I'll tell you a story about new years

when I was 19 one day I woke up and there was a hole in the knee of my jeans and when I got up to walk my hip began clicking with each step, a problem that would continue for years,

and I didn't know how long I had been asleep, which is to say, passed out, knocked out, I had a vague memory of the drugs I'd taken just before vanishing into the darkness but that was it. I spent weeks asking people what day it was

calling people up from a pay phone -- "Can you tell me what day it is?" And them, audibly upset, sad, worried: "John, you called and asked me this five minutes ago" "I know but please. I think it will help"

but it didn't help, nothing helped. my brain had taken a hard hit from something somehow. I would leave the apartment to look at the newspaper machine to see what the date was. I thought if I could keep that straight maybe I'd be OK.