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By Root 1252 0

thinking. But the musicians know. When they got off the bandstand, Frank came up and started apologizing to Art and Art wouldn't even listen to him. He just turned him off. Like, if a musician doesn't blow good, he doesn't want them apologizing anyway. But when things are movin' right, behind him, and then he blows! Actually, he sets the beat, he's so solid himself. (He used to test Diane to see if she really was hearing. And he told me once that he found out that she didn't know what was happening, that she was a phony. And then he'd pull it on Christine. He did it to me a few times, but I was listening and I knew what was happening. Art and Christine were living downstairs, and he got a gig at the Blue-something-orother. It was a trio, and he came off the stand, and he said, "Good drummer." I looked at him. Christine said, "Yeah, he really swings." And I said, "He rushed!" Art smiled at me. Christine got furious because I was right. He was rushing. But that's Art's testing.)

I guess the only thing that I know of that has really been important to Art in his life is dope. I think dope slows him down. See, I'm hyperkinetic, and so's Art, I think. Sometimes I travel at a fast pace inside myself; the exterior doesn't reveal it. I think Art is that way, too. One time after we'd scored we were sitting there, and I was moving my hand, and he says, "You know, you're keeping time." I was keeping a beat, as fast as I could go, and didn't even know I was doing it. He says, "I'm that way, too." He needs something to calm him down. And, another thing: when you're on drugs, I've heard this stated many times, you don't give a shit what the public thinks out there. You just shut 'em out and do what you want to do. You can't feel criticism, looks.

Art's life-style is complaining and bitching. That's part of his personality. People that know him, they just hear it and forget it. Some people want to do something to correct some of these things that are ailing him and they extend whatever services-like, if he doesn't feel good; or, "If I only had a drink or a fix." Some people go out of their way, like I did. And I never got anything back for what I did. I can't explain it. I was lonely, and Art was company, and when he's happy he's a pleasure. When Art's happy, he's funny. When he's happy, he's like a little kid with new toys.

Listen, when Art gives a little bit of his mind, his thoughts, or even spits out some of his hate-I don't know how to say this-when he shows you a part of himself, no matter what part it is, that's an extension of his friendship because Art doesn't say much to anybody. But if he even gives you some of his humor, his laugh, it's such a gas.

Oh, Art's always polite to his fans. With his square fans, always. But with the dopefiends, the really down-and-out junkies, to them he's. a star; they make him a star. And he's even more gracious to them because he knows that. They need his fame, and he gives them some of it when he talks to them, and he knows that, too. There are some people who love him, but they're very destructive. I feel like I was one of them at one time. They'll give him dope for nothing, even when he's trying to stay cool. And he has tried. But he can't say no to them. He doesn't want to offend them and he's not strong enough to resist. People'll come up and just give it to him for nothing. To buy his friendship. But that doesn't buy Art's friendship. That's what they never find out.

Art used to think I was insane. He'd say, "There's that crazy girl." Because I'd always go see him. He was worth traveling to see, forty miles, whatever. To me Art is beautiful. I'm not in love with him. I love him.

I WOUND up in the first cell wth my old boosting partner, Rudy. He got busted about the same time I did. We were made tank trustees.

One day I was wandering around, walking up and down the freeway going "Woe is me" and thinking about how groovy it would be to get loaded, when I happened to look out to the front of the tank. When a newcomer comes in, he carries his little donut, his filthy mattress, and blanket