The month on the road was busy enough that temptations were easily set aside. Warren visited museums and bookstores and shopped on his days off. He stopped in Paris, where Ariel was living again, and he and Julia faxed and telephoned almost daily. By the time they were reunited in Hawaii, he believed he could make the commitment and mean it.
JULIA MUELLER: In Hawaii, we were looking for rings. He was very nervous about wanting to buy an expensive ring but not being able to. He didn’t want to just get anything, and I really wanted a ring. He told me about some friend of his who had gotten married and he put a washer on her finger. I would have taken a washer.*
November 6, 1992
…Today we walked to the Honolulu Zoo. Wonderful birds. At a mall shop we saw a platinum wedding ring…
Warren and Julia returned to L.A. without a ring. Julia moved in and Warren went into the studio to complete work on his compilation album, Learning to Flinch, and to rehearse for his next tour.
November 17, 1992
…First sessions at Red Zone, laying everything out. Duncan seems perfectly organized. (read on)
November 18, 1992
…Blondie showed up at Jordan’s store, necessitating serious candor on my part. He said, “It’s okay—we all make fucked-up mistakes.” Album going well.
November 19, 1992
…Last day at Red Zone. Late, we learned that Duncan had figured the timing wrong all along, & we were way over maximum CD length. Last minute trimming—lost “Detox Mansion.” Home about 6:00.
November 27, 1992—Miami
…Julia and I had a nice walk around & went to sound check. Nervous about not rehearsing. Carl, with Connie & Scott, came around 8:00. We visited. Great show.
November 29, 1992
…Carl picked us up for Cuban lunch. Julia went back & Carl & I walked to a bar for coffee & talk. He’s going through a rough time—they’re separating.
January 8, 1993
…New Jon Kellerman book! Nice mention of me.
JONATHAN KELLERMAN: We had a series of three-or four-hour lunches. It was infrequent, but when we had them they were long. I saw Warren as a loner. I’m kind of a loner. Both of us need solitude to do our work, and I don’t socialize that much because I’m always writing books. But, every so often we’d get together, usually at Hugo’s, right around the corner from where Warren was living.
One thing that impressed me about Warren was how damned smart he was. I have to say, I haven’t found that necessarily the case in the music world. I don’t want to be any sort of intellectual snob, but I was professor of pediatrics in a med school and I’m used to dealing with highly bright people, and let’s just say Warren was unusually smart for anybody.
RICHARD LEWIS, comedian: When I would try to corner Warren about what was going on socially, he was so self effacing, and it would take him a paragraph and be excruciatingly hard for him to finally admit that he might squeeze a modicum of satisfaction out of what’s going on socially. Then he would start raining down on himself as to why this woman he was seeing was insane to even attempt to think that anything pleasurable could happen. We connected on that.
I was awestruck by his authenticity and loved his music, particularly the way his brain worked musically and lyrically. We both felt we got the respect of our peers. We both felt authentic, and we also both felt that we were having to struggle more than people who may be less funny or less musically talented because we hadn’t sold out.
Learning to Flinch had been released, and the songs for the next studio album were well under way. Life with Julia had its ups and downs, but Warren continued to be committed to making the relationship work. As long as they were at home, she was there when he needed her to be.
On short tours, she would fly out to meet him. However, he and Duncan were about to embark on a long tour in the RV (“The Lipcutter”) with only each other and their juicer for entertainment and company. Warren was nervous, but determined.
DUNCAN ALDRICH: I got heavily into vegetable juice, and I talked Warren into doing it with me, so I put on the rider that we had to have all this produce at every gig. We had a juicer in the motor home, so, after every gig, we’d down quarts of carrot juice.
May 2, 1993—New Haven
…Light crowd anticipated; a little down. Show pleasant…Called Julia…Discussion with Glo—“Can I be good that long?” “No.”
May 6, 1993—New York
…Lurked in The Lipcutter for hours. Sold out. Terrible heat. Horrible monitors. In spite of—or because of—everything, I felt I played quite well. Walked into the hospitality dungeon—pot smoke. Pointed at the roach & its proprietor & said “Take that and say goodnight.” Night of 1,000 irritations. Later, after I’d watched #2 again & calmed down some, Julia called. I really don’t want to start screwing around—but I’ll be running alongside the RV screaming soon.
