I'll Sleep When I'm Dead

by Crystal Zevon

  August 2, 1985—San Francisco with Jordan…

  Dined at Kundar, good Indian. When the food started coming, Jordan said I looked happier than I had on the whole vacation. Jordan showed me a very fine S.F. lyric he’d written—“Stockton Street.” Had great long talk about sobriety, Ariel, music, videos, etc. Jordan’s jaw’s shadowy/unshaven and hair unstuck & he looks very mature.

  Warren’s daily diary entries detail his AA meetings, the help and support he received from sober friends, his sober relationship with Eve Babitz, and his efforts to establish himself in the lives of his children. It wasn’t an easy or comfortable time, but it was a beginning.

  August 24, 1985…

  Met Ariel at Tiny Naylor’s at 11:00. Tried to call my father for a visit at Crystal’s suggestion—not home. We went to a Pee Wee Herman movie…Went to Eve’s to borrow a sheet & blanket and to Chalet Gourmet for steak. Ariel said her stomach hurt & cried during dinner. I hoped I’d made more food than she wanted & she wanted to leave the table, but it was very sad…we didn’t know what to say to each other all day, but after dinner she seemed more comfortable & we got along nicely. She drew some lovely rabbits for me. I am 38½ as of Saturday.

  August 27, 1985

  No smoking at all…Reading “Gravity’s Rainbow” in measured doses. Talked to Crystal & handled needling…AA, good meeting.

  August 28, 1985…

  Sick as a dog, vomiting, fever. Crystal called to tell me Ariel needed growth on her thigh removed immediately—surgery in the morning.

  August 29, 1985…

  Slept very poorly. Up at 6, showered, long drive to Valley Hospital. Had stuffed hippo. Ariel being extremely brave.

  September 7, 1985…

  Andy woke me with the news that Stevie Nicks is putting “Reconsider Me” on her record.

  ANDY SLATER: However mad you could be with Warren, when he played you a song, there was just no way to stay mad at the guy. He played me “Reconsider Me,” and the song haunted me for years. I was so moved by “Reconsider Me” that I was obsessed about getting Warren a deal—based on that song. When I couldn’t get anybody interested, I wanted to get somebody to cover that song because it just struck a chord in me that has not been rung too many times since. I played the cassette for Jimmy Iovine, who was producing Stevie Nicks. I said, “Stevie’s got to cut this.”

  Jimmy had the same reaction I had. And, literally, he had Stevie cut it. Chrissie Hynde cut it. Henley sang on it, and I had Fiona Apple sing it. None of those were released until there was a Stevie Nicks boxed set and I put it on a boxed set just so that somebody would have put that song out…

  SIX

  DETOX MANSION

  Well, I’m gone to Detox Mansion

  Way down on Last Breath Farm

  I’ve been rakin’ leaves with Liza

  Me and Liz clean up the yard

  October 5, 1985…

  12:30 AA meeting. Andy depressed over Debra Winger. I told him about the DJ at the hospital in Minnesota—“I don’t know if I love him sober—I’ve never seen him sober.”

  October 6, 1985…

  Marilyn [Tule] made dinner—chicken, broccoli, salad with mint from her garden, brown rice with good sauce. So nice having family dinner on Sunday. The big dogs loll obediently with their heads resting on the threshold, watching from the patio. Jordan is such an amazing son, I love him so much.

  February 4, 1986…

  Eve left a message that “there’s nothing left between us” and asked me to drop her stuff off. I’m not really sad—it was invevitable. It seems inevitable that I’ll get high, too. In all conscience I don’t see how I can make an album without smoking pot. Music just seems like business to me now—despite the rewards of thinking of needed sober lines.

  February 7, 1986…

  Andy says I’m down to $4,000…We talked about looking for “Chinese Brides.” Talked about dope which he, understandably, doesn’t want me on, but which I keep hearing about from him in conjunction with his wild parties…I became very agitated—trying unsuccessfully to take the plunge—the vodka in the bottle smelled revolting…he was supposed to call and never did…the night wore on…reached him at home at 2:00—he was involved in some “emotional” scene—I told him I was really going nuts at 8:30! I feel okay now but I think I’ve had enough of this personal involvement with Andy.

