A 26-Year-Old’s Diary Entries From Mid-July, 1977

I guided my way to the front door after hearing Evie next door telling her family they’d overloaded their circuits. Outside, everything was black. “It’s the whole block!” I shouted as people came out into the street.

A 26-Year-Old’s Diary Entries From Early June, 1977

I was really upset by the stunning two-to-one victory in Dade County for the forces opposing the gay civil rights bill. I actually cried a little in bed at 6 AM when I heard the news from the TV in the next room, which Marc invariably forgets to shut off at night.

A 25-Year-Old’s Diary Entries from Late May, 1977

A 27-year-old guy from Queens, George Willig, climbed the towers of the World Trade Center. He’s a mountain climber who did it by using a device of his own making, saying he had been obsessed with the idea for a year. And in four hours, he succeeded, thrilling the entire city.

A 25-Year-Old’s Diary Entries from Mid-May, 1977

I want to tumble into bed with someone or wrestle and cuddle on the hot sand. I want to be kissed on the ear. I want to touch someone’s lips with my index finger. I want to get high and stay hard.

A 25-Year-Old’s Diary Entries from Early May, 1977

I spotted Brendan Gill, looking very aristocratic, as well as William Phillips of Partisan Review, and I spoke with Walter Abish and with Michael Andre, who’s a favorite of Warhol’s. Gene McCarthy came with Siv Cedering Fox.

A 25-Year-Old’s Diary Entries From Mid-April, 1977

When I go out in the streets of my neighborhood, it appears that among guys my age, there’s always a Sylvester Stallone lookalike contest in progress. Farrah Fawcett-Majors and the Fonz stare out at me from their posters in store windows.