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Authors: Bill Zehme

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George and Linda and Elayne met them at the airport on April 28 and saw that there was now less of him and what there was of him moved more deliberately. Linda would recall, “He was really trying to walk normal. I went over and took his arm to help him and he told me, ‘I’m cured.’” They got him back to the Pacific Palisades house (where John Gray had stayed during their absence due to marital separation) and, there, he denied reality—his unparalleled forte—for as long as he could muster strength to do so. “He came back worse than ever,” said Rubins. One day, he rallied suddenly and went with Elayne to see three movies in a row which was fun up until sometime during the third one. Also, he briefly flew with Lynne to Denver and back to have crystals laid upon him. But, on May 7, he was admitted to Cedars-Sinai for controlled care and radiation and heavy dosages of Demerol for the pain. He went home five days later
(hated the hospital)
and Michael and Carol and Mommy and Daddy promptly arrived because there wasn’t much life left. He was home for only a couple of days.

“Don’t worry,” Michael told him, saying something/anything.

It was time to go back to the hospital.

“I’m not worried!”
he snapped.

He went back to the eighth floor VIP wing.

He was registered under the name Nathan McCoy.

Nathan Richards = unctious happy oblivious man.

Kid McCoy = cut the kidding, Pearl would say.

May 16, 6:20 something
P.M

Suite was very large. They were scattered in various corners dozing. They had been awake, it seemed, for days. Watching. Waiting. Mommy and Daddy and Michael and Carol and Lynne, they all nodded, eyelids leaden. Linda stood beside the bed, giving him moisture, dipping a cloth into the water, then onto his lips. His brain, hours earlier, fell into ether. Not long before that, however, he and Michael had sung a little piece of a song together. Mostly, for days, he had faded in and faded out and now he had faded out but he breathed through chapped lips, which Linda dampened.

Then his eyes opened and he gasped, but it was a rattle more than a gasp. Linda said/knew it was the death rattle. She woke them up and they came to the bed and each one took a part of him, held a part of him—a hand, a foot, a leg. Lynne pressed her mouth to his forehead. Stanley and Michael and Carol tried coaxing him back—“Come on, Andy, you can stay with us! You can stay!” Janice stroked him serenely. And they all said they loved him. Then Michael said, “Bye, Andy. Have a great trip.” And they cried. Because there was nothing left to do. And at twenty-seven minutes past the hour, he had finished.

But his eyes stayed open.

And when a nurse tried to close them, they opened again.

Elayne came in from the lounge down the hall.

She stared into those eyes that would not concede.

“I remembered a reviewer’s words,” she would later write. “‘This guy doesn’t know when to get off.’”

Linda stayed alone in the room with him as the others wandered away to find sense and reason. “I turned the television on to the news
because I thought Andy might get a sort of weird kick out of having the news reporting his death while his body was lying there, watching. That was sort of my last little tribute to him.”

Stanley called George and George rushed over to Cedars—
I felt numb, and the feelings kept creeping in…. I touched his face and said “goodbye” and “Andy, I love you.” My love is so strong for him. Andy was a unique, wonderful, loving person. He fought until his last breath. I’m so proud to have been his friend. He was a treasure in my life. He stood up bravely for what he believed in as a performer and as a person. He was kind and generous and above all human…. I’m so fortunate to have known him.

Zmuda, meanwhile, had gone home from the hospital early that morning and slept all day and woke to hear from Linda two hours after his friend departed. And thus he came late. Which was what Andy had always done, which was, um, fine.

And then the people heard and then the people laughed.

And he could not tell them no really.

And it was almost better that way.

Because no one knew what to believe.

And so he won.

He went back to Great Neck to the Temple Beth-El, where the Rabbi Davidson memorialized milk and cookies and his brother spoke of being fortunate enough to have been the only person in the world who had gotten to be his brother and loved ones wept and also smiled and then he himself sang “This Friendly World” on a tape and people quietly sang along and/or cried along and a local Elvis Presley fan club stood vigil outside. He wore Daddy’s old sport coat, which was his now anyway, and he wore no tie because he never wore ties and he went back to the cemetery to be with Papu Cy and Grandma Pearl and Grandpa Paul and to lie next to where Mommy would come later. The stone above him, when it got there, would say that he was a beloved
son and brother and grandson and it would also say WE LOVE YOU VERY MUCH and there would be serious discussions beforehand regarding the spelling of
very
about which he would have been thankful.

Dec. 16, 1963

THE EXTREME SUCCESS:

Mr. X was a failure so far,

but hadn’t had a chance yet,

for he had just started.

Mr. X is a playwrite;

Mr. X is a poet.

Mr. X is both.

He wrote a poem,

and put it in his play.

It got to be promoted.

And it got to be produced.

It was opening night.

Mr. X was very happy.

With all his friends to come and see,

the stage with actors,

the theater sold out.

It was the largest success

of plays that played.

At end, they called him up.

He then took a bow.

The applause was almost deafening,

and Mr. X went off.