  February 10, 1986…

  Two Teutonic polyester bums from the bank came for a signature on the new apt. lease. Nice letter from Crystal—invitation to spend Ariel’s spring vacation in Paris.* Went to the office and talked to Merle Ginsberg of Rolling Stone. Told her “I tried to stay away long enough to make a come back when I came back.” Said I was writing for others because I have plenty of songs for myself about “sex, terrorism and voodoo” and that I had a bee-pollen shake on the way to the gym every day and was so alert “I can hear what people are thinking—and I don’t want to know.” Andy said I’d like her, and I did…

  MERLE GINSBERG: I was an editor and writer for Rolling Stone. Andy Slater called me up and said, “Warren Zevon’s having a comeback. He’s gone through rehab and he’s got this great new album and he’s such a genius…” I didn’t know that much about Warren Zevon, so I bought all his records and as I listened I realized this was really fascinating. Then, I went into the Rolling Stone archives and read all the pieces on him.

  When I read the Rolling Stone cover, I was completely fascinated because I was young enough to think that drama was interesting. I’d interviewed a lot of rock stars and some actors. Nobody intimidated me much, but I was very intimidated by Warren. He spoke very slowly and quietly. His voice went right through me—this gravelly, masculine voice. We talked for hours. I was single and I found him a really compelling, smart, dark person, which is the kind of guy I was always attracted to.

  At the end of the conversation, he said, “When you’re in L.A. we should get together. I’d like to meet you.” I said, “Well, I’ll be in L.A. in two weeks for the Grammys.”

  February 11, 1986…

  Andy said Marty is definitely using “Werewolves of London” in “The Color of Money” and told the Geffen people so.

  February 12, 1986…

  Jackson told me he’d moved—sounds pretty upscale. I asked, “Are you embarrassed?” He said he was—I said “Good.”

  ANDY SLATER: A bunch of things coincided with him being sober. Ultimately, he wound up getting a record deal after the following things happened: he got sober. Coincidentally, or not so coincidentally as I have found to be the case with these things, “Werewolves of London” was used by Scorsese in The Color of Money in a pivotal scene with Tom Cruise. And, I was able to convince my friend Jeff Ayeroff, who was starting Virgin Records with Jordan Harris, to sign Warren as one of their first artists based on the demo of “Reconsider Me” and the activity with the movie.

  MERLE GINSBERG: I show up at the Sunset Marquis to cover the Grammys for Rolling Stone. I wondered how Warren would call me. I hadn’t told Andy where I was staying, but there was a note at the front desk from Warren Zevon with his phone number. I was new enough to celebrity journalism that I was overwhelmed that this rock star would call me. Part of me was thinking, what a great story to tell everybody at home. I’m unpacking, thinking, “How am I going to call this guy? I’m afraid to even talk to him.”

  It’s late and I have jet lag and the phone rings and it’s him. “Merle, it’s Warren. Why don’t we go have a little dinner?” I said, “Warren, I can’t. I’m so jet lagged.” He said, “I really think we should go have a little dinner.” I didn’t know how to be with somebody who didn’t drink. I thought the first, second, or third date the thing to do was drink a lot of wine. Or even smoke pot, because I was so nervous. But, Andy had said I couldn’t do that around him, so I was freaked.

  We agreed to meet the following night, and he comes over to the Sunset Marquis, laughingly telling me stories about how he’s not allowed in there because he’d been thrown out for dr
unken brawls, and he thought that was so funny. I thought it was funny because it was the stuff of rock and roll legends. I was impressed. He said, “Where do you want to go to dinner?” This was only my second time in L.A., so I didn’t know. He said, “Let’s go up to my house for a minute.”

  I definitely did not think this guy was going to try to seduce me. He was quiet and shy. So, we go to his apartment on Horne Avenue, and I’m thinking all rock stars live in fancy houses and this is a one-bedroom apartment off Sunset. He called it Cat Piss Manor because the people who had moved out had a cat, and he could never get the smell out. I got the feeling that he kind of liked that it smelled like cat piss. There was something tawdry about it that he liked. It was all gray. It had rented furniture, and it was like a hotel room, which is what he said he liked. He said he liked his décor to be “early hotel room.”

