21 years ago The Summer of Love was happening everywhere without much thought. And, The Rolling Stone's song on the subject of LSD, Jumping Jack Flash, was number 1.
It's summertime, 1986 in The Big Apple.
Writing coaches and great writers often share their ideas on writing.
Elmore Leonard is a crime novelist who writes humorous felony yarns and screenplays about hip sinners. His advice on writing is,
if it sounds like writing, I rewrite it.
Haruki Murakami is a Japanese writer who writes using traditional Japanese 1st person narrative, and a magic realist, akin to Franz Kafka and Gabrial Garica Marquez. Haruki says on writing,
When I start to write a story, I don’t know the conclusion at all and I don’t know what’s going to happen next. If I knew there’s no purpose in writing the story.
Stephen King, an author who doesn't need an introduction, says on writing,
If you don’t have time to read, you don’t have the time or the tools to write, simple as that.
King says if you don't read, don't write. Advice that leaves little wiggle room.
As a writer, Henry chose sordid life experience over reading anything that came down the pike.
Ray Bradbury wrote in many styles—fiction, horror, and mystery, to name a few. His writing style was complex and to a great extent descriptive. Here's Ray's advice on writing,
Ray Bradbury wrote in many styles—fiction, horror, and mystery, to name a few. His writing style was complex and to a great extent descriptive. Here's Ray's advice on writing,
you must stay drunk on writing so reality doesn’t destroy you.
Juxtaposing the sentence with something Charles Bukowski might say,
Juxtaposing the sentence with something Charles Bukowski might say,
stay drunk while writing, unlike women, beer stays by your side.
Sometimes, Henry would wake late at night and fret over what he’d written the day before, or what he was going to write.
Eventually, he got smart and didn’t think about writing unless he was sitting in front of his typewriter, writing.
Henry’s working on a story in The Dream Suite of the Chelsea Hotel, alternately eyeballing The Empire State Building through 3 Georgian windows which frame the famous skyscraper into 3 parts.
The phone rings, he places the speaker cup firmly against his ear while keeping the microphone cup a healthy distance from his mouth. Paranoid like Howard Hughes, attempting to avoid unknown viruses. Dave Spleen his editor says,
don't get your undies in a knot but,
Dave Pauses,
your last story, April is the Cruelest Month didn’t take off.
Henry, nobody, I mean no fucking buddy want’s to hear about your johnson. Forget writing sex, you’re no Anis Nin. Feeling sheepish he defends himself,
Dave Pauses,
your last story, April is the Cruelest Month didn’t take off.
Henry, nobody, I mean no fucking buddy want’s to hear about your johnson. Forget writing sex, you’re no Anis Nin. Feeling sheepish he defends himself,
Dave, the world’s a freak show, folks are fascinated by size, big and small.
Man, I ain't got the time or the inclination to talk about heat seeking missiles. Whatever you do, don't pull me down to your level! They enjoy the bantering, Henry asks,
what level is that?
Frankly, the penis dialogue level, Henry howls,
frankly my ass! Dave finishes with,
cut the sex stuff! Gotta go, gotta deadline to meet!
Henry ignores Dave, penning whatever he wants. The short story he was editing at the moment was 90% sex— a whimsical interpretation, not a play by play description.
Lucia enters The Dream Suite with a large paper bag of sweet rolls and buns from Pilar's Cubano Bakery. She sets the bag on the countertop of the room's small kitchenette. Then, she picks up the handset of the room's Princess phone, ordering hot coffee with milk and a pint of Kailua.
20 minutes later there's a knock on the door, it's room service. She yells out,
A younger version of Franky the elevator operator, who looks like Herbert Huncke, thin with greased back hair, wearing a cheesy double-breasted bellhop's jacket and striped pants says,
Cos'è, I'm a Franky da elevator operator’s nephew Ricco. I got yous order and if yous need? I got 1/4s of Kush for 45 beans, Henry asks,
you got one handy?
Ricco hands him a Ziploc bag with bud in it, he takes a long whiff, the bud is odoriferous, he hands the kid a US Grant and says,
keep the change Ricco, I gotta tell ya, you and your Uncle Franky are the dukes of Chelsea.
