LOS ANGELES FESTIVAL : LEARY LIKES HIMSELF AS TARGET OF SATIRE

The Los Angeles Theatre Center was abuzz. Everyone knew Timothy Leary was in the audience. At regular intervals heads craned to appraise the ‘60s guru of “Tune in, turn on, drop out” at the Wooster Group’s Thursday night performance of the satirical “The Road to Immortality: Part Two (. . . Just the High Points. . . ).” Nor was it idle star-gazing. Leary was an unbilled co-star in the work--his life, his words, his face bounced like sirens from the stage. How unsettling! How intrusive! How rude!

But Leary begged to differ.

“What can I say? I feel great. I enjoyed it very much,” he said afterward. “My dear, I’ve been talked about in public--denounced and praised--in the most extravagant terms. So this was extremely . . . mild. And I am a public person, a celebrated figure, so that’s not new.”

He shook his head.

“My only concern tonight was for my wife, because she’s very sensitive, very thin-skinned--and totally protective of me. But she loved it. And off the record, your honor, 80% of it was made up. For instance, there was no Japanese maid . . . Well, there was a Chinese secretary at Harvard, but she never participated in any of the drugs. So the picture of me that comes from the show is like a cluster, a cloud: Some of it has nothing to do with me, other parts--like the quotations by my son Jack--moved and touched me.”

As did the audience’s clamoring to hear more of the works of Alan Watts and William Burroughs.

“The writers of the ‘50s and ‘60s who are still around: We are the second-grade American renaissance,” he said firmly. “Before, it was people like Whitman, Poe, Emerson. There’s no question that history will treat us in the same way. No question. And I’m honored to be a part of that group; most of them were my teachers. I was a square Harvard professor when Allen Ginsberg came along. Burroughs has always been so far ahead of me. And (Jack) Kerouac, (Neal) Cassady, (Ken) Kesey, (Arthur) Koestler. Watts is the most underestimated of all.”

Respect, however, is hardly a priority for the 66-year-old Leary.

“I’m a psychologist,” he reminded the interviewer. “You have to understand the nature of consciousness. Most people don’t give a damn about me. So I don’t worry if they think I’m LSD-y or bubble-gummy. Who cares? They’re running around living their lives, I’m living mine. Most places I go, people don’t even know who I am.”

He does admit, however, to one modest goal: “I’d like to win the MVP for this century; I want to be the most valuable philosopher of the 20th Century.”

Leary will be sharing some of his wares locally Oct. 18, when he launches a performance series at Carlos ‘n’ Charlie’s.

“It’s a one-man show with computerized art and sound,” he explained. “I’m going to tell stories, describe the events of the roaring 20th Century, the summers of love--with a particular emphasis on millennium madness. You’ve got to realize the next 12 years are going to get really weird. You thought the ‘60s were weird? Now you’ve got AIDS and Ollie North and the Ayatollah and people speaking in tongues. It’s going to get really freaked-out.”

Any advice? “I’m urging everyone to keep calm--and stay reasonably sober.”