Michael went out this morning to Costco. Before going out to forage, Michael typically suits up, pulling on gloves and tying a bandanna around the lower part of his face. “You packin’ heat, baby?” I asked before he left.

Some minutes later, the phone rang and I snatched it up, assuming it was him. I heard only a weird, echoing cacophony that sounded like a riot, with an amplified voice making repeated, unintelligible announcements, then the call dropped. A minute later it rang again, I snatched it up, and it was our friend Roger. “Hi,” he said. “I’m at Costco. Was wondering if I could pick anything up for you folks.”

Roger is, I estimate, in his seventies. Moustachio’d, gregarious, the proud father of teenage twins. I’m resolved to tell the truth here, so I have to admit my first thought was not, “What the hell is he doing out and about during the shut-down?” but “He has a car!” I told him Michael was on his way, then called Michael’s cellphone and told him to immediately call Roger. That way, instead of riding the bus home as he’d planned, Michael could get there in time to load Roger’s car with our groceries. Then Roger could drop groceries off here and Michael could ride his bicycle back.

We have access to the roof, now, which means I no longer run laps in the apartment. Instead, I do fifty brisk walking turns upstairs, for exercise, sun and fresh air. Unlike some of the rooftops around us, ours has not been set up for strolls or sunbathing. It’s just an expanse of flat black shingles, with three overturned, very dirty white plastic chairs, probably a relic of the young bros downstairs, and one flower pot with the remnants of a dead plant. The view is beautiful, as are most views in San Francisco, and I note it as I walk. Sutro Tower, Pacific Heights, Golden Gate, the bay behind rooftops, then the taller building next to us, then the back garden, Sutro Tower…

From this roof, we watched the new century rung in, December 31st, 1999-January 1st, 2000. Firecrackers popped, and car horns honked and people cheered and hooted out their windows and a million lights blinked in the hills as cameras flashed. The City awakened to the new century and opened its arms to all it would bring.

The booty Michael brought back today, courtesy of wonderful Roger and his car, included bananas, blueberries, tangerines, smoked salmon and other necessities.

There were also two bottles of Dr. Bronner’s Peppermint Soap, a favorite of mine since I was in college. I was happy to see the labels are still covered with the late Dr. Bronner’s philosophical ramblings. They always made good reading in the bathtub. “As taught by the moral ABC, the real Rabbi Hillel taught Jesus to unite all mankind free!!!”