmanteau stories where they're being trapped in a web, there's a "disease" that makes everyone want to kill everyone, and Kirk is trapped between dimensions and spaces and they have to get him back---and there are even portmanteau authors: a man and a woman. Start on the Color index from 7 to 8 (oh, also slightly regretted a letter from AAA saying that they're not offering me anything at this time; called ACC to say that I hadn't got my check from my bill of December 29; exercised with TOTAL ease) and then Don calls at 8:30 from the St. George to say that my bell isn't working AGAIN. Complain to Mrs. Johnson, let him in, and we look through my stuff for Rio, which, I'm embarrassed to find, isn't really THAT much, not even coming up with a list of 20 things to see in the city. We watch lots of Olympic figure skating (incredible John Curry!!!) (called BobG to go with us tomorrow, but he has an interview in Connecticut at 2, so he doesn't want to make the day too crowded so he won't come), and then I get some of the large books about the trip to Florida out, and he's not seen ANY of this, but keeps saying that he'll have to spend time with family and old friends, and I keep saying I'll just stay on the beach or read a book, but it doesn't seem QUITE as certain, though we'd leave 2-3 weeks after he gets back from Rio (with the gay Gypsy Feet agency) on March 7. Watch "Mary Hartman" between looking, he leaves at 12:05, grabbing at my waist and not trying to kiss me goodnight. I read more of "Storm" and flake out at 1, getting to sleep easily without smoking or coming (but daiquiri helps).

DIARY 10667

THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 12. Earliest morning's passage recorded on DIARY 10666, because it seems it took so much time to do so much of so little. That all takes me to 11, including the five diary pages, and then I work on the index (at one point so impressed with the "connectedness" of the book to what Pope and I had been talking about the advent of meditation and ESP into EVERYTHING I phoned him and told him about it) from 11 to 1:15, but then I get hungry and have tuna for the first flesh off the fast, and then get back to the indexing at 1:45, finishing reading almost the first 200 pages by 5, which is by far the worst of the job. GREAT. Even call Barbara for a question, to show her I'm working, and they're off on Monday so I'll take it in on Tuesday, a whole week's work. Work only 5:25 hours today, but that feels VERY good. Dror's Terry calls for two more bottles, I call Don and find we're still going, so I shower and shave and brush my teeth and then even have time to meditate before leaving at 5:55, but don't exercise, to meet Terry promptly at 6:15 at 14th Street and get $16 from him, then up to Don's at 6:32 to meet Moirya and harp about being late, leaving there at 6:45, finding a parking space on 112th at 7, and he takes a LONG time with the menu, nothing really pleasing him until he decides to have my mezedakia, and it's a smaller portion, but still good, and I start with the egg-lemon soup, and the whole thing is $12.15, of which he pays me $6 and I buy him a 40¢ ice cream cone for dessert afterwards. Pay the check at 7:50 and get up to Riverside Theater just at 8 and in for the Greenhouse, so derivative of Erick Hawkins that it's pretty bad (see DIARY 10668), but it's over at 10:10, Sergio had left, so we walk down Broadway where I buy a DELICIOUS "scotch on the rocks" butterscotch, the best in AGES in its creamy tastiness, MUCH stronger than Don's watermelon ice. Then he buys a quart of cherry vanilla at Baskin-Robbins and drops me at 96th Street at 11, and I'm home to finish reading "The Betty Book," interesting, and then smoke and try to come, but in DELAYING it so exquisitely I LOSE it, and get into EATING, EATING, EATING (see DIARY 10670), then read more of "Storm" and get to sleep about 2 am, totally stoned on grass, bidi, and popper, food and reading.

DIARY 10674

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 13. Wake and up pretty immediately at 9:30, determined to cut the time "wasted" yesterday from 3 hours to two hours (and I don't even have to water the plants), and I meditate and copy down even MORE ideas for pages to write, ending up with 7 for the day, and get everything down and manage to get back to the index by 11:40, finishing the marking by 1:40 and still not feeling hungry enough after breakfast to eat lunch, so I start the typing through half the pages, figuring it would be nice to have about 500 cards, and come out with precisely 62½ strips of 8---which I'm floored to see is EXACTLY 500 cards! Then have lunch of half-can of tuna and grate a half-apple into a half-pint of yogurt and eat half that (so how much apple did I EAT?). Down for the mail and go through that, then back to the index at 4:40, typing the rest and getting 338 more cards before 6 and "Star Trek," where the enterprise gets invaded by an energy-form that eats hatred, a real sword-and-spy funny story, and then get to sorting the cards until 7:30, when I turn on Leonard Nimoy on something on UFOs, which looks pretty bad, so I'm back to cards until 8, when I turn on the Olympics and watch it selectively until 9, when I turn back to "The Taking of Pelham One, Two, Three," which has a CUTE ending when Walter Matthau says "Bless you" to Martin Balsam's sneezing, and then pokes his head through the door with a GREAT expression on his freeze-frame just before the credits. And Robert Shaw electrocuting himself on the third rail ranks with his being eaten by a shark in "Jaws." Sweet Bob Grossman calls me when Dorothy Hamil is winning her gold medal, and I flip back and forth watching both until 11, getting really the best OUT of them both, and then smoke some of the new grass and get QUITE NAUSEOUS over it (see DIARY 10675), dozing off on the bathroom FLOOR until about 1, then munching avidly on Frosted Rice for a snack before falling asleep at 1:15, feeling pretty awful, convinced that I've grown a killer-brand of grass (wondering how much of it might be due to the very FEW times that I sprayed for bugs), and feel a few prickles from left-over Rice pellets in the sheets, and I weigh 150 pounds in the AM.

