Straight Life - Art Pepper [255]
At five thirty, we'd have supper. Nikki would come in with some Hamburger Helper or a salad. We had to eat at that particular time, and if we weren't on time, she'd flip out. We'd eat in the little living room in front of the TV, and then the dishes were put in the sink for Bob to wash. Sometimes I did it. After dinner, it was time for me to do the daily report. Bob usually went back to the bakery to fill last minute orders or experiment with new recipes.
At first the daily report took me two or three hours; it was very complicated. I used an adding machine and made everything jibe. I'd enter all this into the books and put all the slips into the files. I wrote to Laurie, telling her how well I was doing and asking her to join me. She called Bob and Nikki to make sure. Then she left Synanon and got a little apartment nearby in Venice. She got a job at the bakery.
I was happy being in something legitimate. Bob told me I'd get a percentage of the business. I was only getting my room and food and ten dollars a week, but it seemed as if I'd have a good future, financially, and not have to play in clubs anymore.
Bob's house was a visiting place for people who'd left Synanon. This drummer, Lew Malin, came down, and he had a thing going with a musical office; they booked bands for par ties. He had a lot of say-so as to who did the gigs, and he said that if I would learn the Jewish tunes for the weddings and bar mitzvahs, he could get me some gigs. He loaned me some money.
While I'd been in Synanon, a guy had written me a letter from the University of Denver. He asked if I'd be interested in doing a "clarinet clinic." He explained that I would go to the school and lecture and play a concert for the kids who would pay to attend this thing and to associate with me and learn from me. He'd heard me on clarinet on Plus Eleven and on an album I'd done with Henry Mancini called, Combo. I'd told him, "I can't travel while I'm in Synanon, but I've been thinking of leaving." He said, "Well, if you do leave, let me know right away. Call me collect." I borrowed a clarinet from Les Koenig and gave this guy a call. He was really happy. He told me he'd pay me a lot of money and my expenses. I decided to go.
At these clinics, representatives of musical instrument companies-Selmer, Conn, Buffet, and so on-sometimes set up displays of their horns, trying to sell horns to the students. In Denver, I struck up a friendship with a guy named Ken Yohe who was working for Chicago Musical Instrument Company at that time, handling Buffet. He'd been a fan of mine for years. He asked what kind of clarinet I was using. It was some obscure French model; he'd never heard of it. Nobody had. He said, "Why don't you use one of ours?" A Buffet clarinet is one of the best made. I used it and played very well, even though I was playing with classical players from all over the world. When the clinic ended, Ken told me his company might be interested in having me work for them, play their horns, do clinics for them. He said he could probably arrange for me to get some Buffet horns. About this same time, Lew Malin was talking to me about playing these casuals. I told him, "If I get these horns, maybe I -can do it."
I didn't think anything would really happen with this because of my past. I couldn't see them sending instruments like that, that cost so much money, to a person like me, but a couple of weeks after the clinic in Denver, a United Parcel truck pulls up in front of Laurie's apartment and a guy comes and knocks on the door. He's got several big packages ad dressed to me. I open them. There's a brand-new Buffet alto sax, a tenor sax, a clarinet, and an Armstrong flute. A couple of days later, here's a letter