He put his hand in his pocket,

and took out his gun.

He had the broadest smile of anyone,

as he shot into his head.

He was Dead!

Here was a gauntlet thrown and a madness born—to sort and sift through a life of fantasy, but also a life on earth, and locate truths wherever truths had been sent to hide. The sizable task was made navigable due only to the kindnesses and generosities (and sublime patience) of those who truly knew him and deeply loved him. Primarily, there could be no intimacy with subject were it not for his family and those who became his family:

My debt looms most profound for the miraculous nuclear unit members who trusted to share the private wonder of Andrew Geoffrey Kaufman with biographer and world—Stanley L. Kaufman and Michael Kaufman and Carol Kaufman Kerman, each of whom carry the pieces that keep him alive. Then, too, there is the redoubtable George Shapiro, spontaneous diarist/poet, who championed a life and a life story (worth telling and retelling). Those who were peerless compasses throughout the process: Linda Mitchell, Gregg Sutton, Lynne Margulies, Wendy Polland, Kathy Utman, Dennis Raimondi, Mel Sherer, Beverly Cholakian Block, Gloria Acre Schwartz, and, of course, Bob Zmuda.

The author wishes to thank the following for their memories, observations, ideas and time, all of which helped to piece together the lovely puzzle:

The Great Neck Years:
Rabbi Jerome Davidson, Cathy Bernard, Moogie Klingman, Richard Corey, Marilyn Blumberg Cane, Jim Krieger, Charley Wininger, Rick Etra, Gina Acre, Gloria Greenberg, Gil Gevins, Ginger Petrochko, Glenn Barrett, Peter Wassyng, Carla Shore

The Relatives:
Sam Denoff, Margot Goldberg, Maria Bellu Colonna, Jill Kaufman, Rebecca and Steve Tobias, Susan Lawrence, Jack and Fran Kaufman, Rick Kerman, Prudence Kaufman, Margaret E. English

Grahm Junior College/Boston:
Al Parinello, Burt Dubrow, Dick Mallary, Don Erickson, George Schwartz, Marshall Nanis, Marc Summers, Cindy Mace-Arnett, Paul Fusco, Ron Seidle, Ilona Lange Dudasik

Transcendental Meditation:
Don Snow, Emily Draper, Jerry Jarvis, Maharishi University of Management, Trisha and Phil Malkinson, Mews Small, Penny Bell, Phil Goldberg, Dean Sluyter, Craig Pearson, Prudence Farrow, Harold Bloomfield, Pamela Paradowski, Kathy Brooks

The Clubs:
Budd Friedman, Silver Friedman (The Improv); Rick Newman, Conan Berkeley, Zane Busby (Catch a Rising Star); Seth Schultz (Pips); Eppie Epstein (My Father’s Place); Mitzi Shore (The Comedy Store); Jay Leno, Elayne Boosler, Martin Harvey Friedberg, Tom Dreesen, Nancy Redman, Richard Lewis, Richard Belzer, Jimmie Walker, Rodney Dangerfield, Glenn Super, Robin Williams, Johnny Dark, David Brenner

Saturday Night Live:
Lorne Michaels, Dick Ebersol, Anne Beatts, Brad Hall, Brian Doyle Murray, Chevy Chase, Gary Kroeger, Jean Doumanian, Joe Piscopo, John Head, Laurie Zaks, Mary Gross, Tim Kazurinsky, Alan Zweibel, Sandra Restrepo, Marc Liepis, Laurie Berden

Taxi:
Richard Sakai, Carol Kane, Ed. Weinberger, Howard Gewirtz, Jeff Conaway, Jim Burrows, Jim Brooks, Joel Thurm, Judd Hirsch, Marilu Henner, Mike Binder, Randall Carver, Stan Daniels, Tony Danza, Vicki Rosenberg, Felicia Nalivansky, Larina Adamson

The Productions:
Bill Block, Sean Daniel, Thom Mount
(The Tony Clifton Story);
Johnny Legend, Linda Lautrec (
My Breakfast with Blassie);
Larry Cohen
(God Told Me To);
Allan Arkush, Vince Prentice
(Heartbeeps);
Bill Boggs, Paul Noble
(Midday Live);
Harold Ramis
(The Top);
Bob Einstein, Allan Blye, Dick Van Dyke
(Van Dyke and Company);
Greg Garrison, Lee Hale
(Dean Martin’s Comedyworld);
Jay Redack, Harry Friedman
(Hollywood Squares);
John Moffitt, Pat Lee, Bruce Mahler, Kathie Sullivan, Melanie Chartoff, Michael Richards, Steve
Adams, Wayne Williams
(Fridays);
Fred Tatashore, Sharon Olson
(Dinah & Friends);
Vince Calandra
(The Mike Douglas Show);
Johnny Carson, Steve Allen, Steve Martin, Peter Lassally, Jeff Sotzing, Susan Rubio, Helen Sanders
(The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson);
David Letterman, Robert Morton, Chris Elliott, Gerard Mulligan, Rob Burnett, Rosemarie Keenan
(Late Night with David Letterman);
Chuck Braverman
(Carnegie Hall);
Deborah Harry
(Teaneck Tanzi)

