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- <text id=90TT0208>
- <link 90TT1552>
- <link 90TT0644>
- <title>
- Jan. 22, 1990: An Evening With Hunter Thompson
- </title>
- <history>
- TIME--The Weekly Newsmagazine--1990
- Jan. 22, 1990 A Murder In Boston
- </history>
- <article>
- <source>Time Magazine</source>
- <hdr>
- PEOPLE, Page 64
- An Evening (Gasp!) with Hunter Thompson
- </hdr>
- <body>
- <p>By Sam Allis
- </p>
- <p> [Boston correspondent Sam Allis went to Colorado last week
- to interview Hunter S. Thompson, the inventor of gonzo
- journalism, author (Hell's Angels, Fear and Loathing in Las
- Vegas) and defiant eccentric, at his home in Woody Creek. This
- is what happened:]
- </p>
- <p> I gave up on the interview and started worrying about my
- life when Hunter Thompson squirted two cans of fire starter on
- the Christmas tree he was going to burn in his living-room
- fireplace, a few feet away from an unopened wooden crate of
- 9-mm bullets. That the tree was far too large to fit into the
- fireplace mattered not a whit to Hunter, who was sporting a
- dime-store wig at the time and resembled Tony Perkins in
- Psycho. Minutes earlier, he had smashed a Polaroid camera on
- the floor.
- </p>
- <p> Hunter had decided to videotape the Christmas tree burning,
- and we later heard on the replay the terrified voices of
- Deborah Fuller, his longtime secretary-baby sitter, and me
- off-camera pleading with him, "NO, HUNTER, NO! PLEASE, HUNTER,
- DON'T DO IT!" The original manuscript of Hell's Angels was on
- the table, and there were the bullets. Nothing doing. Thompson
- was a man possessed by now, full of the Chivas Regal he had
- been slurping straight from the bottle and the gin he had been
- mixing with pink lemonade for hours.
- </p>
- <p> But then the whole evening had been like this. It began in
- late daylight, when Hunter shot his beloved tracer pistol into
- the air and then started training it at passing cars. One
- tracer hit a tree and boomeranged back at us. Everyone thought
- that was really neat.
- </p>
- <p> Then Hunter played his tape of a jackrabbit screaming. I
- didn't know rabbits even made noise. Hunters apparently use
- tapes like this to attract coyotes. I thought at first I was
- listening to a baby crying. Then I realized it was not human.
- </p>
- <p> Then we shot Hunter's Olympic-quality pellet pistol at
- exploding targets he had mounted over his fireplace. This event
- was also taped.
- </p>
- <p> Then we watched a tape of a pro-football game and then
- another of the famous 1971 Ali-Frazier fight. Thompson drank
- Chivas from the bottle and noshed on desserts he had taken from
- a fancy restaurant.
- </p>
- <p> Then the fight tape ended, and Hunter decided he didn't want
- to do the interview with me. He decided he didn't like Q. & A.
- Deborah reminded him that he had agreed to do it. I reminded
- him that we had talked on the phone about it. He threw some
- things on the floor.
- </p>
- <p> Then Hunter decided to try a few questions. But he needed
- a wig to do the interview, and he couldn't find one. "WHERE IS
- MY F------WIG?!" Deborah scurried off and found one. Then we
- sat down to talk. I began with a soft pitch on the '80s stuff
- he has written a lot about in his columns. He responded with
- questions on his views about suicide raised by his lecture
- audiences.
- </p>
- <p> Then Deborah came in to tell Hunter she was going to bed,
- and Hunter panicked. Hunter, it became clear, is petrified of
- being left alone, particularly with TIME magazine and a tape
- recorder. Hunter Thompson is a scared little puppy beneath the
- alcohol, tobacco and firearms. He bawled Deborah out for not
- briefing him adequately on the interview and said that Sam
- Allis was not to blame for this. He said this was NOT THE
- DESIRED EFFECT. That's when he smashed the Polaroid on the
- floor and decided to burn the Christmas tree.
- </p>
- <p> When Hunter tossed a lit match at the Christmas tree, it
- exploded into flames. He took a few pulls on the fire
- extinguisher and then joined us outside. The view from the
- porch through the window resembled something out of Watts in
- 1965. The chimney was on fire. His five peacocks, whose roost
- was separated from the living room by a thin pane of glass,
- were not happy. Nor was Hunter, who yelled at me, "GET BACK IN
- THERE, FOOL!" He had given me an iron prodder with which I was
- to keep pushing the tree into the fireplace. "I'M NOT GOING
- BACK IN THERE," I yelled back.
- </p>
- <p> The whole room was full of smoke, and flames kicked up onto
- the mantel and on toward the ceiling. Thompson dashed back in
- and did battle with the tree. Framed against the fire--his
- wig askew, his lower lip drooping, his eyes glazed--this
- 50-year-old man-child was in his element. Meanwhile, a tape of
- his favorite group, the Cowboy Junkies, played renditions of
- Sleep Walk by Santo and Johnny and then Blue Moon.
- </p>
- <p> The video of all this is, quite simply, astonishing. I
- begged him for a copy, but Hunter only giggled. He knew it
- could be used in a mental-competency hearing. He was so pleased
- with it when we watched later in the kitchen that he brought
- out an earlier video he had made that involves him and an
- inflated life-size woman doll in a whirlpool bath. It was about
- then that Hunter called himself the "champion of fun." Deborah
- was so struck with the line that she immediately wrote it down.
- </p>
- <p> It was now almost 3 a.m. Hunter was calm, his mania
- temporarily exhausted. He smiled as he walked me to my car and
- said, "I guess we will never see each other again."
- </p>
-
- </body>
- </article>
- </text>
-
-