  Of course, I thought he was unbelievably quirky and glamorous. He was nervous, and I was dying to drink because I was so nervous. He said, “Would you like some wine?” I said, “No, I’m not going to drink in front of you.” He’d talked all about his recovery in our interview for hours, but now he said, “It’s fine if you drink wine. I have no problem with that.”

  I was drinking wine, and we were talking about books and art. I was very impressed that he knew so much about literature and art and classical music. So, he says, “Do you want to smoke some pot?” I go, “Well, yeah, but you can’t do that.” He said, “Yeah, I can. I’m seeing a doctor who’s helping me deal with substance abuse, and he thinks it’s a good thing for me.” That didn’t sound right to me, but we started smoking pot.

  His apartment was small—kitchen, bedroom, living room, and bathroom. He starts nipping off to the bathroom for long periods of time. I’m so self-conscious that I’m just thinking about me, but then I realized—wait a minute, he’s gone for too long…Is this guy shooting up, or what the hell is going on? But, by the time it occurred to me to check it out, I was tipsy. I find him lying on the bed and he was pretty fucked up. I’m thinking, “Is this how he gets from smoking pot?”

  We start kissing and things are going through my mind: I’m kissing a rock star, won’t everybody be impressed, and this guy is fucked up and has a history with drug and alcohol abuse. He’s slurring his words, and I’d been around people who did drugs and drank, but nobody I knew ever got obviously fucked up. I started to get scared. The next thing I know, I lean over Warren’s side of the bed and there’s this giant empty vodka bottle. I mean, we’re talking about a triple-sized vodka bottle. No wonder he’s really fucked up.

  Then I realized I was responsible for this behavior because he was nervous. I didn’t know what to do. I asked if I should take him to the hospital. I didn’t drive, so I was wondering how the hell we were going to get there, but he insisted, “No, no. I’m fine.” Eventually, we both fell asleep.

  Februrary 21, 1986…

  Merle called. I invited her over. We were sipping wine (and I was cadging vodka), things were going nicely, then I rolled us a joint, which made me wildly paranoid. She started undressing. The last thing I remember was not being able to perform…

  MERLE GINSBERG: I woke up at six A.M. and he was so passed out. I had never seen a person drink this much or behave like this. I got up, wrote him a note, and left. I walked to the Sunset Marquis. Talk about the walk of shame. Six A.M. in some black dress and heels, looking haggard and horrible in the bright sun.

  I get to the hotel room and sleep. When I wake up, I call Andy and I go, “Andy, Warren got really fucked up.” He goes, “What did you do? How could you let that happen?” I said, “I didn’t realize he was drinking, and I don’t know what to do.” Andy went over there and called me later. He said he’d have to take him and have his stomach pumped. I felt like it was all my fault. I didn’t know if he was going to die. Having read those Rolling Stone articles, I realized how far this guy had gone.

  February 22, 1986…

  I came to Saturday night—vaguely remember talking to Andy—terrible headache. Took 3 darvocettes & went back to sleep. Now it’s morning. I’m all right, a little shaky. This rash is very annoying. Andy tells me Merle was here until 5:00.

  MERLE GINSBERG: Two days later, I’m sitting by the pool at the Sunset Marquis. There are all these rock stars sitting out there—Cindy Lauper and Huey Lewis, and Springsteen was even staying in a bungalow—and a giant arrangement of flowers goes by and I think, oh, one of these Grammy nominees is getting a huge amount of flowers. I finally go to my room, and the flowers are in my room. Of course, they were from Warren. The note says, “When I meet you again, it will be like it’s the first time. If you want to. I’m so, so sorry.”

  It was so poetic that, of course, I was gone. I call him and say thank you, and now I’m starting to get it. There’s a lot of bravado in this guy when he’s drunk. When he’s sober, he’s very quiet and shy. And on the phone, he was quiet and upset and apologetic. “I’m so sorry. I was nervous. I really like you. It was the first drink I’ve had in months. I feel awful to have subjected you to that. I hope we can go out again.” So, we agreed to go out again.

