Tuesday, May 21, 1974
Had the 3-wheeler at the ball park tonight: Giants played the Atlanta Braves and Hank Aaron, the new Home Run King. When Aaron came out of the his team’s locker room, I was standing in the tunnel, so I reached out and shook his hand.
“Congratulations, Hank,” I said. He actually made eye contact with me, then nodded and smiled. I will never forget that.
The crowd tonight was maybe only 8,000 for a Tuesday night doubleheader AND a chance to see perhaps the greatest player in the game’s history. Baseball sure isn’t a big deal here in San Francisco!
The city was incredibly beautiful tonight. The fireplace is going, a perfect night to lie naked on the bean bag chair with a woman — only problem, NO women in my life at the moment. I still miss Erica. Talked to her the other day and UCLA is “going well.”
Finally got a good night’s sleep, but I felt depressed today (despite meeting Hank Aaron.) I’m letting the world get to me. Some guys can take all this shit, and it just rolls right off.
I envy them — that attitude’s a gift. I can’t do it. I could just kick myself about all the time I waste worrying about stuff I have no control over.
But, I do have the beauty of this place.
Thank you — but I’m out of my mind to live here. I only clear $600 a month and the rent is now $300. I do need this place. I can just open the curtains and mellow out. It’s like the city is a huge wall-mounted aquarium, and its ever-changing moods and delicate beauty are on constant display…..
……All that was missing tonight was a woman.