I brought this book with me to the Hollywood Premier of "Tales of Ordinary Madness" at a theatre on Sunset Blvd in East Hollywood
I can't remember the exacter but it was the early 1980's
Bukowski held court in the theatre lobby prior to the film, signing books for rowdy adoring fans. There was a long line to get his signature, and while waiting for my turn,I witnessed a true understanding of his level of alcoholism. Fans were offering him drinks from bottles they'd smuggled into the theatre. In less than 30 minutes, I watched in amazement as Bukowski drank a bottle of Port followed by a bottle of Southern Comfort that someone had handed him. He continued throughout the night drinking cans of beer while watching the film, frequently yelling out at the actors on the screen and tossing an occasional beer can into the crowd.. When I finally got him to sign the book, he was wasted but unbelievably still somewhat coherent.
the seller said:Bukowski held court in the theatre lobby prior to the film, signing books for rowdy adoring fans. There was a long line to get his signature, and while waiting for my turn,I witnessed a true understanding of his level of alcoholism. Fans were offering him drinks from bottles they'd smuggled into the theatre. In less than 30 minutes, I watched in amazement as Bukowski drank a bottle of Port followed by a bottle of Southern Comfort that someone had handed him.
Bukowski said:We finished eating and trotted ourselves across to the theatre. There was a large crowd out front. We pushed into the lobby and then they surrounded me with their copies of Suicide Man. They each wanted an autograph. I had no idea so many copies were being sold. Where the hell were my royalties?
It was hot in there and they jammed their copies at me. Sarah was pressed against me.
“This is worse than a poetry reading,” she said to me.
“Nothing,” I told her, “is worse than a poetry reading.”
Some guy handed me a pint of whiskey and I took a good hit.
“Keep it,” the guy said, “your shit has given me a lot of laughs.”
So I hit at the pint again and kept signing books. Lots of young girls with my books. I figured they slipped them under their pillows at night. I went on and on signing and hitting the pint. Whiskey and wine are a good mix: utterly stupefying.
the seller said:He continued throughout the night drinking cans of beer while watching the film, frequently yelling out at the actors on the screen
:DDBukowski said:The movie got so bad that I had to relieve myself. I started yelling things at the actors, giving them directions. But they wouldn’t obey me. I kept trying.
Finally some guy screamed at me, “WHY THE HELL DON’T YOU SHUT UP?”
“I’M CHINASKI!” I screamed back, “IF ANYBODY’S GOT A RIGHT TO YELL AT THIS MOVIE, IT’S ME!”
I would never attempt to sell that one as real.
I'll second this. If the story is true, then it's just a crazy, authentic signature. But I wouldn't buy it nor sell it as signed. But there really are a few elements there that completely add up to the story being told behind it. It's one of those "it's authentic, but no one will ever believe it's authentic" things.I think it could definitely be authentic, but I also wouldn’t pay $20 for it either. I should also add as someone who occasionally sells signed Bukowski items that I would never attempt to sell that one as real.
"it's authentic, but no one will ever believe it's authentic" things.
Where is this quoted from, Hollywood? Or?!?? I'd like to re-read more of that!The Seller got it (looks like he had been there):
[...]
:DD