By the time he got to Newark, a groupie insisted, and he lost his resolve. The lapse was perfunctory, however, and gave him a new determination to hold out until he saw Julia again.
July 6, 1993—Boulder
…Met Ariel at Stapleton. She looks terrific! She’s one smart girl. Healthy attitude, sensible plans. Fox Theater show was fine, I think. Ariel & I talk—I’m excited about Louisiana, she’s excited about her work in The Method. Ride to Aspen into the hotel.
ARIEL ZEVON: As far as the road with Dad, it was fun. He was in the RV, and Duncan was a lot of fun. Dad and Duncan had a good time together, at that point, anyway. They had phases they would go through. When I was with them, they were in a juice phase where they would take carrots and garlic and whatever on the road with a juicer, and they would make these crazy garlic-y juice mixes after every show.
July 7, 1993—Aspen
…Fax from Hunter Thompson: “…a peaceful drink before you go on so after we can stab some people.” Called him from club—pleasant chat. I told him I had a headache from the altitude that would send a lesser man sobbing to the emergency ward—he recommended oxygen, said he didn’t know what else would help—“Acid?” Back for a shower, feeling awful. Ariel’s been good company for a headachy Dad. Got to the trailer. Hunter arrived. He brought me a gift—a coyote or wolf attracting call that he says sounds like a “wounded rodent.” We brought them back to the dressing room, visited until show time—I asked Hunter to introduce me: “I’m here to make sure you’re all comfortable.” Ariel, Hunter & his friends sat just off stage in the shadows—I’d get the raised fist salute from Hunter. He disappeared after the break, then during “Werewolves of London” I saw him silhouetted in his bush hat & big coat offstage, flashing a 120,000 volt stun gun at me. What a great thing! He invited us out to his place tomorrow. Ariel & I back to our adjoining rooms.
ARIEL ZEVON: When I met Hunter Thompson, we were in the RV that Dad drove on the road with Duncan. Hunter came in and he had these big, giant, gold cable wires hanging around his neck that he gave Dad. He came in, drink in hand, and he was kind of crazy. I didn’t understand anything he was saying. I think that was the time he brought a cattle prod, too, and he was zapping around. He went onstage with Dad with the cattle prod.
DUNCAN ALDRICH: We met Hunter Thompson, went to his house a couple times. I mean, who gets to go to the home of and hang out with this legendary guy? Both times I went, his editor was there and they were finishing books. So there was this whole scene of passing around Hunter Thompson’s letters and everyone was reading. He tossed me a letter from Jimmy Buffett, and there were all these literary types there.
July 8, 1993—Aspen
…Took Ariel to the airport…Then we went to Owl Farm…Hanging out with Hunter in the kitchen, drinking good coffee, looking at a weird letter from Clinton, perusing his new manuscript. He showed me the Epilogue—fantastic. Later he brings out his Model 29 S&W, and a .454 with a scope. We go out back to prepare for an afternoon of shooting. He’s been doing artwork, shooting up huge photos; he sets up the classic Thompson for Sheriff poster & he and I shoot a happily tight gr
oup of six shots with these two guns, then he inscribes it to me. He sets up a propane tank with detonating targets & I blast it with a .12 gauge shotgun—he hugged me—“That’s shooting!” He blasts paint containers suspended over two of my posters, ties a paint thing to a mask-wearing Styrofoam head (“…Whorehead!” he mutters. “Shithead!”) What a ball! Friends are dropping by—Ed Bradley among them—Hunter’s making calls trying to get me booked into the Wheeler Opera House. It’s all on their video and mine. Hunter on his John Deere tractor with an inflatable fuck doll in the scope. Hunter gets a limited edition copy of “Screwjack” and insists I give a dramatic reading…We signed the “Learning to Flinch” posters, then said goodnight all around. Hunter walked us out and we’re on The Lipcutter. Said we could look at the day with “joy and confidence.”