Ricco whistles O Sole Mio as he pushes the trolly out the door. The couple eats Cubano pastry and sips hot coffee and milk mixed with Kailua, talking about the usual stuff. Out of nowhere, Henry doggedly asks,
please be truthful darling, do I have a big dick? Before she met Henry, Lucia was one of a select group of ladies on call for Fidel Castro in Havana. She giggles saying,
Fidel has balls the size of a pomelo, and a pollo like a burro. He'd rub his pene in cocaína and fucks me all night. Henry feeling sheepish asks,
Am I as good a Fidel? She says,
bebe, you know I love you, Fidel was a trick, I needed the money. Your polla isn’t the biggest, but size doesn’t matter. Her answer aggravates the situation and he insists,
I know damn well size matters. She laughs reassuring him,
women are different from men, romance is 1st, sex is 2nd. Darling, if you feel insecure talk to a shrink.
He had visited a number of county psychiatrists while on crazy pay in his late teens. He'd tell them what they wanted to hear and walk out of the welfare office carrying little brown bottles of pills, later giving the pills to the 1st bum he’d see on his way home.
He had visited a number of county psychiatrists while on crazy pay in his late teens. He'd tell them what they wanted to hear and walk out of the welfare office carrying little brown bottles of pills, later giving the pills to the 1st bum he’d see on his way home.
Henry reckoned psychotherapy, whatever variations the men in the white coats were practicing this year, was rubbish. And that, the human body became resistant to psychotropic drugs within a month, consequently, larger and larger doses were needed as time went on.
His irrefutable choice was self-medicating over shrinks and psychotropic drugs. Enjoying booze, hallucinogenics, and sex was a helluva panacea and a glorious walk down the yellow brick road.
He decides to ignore Lucia's comments on pecker size which weren’t reassuring. Lucia's tired of nursemaiding his insecurities and she says,
bebe, just remember I love you! Let’s meet Summer Wynd for dinner and a film, I’ll call and leave a message at Lincoln Center.
Summer Wynd was a dancer with the New York City Ballet.
Summer Wynd was a dancer with the New York City Ballet.
The couple showers and grooms one another's waist-length hair. Then dressing in matching outfits, faded jean shorts with frayed legs, tank tops, and rubber slippers. Henry comments,
darling, fall is around the corner, let's plan on flying back to Key West in October if not sooner. I miss our babies, Che and Mia, the Chihuahuas and Pedro the woodpecker.
darling, fall is around the corner, let's plan on flying back to Key West in October if not sooner. I miss our babies, Che and Mia, the Chihuahuas and Pedro the woodpecker.
At 745 PM they lock their Chelsea Hotel room, walking the hallway to the creaking scissor-gate elevator, waiting until Franky the junk slides the gated door open, then getting inside and slowly riding the old elevator downward, Franky says
my nephew Ricco told me what went down with yous guys. He’s a chip off the ole block, who do ya think taught da kid wat he knows? His Uncle Franky dat’s who! The couple smiles, Henry says,
Franky, you have good reason to be proud of Ricco, he pulled off the dope deal like a pro.
Leaving the Chelsea Hotel the couple walks the canyons of New York City feeling jubilant and alive in the clement summer air.
In Manhattan, they go in the Original Pancake House, an A1 flapjack joint with the best pancakes anywhere.
Inside, they sit with Summer Wynd at a booth who complains,
my feet are calloused and my muscles ache, ballet’s for masochist! When are we going home to Key West? Henry reassures her,
baby, I'm gonna book tickets for next month.
The tribe eyeballs the one of kind menu of the Original Pancake House. A shapely middle-aged waitress wearing jeans, a small apron and a t-shirt which reads,
There is hardship in everything,
except eating pancakes!
comes to their table, Henry orders an assortment of cakes which they will share, saying,
a German pancake, a Swedish pancake with Loganberrys, buckwheat pancakes, and a pot of coffee, no hurry sweety!
They drink percolated coffee and then their order comes. The waitress places the gourmet hotcakes on the table, the portions are large and the cakes are scrumptious.
After Summer Wynd pays the bill, they leave the pancake house, hitting the pavement, Henry suggests,
let’s walk to Times Square, pancakes lay in your gut and do nothing but spurn fatty acid for hours on end!
It’s a 30-minute walk, Henry gives every bum who’s curled up on the pavement a couple of bucks as the threesome moves along the sidewalk. When they reach Times Square Lucia, thinking he is throwing money away, comments,
Jesucristo, you think your Juan Rockefeller with nothing but money to burn?
