Read Online The Empty Chair by Bruce Wagner - Free Book Online Page A

need to pay me
NOW
.
’ So we made a deal where he printed up a few hundred of these things and we both signed them and I’d get the money. But he was dragging his feet. I looked at his schedule and said, ‘Well I see you’re going to be in Stockholm. Wouldn’t that be a good place to meet up?’ So we did. And while we’re signing the posters, he asked if I wanted to go to his concert—they’re booked for
years
in advance—and I said, ‘Sure, can I bring a few friends?’ I wound up bringing a whole crowd! He announced me from the stage. There I was in the VIP section and 25,000 people roared and turned their heads to look at me. I asked my friend if she got a picture of all those people’s heads turning and she said, ‘No, Carolyn, I was taking a picture of
you
.’ The next day I was told that when it was announced that I was in the stadium, it was like some kind of religious experience for the audience. I said, ‘Well, if it was a religious experience for
them
,
what do you think it was like for
me
?’
Anyway, we signed the posters but I started to think those things were probably going to take a
long time
to sell. I mentioned that to the Swedish Elvis and he told me to ring up his man, to settle the accounts. When I got the fellow on the line, he said, ‘Would you like it all in one? Or in two?’ One lump or two. I said,
‘Let me have it all in one.’
They cut me a check right there, for 18,000 pounds. O, the world is having a tough time, but not
me
!
    â€œI always felt shy and worthless. Didn’t get over it till I was 65—that’s how long it took for me to speak in front of crowds. Because, of course, I was invited all the time.
Ginsberg was just
needy
. At least I
knew
why I felt worthless. It was because my brothers molested me when I was 10. Took me 55 years to get over . . .
    â€œJack wrote
Big Sur
up in Larry’s cabin. And I’m in the book. A few years ago, some people made a documentary about it. They interviewed me for an hour-and-a-half but I was in the movie about
two seconds.
When I finally watched it, I almost fell asleep. Had to pinch myself it was so boring. They filmed me walking on the beach but it was the
wrong
beach. Why, I don’t know. I
told
them it was wrong but they didn’t seem to
care.
I guess they were going to fake it. But what’s the point of faking it if you’re making a documentary? That cabin isn’t even up there anymore. In Bixby Canyon. It’s a posh home now. There
are
a few buildings or whatnot where it used to be—but
nothing
in that film is authentic. I just don’t understand why people avoid facts! There I was walking down the wrong beach . . . and everyone they decided to put in the movie was so full of
opinions.
You see, I don’t have ‘opinions,’
I have
knowledge.
Jack wrote to me that he
had
to write that book
.
He felt good
about it.
The
one
thing I liked about that documentary was they flew me out from New York on EOS. I don’t think it exists anymore but it was all First Class—the only way to travel. My son met me there and we had a fabulous day in New York. Then we took the train to California and it was
horrid
.”

    One day at San Quentin—she’d been doing her thing up there, and had managed to extend her sabbatical another six months—they told Kelly that a prisoner from the East Block had requested study time. The East Block is Death Row. Kelly thought that was a good omen. The great Buddhist teachers had always said the dharma was best practiced in the shadow of death-awareness. What better a pupil than one on Death Row?
    It took some wrangling between the prison and the ACLU because the powers that be weren’t all that excited about the prospect of “Dead man meditating!” It was a control trip, that’s all. A few months went by . . . my wife didn’t have