Charles Bukowski

“I was curious, chuck has come up a bit lately. First by Pha%$^%#% (I forget) and then Pedxing. Any other fans. I read a bunch of his stuff years ago. It was hard to find , my local library had to borrow the books from a library in pennsylvania. Depressing fella.”

“oh really?”

“Who??????

8o”

“Here is my Charles Bukowski story:

The year was 1992. I was in the navy, stationed in Long Beach while the ship I was on was being overhauled. I used to go to a place called the Reno Room to drink beers. a bunch of us played pool there on their sub-standard tables. The felt was so worn that the balls would take what we called the "Reno Roll", where thye'd seemingly roll until next week. If you made a shot and didn't scratch you were getting close to pool-god status. Anyway, one day I got off work early (my Division Officer owed me - long story), and since no one else was off, I decided to hang out at the reno room.

It was about 1:00 in the afternoon on a Thursday, and I started playing some pool with a nice guy with a safety pin through his eyebrow. I beat him, and the table was mine. An old guy at the bar got up and put the quarters in to challenge me. We didn't talk much, but when all was said and done, I waxed him, and he was pissed.

I offered to buy him a drink to calm him down, he said no thanks and left.

No one else wanted to play pool, so I sat down and had another beer. The bartender finished talking to someone at the end of the bar, then talked to me for awhile. I brought up the guy that had gotten mad at me. He called him Chuck. He said he came in during the afternoon from time to time, and that he was a writer. There was a picture on the wall of him by the pool tables from one year's new year's eve party...

I had read some Bukowski then, but it just didn't click for me until I saw the picture on the wall. He had autographed it.

After that, I made a point of reading all his stuff, and was saddened to hear when he died in '94 in palo alto.

I met the man, and had no idea until too late. I might have let him win, had I known. :)

In '92 on the night when the Reno Room closed its doors, a girl I know named Hope snagged the picture of Bukowski off the wall. As far as I know she still has it.”

“sounds like he is depressing in real life too.

why read his stuff?”

“Biz, read it and when you're done you'll know why.”

“AHA!....so it's Phaedrus who is responsible? Can't even let a depressive win a lousy game of pool, huh?”

“Ok?

8)”

“By the way, I wouldn't call any of his books depressing. Most, actually, made me laugh. If you want depressing, read John Fante.”

“Actually, Sartre depressed the hell out of me.”

“I couldn't agree more!”

“I don't think Bukowski is depressing. I've read 4 of his books and most of it is entertaining - his point of view that is.

Oh yes, I've read Hollywood too. Haven't seen Barfly though.”

“Perhaps depressing was the wrong word. I meant sad/pathetic. It was entertaining to read but I still was left with a sick and hungover feeling after reading him.”

“If you like Chuck you'll like Steven Jesse Berstein. Prolly some Henry Rollins too, though he is not near as good as the other two. Oddly it was Rollins who mentioned(on a spoken word album) meeting Bukowski that got me to read him .”

“I like Rollins! In person he reminds me of a Chris Farley on steroids, but I really like his poetry. I'd hate to piss him off!”

“I find Bukowski pretty funny. I certainly wouldn't want to model my life after him (although I'd love to have some of his writing talent). I think Hunter Thompson borrowed a little from him.

I can't say I ever heard of Steven Jesse Berstein, I'll have to keep an eye out for something by him.”

“I used to love Rollins'writing and his band (I even have the cover of "end of silence" tattooed on my chest....) I owned all his books and all his spoken word stuff. I then realized that being that bitter about life is a real downer and that I would rather get over stuff than brood. I will however give ole Hank some thanks for being my therapist for a few years.

Ped, Bernstein is an odd fella. Very angry and scarred emotionally but has a raw and brutal view of humanity that is appealing at times similar to Bukowski and Rollins. Not light reading but rewarding.”

“I did some research on Bernstein... it says he was a disciple of William S. Burroughs. Burroughs definitely fits your description of Bernstein.”