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By Root 1289 0

and have confidence in that. But now I’m thinking that there’s a lot of people that won’t really … I mean, if I was to quit Taxi which I’m not gonna do—See, I’m not doing what the producers in this business like. They like skits and mindless comedy and I don’t do that. The thing is, I’ve always wanted to have my own show. And for years now no one will give me one. They won’t give me my own regular series. And I know that that’s what I would do best. George told me the other day that two cable companies don’t want to give Andy Kaufman a show, because Andy Kaufman performs for himself and not for the public. And that really bummed me out … But if everybody in the business thinks that way, then I can’t—I mean, if they’re all stupid, I’m the one that suffers. You know, also—because when I went up onstage at the Improv in California, I didn’t get that big of an applause. And also, Friday night at Taxi, I didn’t get that big of an applause when I came out onstage, like I usually do. That makes me think, like George says, that because of all the really weird stuff that I do, I’m losing a lot of fans—fans that really like me because of Latka and stuff like that. But if I kept doing Latka all the time, I wouldn’t be true to my art, you know? And I choose to be an artist rather than catering to the masses. But, still, I don’t want to be losing my career, you know? Ever since he told me that I’ve been thinking, Oh, I’m a has-been. It’s in my mind …

“The thing is I don’t perform for the mass public! But as long as there’s a group of people out there that understands what I’m doing, I’m performing for them. Of course, I perform for myself, too—all good artists do. But it’s not like I’m the only one that understands what I’m doing…. I just hope that I’m not on the downslide…. You know how when someone that you know dies and you know they’re gonna die a week before they die? So that when they die, it’s not really a shock to you—but everyone else is crying and stuff? Well, I think they should have realized that the person was gonna die! They shouldn’t have been so shocked and be crying at that point. Now, maybe it hasn’t happened to my career yet. But, just in case it does, I’m doing it now, I’m realizing there’s something wrong. So that if it does happen, I won’t feel it as hard…. Anyway, it could just be a phase…. It might be all in my head, I don’t know…. Did I tell you about the prostitute that I had …”

Suddenly, there in the valley of lengthening apathy, Rolling Stone expressed interest in doing a major profile, maybe a cover story—maybe even Andy and Clifton together on the cover!—because maybe this destitution thing had some emotional validity and maybe he was nuts and what could be more entertaining than chronicling a man bent on destroying himself in public? Writer David Hirshey was dispatched to execute the sleuthing, which began during the first few days of 1981 in New York. It was nearly two A.M. when they arrived at the Improv (in a horse-drawn carriage) and the place was thinning out and Andy took the stage and started hopping and then—“A hunnn-dred bottles of beer on the wall, a hunnn-dred bottles of beer …” And Hirshey would report that the reception was understandably anguished at first and so Andy began performing each numeral in a different voice and persona, proceeding slowly at times, quickly at other times, and the people at the tables, who were initially annoyed, now became entranced, then fervid, then frenzied, and then—at fourteen bottles of beer—he walked offstage. At which point, the six remaining people screamed in agony and begged him to finish, which he did and was instantly flushed with euphoria. “That was magical,” he said. “‘A Hundred Bottles of Beer’ has always been a fantasy of mine…. There are such psychological implications to that song, such great things you can do. Once they’re hooked, they won’t let you stop. Can you imagine?”

On an ensuing night they returned to the Improv, where he wrestled—after they had first dined on Japanese food, which Andy did not consume until he had bowed his head in