Warren and Hunter S. Thompson on Hunter’s shooting range in Woody Creek, Colorado.
* I was the one who got the washer for a ring.—C.Z.
FIVE
MONKEY WASH, DONKEY RINSE
Hell is only half full
Room for you and me
Looking for a new fool
Who’s it gonna be?
It’s the Dance of Shiva
It’s the Debutantes ball
And everyone will be there
Who’s anyone at all
Monkey wash donkey rinse
Going to a party in the center of the earth
Monkey wash donkey rinse
Honey, don’t you want to go?
Warren often referred to himself as a “glorified folk singer,” but he also considered himself an entertainer in the broadest sense of the word. He had always fancied that he had a talent for acting and when the occasional opportunity was offered, even when it was to play himself, as on an episode of The Larry Sanders Show in the summer of 1993, he was delighted.
July 30, 1993—Garry Shandling Show
…Water off, had to shower at the Beverly Garland Hotel. Julia waiting at the studio. Talking to Carl on the mobile, Garry walks into my dressing room: “Get off the phone.” Everyone’s nice, Paul Simon, the producer & the director is Ken First “Route 66”! Julia looking lovely. I made a couple of dialogue suggestions in my scene which were appreciated. It was very exciting working with Rip Torn! I think I was pretty good. “Very natural,” Rip said. Monitor trouble for the song, during which Garry stayed on the set—I said, “You’re staying through all eight or nine months of the song?” “I love you!” He’s funny, very funny. The guy who plays his foil said, “We like the cachet you bring to the show.” I said, “Cachet—isn’t that like panache, but sitting down?”
CARL HIAASEN: We’d call each other; we’d talk about whatever project I was in the middle of, whatever project he was in the middle of…I’d try to see him whenever I was in L.A. for a book signing. You know, he’d look at Jorge’s marriage, or mine, and say, “I couldn’t do that.” I think he could have, but he was also talking about the commitment. This is who you’re with and this is who you love and this is what you do for people you love. I could count on one hand the number of women he was serious about. Then, all of a sudden, it would be over. And it was always the same, “Oh, she wants to have kids.”
JULIA MUELLER: He wanted to make love without a condom, and that was his proof that he was only going to be with me from now on. He meant that.
September 15, 1993
…Wonderful letter from Ariel! She sounds so happy—got the lead in “Measure for Measure,” first play of the semester at Marlboro College.
ARIEL ZEVON: Once I went to Marlboro, our relationship went into a new phase. He felt like all of a sudden I was old enough to have discussions and intellectual conversations with. He was excited by that world of academia that he had never been a part of. He was so well read and informed on so many subjects and he was excited that he could talk to me about that stuff now.
October 15, 1993—L.A. to Marlboro College, Vermont
…Up for the Vermont Odyssey. Julia took me to the airport…Delayed arrival…Long line at Hertz…encountered a detour as soon as I got out of Logan…Listening to Charlton Heston reading Schopenhauer. No chance of eating. Blundering through Brattleboro looking for Marlboro. At an Inn: “Looking for who? Oh, she’s wonderful—but the play must be over by now.” Found the college (with some help), pulled up to the theater—couldn’t turn the lights off—ran in. Ariel was standing in the theater talking to people. She was surprised. There, at last, we were. She introduced me to friends, showed me around. She looked beautiful. Drove slowly back—a friendly trooper pulled me over—concerned. Uneventful flight home. Julia waiting at the gate.
ARIEL ZEVON: I was primarily studying sociology and that’s the stuff we connected on. Not the theater. I was studying postmodern social urbanization, or these contemporary philosophies, and that’s what he liked to talk about. As for the acting, yes, he was supportive in that way where he did his grumbling about acting as a profession…He was an artist, so he understood that side of it. I don’t remember him ever encouraging me. He would say, “You look great, Princess.”
