February 16, 2011


The saga continues. I am not quitting this stupid fucking Keith Richards book. I am just not. I can see the finish from here, from page like, 463. I am slogging through his fucking anecdotes about Don Was and making Bridges to Babylon (I blv that was the first record I ever reviewed for SPIN) and am passed the part that made my blood boil because he wasn't just a bad junkie dad, he was like CLICHE horror story drug addict parent who doesn't think they are bad bad, thinking making their seven-year-old their keeper is a way to be close with their child. I mean, that is the sort of decision I am positive makes sense when you are strung out and no one wants to wake you because YOU SLEEP WITH A GUN and the only person you do not want to shoot is your child so every night when it's time to rouse you to get you on stage, your kid, who has been eating room service ice cream for every meal and hanging out with your security detail all day and shooing away groupies from your door--your child is sent to wake you from your stupor. I went from thinking he was just like, hapless, typical rockstar, the cliche of who we think he is but maybe not as bad. But then he includes other peoples versions of a story after he has been explaining it and then it's like... oh, he's an enraged alcoholic and a total dick and terrible parent. He is just leaving those things out of the story, because they are in other peoples tellings.

Now that I am a parent, I have no patience or even the stomach for stories of bad parents. I caught sight of a headline somewhere last week about something like, someone abandoned a baby in a bathroom at a sports arena. The baby was "clinging to life". That's the part that gets stuck. It's like Joan Didion writes about at the beginning of Slouching Towards Bethlehem (I think) where she cannot process or fathom some bad story, and she obsesses and tries to unpack why something happened, but can't. In my head I think about what could be happening in a mom's life that she would think that is a good solution. Or maybe it was her only solution. Maybe that was the thing that had to happen to rescue the baby from a hurricane of future badness and now it will be ok. I don't understand how people can be terrible parents--I mean, I can, in that a lot of people live in conditions and with problems that are beyond my comprehension and people sometimes cannot get off drugs or have to do drugs to deal with the responsibilities of parenthood. But I hate Keith Richards for it.

Posted by jessica hopper at February 16, 2011 12:05 AM | TrackBack