022709

                                                                                                       San Francisco, CA

Friday February 27, 2009

     7:10am  I just woke up. The sun is up. I'll get up and take a picture.  

                   I am scared. My back is killing me and it's taking me some serious effort to get out of my sleeping bag. I can barely move at all. I can't get up. It's kind of freaking me out. I need to go see the medicine woman. I should look for a place to stash my stuff so I don't have to haul around my heavy pack. It's going to take me a long time to pack up out of here. Also, my marijuana smoking might be detrimental to my back pain. Every time I cough, and I usually only cough when I take a hit of weed, no matter how big, but every time I cough it sends a jolt of intense pain to my lower left back. I should hold off from toking until my back feels better.

     8:17am  I am all packed up after such a long time. Man, I need some help. I might have to go to the hospital.

                   Stairs I limped down.  

                   Coast  

     8:30am  Liz at Europa Express produce store volunteered me an apple. I appreciate it. Everybody gets credit.

     8:32am  I just walked up to the transfer center over by the Safeway and the nice driver gave me a courtesy ride.

     8:56am  I forgot to tell you, I got off the bus at Schrader and Fulton. I'm walking down the hill to Haight.

     9:22am  Louis volunteered me a dollar for breakfast. I appreciate it, brother. Everybody gets credit. Check out my website. I've been all over the country for seven years now.

     9:27am  I forgot to tell you, I walked to the McDonald's and this dude sees me and asks me, "Hey, are you from San Antonio?" His name is Red. I knew him from Travis Park. He said he had checked out my website a long time ago back when I had that psychedelic background to it. It's a small world. I'm sure I told you you'd see me again. I'm everywhere. Red told me, "I can't believe I saw you again. That was so random."

     9:57am  I came to Hippie Hill and am laying down to rest my back.

     11:42am  I pulled out my tape recorder to log the generosity of some guy I was bumming a cigarette off in a circle of kids sitting in the grass on Hippie Hill. All of a sudden this dude with dreadlocks gets all aggro with me. Dude: "Get the fuck out of here with that tape recorder!" That's right, be afraid, be afraid. I had bummed a cigarette off of Domino. That aggro dude had seen me in Monterey too. Hehe, I'm everywhere. Hippiecrite.

     12:55pm  I've spent all this time laying in the grass. I got up and I thought I was going to go to Haight Street, but I've been sitting here by the big peace sign on the sidewalk where people hackey-sack. I'm just offering my website to people as they're walking by.

                     Rick was nice enough to give me a cigarette in the park. I appreciate it, Rick. Everybody gets credit. Thanks a lot.

                     This guy playing hacky-sack failed my test.

                     I came to Haight Street to pass out my website and call people ignorant.

     3:04pm  Nick, I ran into a brother from Austin. He saw me free hugging it on Haight Ashbury and told me, “Hey, let’s go for a walk. Hehe, I know what that means. I loaded up and we climbed the hill a little and he smoked a brother out. I appreciate it, brother. Everybody gets credit.

                   I forgot to tell you what happened. Nick smoked me out. We started walking up Ashbury looking for a place to smoke. I said, screw it, anywhere and we sat on the sidewalk. We sat down and sparked up a bowl. All of a sudden we notice people walking up to the house we sat down in front of taking pictures of it. Nick went, “Oh man, this is it.” It’s the house where the Grateful Dead used to live! 710 Ashbury. What a freaking “coincidence” that the random spot I decided to sit down and smoke, was right in front of the old Dead house!    

                   Cool, Nick hooked me up with a big nugget. I’ve got weed to smoke.

     4:05pm  Adam and Liz are being nice enough to give me some change for the cause. I really appreciate it. Everybody gets credit.

                   Michael, he had walked by earlier when I was flying my bag on Haight/Ashbury.

 

                    He walked up and handed the group of kids that were talking to me a fat joint. Lucky for me, none of them smoked weed and let me have the joint. Well, Michael just walked by again and gave me another fat joint! He told me, “Sorry you didn’t get the last one. I thought those kids had something to do with that it said on your bag.” I told him it was cool, that I ended up with the joint anyway. So I got two!

                   Dudes I told my story to.  

                   Look up who? Khalil Gibran

                   It’s so awesome I got hooked up with two big fat joints. I smoked half of one with this one dude who walked by and asked me if I had any. I’m going to go back to Haight Street.

                   Oh yeah, I didn’t tell you. I was all hungry. Ted’s road-dawg, Ted from Berkeley, I’m recognizing people all the time in San Francisco. His road-dawg gave me three dollars and I bought a slice of pizza.

Next day..