Straight Life - Art Pepper [75]
I went to my dad and hugged and thanked him. I kissed Patti. Then I got my stuff, changed clothes, and walked downstairs, and when I got to the gate the guy said, "Here, sign this thing." I signed it, and as I signed it I read it, and I saw on the paper where it said "committed by" and it was me! I had committed myself! The police had just put a shuck on me and the funny part was I had spent two weeks in this place and if it hadn't been for my dad I would have been sent to Norwalk for six or nine months or maybe a year because I had committed myself voluntarily and didn't know it.
In 1953 I was separated from Patti. I stayed in Long Beach with my dad for a while and then I ran into a girl, Susan Douglas. She had been married to Kendell Douglas, the bass player, but before that she was married to another guy who was very wealthy and he was in some kind of asylum back east. He was giving her money and she was living up on the Strip in an apartment hotel. I saw her a couple of times while I was staying with my dad, and she told me she would like to have me live with her. She'd like to take care of me. I realized that I couldn't live in Long Beach because it was too far away from the jobs, so I moved into L.A. and got a little room in Hollywood.
Susan kept wanting me to visit her and stay with her, but she wanted to make love and I didn't want to make love to her. There was something about her; she didn't move me in that way. And she was a beautiful girl, too. Her hair was a chestnut color, and she was very seductive, a real feminine girl, and she was young and unworldly and easily led; I could have led her anywhere. But I couldn't have intercourse with her because she didn't move me, and she was so nice I couldn't act like anything was happening that wasn't happening. She was the kind of girl you wouldn't want to hurt. I wouldn't.
During the time I was going to see her, Susan would let me use her car whenever I wanted. She had a custom-made Cadillac that her husband had given her. A special paint job. The whole thing. When I stopped it at a stop sign people would walk over and say, "Wow!" A couple of times driving downtown, where there was a cop directing traffic, he'd walk over and say, "Boy, where did you get this car? What a beautiful car!" It was a greenish color, but unlike any green I've ever seen. It was a lightish green that had gold flecks in it. A greenish gold that you could see forever into. It was like looking into a lake. It had a white top, a convertible. The seats were covered with actual cowhide and the rugs were white shag. It had every device known. The aerial had a button; the trunk had a button; the hood had a button; and not only the windows but the wind-wings had a button. There was a light that went on if the doors weren't locked, and it had a button you locked all the doors with. It had a radio with four speakers, two in front and two in the back. It had an ashtray for the driver and an ashtray for the passenger ...
I was scuffling. I wasn't working too much, but I'd done a lot of recording and I was well known, so the Martin Company had given me a horn for advertising. I woke up one morning, sick, and I took this horn down and asked Susan