Woke up in a proper bed for another morning, the second consecutive time in about seven years.  My back aches like hell!

  Friend Screenwriter Wayne the K had emailed me that he would visit with a flask of rye, on a rescue mission, early this afternoon.  He later indicated that he would arrive in another hour, and promptly at 3 p.m., as his wont, he was tapping at the door of room #304.  At the same instant, the phone rang.  Red Cross officials were waiting for me in the lobby.  I greeted Wayne, turned him over to Guy, and took the extremely deliberate elevator to the First Floor.

   A tall fellow, who might have come from the Islands, and Barbara, whom I'd met on Friday, were waiting for me.  They conveyed fresh information, and saw to it that our room tab was covered until next  Thursday morning.  They also wanted me to go within the next two hours to an address on Howard Street, south of Market, to register with another aid institution. They agreed that Guy could go in my stead.

   Guy agreed, and the next two hours were spent with Wayne, who is excited by his new screenplay, a third of which I had read before the fire interrupted.  We drank our rye and talked philosophically about the winding down of life.

  Eventually, Wayne hurried off to Trader Joe's, and a few minutes later, Son Jason arrived unexpectedly with a message from another Red Cross official, who had phoned him.  We talked until Guy returned with more blankets and a bag of dessert and energy bars. Guy took Jason off to buy further provisions.

   Later yet, William arrived, then  his lady, Angel.  We worked on the computers, watched television, and ate.  Guy had brought me, for a second time, a lovely roast beef and swiss sandwich.  By the time I finished it, my stomach told me that I better get back on the diet!

   Thus,  I've  caught up on the Blog, number-wise, now that I've  realized how to use wi-fi fully, but it took my a day to twig.  Guy and I are pretty well satisfied with this hotel on Polk Street, but we are worried about our goods and future.  Our apartment was not appreciably damaged by the fire, but there is some question whether or not the building as a whole will be condemned.

  We'll have to call Sergeant Ryan tomorrow, see if he has anything new to report.

  I'm feeling pretty well.  We have been taken care of by the Red Cross, I must say, and a few old friends coming by the hotel has helped.  We are here until Thursday, then.  By that time, the management company will have made arrangements to move us to another one of their apartments, either temporarily or for good.

  The shock, etc, has gotten my blood and adrenaline up.  That must be a basic reason I feel energetic.

  SIGN OF THE APOCALYPSE: On the downhill run of this Apocalyptic Year, there is fire at home and the whole East and Southeast of America burning up, sometimes literally -- Shuby . . . Shuby, shuby doo! 

  Macresarf1 would write no more this day.