It was 5:23pm. We were at Haight-Ashbury admiring the now commercialized former hub of the counter culture. I wanted to visit Whole Foods.
At Stanyan Street, I gazed into the eastern periphery of Golden Gate Park and felt a thousand eyes stare back at me amongst the darkness of the trees. Loitering about were young people, old people; some more weathered in appearance than others, some with canine companions. They congregated here with visions of 1969. Of free love and cheap drugs and being in the presence of their apostle Garcia, even though he - and the gospel he preached - were long dead.
Death changes everything.
"LSD. I can get you some LSD." a 20-something male with a yellow lab uttered to my companion and I.
I walked into Whole Foods.