Last week I met author John Gilmore at the famous Frontier restaurant. Gilmore was a friend of James Dean, Janis Joplin, Hank Williams, and Eartha Kitt. He's still friends with Kitt. He's not friends with Dennis Hopper, but that's because Hopper stole his treatment for Easy Rider. Which is totally plausible.

Once you meet Gilmore, a bright eyed, well muscled man in with silver hair and a strong handshake, it seems possible. He gave me an autographed copy of each of his five books, and promised his forthcoming novel, Fetish Blonde (which he'd originally penned in the 1960's and was accepted for publication by Henry Miller's press until it went under). Yeah, he knew Henry Miller too.

He asked me, based on a recommendation by the local Riverside Repertory Theatre, to adapt his memoir about James Dean (Live Fast -- Die Young) into a stage play. Almost through reading the book I realize I'm in over my head. I've never adapted a book before. All the advice my screenwriting friends offer seems useless. But the book is good. I'm also reading his Hollywood memoir called Laid Bare, which has chapters about Janis Joplin as a dirty little drug using street urchin in San Francisco who Gilmore never slept with because a) he was loyal to his Hungarian girlfriend and b) he was afraid of getting the clap. Other notables in the book include Dean, Hopper, low-budget filmmaker Edward D. Wood Jr. (along with his whole crew of oddballs like the Amazing Criswell and the proto-Elvira called Vampira), Jack Nicholson, Jane Fonda, Sal Mineo--

(pause)

Waiting for the other name to drop.

Also, he knew Charles Manson and the "family." He wrote about them in a book called The Garbage People. Gilmore's father was an L.A. police detective who worked on the "Black Dahlia" murder cased, which Gilmore wrote about in a book called Severed. The newest edition of Severed sports a promotional blurb from director David Lynch. "How does it feel to know David Lynch read your book?" I asked.

"He should have," Gilmore answered. "He's supposed to be making it into a movie."

So, I sensed a bit of destiny, meeting Gilmore. Because he met all these guys before they were famous. He watched Dean's quick rise (three films over 18 months and then the car crash) and Joplin was just a drugged out weirdo who couldn't carry a tune when their paths first crossed. So maybe meeting Gilmore is an important step-- He was just the arts editor of an alternative news weekly when he met Gilmore--

Or maybe I just obsess about these "scenes" where future greats mingle. Gilmore wanted to be an actor, by the way, a trip which brought him to New York (for "serious" acting experience) to Los Angeles (for money and fame.) He wound up a writer. He ruined his acting career by refusing to accept what he called "stupid parts" and wound up with a reputation of being difficult to work with. So, he started writing. Underground publishing, he built a name for himself that led to book reviews in zines like MaximumRockNRoll, and weeklies like The Village Voice.

A pair of local filmmakers are making an "anti-biography" of his life which was submitted to Taos Talking Pictures but rejected due to a minute-long rant against Dennis Hopper which Gilmore delivers at the top of the film. Hopper received an award at Taos this year.

Some underground publishers want someone to do his biography, Gilmore told me. I told him I'd think about it, but I already know I'll do it if I have the chance. I knew I'd say yes before he was done asking the question. Because I'm young, hungry, and a nobody and Gilmore has this magic, see. The people who cross his path, at least a higher percentage then normal, become famous and sometimes legends. I'm ready.

Michael Maiello isn't quite as naive as he seems. Though he'd like to be.