  There was this feeling of “Oh, my God, we’re falling in love.” But, I also remember going to breakfast at Musso & Frank’s and Warren leaving for long periods of time, but not smelling like alcohol or acting drunk, but getting kind of mean. It dawned on me that this guy could be completely tanked and I would not know it. He kept assuring me, “I’m fine. I’m going to get sober. I want to be with you.”

  February 24, 1989…

  I had to meet Merle. Packed 2½ pints of vodka in my toiletry bag and probably ate some halcyon, so I was in deep shit with Merle…

  MERLE GINSBERG: One night he came over to hang out with me at the Sunset Marquis. I thought he was sober, and he went in the bathroom to get undressed, and the next thing I heard this crash. He’d crashed through the glass shower door and there was an empty vodka bottle on the floor. I kept calling Andy, and it was all drama. But, I was convinced that I was madly in love, that I was going to save this guy, and that we HAD to be together and my whole life was going to change. That it did.

  February 25, 1986…

  Woke up with her mad…did give her a ride to Wilshire & La Brea to pick up her Grammy pass…ran into Jon Landau at the Marquis. Took Merle to Musso’s for breakfast (where I snuck to the bar for a triple vodka which I lied about doing.)…she’s supposed to call me late from some soiree at Spago’s—provided I haven’t been drinking. Talked to Jordan who told Marilyn I sounded like I was drinking—he’s truant again—I’ll have that to deal with.

  JORDAN ZEVON: Nobody with a decent circle of friends could have gotten away with what my dad got away with. But he did get away with it because he was him. He was famous and successful and talented, and it’s hard to tell somebody like that, “You can’t do this.”

  One time when he said he’d stopped drinking, I’d gone to visit him at the Sunset Marquis. I went to the bathroom. For some reason, I looked underneath the sink and there were, like, five vodka bottles. I walked in the room with one in my hand and busted him on it. It was infuriating for him. But at the same time, that must have been devastating. I think that set this precedent that he was going to try to seclude Ariel and me from as much of his oddities and eccentricities as he could because it’s just not…it’s embarrassing.

  MERLE GINSBERG: I was starting to figure it all out when I was leaving to go back to New York. He insisted he was going to drive me to the airport. I didn’t know enough about alcoholism to understand that once you’re off the wagon, you’re off. He kept saying, “I’m fine, I’m fine. It was just a little slip.”

  He goes to his apartment, and I’m staring at my watch and the plane is at three. He was supposed to pick me up at one-thirty and it’s two. I go to the front desk and there’s Warren, drunk out of his mind, wandering around the pool saying that Jon Landau had tried to help him. The people in the hotel are nervous. I said, “Warren, go lie down in my room and I’m g
oing to take a cab.” He said, “You’re my girl and I’m driving you to the airport.” I knew this was a huge mistake, but he’s insisting, “What kind of man would I be if I didn’t drive you to the airport?” He’s falling all over the place, trying to get my luggage. The people from the hotel are helping. We get in the car, and the fact that neither of us died is pretty much a miracle.

  He was driving like a lunatic on the freeway. Even though I couldn’t drive, I grabbed the wheel a few times. We get to the airport and he’s crying, not because we nearly died, but because I’m leaving: “Come back. We’ve got to be together.” I called him that night and he was sober. He said, “I nearly killed both of us. I’m so sorry. I was completely insane. I have to get sober. I have to go in the Program. I’m going to make it work.”

  Over the next few months, we would talk every night. There were nights when he’d sing to me and be crazy and make up songs about me, and I’d think, “How adorable.” Then, there were nights he’d be incredibly shy and quiet. I started to realize when he was full of bravado and singing and funny, he was drunk. But, it was very hard for me to tell the difference. I was such a mess and I started going to Al-Anon.

  Meantime, I was trying to get Jann Wenner to run my interview in Rolling Stone, the story of Warren’s recovery, but what I hadn’t known at the time was that Warren didn’t have a record deal. They wanted to use the interview to help get him a label. I said to Jann, “Warren’s going to have this amazing comeback. He’s sober.” Jann was like, “You’re so full of shit. He’s not sober. I’ve known him for years and it ain’t happening. We are not running that bullshit.” The interview never ran.