Let Love Rule - Lenny Kravitz Page 0,44

fell asleep on the couch, Mom would welcome her to stay over—that is, she could remain on the couch, not in my bedroom. Cynthia was also ahead of her time. During an era when girls weren’t likely to ask boys out on dates, she didn’t mind doing so in the least. She also had a strong spiritual side.

Cynthia soon became a permanent part of our household. Every time I turned around, she was there. She even thought that Sy Kravitz was fly. Cynthia had a far better relationship with my father than I did. But that’s not saying much: everyone got along better with Dad than me. The heat between us had been boiling since day one. Now it was about to boil over.

BEVERLY HILLS AND BOHEMIA

THE BLOWUP

The thunderous clash with my dad came in the spring of 1981. I was sixteen. It happened the night that Dan Donnelly and I were set to drive down to Anaheim to catch the legendary Buddy Rich and his big band at Disneyland. As a drummer, I aspired to emulate Buddy’s immaculate single-stroke roll.

To make a statement, Dan and I dressed up in suits and ties. Just as we were leaving the house, Dad stopped me.

You’re not going anywhere.

Why?

You were out last night.

What does that have to do with tonight?

If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a hundred times. You can’t go out with your room looking the way it does.

I said I’d clean it up later.

He said he didn’t care. I was grounded.

Not tonight, I said. Buddy Rich is playing. You know he’s great.

Dad knew, but at this moment, he didn’t care. He was adamant. I wasn’t to leave the house.

But we have tickets.

Let Dan go and give the other ticket away.

That’s my ticket. I’m going.

The hell you are.

The hell I’m not.

It escalated from there. Dad got in my face, but for whatever reason, that didn’t scare me. I wasn’t budging. Neither was he. And then something snapped. I put up my fists. I said I was tired of his shit. I said I’d kick his fuckin’ ass. The truth is that he could have wiped me out in a second. I was no match for the man. But my stance shocked him. Looking back, I know he wasn’t afraid of me; he was probably more afraid of how he would destroy me. So, instead of getting physical, he kept it verbal. He said if I left now, I’d be leaving for good.

Fine. I’d leave for good.

I threw a bunch of my stuff in a duffel bag and moved out of the house. And that was it. I’d never live in Sy Kravitz’s house again.

At the time I had no plan B. I had no plan whatsoever. I didn’t know where or how I’d live. But that didn’t matter. Despite the pain it would bring Mom, I knew I had to get out. I wasn’t afraid. I was resolved.

First things first, though. Let’s go down to Disneyland to catch Buddy!

That night, the drummer was on fire. His band was burning. The music was so intense that I forgot all my problems. Once the show was over, though, my mind went back over what had transpired earlier that evening.

The confrontation with Dad shook me up but didn’t break me down. I knew I could survive. I had friends who would let me crash in their homes. I could couch-surf. And meanwhile I had plans to make music. GQ, our disco party outfit, was growing.

My only worry was Mom. She had always tried to make it right between me and Dad. My leaving would break her heart. At the same time, I couldn’t stay for her sake. I had to take my life into my own hands.

* * *

That first night, I crashed at Dan’s. Next morning, I moved in with Tracy Oberstone. First thing I did was call Mom. Naturally, Dad had told her about the confrontation. I said I was fine and staying at Tracy’s. Mom insisted on talking to Tracy’s mother, who reassured my mother that I was welcome there. Then Mom got back on the line with me.

She said I needed to cool down. I agreed. She thought my move was temporary. I knew it was permanent, but I didn’t need to tell her that. I didn’t need to add to her aggravation. She made me promise I wouldn’t quit school, a promise I kept. She had every expectation that I’d go on to college. But I knew I’d