I used to go over his house a lot. And that’s where I think Dick Slade was kind of living there in the spring of ’74, another Williams-at-Home guy. I’d hang out with Dick and talk and we’d talk with Bob. He was pushing me all the time. “Well O.K., now you’re back here, what are you going to do?” I said, “I don’t know, I’m just going to finish up here.” He said, “Yeah, but what are you going to do?” And I was still, you know, I was still an anarchist back then. “Do? What do you mean ‘do’? You live, you don’t do. You get up every day, that’s all you do.” And he was keeping pushing me saying, “You need to take on a role, assume some responsibility. You have this opportunity–you can’t just walk away and ignore this.”

But he was much worse in the spring of ’74 than he had even been a year earlier. There was a real deterioration. I had a hard time with that. I could kind of see probably where it was headed and I didn’t want to acknowledge that’s where it was headed.