A short distance up the sidewalk he notices The Peek a Boo Club, it’s an old-style burlesque house. He insists they go inside for a drink.
The tribe walks inside the dimly lit club, sitting at a small table covered with a red table cloth that has a small light on it. They sit facing the elevated stage which is masked with a musty red curtain.
There’s a 3 piece band in front of the red curtain— an acoustic bass player, saxophonist, and drummer.
3 hip black dudes from Harlem versed in jazz who are paid to schlep through schmaltzy versions of— The Honey Dripper, Minnie the Moocher, Teach me Tiger, The Stripper, Hog Wash, Rock Candy and so on.
3 hip black dudes from Harlem versed in jazz who are paid to schlep through schmaltzy versions of— The Honey Dripper, Minnie the Moocher, Teach me Tiger, The Stripper, Hog Wash, Rock Candy and so on.
A sexy cocktail waitress wearing a flashy squealed bikini, mesh stockings, and high heels walks to their table and clues them in,
that’ll be a 50 dollar cover which includes 2 drinks each. Henry smiles suggestively and hands her the money, then ordering drinks,
6 shots of tequila, will that float doll? She answers,
it's your call mister! Lucia kicks his leg under the table saying,
you think you're a big shot, flirting! The waitress thinks your an asshole!
it's your call mister! Lucia kicks his leg under the table saying,
you think you're a big shot, flirting! The waitress thinks your an asshole!
The curtain opens as the band plays steamy riffs, heavy on the rim and cymbal shots. Pussy Wilderness enters stage left wearing a fringed leather outfit that comes apart at the seams.
She gyrates on stage as the band plays a ghastly version of the Bonanza theme, a 60s TV show.
As Pussy Wilderness Strips she pulls off the arms of her frontier outfit, then the legs, and so on.
She gyrates on stage as the band plays a ghastly version of the Bonanza theme, a 60s TV show.
As Pussy Wilderness Strips she pulls off the arms of her frontier outfit, then the legs, and so on.
In no time the burlesque queen is naked except for her G string, and the pasties on her nipples.
She sashays to the tribe's table, ignoring the girls, moving up close to Henry, gyrating up and down in front of him, doing knee squats as she opens her legs, pushing her crotch into his face, holding it there, then moving on to another table. He laughs out loud and says to Lucia and Summer Wynd,
She sashays to the tribe's table, ignoring the girls, moving up close to Henry, gyrating up and down in front of him, doing knee squats as she opens her legs, pushing her crotch into his face, holding it there, then moving on to another table. He laughs out loud and says to Lucia and Summer Wynd,
she musta sprayed a bottle of dime-store douche on her taco!
The girls giggle as the waitress comes and says,
enjoying the show? Don’t forget to tip the dancers. Lucia says,
tip me and I’ll open my cono right here! He considers the offer, Then she tells the cocktail waitress,
6 more shots of tequila and a pitcher of beer, whatever you got at the bar chica!
The brothas from Harlem are working hard to play a 50s Chinese song, My Little Thing, by The Chopstick Brothers.
Shanghai Sal enters stage left. Sal had the moves, she's beguiling as she twists cobra-like.
Sal is wearing a loose-fitting kimono that comes off in a flash revealing— a black bra, panties, fishnet stockings, and red fuck-me pumps.
Sal is wearing a loose-fitting kimono that comes off in a flash revealing— a black bra, panties, fishnet stockings, and red fuck-me pumps.
The white-skinned Chinese beauty was breathtaking with her purple Betty Page wig on and tattooed Cleopatra eyebrows.
Still, on stage she sensually takes her stockings off, then her panties and bra, moving sexy from table to table with only her G String and pasties on. Looking like the milk white-skinned Femlin Figures from 60’s Playboy magazines.
When Shanghai Sal reaches the tribe's table the tiny burlesque queen sits on Henry’s lap, grabbing a shot of tequila and sucking it down. After the shot, her eyes roll upwards, then she French kisses him, thrusting her tongue deep into his throat.
Summer Wynd looks at her watch and says,
my God, it’s 130 AM, I have to get up early for ballet practice!
Lucia pays for the drinks, they walk outside, hailing a yellow cab. The 3 of them are sitting in the back seat of the taxi as Henry comments on the show saying,
The Peek a Boo Club, what a circus. The girls laugh out loud and Lucia says,
cut the crap Henry, the show was all about pink tacos for you!
