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She said she was going to get the embalming job and she got it. She could actually get, and this is quite amazing, a 'letter to the editor' published in one or other of the two big down-town papers when she wanted, and this is no small town. So that's where she had me. She would write for the play of it. There was no conviction. She could write anything. And she was a jokester. Had to admire the talent. But on this we never agreed. I had to have conviction.
While living the first year at Powers Street I enrolled at San Francisco State,
which was a continuation of my GI bill and higher education. The first semester
I took some kind of anthropological science course first thing in the morning, and I don't remember why. May have been a requirement. Might have been a history of science course. Not sure. In late morning I took a drawing/painting class. I never could really draw realistically, and compared to some of the people there, I should never have been let in the door.
In the afternoon I had a Greek/Roman Mythology Course, concentrated primarily on the Iliad, secondarily on the Odyssey with some little bit of Virgil's Aeneid perhaps. I remember what I was eating for lunch: yogurt, peanuts and a banana everyday. The drink was maybe plain or chocolate milk, with my cigarette.
I could keep working at the Pottery Shop. But now I had this house with this
room in back for a painting studio. So what took six months to get started? Had to be I was not sure on the course I wanted to take.
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