DIARY 10677

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 14. Up at 9, to go through the meditate, breakfast, fix apartment, type two diary pages routine, and then get back to the index at 11:50 to 1:50, finishing the editing of the cards, and watch the end of something about Loch Ness and Yeti monsters that's done with a VERY scoffing, childish attitude that it's ALL imagination and NO basis in fact, and then from 2 to 3:30 I type the first part of the index, and stop for lunch of a half-can of tuna and the pretty decayed part of yogurt that I'd mixed yesterday, and then talked to Bob Grossman who called and begged me to do SOMETHING with him, and I suggested he could come over to play Backgammon if he wanted, but because HE was bored, I wasn't going to come in to HIS place and have dinner with him in HIS neighborhood to kill time for HIM before he went to a bar to meet someone besides me! Then back at 4:15 to finish typing by 6, watch a National Geographic Special a bit at 5 to let myself know that I'd watched this thing on Siberia once before, and then at 6 a "Star Trek" where Spock and Kirk danced a Tweedledum and Tweedledee number, made love to the nurse and to Ahura, all under the control of a "Stepchild of Plato" who manipulated matter until Spock and Kirk injected themselves with the special material on the planet so they could fight back, and Michael Whoever played a poignant dwarf. Then finish the proofreading from 7 to 8, totally finished with the index in just 19 hours, for which I charge $16 per hour, or $306 on the bill, and then smoke gingerly some of the grass and THIS time it works, I have a LOVELY extraordinarily prolonged build-up to orgasm that has my fingers moving an inch a second, is all, for a GREAT set of spasms from my brick-red, steel-hard cock. Then wipe off, have a bowl of cereal, two pieces of toast, the rest of the hash, then make POPCORN for a real ORGY of eating, while finishing reading "Storm (see DIARY 10678) by 11:30, then dressing and going out for the Times, to read part of that, see that there's not much TV next week, get into the puzzles, finish them slowly, and then actually finish the double crostic, one of the harder ones, by 3 am, and tumble into bed exhausted, being bothered through the day by arthritis (?) in my right thumb, making many quite ordinary actions connected with water faucets and indexing noticeably stiff and painful. Hope I'm not CREATING anything anti-productive for myself!

DIARY 10679

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 15. Wake about 10 and up, regretting that "Camera Three" has been usurped for a special at 11, and look through more of the paper, but then, after breakfast and meditation, decide that I MUST put the books away that I've read already, to give more room for books TO BE read, and I separate the fiction from the nonfiction, and the fiction fits in easily, but the nonfiction means that I have to move more and more off the doorside bookcase, and then move travel stuff and some first editions to the living room bookcase, and then decide that the notebooks (empty) should really go on TOP of the wide bookcase, and then things fall into place: another HIGH shelf on the wide bookcase for travel oversize books, and I make a whole shelf of THAT right away, and I move the Masterplots to the wide shelf to give more space in the wooden ones, make a SECOND shelf of reference books below it, using the space freed by the empty notebooks going on top and then the larger top of the LIVING room bookcase is used for the old physics books, and things are beginning to fall into place totally: space for both nonfiction and fiction to meet in the center by the door, but that'll take a least another year to fill; more space for travel stuff, expansion space for the writing notebooks; better placement of things like the Bible and John's Dictionary and foreign language dictionaries, and I even finally get into the stuff I'd piled below the living room bookcase, putting all THOSE things away. Take time off to chew and munch and eat, watching a "Space 1999" that's more of the same: a planetoid trying to take over by possessing their bodies, but then they suicide when Koenig informs them that their mother planet has been destroyed in a nova. Big deal. Then back to putting things away, feeling VERY good about that, but the only OTHER thing I did today was type three diary pages. Decide to try my grass again, this time without drinking, and it works VERY well, I have a MARVELOUS come, and still think I SHOULD have washed dishes and vacuumed the rugs and at LEAST exercised and washed my hair, but NOTHING else got done but putting stuff away on the bookshelves, and it felt GOOD to have the time to do it, now that the index's finished and even TOMORROW'S a holiday!