The Wrestling:
Bill Apter, Jerry Lawler, Jim Cornette, Jimmy Hart, Lance Russell, Larry Burton, Sherry Tuseth Jackson, Roddy Piper, Lou Albano, Fred Blassie

Other Voices and Stories:
Carl Reiner, Barry Manilow, John Landis, Bill Knoedelseder, Ken Chase, Fabian Forte, Freddy Cannon, Babatunde Olatunji, Merrill Markoe, Alan Abel, Woody Allen, Alan Spencer, Andy Dickerman, Billy Swan, Mimi Lambert, Cindy Lamb, Cindy Williams, Dave Gross, Dustin Hoffman, Murray Schisgal, Eddie Rabin, David Zucker, Elizabeth Wolynski, Emmett Wilson, Gary Lee Fletcher, Greg Gasaway, Janet Coleman, David Copperfield, Jim Walsh, Richard Beymer, Joanna Frank, Joel Siegel, John Burke, John Gray, Mark Perento, Martha Batorski, Sarah Jessica Parker, Shelley Herman, Soupy Sales, Terry Cooney, Terry McDonell, Tom Cottle, Val Shively, Al Garfinkel, Oscar Arslanian, Jennifer Spano, Garn Stevens, Dr. Irwin Grossman, Dr. Steven Rubins, Dr. William Young, Dr. Champion Teutsch, Dennis Hof, George Flint, Peter Guralnick, Joe Esposito, Jerry Weintraub, Bill Belew, Scott Alexander, Larry Karaszewski, Arthur Hull, Sandy Wernick, Albert Brooks, Steve Dahl, Garry Meier.

Additional Research:
Comic Relief, Andrea Dennett, Billy Rose Theatre Collection—N.Y. Public Library, Eric Grater, Phil Kruener, HBO, James Taylor, Mike Miller, R. J. Johnson, Rosemarie Garland Thomson, Simeon Peebler, Great Neck North High School, Great Neck Public Library, Brent Zacky, Andy Nulman, Paul Brownstein, David Shayte of the Smithsonian

Shapiro/West & Associates:
Howard West, Aimee Hyatt

The Transcribers:
Eugene Corey of Brave New Words, Cindy Price of Purposeful Journey, Amy Goldstein, Marcia Smith, and Genelle Izumi, who began it all.

This book would not exist without the herculean fortitude and journalistic virtuosity of Mike Thomas, ace among copilots, who performed scores upon scores of key interrogations, chased the unchasable, ordered the morass, held the fort, sent for reinforcements, felt the pain and kept his wits about me. (He presently seeks professional counseling.) Chris Calhoun, of Sterling Lord Literistic, came into my life with the birth of this project six years ago; he believed first and has never stopped crashing surf for which I am grateful. At Delacorte, Jacob Hoye—my trusted partner in funhousing—has edited with wisdom and devotion, sustained shrapnel wounds, and made me think very extremely fast; Leslie Schnur took the leap that made the difference. Also Irwyn Applebaum and Nita Taublib were most patient in the face of delay. Richard Sakai of Gracie Films—who was a youth on the set
of Taxi
and who shared his stories first—gave me the idea that Andy belonged in my life; I think I thank him very much. David Hirshey, the Sleuthing Jew (as he wishes to be known), cased Kaufman and Clifton as others might have only dreamed/feared for
Rolling Stone,
then insisted that I take over the job; I think I thank him, too. Webmaster Brian Momchilov—whose Andy Kaufman Home Page, Goofin’ On Elvis, (http://andykaufman.jvlnet.com) keeps the torch aflame with uncompromised integrity—is owed a special thank-you for his support and assistance. Ditto Mark Warren at
Esquire.
For their goodwill or enthusiasm or concern or all of the above: David Granger, Mike Sager, Steve Randall, John Rezek, David Rensin, Sandy Holzbach, Melissa Hellstern, Richard Hull, Donna Tadelman, Bill Tonelli, Michael Angeli, Paige Smoron, Richard Raymond, Judd Klinger, Jim Agnew, John Davies, Ilene Rosenzweig, Chris Pallotto and Hugh M. Hefner.

Moreover, I cannot begin to express my love and appreciation for my family, who helped me survive the straits and perils of this journey. And Carrie Lynn Secrist, who bolsters my heart and teaches me life, I thank you for waiting in the tunnel of love.

SPECIAL NOTE: Three volumes of Andy’s own writings—
The Huey Williams Story, God and Other Plays,
and
Poetry and Stories—are
now available for ordering at http://AndyKaufmanPrint.com or, for further information, contact Zilch Publishing, 1465 Route 23, Suite 101, Wayne, NJ 07470.

BOOK: Lost in the Funhouse
10.65Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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