I’d heard something, and Bill had heard the same thing, that metaphysically you are made up of three things: 50 per cent is your soul; 25 per cent is your parents; and 25 per cent is what your mom was encountering when she was pregnant. Those aspects are put into you when you are born. He heard that and it seemed to resonate with him; he tried to analyze it.
Later in life – in the late Eighties – I found a channeler. He was a psychic, and he would channel different entities, then he would give you a reading of these different entities. It was really good, so I recommended him to Bill and he had a reading done. In that channeling – and this is something that struck a chord with Bill – something that emerged was that, when Bill came into this life, he chose his parents primarily because of physical attributes.
When Bill heard that it helped to explain the friction in his family, because he felt like he was the odd man out. If you look at the Hicks family their fucking shoulders are just massive. Mr. Hicks is this big barrel of a guy. Bill and Steve – I had never seen guys that were just this barrel of power. I’ve tried to get Mrs. Hicks to talk about the rather odd genetic make-up in the Hicks family. It’s unusual for a southern family to have jet-black hair, a slightly Asian appearance and black eyes. And I said to her, “Where’s that come from? What side of the family?” And she would not talk about it.
Bill was really fast; really powerful. He was a great pitcher. Strong. He took karate early, so his balance and coordination were great. He was also a little ahead in terms of physical development. He was born in 1961; everyone else in the grade was born in 1962. So he had the advantage of great physical prowess and ability, and that gave him a certain confidence throughout life.
He unquestionably had an inner confidence, but when I think about it, it didn’t relate to women. When it came to athletics or stand-up or comedy or spirituality or intellectual conversations, he had that fucking fire in his eyes that said, “You’re not going to win this. So whatever you want to do, go ahead and bring it on.” But the one thing about his relationship with women, especially early on, was that he was over-swinging.
As we were the same age – we went through high school and middle school at the same time – we talked about women a lot. At the time “girls.” But Bill would just try too hard. He was an artist and a romantic; but teenage girls don’t like guys who are overly romantic. The last thing you want is a love letter when you are 16 years old. I know Bill wrote love letters. I know he was writing a lot about women in his journal: that’s one of the reasons he started a journal.
I think he later threw out all of his journals because they included some very, very harsh things about his parents that he didn’t want them to find out. I do know that most of what he talked about in his journal was his anger towards his parents, and girls. Also, early on, his career. Those three subjects were always there.
With regard to women he was extremely romantic. “Why do girls always talk about wanting romance and commitment? They hate guys who just want them for sex. I would never do that. I would always be respectful.” Then you see these turds, these jocks, walk off with your princess even though they are just blind idiots. Of course girls want that because they don’t want a commitment. They just want fun. They don’t want anything heavy at 16. They can’t handle it.
Bill was always confused by the double standard. I think he was always attracted to romance because it draws out the heart. A lot of artistic creative people are drawn to romance and passion. That was how he approached it; that was how he approached women: “What I want to do is be a romantic.”
He must have told me the story of Robin McCullough a million times because there was a lot of romance in it. He really liked that. He really liked going to Toys R Us, or lying in a field, or telling her that she smelled like his dog Chico. He would say: “Don’t take this wrong, but you smell like my dog, Chico, because Chico used to have to be shampooed.” He really liked the smell of that shampoo.
But nothing about his family really connected to him, except for the fact that his mother was very dedicated as a mom, even though it was in a psychotic way. Bill did love his parents, but you wouldn’t know it. That’s what was always so mysterious about Bill. When I was in Houston, I witnessed first-hand these horrible fights Bill would have with his mother and father, saying things to them that I was completely taken aback by. It was traumatic to listen to. Screaming, “I hate you. I hate you. I HATE YOU. I wish you were dead.” Saying that out loud. Yelling that.
And then his parents: “Well, I’d wish I was dead, too, if I had grades like …” Completely unfazed. His parents would not allow him to get to them at all. He wanted to hurt them, but they wouldn’t be hurt.
It was a little nutty in that house. They were a very normal family in appearances, but the crazy part is that there was all of this shit going on that no one ever talked about. I saw his journals. Horrible. Raging hatred. All capital letters. Every teenager has problems with their parents, every teenager has a separation from their parents; but maybe it’s a matter of degree. Maybe we just look at Bill’s personality, and he had that obsessive personality, so when it came time to separate from his parents, he dove in with a frickin’ vengeance. Capital ‘R’ in Rebellion. He took it to the extreme. Fury. Fury. Fury.
But despite all this he really loved his parents. I remember when we were together in New York he would call his mom every single day. It was always in the afternoon. But here’s the thing: what man in his twenties calls his mom every day? I would listen to him. He would be in the chair and he would be slung over, hunched. And it was the same monotone response: “No … No! Nooooo.” He was obviously miserable talking to her. It was strained, teeth-clenched anger. When they started the phone conversation it was friendly …
I don’t know how to define Bill politically, but it would certainly be close to libertarian, social-anarchist, whatever. So to him the fact you had to register your car was: “Why? Tell me why?” He wouldn’t do it. He would rebel against things like that. “Bill, you have to have a driver’s license.” So his mom took care of that. His mom was a bit like his personal manager. And that was a lot of the relationship: she handled his taxes; everything about everyday life she would handle.
In his stand-up and his life Bill really saw things as black and white. He wanted that. That is where the comedy came from: the incongruity, making distinctions. He was also a wise enough soul, when you got down to it; he saw the gray area. He not only saw it, but he could feel it and live it.
For example, I disagreed with a lot of the things he said about children. Yet when I looked at Bill, I realized he would be an outstanding father, because children love people who play, people who are passionate; they love interesting people; they love romance and mystery and adventure. The thing is that Bill was really in tune with his childhood self, so he would have been a great father. What he hated was what society made of children. But once he was around kids, he would see the grey areas. He certainly loved his nieces and nephews.
The thing is, Bill could have done or been almost anything. Here is a guy who could have had an enormous career in athletics. He was already great in 8th grade – a phenomenal athlete. He could have evolved through high school and won a college scholarship. Who knows where he could have gone. In track he was always the anchor leg of the relays. The 200, the 400 metres. It is weird even to talk about Bill running because he was such a pie-faced smoker. It’s not how people think about him, but he was phenomenal.
Then he turns to music. Gifted guitarist; definitely had song-writing talent. Easily could have focused on that, especially because he started young in high school. Clearly could have had a career at it. Where does it end with this fucker?
Not to detour, but what Bill really wanted was to be a rock ‘n’ roll star. He loved the showmanship of Kiss, the charisma of them. He just loved the personality that was in rock ‘n’ roll. It’s what attracted him. You look at the Revelations special, it starts out like a rock concert. A lot of critics made the observation: this is a guy who took comedy and made it rock ‘n’ roll. That’s valid. He wanted to be a rock ‘n’ roll star, and became more and more attracted to it.
But when you are that good at so many