DIARY 10685

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 16. Up fairly early, maybe 9, and meditate and have more of the lovely Frosted Rice, and am appalled to see that I've finished TWO boxes this weekend, and decide I just can't have them in the HOUSE anymore. Also decide that what I REALLY want to do today is generate a list of books that I want, so I type the main page, with Huxley and Clarke, and there really ARE a lot of books that I want by both of them: 20 of each, and both their total titles are just under 50. Then figure if I EVEN want to check what's NEW for people that I have a lot of, I have to have a LIST of those, so I make a page for Heinlein, Sheckley, Bradbury, and Hesse, with only 7 books known that I want from the three. Now it gets slower, and I take more time just THINKING about it, but finally finish the next two pages, with almost EVERYONE on the lists, and then make a MASTER list of books wanted, and I'm totally pleased with doing it at last, though I'm NOT too pleased to see that I want 106 titles by 26 authors! That's more than a YEAR'S reading there!! Not to mention at LEAST $200 and a lot of shopping!! Shower and wash my hair just to get crud off since THURSDAY and then Michael calls tonight. Then have SOME kind of food at 6 while watching a "Star Trek" with accelerated people who are only a high-frequency buzz in normal people's ears, and then decide that my NEXT occupation will be getting rid of the souvenirs, so I get into the Canada stuff and find that I'll just have to KEEP most of it separate, since it's stuff that I WANT to keep, but it's not CURRENT TRAVEL information. Get out the PERSONAL box and find it's the same, but then get into some of the US trips and find LOTS of stuff that I can use for Don's and my trip to Florida. Then about 8:45 Michael calls and asks me to be his buddy for the Club Baths, and it just about fits, so I say I'll meet him at 9:30 and get there about 9:40, having smoked, to find he's there ALREADY for a few minutes. It's a great evening (see DIARY 10686), I get home about 2:30, have some eggs, do some more reading in the Psychedelic Review, and get to bed about 3:30, feeling AGAIN that I've eaten too much just before bedtime, but the successful sex feels GOOD, the book list feels GOOD, and I'm looking forward to SHOPPING at Barnes and Noble tomorrow FOR my list wants. Hope to get a couple DOZEN titles filled!

DIARY 10688

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 17. Had phoned for the schedule about 3:30 am last night (this morning, actually), and got out of bed at 9:45, feeling perfectly OK with only 6¼ hours sleep, to meditate and figure I've GOT to get back to exercising. Call Michael about 10:30 and thank him for the evening, but he's feeling VERY sick and will be going home soon. I finish the Frosted Rice for breakfast, type one diary page, look through more stuff from the closet, pile up a stack of empty boxes to be put into the box closet, don't feel like typing any diary pages, and get out about 1 (NO!!!). Call Barbara Bullied about 10, saying I'll have the index to her at 11, take it to her, pass John Cernusca in the hall, and he's moved to a new office, then walk down to Barnes and Noble, feeling almost STONED in my appreciation of the people, the buildings, the passing New York scene, and don't even count the BLOCKS I'm feeling so "here now" with everything, and get down to do LOTS of checking in the Paperback Books in Print catalog from December 1974, and then make a list of publishers that I look through, and find NOTHING AT ALL except "Midwich Cuckoos," and finally downstairs to pick up a book on sea shells, and those are the ONLY TWO in the whole place, and that's SILLY! Subway up to 103rd, buy two slices of pizza, keeping FORGETTING the mid-block one is the best, and then wait on line to get in at 2 for "Heart of the West," sort of a cowboy "Day of the Locust" and not THAT funny, with Andy Griffith stealing his screenplay of "Heart of the West," and "Wind and the Lion," which starts out with a GREAT kidnapping, then devolves into junk. Out at 6, home at 6:30 to watch the end of a "Star Trek" where they attain warp 14.1 without going ANYWHERE, really, Jim Moultner picks up a bottle and 10 mesc for $25, then EXERCISE and am JUST about to shower when I see at 8 that I wanted to go to the Carnegie Hall Cinema!! Call Don, he wants to see the Cocteau double, I fuss around until 8:20, get there at 8:47, and it's NOT STARTED YET, though it was scheduled at 8:35, and I'd not eaten, so I have an AWFUL quarter-quiche for $1.75, then a ham and cheese on pumpernickel for $1.30, and I've paid $6.05 for movie and dinner, and Don's in at 9:15: "Orpheus" has some SILLY things and some GREAT things, with Casares as "your death" for aging Marais, two motorcycle thugs, then "Phantom Baron" is a VERY involved story with Alain Cuny as a rustic-become-baron, a turn-to-dust baron behind a wall (and it's RATHER like Jacques Tati's "White Ghost," or whatever), and it's VERY romantic with its sleepwalking and ruined castle in moonlight. Out at 12, to Don's for 2 eggs, bed at 1:30 without fussing.