Crumb Eyeball Blowing Minds  1965 -1972; The East Village Other. The Rise of underground comix and the alternative press.

Susan Goodrick, 1974 interview with R. Crumb

Edited by D.K. Holm

We got into his ’47 Pontiac and headed south till we reached the farm, a modest five-acre spread. It was chore time. Dana was milking the goats and Paul and Sherry were in the garden picking dinner. After we had all stuffed ourselves, Paul patted his ample stomach and asked, “Hey, where’s my dessert?” Sherry repressed a giggle and said, “Don’t worry. You’ll get what you deserve.” Suddenly a lemon cream pie whizzed past my head and hit Paul straight in the face. The gooey mess dripped down his balding forehead and coagulated in the hairs of his beard. “Do you do this sort of thing often,” I laughed. “Yeah,” Crumb replied, “these guys are always having pie fights. One time it took three hours to clean up the mess. Anytime someone starts acting real pompous around here, someone else lets ‘em have it. It keeps us on our toes. Heh heh.”

Cover by R.Crumb
Cover by R. Crumb

“Do you ever throw them?” I asked. “Didn’t I ever tell you about my moment of glory? There was this business manager of the East Village Other. He called a big meeting and started laying out what everybody had to do, you know, to get the circulation and advertising up. Everybody was against what he was saying, but nobody said a word. So I snuck up behind him and yelled, ‘Hey, Joel, think fast!’ and threw a pie pan full of whipped cream right in his face.”

“It really surprised everyone because I’m usually so reserved. Like when I lived in the Haight, I wanted to be like the hippies. I used to look at them prancing in the park and wish I could cut loose that way – get a bamboo flute and hit the park, trip around, go up and talk to gurls. But I’m so reserved I can’t even dance.”

“Didn’t you loosen up when you took acid?”

“Hell no. I tried and got so stoned that I could hardly move. I tried to walk down Haight Street but all I saw were egos, egos that were so naked it was embarrassing…”

Reprinted with the kind permission of D.K.Holm, from his book, Conversations with R. Crumb.