Howard, a 22-year-old friend, and I were in the living room. He was putting on his coat and we were discussing how poets, artists, and musicians capture more than anyone else the feeling of the age in which they live. My mother and father were in the bedroom and kept yelling to me that it was late and to go to bed because I ahd a cold and I should go to bed early. I was very angry with them. I told them that what time I went to bed was my business and I would go to bed when I felt like it.