What would Keith Richards do_ - Jessica Pallington West [19]
However, if you can’t take it to this physical extreme, you can make the fumigation/release through the elemental base of it all: art. Music, writing, visuals, or anything on the spectrum, pot holders included. It’s one of the most therapeutic means of fumigation. For all his talk about good genes, I think that it’s this that’s kept Keith alive for so long: “There were times we felt like killing people, but we got out our guitars and wrote songs instead."
There is release to be found in the pen, in the human voice, in the lick of a guitar. And remember, with frustration, things like Mick can be a blessing in disguise—an adversary who can work for you. As Edmund Burke wrote, “Our antagonist is our helper,” and, “Never despair, but if you do, work on in despair.” Frustration and anger can be good for you.
Keith’s frustration and anger toward Mick came to the rescue many times during periods of creative stagnation.
“I’d written about forty songs for this album and I just dried up. Steven [Jordan] turned around, looked at me, and said: ‘When in doubt, write about Mick!’ … In ten minutes, I’d written the whole thing.”
You know the line: “Keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer.” This isn’t necessary in physical form, but when it comes to art, don’t push them too far away. Enemies make for the best art.
“If you stop singing about things that are distasteful, you’re reduced to singing about embroidery.”
X. HOLDING TOUGH WHEN THINGS GET ROUGH
We can feel as if we’re spending our entire lives running from trouble. Just ask Keith. The only time he’s not running from trouble is after it’s already caught him.
For most of us, even though we think we don’t have to hide, or that we’re on the safe side of town, inevitably, it’s going to show up. You might not see it coming. Or it might chase you down. You might outsmart it. But all too often, in the end, it’s gonna catch you. It catches everyone. No one gets out of here unscathed.
But when it comes and clamps down its claws, what do you do?
WHAT WOULD KEITH DO?
Trouble. This is a subject Keith knows something about. It follows him around like a dog. They’re on a first-name basis. They wear each other’s perfumes.
Like Houdini, Keith somehow keeps getting away. And over time, he’s picked up a few tricks to keep it at bay.
First, when he feels it’s in the neighborhood, he puts up a Beware of Dog sign, and, via the Commandments, he keeps moving. Still, you’re probably going to run into it while running—at a stop sign, or when you crash the car yet again. And so, as Keith says, “For the unexpected, you must be prepared."
What to do? Have a room ready, along with sheets and towels.
When trouble shows up and moves in, bring in a third roommate: Max Miller.
Keith’s life has often been reminiscent of a scene from a W. C. Fields movie—where Fields falls a hundred feet off a cliff, lands half on his feet and half on his ass, and then says in a slow, slightly amused drawl: “What a catastrophe.” A similar Fields response came from Keith, right after his drug bust, when he was asked how he felt about the drama and anxiety of the experience:
“It’s all just showbiz. My whole life is showbiz.”
And was he worried about prison?
“I was wondering if the uniforms would have stripes or arrows.”
Another way to deal with trouble is to ask yourself a question that Keith has asked himself in moments of trouble: What would Errol Flynn do?
Flynn has appeared in Keith’s life many times. A longtime fan, Keith has lived at an old Flynn homestead, bought one of Flynn’s old boats, and conjured Flynn’s spirit. He’s long been intrigued by Flynn’s ability, whether on-camera or off-to elegantly jump away from trouble and keep moving.
So: What would Errol Flynn do?
Here’s one answer: He’d learn