Straight Life - Art Pepper [246]
As for Laurie, she was working in the school. She was completely overshadowed by Art. I had the impression that she had to confer about her relationship with Art with a lot of people because it was so difficult. It was very obvious that this was a great love affair, and Art quickly became obsessed by it.
I have a bad attitude about straight women. You know, I assume they can't read and write, that there's no other thought in their minds than this man they're in love with. I don't know how I can be so patronizing because as soon as I fall in love with a woman, I can think of nothing else but that woman. In love is in love.
I know that Art thought Laurie was the most wonderful thing in the world. He just thought she was so defenseless. Well, she's so small physically. She's the kind of person, she opens doors for herself. Wherever she goes, I'm sure people like her and love her and want to help her. And I know that's the way Art felt about her. He idolized her. He thought she was the most wonderful lover he'd ever had. Not only did she afford him a great deal of tenderness and love, but she was one of those people that are extremely lovable.
And I have a theory about men. Particularly macho men. And that is that they absolutely must have a woman because they have no one to be a baby around. You can't keep that act up twenty-four hours a day. Art needed to have a ma. In love, you can recapture that moment of infancy. That's what everyone wants back. That's what Art wanted.
I would describe Art as egotistical. He makes great demands on himself. He doesn't recognize the importance of cooperative effort, for instance, and, well, one night, long after Synanon, I was talking to him about AA. He came over to my house. He was in great stress: he would never have come otherwise. And I told him that the only thing that would help him would be belief in a higher power. It didn't have to be some sentimental figure out of the Presbyterian or the Methodist or the Catholic church. It could just be a higher power. After all, you know, somebody's keeping it all going. He said, "No. I'm it." That's what he said. Well, that's a lot to take on yourself, to be it. I believe people are fractional realities of God. But that's all people. Not one person. So he feels responsible for everything. And, of course, he has that naive belief in substances, which is the paradox of it all. "I will not believe in God, but I will believe in heroin or cocaine" or whatever it is. That's a great handicap, too. He's truly astounded me. I don't understand how he became a musician. How did he acquire the skills? Obviously, God and Art are playing when they play, and it's too bad that Art can't realize it. He'd be able to do so much more if he didn't have to feel this tremendous responsibility.
THEY called them glut raids. I'd been in Synanon for about eight months. I was living in the Clump in an apartment with three bedrooms. I shared one of them with another guy. It was about 2 A.M. We were sleeping. All of a sudden somebody just grabs the door, flings it open, smashing it against the wall; at the same moment the lights go on, and here are two or three of these elders charging into the room screaming, "Get up! Get out of there! Don't touch anything! Get in the other room!"
They went through our closets, opened our dressers, took everything and threw it on the floor. Then they called us in. "Where'd you get this? How many of these you got?" Razors, underwear, socks, record albums, books, pictures. They looked through the mattresses and pillows just like narcs. "What's that? Only old-timers are supposed to have those!" These were guys I worked with! Alan Connors-I'd laughed with him about Synanon policies, but here he was caught up in this thing. Playacting. And here was