November 5, 1993—Bridge School Benefit Concert
…Taken to Shoreline Auditorium. Sound check. Bonnie [Raitt] arrived, met Michael O’Keefe (& told him how much I loved his Robert McCammon audio tape, a great reading). Saw Craig Doerge—big reunion—he introduced me to Paul Simon. Sammy Hagar and Eddie Van Halen arrived and we hung out a lot. Eddie & I are great pals. Sammy said something funny. We were in the dressing room and he said, “Close the door. I’ve got to change my pants.” I said I was leaving. He said, “That’s okay. Just close the door—but you might have to sleep with the lights on…” Jordan & Jodi arrived (I’d just met Herbie Hancock, too. “We were almost related!” I explained.) Finally, Neil arrived and asked if I was doing “Splendid Isolation.” We were playing it in his dressing room when they came to get me. I was saying, “They’re good chords to jam to,” & Neil said, “If we’d been in a band together, we’d have played it for 45 minutes.” The guitar stuff was okay—I had fun when Neil came out—the piano stuff, less good, I thought (bad sound & I got a little lost in the old tunes, twice). Saw Bob Weir later. I’d taken comfort from tour graffiti in the toilet which said, “Sleep When I’m Dead”—Bon Jovi perhaps, but it still helped my confidence. All in all it was a wonderful experience. Ran into Paul Simon again at the airport—he was very nice.
November 9, 1993—Captain Kirk Day
…Today I got my marching orders from Capt. Kirk.* Went to Universal for a meeting with 3 execs. Wm. Shatner on speaker phone. He is James T. Kirk, make no mistake about it, and he’s completely in charge of and involved in the project. After “Bill” told me what he wanted the song to convey, I recited lyrics to “Real or Not”—“Dead on,” he said. And, “Wonderful,” to the verse. Somehow I remained composed through the lengthy conversation the conclusion of which was him commending the executives for hiring me. I called Duncan and offered him $1,000, which he said he thought was too much, to his credit. Then, I called Carl. I have a reservation after Thanksgiving.
November 10, 1993
…Message from Eddie Van Halen. Called him from my car. Lunch alone at Hugo’s. Richard Lewis sat with me for awhile. He showed me psoriasis outbreak on the bridge of his nose. He said he told the director he had lunch with that the director’s movie “was so riveting my face broke out.” Richard raved about “Finishing Touches.” At the office, Neil & Pegi sent roses, big bundle of stuff from “TekWar.” New recording contract means $25,000 “commitment” money.*
November 26, 1993—Florida
…drove past Key Largo to Carl’s. We watched the sunset at a nice saloon; met a couple of fishing guides, real characters…
CARL HIAASEN: He was visiting me, and he had to fill in for Paul Shaffer on Letterman like two days later. They gave him the call, and said, “Here’s some of the songs we want to do.” He said to me, “Are there any music stores? I need some sheet music.” We got some sheet music, and he sat
down like I would sit down and write out a grocery list, and he charted, for the whole band, these two songs he was going to do. Every single part—the horns, the guitar parts, the keyboard part—everything. Wrote it in nothing flat and faxed it up to Shaffer’s office. To him it was shorthand. It was all in his head. I said to my wife, “How many rock musicians could do that?” I was always in awe of that, but if I dared to say anything, he’d look at me like…“what?”
November 27, 1993
…Went to Robbie’s Pier—bought pilchard to feed to the tarpon that wait around the end of the pier like the homeless. You have to fight off the “miserable, rat-feathered” pelicans—one of which slashed my finger—bled like a gutted hog. We did some shopping—very indulgent of Carl…We went to see “Big Dick & the 7 Foot Seminole” who does a kind of Don Rickles act.
Carl Hiaasen and Warren in Florida.
November 28, 1993
…The Everglades quiet, beautiful, thrilling…I caught four snooks…
CARL HIAASEN: When he’d come to the Keys, we’d hang out with my friends who are fishing guides, and Warren loved to hear the vernacular. He heard me saying one time, and this is going to sound chauvinistic, but in reference to a bad date that one of us had, I said, “God, that was a real hog snapper,” which is a kind of fish…an unattractive kind of fish, if I may say so. Warren got that studious look, and he sat up and said, “Explain that to me?” We found a stuffed hog snapper and I showed it to him. He said, “Oh my God, you’re right! That’s horrible.” I said, “Well, now you understand…” He goes, “I understand all too well…That’s my social life you’re talking about right there.”
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